#He’s the father he just let them do it and supervised!

[luna-loveboop]

Ok so in the May art

All of them are our little gremlins we love who just had the best time destroying the pots.

And Time’s standing there all dignified so I think a lot assume he was kinda calmer…

But not only is Time holding the Biggoron’s sword, with his smaller one stowed away on his back, but he’s next to the largest pile of pots in the room near someone.

Bro went apeshit

[the-magpie-collective]

One of the few things Wyll mentions about his past is that when he was fourteen he got so drunk he puked in Dillard Portyr's bushes. This is meant to be just a funny throwaway line, that's it.

But this line haunts me.

First, Dillard Portyr is a Duke of Baldur's Gate. In fact, Portyr is one of the longest running Dukes of Baldur's Gate (for some strange reason Dukes tend to die often under horrible and/or mysterious circumstances in Baldur's Gate). Portyr was Grand Duke before Ulder Ravengard, until (for some inexplicable reason) he abdicated that position. So any party Wyll is attending at the Portyr's house is probably for good reason.

But surely there's no important event that occurred when Wyll was fourteen that we know of—

Just kidding, there absolutely is. Arguably one of, if not the most important event of Wyll's childhood.

You see, Wyll would have been around fourteen when his father, Ulder Ravengard, was elected to Duke.

An election that only happened because the prior head of the Flaming Fist—Abdel Adrian—was assassinated.

Now Abdel Adrian was a beloved member of Baldur's Gate. He was a retired adventurer, who had gone on to lead the Flaming Fist and then become Duke. One of his nicknames is literally The Hero of Baldur's Gate. As Blaze of the Flaming Fist, Ulder Ravengard was his second in command. There is no world in which Abdel Adrian and Wyll are not familiar with one another. It is likely that they were close and probable that Wyll regarded him as one of his personal heroes. And then Abdel Adrian was assassinated on returning day in 1482 DR, in front of a large crowd of Baldurians. Except assassinated isn't quite right. You see Abdel Adrian was a Bhaalspawn, overcoming his parentage to become a hero of Baldur's Gate. Bhaalspawns are compelled to seek out other spawn destroy them and it was a fellow Bhaalspawn who attacked him. Eventually one of them emerged victorious from the fight but we do not know which one. The other turned into a Bhaalspawn Slayer and attacked the crowd before eventually being slain by the Flaming Fist and a nearby group of Adventurers.

Let that sink in.

Wyll was almost certainly in said crowd on that day. His father would have most likely ushered him away, perhaps into the care of someone he trusted, before going to join the fight himself. Many people were killed in the ensuing fight, including many of the Flaming Fist. It is very likely Wyll knew several of the people who died, he definitely knew Abdel Adrian.

And there would be no time to mourn. As soon as Abdel Adrian's death was confirmed, Ulder Ravengard would be acting Marshall of the Flaming Fist and on his way to being voted in as Duke. Suddenly everyone and anyone would be interested in getting to know Wyll, pegging him as an easy ticket to get at his father. And meanwhile Wyll is suffering the loss of some of the most important people in his life.

Likely a celebration would be held in honor of his father's new position. It would make sense for it to be held by the Portyrs. And then Wyll is suddenly thrust into a celebration with little supervision, his father being dragged off to play politics. And so maybe he has a little too much to drink, because everyone wants to talk to him and Wyll just wants to mourn in peace.

And in the end he throws up in Dillard Portyr's bushes. And now, years later, Wyll plays it off for laughs. It's funny, really, when you think about it. His father's big day and Wyll's just off puking in the bushes.

Wyll is always playing his suffering off for laughs.

Maybe it's a silly throwaway line.

Or maybe it's not.

[ghostbsuter]

Sometimes.

Just sometimes.

Bruce, tired father of too many children, wished for a small break.

Just a tiny one.

He pinched his nose, cowl covering his head and expression and glared.

"I can't believe you snitched on me!" Billy batson, freshly revealed teen and sitting on his usual spot during meetings, hisses.

"If I have to get parented, so do you!" Danny fenton, also freshly revealed teenager, glared right back.

"Boys." Both their attention snapped to wonder woman, still tense and warry.

"Do you two have adult supervision, at least." Batman asks, feeling slightly more drained than before, he can feel Nightwing's stare at the back of his head, coming closer.

"Do the voices count?" Danny asks, to which Billy nodded. "Yeah, do they? Zeus has strong opinions, and many kids. He probably can parent, somewhat."

They shrugged both, like they hadn't just opened another whole can of questions.

"Wait!" Danny snapped his fingers, "what about clocky? He sends us on time missions, has his own lair, and lets us hang around. That counts? Right?"

The other teen nods in agreement.

(Knowing both are black haired and blue-eyed teens, he already knows Dick will never let him live this down. Deceived by children, for YEARS.)

(So much for being the greatest detective.)

(The text he sent to Alfred is between him and his butler dad.)

"Or—"

In the end, the two agreed reluctantly to stay around for a while. The Kents, the Allens, Diana, and the Waynes have opened up their homes to house them permanently.

Much their amusement, they declared, that to make no one jealous, they'd switch homes every other week or so.

That alone smelled like chaos.

Whatever, it was Diana's first week.

(And if the house of mysteries appeared in front of them sometimes, that's also between them and a very suffering John constantine.)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [17]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Warning: eMoTiOnAl DaMaGe

Part 16 | Fic Masterlist | Part 18

How dare he—

Jongho gritted his teeth, his fists tightening at the despicable tactics the fourth prince employed to disrupt your relationship with the general. Usually composed, the assistant struggled to contain his rising anger, feeling an overwhelming urge to resort to violence.

Meanwhile, all Eunsook cared about was your well-being. She empathised with your past, knowing all too well the horrors you endured in your old home. The idea of being married to someone potentially more ruthless than your previous abusers must have been terrifying. Despite understanding the reasons behind her master's actions, she acknowledged his moral ambiguity.

Her only wish was for you to accept that he would never hurt you.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions stirred by the revelation that Seonghwa might have been involved in more than just supervising your father's punishments, your expression remained unreadable. Yeosang held his breath, watching you intently, half-expecting a reaction of terror or betrayal. Whether it was shock, anger, or disbelief, he anticipated something negative.

Desperation clawed at the prince's heart as he clung to his last resort, willing it to work. Foolish as it might seem, the truth was he had no prior experience in wooing anyone, let alone a married woman committed to another. He fumbled in the dark, unsure of the right ways to win your heart, driven only by the conviction that he could be a better husband than General Park.

In his mind, he painted a picture of himself as the ideal partner for you, one who would treat you with the care and affection he believed you deserved. He saw himself as the only one who could truly understand the pain etched into your body, just as you might understand his. And so, he resolved to pursue you relentlessly, even if it meant resorting to drastic measures that could potentially cause you further trauma.

For the fourth prince, the ends justified the means. If it meant having you by his side, it would all be worth it. He vowed to spend the rest of his days showering you with nothing but love and kindness to make up for what he put you through today.

It's time you come to me now, darling.

However, he was in for a rude awakening if he believed you would run into his arms seeking comfort after learning the terrifying truth about the monster your husband turned out to be.

Instead, after a moment of collecting yourself, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, a newfound intensity burning within your gaze, "I'm sorry if this offends you, Your Highness, but what exactly do you hope to achieve by showing and telling me all of this? My husband acted as he did because those people deserved it. As for my father, if you could even call him that, he abused me all my life and killed my mother; he deserved whatever my husband gave him and more."

Though the revelations about the general's potential actions during those extra hours unsettled you, your anger shifted towards Yeosang for bringing them to light in such a manner. Clenching your fists to conceal your trembling hands, you remained resolute. Even if you didn't condone Seonghwa's actions, he was still your husband, and your love for him remained unchanged.

As you stood there, the annoyance toward the fourth prince simmered within you, each word he uttered adding fuel to the fire. From the very beginning, he had refused to acknowledge your new title as Lady Park, a small but significant act of disrespect. Then, he persisted in bringing up topics from your past, despite your obvious discomfort and desire to move on. Now, his deliberate attempts to tarnish the general's image felt almost like a personal attack.

The sarcasm laced in his words when speaking of your husband grated on your nerves. Seonghwa had sacrificed so much for the country, and the least he deserved was respect. It dawned on you now what San had meant about Yeosang's difficult nature. You finally understood why the prince's behaviour could be infuriating.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from concern to awe as they watched you stand your ground against the fourth prince's attempts to undermine your husband. At that moment, it became clear to them that perhaps their worries had been for nothing all along. They should have had more faith in your unwavering love and loyalty to their master.

Yeosang's confidence faltered as he observed your stern expression and heard the firmness in your voice. This was not the reaction he had anticipated from you. Perhaps he had underestimated the depth of your love and loyalty to General Park.

Could the Queen have been right all along?

Feeling a sense of urgency and realising he had no other viable option, His Highness took a deep breath and decided to come clean about his intentions once and for all. He couldn't risk angering you any further than he already had. It was time to be honest, even if it meant facing the consequences of his actions.

The smugness that had once characterised his demeanour now vanished, replaced by a palpable sense of shame as he lowered his head slightly, "I... gosh, I am sorry, my lady. I acknowledge that it was wrong of me to manipulate the situation like that. I'll be honest with you. There was no actual banquet planned. In truth, I haven't celebrated my birthday in years. It only serves as a painful reminder of my existence."

Your brows furrowed in apprehension as you listened, allowing him to continue with his explanation, "I take it you're wondering why I despise my own existence. You're likely unaware of my reputation, unlike others. You may have noticed the birthmark here," he gestured to the red mark on the side of his face, prompting a nod from you.

He offered a faint smile, "Throughout my life, I've been treated like a freak because of this mark. As a member of the royal family, I'm sure you're aware there's an expectation of flawless appearance. So, imagine the shock when they saw the fourth prince with such a conspicuous blemish, my parents included. Both within and beyond the palace walls, people have whispered about my birth, deeming it a curse, questioning if I should have even been born at all."

"Since reaching adulthood, I've rejected numerous marriage proposals. Every woman presented to me has regarded me with disdain in their eyes. But then I met you, my lady, that day in the cherry blossom garden. You were the first person to wear your own mark proudly, without a trace of revulsion. It was as if you saw beyond my appearance. I suppose you could say it was love at first sight for me. I'm in love with you, Miss Jang, and that's why I've brought you here today—to propose to you."

Everything suddenly fell into place.

The puzzle pieces of his behaviour over the past days and weeks finally clicked together, forming a clear picture. Empathy flooded your heart as you realised the depth of his struggles. You knew all too well what it felt like to be singled out, treated like an outsider even by those closest to you, and shown no respect despite your status.

However, you felt a pang of shock upon learning about his feelings for you and his pursuit. It was unexpected, to say the least. You hadn't imagined that he harboured such emotions, especially considering the complexities of your respective situations.

Observing your softened demeanour while listening to the prince's confession, Jongho and Eunsook felt a resurgence of worry. They understood Yeosang's struggles and empathised with his difficult life. Despite that, they couldn't ignore the fact that you were a married woman. Regardless of what His Highness may have gone through, pursuing someone who was already committed was inherently wrong.

The two of them exchanged a concerned glance, silently acknowledging the complexity of the situation. While they sympathised with the prince, they couldn't condone his actions, especially his attempt to come between you and your husband using such underhanded tactics.

Your chaperones would soon find reassurance in your response after a moment of contemplative silence. With a deep inhale, you attempted to offer Yeosang a smile, despite the earlier anger you felt towards him, "Look, Your Highness, I understand the hardships you've endured, and probably continue to endure. I genuinely empathise with you. I'm also truly grateful to have met you. I've never had any friends before, so meeting someone who shares similar interests means a lot to me."

His Highness grinned sadly, "Ah yes, I'm sensing a 'but' there."

With a light chuckle, you nodded, "But it's precisely because I see you as a friend and care about you that I want you to understand that whatever you think you might feel for me isn't love."

He stared at you with wide eyes, but you halted him before he could protest, "Perhaps you've mistaken the feelings of gratitude and joy from finally meeting someone who treats you sincerely for love," You gently explained, "My prince, love doesn't simply happen at first sight like that. It requires much more than that; two people must go through so much together before they truly understand their feelings. I've been through it myself, and I can assure you that what you're feeling is definitely not love."

"Lastly, please address me as Lady Park. I haven't gone by Miss Jang for a while now. While we can remain friends, I must insist that you respect my marriage and abandon any plans you may have. My heart belongs solely to the general, and that won't change."

You sighed at the pleading look in the prince's eyes, understanding that convincing him wouldn't be easy. But you had said your piece, and the rest was up to him to realise. Feeling the onset of a headache from everything, you bowed one final time, saying, "If there's to be no banquet as you've mentioned, we'll be taking our leave then. Thank you for having us today, Your Highness. I wish you happiness."

I'm almost there, my love.

Nearly two days had passed when Seonghwa finally arrived back in the city and approached his own estate. The journey had been one of the most challenging he had ever undertaken. He cursed his injury for slowing him down, as he had to make several stops to rest and change his bandages, mimicking the actions of the medical team soldiers who had tended to him. Despite his urgency to leave camp, he had taken care to pack enough supplies to last the trip back.

Regardless of the constant yearning to be with you again, he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving his army behind abruptly due to such personal matters. If his soldiers knew about his absence, some might consider him irresponsible for his actions.

Shaking his head, he recalled how he used to criticise some of his men distracted by thoughts of their loved ones during battles, viewing them as foolish for letting such distractions affect them. If someone had told him he would act similarly in the future, he wouldn't have believed them for a moment.

The things you do to me, my wife.

The mere thought of seeing and being near you again made his heart flutter. He admitted to himself that he had become one of those fools he once criticised, but he wouldn't change a thing. Experiencing love had shifted his perspective entirely, compelling him to do whatever it took to keep you by his side forever. Having saved you from a life of suffering, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone again. He was determined to be the one to bring you joy, protect you, and stay with you for the rest of your days.

Or... was he really?

His conviction would soon waver as the ominous sensation in the pit of his stomach intensified with each step closer to his home. Alongside it, the pain in his abdomen escalated steadily. What should have been a mere graze now felt like something far more serious. In truth, the discomfort in his insides was becoming unbearable.

Seonghwa gritted his teeth as he clutched the area of his wound one last time, his breath catching in his throat as a sudden wave of pain coursed through him. With a determined exhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to endure the agony that surged within him.

At the entrance of his estate, the staff responsible for guarding widened their eyes in recognition of their master's arrival. He quickly straightened his posture, putting on a facade of strength to conceal any signs of his injury, "Master, you're back!" One of the staff members exclaimed, their surprise evident as they rushed forward to assist him down from his horse.

Within moments, Jongho emerged from the estate, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he hurried to the general's side, "Sir, I assume you've received my letter?"

Your husband nodded, "I did. His Highness also sent me one, mentioning his intention to propose to your mistress."

The assistant's eyes rounded in surprise, realising the extent of the fourth prince's confidence to openly declare his intentions to pursue you to the general, "Well, he certainly made the attempt."

Seonghwa's steps faltered at this revelation, and he turned to face Jongho, who seemed equally uneasy, "So, it's already happened?"

Nodding, the younger man blinked anxiously, "S-sir, it's not good. The mistress knows," The general felt his blood run cold at that, but he pressed on, "Please, be more specific."

Jongho swallowed hard, bowing his head apologetically, "She learned about the Jang family's punishments and what you've done to the former minister. The prince took us to the palace torture chambers as part of his scheme. While she stood her ground there, she demanded that I tell her everything that happened as soon as we got back."

Suddenly, Seonghwa understood the source of his ominous feeling. He should have known better than to believe he could keep the truth hidden from you forever. Surely, your compassionate heart would struggle to accept what he did. Taking a shaky breath, he asked, "Where is she now?"

"She's in the House of Lotus, sir. She hasn't left since we returned from the palace two days ago. But don't worry, Eunsook has been making sure she eats her meals." Jongho reassured him.

With a nod of gratitude towards the assistant, your husband made his way towards your quarters, passing by the head maid who was taken aback by his sudden appearance. She knew he should have still been at the warzone. However, a quick glance from Jongho conveyed that the master had returned because of their letter. Understanding dawned on her, and she could only hope for the best.

The general's breath hitched as he laid eyes on you again after so long. There you sat in the pavilion, your attention fixed on the lotus pond before you. You appeared just as radiant as the last time he had seen you. However, this time, instead of your usual lady etiquette books laid open, his heart lurched at the reports detailing your father's latest status beside you. These confidential documents, presented to Seonghwa monthly, tracked the former minister's movements. Biting back the wince that threatened to escape him, he ignored the increasing pain in his abdomen and called out your name.

As your head snapped up at the familiar voice, you gasped at the sight of your husband at the entrance of your quarters. Slowly rising from your seat, you cautiously approached him, unsure if this was a hallucination. For so long, you had imagined him here, in this very spot, so many times that you couldn't count. You hoped it was not your mind playing tricks on you again.

This isn't another dream, is it?

You didn't understand why he was back; there was no news about the war being over yet. It's not that you didn't want him here, you just didn't expect him to be here all of a sudden. Standing before him, you felt your eyes water and your heart pound from seeing him again. It took you a moment to process his presence before you whispered, "S-Seonghwa... what are you doing here?" When he did not respond, you noticed his gaze staring past you at the reports Jongho was forced to hand over to you.

Despite the intense urge to pull you into his arms and never let go, all he manages is to harden his expression, "So, I see you've found out." He said, his voice strained.

This wasn't how either of you had imagined your reunion after the tearful goodbye. With a deep sigh, you nodded grimly, your mind flashing with reminders of your family's physical punishments and the gruesome things he'd done to your father, momentarily shattering the loving image in your eyes, "Yes, I did. And if I hadn't, were you planning never to tell me? What happened to not keeping secrets between us, hm?"

Truth be told, you found yourself no longer harbouring anger towards him for this matter. Over the past two days, you'd taken time to reflect, understanding his perspective and somewhat rationalising his actions. While you weren't exactly upset, you simply desired to hear the whole truth from him directly and perhaps receive a plea for forgiveness. In any case, you were prepared to run into his embrace.

Your words to the prince in the palace were sincere. Your heart belonged only to Seonghwa, and that wouldn't change. You firmly believed in the strength of your love, likening it to the resilience of your lotus flowers, enduring despite the obstacles. This situation, you believed, was just one more challenge to overcome together.

But instead of giving you the response you expected, your heart sank at the cold smirk he wore before speaking, "That's right, I never would have told you the truth if it were up to me. You women are so troublesome; it was stupid of me to think I could actually handle one for the rest of my life. Besides, what difference would it have made? This is who I am, and you knew about my reputation from the moment you were promised to me. So, are you really that surprised?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned away from you, adding, "You've seen the reports. Now that you know what I'm capable of, I won't bother hiding anything from you any longer."

His words pierced your heart like daggers, leaving you reeling in disbelief. Shaking your head in denial, you whimpered his name, hoping for some semblance of the man you loved to emerge from behind that cold facade. This wasn't what you wanted from him. You wanted him to fight for you, to reassure you of his love, just as you had done for him. Confusion gnawed at your insides.

Why wasn't he fighting for you?

What was going on?

"Seonghwa, I-I don't understand—"

Before you could finish, he cut you off abruptly, his words laced with finality, "Yes, it was me. I did all those horrible things to your family. That's the kind of monster I am. But now, you're free. Your family is gone, and no one can dictate your choices anymore. You're your own person. You can do whatever you want and love whoever you want. If it's the fourth prince you wish to be with, you have my blessing. Maybe he's the one who can give you the companionship you desire."

With that, he turned and stormed out of your quarters, leaving you alone and bewildered, with no assurance of his return.

Once out of your sight, he released a shaky breath and clutched his wound, feeling the fabric already soaked with blood seeping through his bandage. Despite his blurring vision, he stumbled through the estate, desperate to depart before anyone noticed his condition. Seonghwa wasn't oblivious; he knew he must have been poisoned when the pain of his injury became too unbearable.

With a sinking feeling, he realised he didn't have much time left, and perhaps Prince Yeosang was right. Maybe what you truly needed was a husband who would consistently stay by your side and not cause you the worry he did.

I'm sorry, my love. This is for the best.

« Preview of Part 18 »

"Physician Jung, there's a letter for you."

Yunho furrowed his brows, pausing his work on his latest concoction aimed at alleviating all of your scars. Despite the challenges he faced in this endeavour, he remained steadfast in his commitment to helping you restore your skin to its original state.

Setting aside the herbs he was working with, he approached the entrance of his quarters to accept the letter from Jongho, "For me?"

The younger man nodded in confirmation, "Yes, oddly enough, it arrived via a military messenger. Initially, I assumed it was intended for the general, but it's specifically addressed to you. General Officer Song requests your urgent attention."

Blinking, the doctor processed the information, "Wait, do you mean General Park has returned to the estate?"

Jongho smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah. He arrived unannounced just a while ago, thanks to our letter. I suppose the situation at the warzone must have calmed down if he's able to return so quickly. He's with the mistress now. Let's hope things will improve with him here."

Relieved, Yunho nodded and quickly unfolded the letter. His stomach dropped, and his eyes widened at the hastily scribbled words, "H-he's with the mistress, you say?"

"Yes, what about it?" The assistant furrowed his brows in confusion as he watched Yunho shove the letter back into his hands before bolting out. Reading the letter himself, he soon found himself rushing in the same direction, dread filling his being.

No, this can't be.

I was so excited that I got to writing this as soon as I completed all the assignments for the first half of my semester! Only three parts until the end of this story, how we feeling out there?🤧

Holy crap, thank you so much for 1.4k followers! As always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (9/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex scene with Alys from the past, smut, the angst, description of a drug overdose, murder by shot in the head, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After everything that had happened, according to his suspicions, all hell broke loose: Daemon's anger over the fact that they had dared to kidnap and imprison his daughter was great. Helaena, Daeron and his mother stayed in the house almost all the time under the supervision of their bodyguards, so that the unpleasant consequences of what was happening would not reach them.

Daemon's gangsters tried to forcibly take over what was rightfully theirs: brothels, clubs, restaurants, however, they were met with resistance, as they had no intention of moving from their place and giving them anything.

The comical thing was that, although the law was on his side, Daemon could not use the help of the police: their discovery of how widespread the money laundering and drug smuggling was would have given them all life imprisonment, and the premises would have been seized by the State for as long as the prosecution considered it good for the case.

For the first time in years there were real shootings and on several occasions, had it not been for his reflexes, a bullet would have pierced his arm or leg when he was just walking to the car park or leaving the club.

Despite what common sense would dictate, he didn't feel terrified: on the contrary, some part of him wanted a challenge, a release, anything that would make him stop thinking about what he had done to her.

He couldn't forgive himself for showing her weakness, for crying in her presence like a small child, for begging her forgiveness only to find after a while that he missed her, that he had suffered through their separation and the fact that he had lost her.

One part of him wanted to forget her but the other ached to prove to her that in some fucked up way he could change.

To become a different kind of monster, one that wouldn't devour her, but protect her.

He planned what he wanted to do with meticulous care, as if he were going off to war. He knew that Larys Strong was preoccupied with what was going on, thinking they were focused on Daemon, he meanwhile was lavelling between them, trying to pick up customers from both sides.

He was like a disgusting snake whose head he wanted to trample on, but mostly because he dared to threaten her.

He wanted to make sure that this piece of shit would disappear from the face of the earth.

He initiated the only person in his industry he trusted, namely Alys, into his plan.

"Why?" She asked, smoking a cigarette with him by the wide-open window in her flat, sitting in her smart black shirt and trousers, her luscious green irises staring at him anxiously, letting out a mouthful of smoke.

He took a drag, looking blankly out of the window, at the townhouse across the street, seeing her face then as she lay numb in the toilet, and then as she lay in his bed, after he gave her the sleeping drug himself.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, feeling an unpleasant constriction in his chest indicating that he was remorseful.

"He was the one who gave my niece the rape pill." He sighed, tilting his head back, spreading himself more comfortably in the chair with a loud creak of wood.

Alys stared at him in silence for a long time, her cigarette slowly burning out between her fingers.

"I met her. Your niece. A few weeks ago in the Red Sun pub." She hummed, taking another drag, not taking her eyes off him.

He knew she had noticed that something flashed across his face at the mention of her – involuntarily he turned his head away and swallowed hard, clenching his free hand into a fist.

Alys chuckled under her breath, blowing smoke out of her mouth straight at him as she spoke her next words.

"Daemon showed her what you did to Robert."

He stared ahead, fiddling with the packet of cigarettes lying on the table in front of him, feeling his heart in his throat.

So that's how she found out, he thought with regret.

"How did she react?" He asked involuntarily.

"The poor girl was in shock. Her uncle turned out to be less understanding than she might have thought." She muttered, leaning forward, resting her body weight on her elbows.

He couldn't look at her, afraid she would see what he so desperately wanted to hide from her.

"Was that her name that you accidentally blurted out then?" She asked, making him feel an unpleasant squeeze in his throat and a burning wetness under his eyelids.

The prove that she was right.

The nights with Alys had been simple: they'd taken care of business and then fucked. They knew they were both broken: what they were doing had warped and deformed them as individuals, and by giving each other intimacy they were simultaneously comforting each other in their misery.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, tilting his head back, his hands clenched in her hair so tightly that he heard her hiss from between his thighs. Her nails dug warningly into his hip, signalling him not to overdo it.

He couldn't believe how good she was at sucking cock, with what ease her tongue rolled around it's delicate, pink head while clamping her lips so that she squeezed it with each of his thrusts deep into her warm throat.

He was aroused by her directness, by the fact that she only wanted to satisfy and be satisfied, exactly as he did.

"– stop – 'm close –" He exhaled as he felt his erection begin to throb vigorously and twitch deep inside her mouth, causing her to let him out with a loud, perverted click of her saliva.

His manhood was all red and pulsing, glistening from his precum and her wetness, pleasant warmth in his belly.

Alys wasted no time in pulling her black lace panties off her legs, allowing him to turn her onto her stomach as usual. He positioned himself between her thighs, spreading her soft, full buttocks like a fruit, sinking into her warmth with a loud sigh of relief.

Only then, when he couldn't see her face, he was able to close his eyes and sink into his most sickening, dark fantasy.

As he slid slowly into her, in his imagination he could see the terrified, hot look in her eyes, her sweet lips wide open, her soft, fleshy cunt clenched around his swollen erection, throbbing with longing, making him run out of breath, her hands simultaneously pushing him away and holding him close.

"– Aemond – no, no, we can't – we can't –" His niece mewled in his mind, whimpering softly and innocently, afraid that someone would hear them, that her brothers would find out what he was doing to her, how greedily he was opening her slick walls on his fat cock again and again, unable to stop.

"– oh baby –" He mumbled.

He heard another sound too, a lower one – Alys moaned feeling him involuntarily quicken his pace, thrusting deep between her leaking, convulsing folds. Frustrated, he clamped his hand in her hair, pressing her face harder against the duvet, not wanting to hear her now.

He had never kissed Alys or any other woman. When they tried to do this, he felt only disgust and turned his head away – the act seemed to him too tender, too intimate, and on top of that, it reminded him of her, the taste of her lips, her warm breath on his face, her sweet scent.

For this reason, too, he never stayed up all night or went to sleep with the women he fucked: their arms, their embrace was not the one he longed for, their words, their skin, their fingers, their faces, their hair, everything was different, different, different, foreign, distant, repulsive.

Alys knew.

She felt it subconsciously.

"– are you thinking about her now? – " She breathed out, making him involuntarily bite his lower lip and groan throatily, his hips began to slam against her ass faster and faster, bringing him closer with each thrust to fulfilment deep inside her.

She didn't know her identity, but she knew she existed and that he wasn't able to forget about her.

"– would you like her to be so fucking wet for you? – to take you in so easily? – for her little pussy to clench around your cock? – to come inside her? –" She exhaled, and he groaned, imagining that she wanted it, that she craved his cum deep inside her pretty, innocent body, slamming between his niece's thighs like a mad.

"– u-uncle – uncle, uncle, uncle, oh God, oh my fucking God, please –" He heard her vulnerable whines, feeling a squeeze in his testicles, hot wave of pleasure ran through his lower abdomen and stomach.

"– f-fuck, Rhaenys –" He mumbled and came with a loud gasp, feeling her spasming cunt begin to clench against his twitching erection, along with him going through the wonderful relief that shook his body.

He froze, panting loudly and opened his eyes only to see that Alys was grinning wildly.

She was proud of herself.

She loved to torment him.

"– Rhaenys –" She said after him, intrigued, without shadow of regret or pain on her face. "– what a pretty name –"

"– 'm sorry – forget about it –" He mouthed, completely panicked, sliding out of her with a loud click of their moisture, feeling his heart pounding like a mad in fear.

He thanked God that it wasn't her real name.

"– why? – tell me more about her – it's touching in some way that you are so deeply in love with her –" She hummed, turning onto her back.

He quickly zipped up his trousers, for some reason unable to look at her bare body now, furious at her remark.

"Fuck no." He growled.

Alys twisted in her place, surprised.

"Aemond."

"I don't want to talk about it. That's not why I came here." He said in frustration, grabbing his Tshirt, putting it aggressively over his head.

She sighed heavily, leaning her back against the bed frame, looking at him intently.

"You are adorable when you are mad."

He looked at her, seeing in her eyes that she knew she'd hit the nail on the head and ran his hand over his face.

"Have you fulfilled your fantasies with her? Then, during your father's birthday. After all, he invited your whole family." She sneered, cocking her head.

He shuddered, looking at her shocked and horrified, feeling like a little boy caught in the act.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you don't want to help me with what I came to you with, just say so." He hissed too quickly, too angrily and too helplessly, and the corner of Alys' mouth twitched in a grin.

"Did you stop talking to her when her mother married Daemon through a conflict of interest or because you knew that as an uncle you shouldn't moan your niece's name during your climax?" She asked, and he felt his lips part in a shuddering, uneven breath.

"You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted."

Her cold, mocking words stayed with him all night: she didn't give him a clear answer as to whether she would help him, but she let him know that she didn't intend to interrupt him.

She had no love for Larys Strong and would benefit from his disappearance herself.

Although the plan was different, more complicated and sublime, he drove straight to Heavenly Beach.

You betrayed that poor little girl even though she gave you everything you wanted.

When it was all over, he decided that his success had been determined by the effect of the surprise: when he walked into Larys's office, he greeted him with a smile, standing up, apparently wanting to offer him something to drink and ask what he was coming to him with.

The bodyguard didn't even think to take his gun away from him.

He was just his grandfather's faithful dog, nothing more.

And yet, when he pointed it at his head and simply fired, shooting him right in the forehead, Larys seemed surprised and staggered backwards, falling numbly like a heavy wooden puppet to the floor.

He fled through the back exit, the door by which the bar staff were leaving for a cigarette, and although he hoped that one of the shots he heard behind him among the screams would reach him, it did not.

Apart from the shattered rear window of the car and the wrath of his grandfather, no other consequences of his act reached him.

"Do you know what you did? Larys was filling our pockets with money."

"And also emptied them." He hissed, watching as Otto paced around the room while he sat in his chair, pleased with himself as never before.

For some reason he felt a sense of pride.

"You are a fool. You did it out of a private desire for revenge. You acted rashly and thoughtlessly. You have failed me for the last time." He said in a manner from which he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Aegon will take over the whole business, not you."

When he finally returned to his flat he felt rage and relief, disappointment and euphoria at the same time, feeling like he had completely lost his mind.

Vhagar watched him from across the room, seeing him throw things off tables and cupboards, afraid to approach him, her tail tucked under her belly.

He had killed him for her.

He sacrificed himself for her.

He lost his inheritance for her.

And she was not with him.

He felt in that moment that he loved her and hated her at the same time.

The dreams in which he killed Larys again and again came back to him every night, making him wake up drenched in cold sweat: he saw in them how he gouged out his eyes, how he cut off his limbs before her eyes, listening to her screams and her cries, her pleas for him to stop.

By having his grandfather reduce his role to the bare minimum of collecting money and handing over goods, he could finally concentrate on his studies during the day. To his surprise, sinking into the thick textbooks she had brought him was liberating, as if a new, previously unknown part of the world had opened up to him.

He was going to attend the exam.

He hoped to see her there.

He filed the documents in person and, as he was leaving the University, he spotted one of Daemon's bodyguards smoking a cigarette in the car park from a distance.

They had been watching her the whole time.

Good, he thought.

He knew that if anyone saw him there Daemon would take her out immediately and that was why he had to be more careful.

On the day of the exam, he felt like a small child: even though he knew what he had to prepare for and had gone through specific chapters many times, standing with a group of young people peering at his face and scar he felt alien, even though he hoped it would be different.

Even when he tried, he couldn't fit in, blend in with the crowd.

To his surprise, he found the exam itself trivial: too simple for his taste. He recognised that he had surely made some mistake when reading the questions, that there was something tricky about them, that he would make a fool of himself.

However, reading what he had written again and again he thought he had given the correct answers and just gave up, walking out of the room, dismayed and disappointed.

He felt like he had been pierced by lightning when he saw her standing in the corridor, looking at him with her mouth wide open. He felt a pleasant heat in his chest at the thought that she had come, for him, just for him, and then he looked to the side and saw who was standing next to her.

His hands clenched into a fist as her ex-boyfriend reached out to him, fumbling some sort of goof about how nice it was to meet him, pretending to be open and welcoming.

His niece saw immediately the danger that lurked behind his furious expression.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked him in a trembling voice.

He thought she had only taken him with her for safety, as she was afraid to come to him alone, and affectionately concluded that she was a wise girl.

"Are you sure?" Her ex asked her, making him feel his jaw clench in rage.

"Didn't you hear what she said?" He sneered harshly, throwing him a look full of boredom and disapproval, wanting to show him that he was losing patience.

He had done his part and there was certainly nothing more between them, so he could fuck off.

Robb clearly didn't like the tone of his voice.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." He said in a way he didn't like, but all it took was a movement in his direction for his niece to stand in front of him, looking straight into his face with her big eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

"That's enough." She said. "Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?"

He swallowed hard, looking away with his heart beating fast, feeling the hot shame spread across his lower abdomen.

He won't hurt me.

When Robb finally left them alone she shook her head with an expression on her face as if she regretted coming to see him at all and turned, startling him by going the other way.

"It was a mistake."

"– no – no, wait –" He moved behind her, immediately grabbing her arm, pulling her closer, as close as possible, smelling her body and her hair again, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs.

He let his hand embraced her waist, pressing his forehead into her temple, wanting to take refuge in her, feeling thirsty for her presence, her words, her warm gaze full of understanding.

"– are you two together again? –" He whispered involuntarily, wanting to be sure that this bastard was no longer a threat to her, that he didn't have to worry about him hurting her again.

He swallowed hard when he heard her cold laughter full of frustration, feeling a stinging discomfort in his stomach.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She asked drily.

Why did she avoid answering?

Why did she speak in this way?

"– do you love him? –" He muttered, and she shook her head, furious, trying to push him away.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, but he clamped his hands on her back and snuggled her body into his, sinking his nose into her wonderfully soft, warm cheek, feeling how his erection reacted with an aggressive, joyful pulsing to her closeness.

How was he ever going to let anyone else have her?

How would he ever get over it?

There was no way back now.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered and felt her stop resisting him, her whole body frozen in stillness.

He sighed quietly, leaning in, his lips swollen with desire as he began to place wet, hot, lingering kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck with every word he spoke.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –"

He felt her hands tighten on the material of his shirt as a quiet cry left her lips, and he, feeling an involuntary desire to protect her from this suffering, cuddled her face into his neck, wanting to hide her, to bury her deep within himself, to be her stone fortress in which she could hide.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered in a way from which he froze.

There was no satisfaction or relief in her words.

She was sad.

This revelation, the thought that some part of her wanted this child as much as he did, caused his full lips to place a tender, drawn-out kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –"

We just have to try again.

He couldn't believe how easy it had been for him to say that, to accept that he was sick, that he had just told his own niece that they should fuck again, because that way they would perhaps have the baby they so wanted.

His life had reached such a level of absurdity that it no longer seemed impossible to him.

He heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked by what had left his mouth.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mouthed, choking on her own tears, however, instead of pushing him away she snuggled into him tighter, clasping her hands on his back.

She sought her comfort in him, in her tormentor, because he was the only one who understood what she was going through.

There was something simultaneously beautiful and tragic about this, he thought.

He had destroyed her.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back as if she were a small child, pressing his face against her temple, wanting to show her that he was there for her and that this would never change.

His words written on a piece of paper then, in the hospital.

I will always watch over you.

They both flinched and moved away from each other when her phone began to ring and it appeared that her father's bodyguard who had been waiting for her had begun to grow impatient.

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She muttered with difficulty, terrified, making him feel like locking her in his embrace and never letting her go.

She was so sad, so tired, so vulnerable.

He knew, he felt, that they would both experience true relief, true rest only in each other's arms, in the tight union of their hot, sweaty, naked bodies.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said, leaving him alone, not bestowing a single glance on him.

And then her ex-boyfriend humiliated her in front other students, saying some bullshit about her lack of self-respect as he watched them from afar.

As soon as she was out of his sight he walked up to him – Robb looked at him horrified and took a step back, wanting to run away.

"I feel like smashing your skull for what you dared to say, but I won't do it for her sake. You will never speak to her that way again. What's more, you won't speak to her at all, or I'll make your face no longer beautiful. Do you understand?" He asked, and Robb nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes.

"One ill-considered word from you. One look from her colleagues that I don't like and that reveals to me that you told someone about it, and your life will become very, very difficult. Mate." He sneered and sidestepped him, heading for his car, seeing that his niece and her father's bodyguard had driven off.

When he got back to his flat he thought he felt strangely calm: the thought that she had come to see him, that she still cared about what would happen to him, who he would be filled him with contentment and satisfaction.

He was not indifferent to her.

She could not hate him.

Vhagar, though uneasy in his presence for days, that evening approached him of her own accord wagging her tail. Though he did not usually do so, he allowed her to jump onto his bed, his broad hand stroking her large head. She licked his fingers, sniffing them beforehand with curiosity and he thought with a smile that she had smelt her scent.

"I saw her today, Vhagar. I saw my little girl." He hummed, scratching her behind the ear, letting her big furry body lie beside him on the bedding.

And then she called to him, furious and indignant, demanding an explanation.

Something about the way she spoke made him think she was charming when she was angry, surprising him with her directness.

However, this made him the one who wrote to her every day from then on, sending her pictures of Vhagar, and although she did not write back to him, he was happy.

He knew that she read his messages and thus he was able to convey his feelings to her, making her realise that there was not a moment that he did not think or miss her.

And then he found an envelope in his letter box with the University's logo on it, and for the first time in years he felt an almost childlike excitement as he ran up the stairs to his flat, thinking that maybe things were finally going to change in his life.

He felt his hands all trembling with emotion as he pulled a piece of paper from the inside and began to read, his heart in his throat when it became clear that his dream had come true.

He had passed.

He got into University.

He didn't know why he called her right away, walking back and forth across his room, smiling like a fool because he had made it, made it, made it.

"Aemond, you can't call me. Is something wrong?"

"I got in. I passed the exam." He said immediately, feeling euphoria, feeling joy, feeling satisfaction.

He wanted to experience it only with her, because only she could understand him, only her words, her appreciation, her joy could give him what he wanted.

"I'm proud of you. I really am." She confessed finally making him feel like bursting into tears, feeling for a moment he ran out of words, his heart pounding like crazy.

"Let's meet to celebrate. Please."

"No."

"Just for a moment. In a public place, in a restaurant, in a café. Wherever you want, wherever you feel safe." He begged, needing her now, her warm gaze, her hand clasped over his, her closeness, her, her, her.

"I can't, Aemond. You know I can't. I will always support you, including about your studies, but after what has happened I can't trust you." She confessed in a trembling voice.

He swallowed hard, feeling with shame that he had turned all red with emotion, and nodded his head, thinking with despair that he understood what she meant, feeling empty.

"– forgive me – I had no right to ask you to do this – it was a mistake resulting from my selfishness – thank you for everything –" He said.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled out in pain, but he hung up, or she would have heard his uneven, heavy breath, the effect of the tears that ran down his face and of which he was so ashamed.

How could he have been so naive to think that she would forgive him?

Would he forgive her if she did the same to him?

He tore up the card the University had sent him, thinking with regret that the sight of him in that building every day would bring back memories she wanted to forget.

He decided that there was no point in her seeing him, that he should respect her request, even though she did not at all want him to give up his dreams for her.

She was more understanding than he deserved.

Although he had never, ever done so, that evening he pulled out from his cupboard a syringe with the drug liquid he had given her that day when she had come to him at his request, wanting to help him.

He only used this narcotic in small amounts when he needed to fall asleep quickly, but this time he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up at all.

He squeezed his forearm with a special rubber band to make it easier to find the right vein under his skin and jabbed the needle into it, letting more of the drug into his system than ever before.

He thought he wanted to know how she felt then.

He imagined her terror, the one when, feeling him still deep inside her, she realised that he had tricked her, betrayed her, that he would do what he wanted with her and her body.

He felt like crying when everything around him blurred, when Vhagar began to bark, nudging him with her wet nose, licking his face. He, however, was only able to breathe, thinking that he was so monstrously tired, his body numb and heavy, as if it weighed hundreds of tons.

It seemed to him that it might have been months or even years before his mind began to awaken: the indistinct light of the lamps around him blinded him and irritated him at the same time, the loud beeping at his ear drove him mad, the stinging discomfort in his wrist seemed unnatural to him. He muttered in displeasure, twisting around, unable to fully open his eyes or rise, feeling dulled and frazzled.

"– no – lie down –" He heard his mother's voice, who had apparently risen from her chair, her familiar hand touching his arm. "– it's okay –"

"– what's going on? –" He choked out, feeling unpleasant anxiety and discomfort, everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"– you overdosed, Aemond –"

He spent the next few days in hospital, trying to recover under the watchful care of his mother and his sister.

He didn't know why he felt disappointment at the news that neither his grandfather nor his older brother planned to visit him, thinking he had acted like a small child merely seeking attention, why he thought they would care about his condition.

He didn't think much of it though, because as soon as he unlocked his phone, he saw three messages from her.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do, what to reply to her words, proof that she still cared about him, even though he didn't deserve it.

That same evening, when his mother was long gone from his side, she called him, making him feel euphoric and terrified at the same time. When he answered and put the phone to his ear he was silent, his heart deep in his throat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly, her voice full of uncertainty.

He swallowed hard, feeling somehow touched by her behaviour, by the fact that she wanted to talk to him despite what he had done to her.

"Exactly as I deserve." He confessed with shame.

"Did you… really want to do this?" She muttered in a trembling voice. He shook his head and laughed under his breath.

"No. I wanted to see how you felt that day."

Something in his words, in the way he said them made her draw in a loud breath.

"Your suffering is not my desire, Aemond. You hurt me, but I don't want revenge. I just want… to stop feeling this unbearable pain in my heart that I have felt in my chest for eight years."

So many unspoken words and feelings slipped through their fingers.

"I regret it so much. I told my grandfather that I didn't want him to involve you, but he said that if we didn't, someone else would want to take advantage of Daemon's weakness for you. And I believed him. I thought that Larys will actually try to do something to you again, but only now do I understand that it was a simple lie that I easily accepted to justify myself. Fuck, I'm so ashamed, baby, I really am."

He mouthed with difficulty, burying his face in his hand, feeling warm tears of shame run down his cheeks, trying to calm his heavy, ragged breath.

"My father took everything from me. I did these fucked-up things to other people for nothing. I mutilated them for nothing. The only thing he left me is the property by the sea, the same one where I lost my eye, as if he had made a mockery of me. I was so lost. I still am."

She was silent for a moment, as if wondering what to respond to his words.

"What do you want, Aemond? Truly. Be honest."

He swallowed hard, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of his life and he couldn't fuck it up.

"I want to study and see you once in a while. In a public place, so that you feel safe."

"And that's it? What about your family? About your business?"

"My grandfather limited my influence and responsibilities after I shot Larys without his knowledge. He no longer trusts me and doesn't assign me important tasks."

She fell silent again, making him feel like he was going mad with the uncertainty, his heart in his throat.

"The University Library." She said finally, and he grunted quietly, trying to calm himself down.

"I don't understand."

"We can meet in the University Library."

"Really?" He asked hopefully, feeling his heart beat harder, hot with excitement.

"Only there and for a short time. Once in a while. If I find out you did something to hurt me or my family, you'll never see me again."

The next day she agreed with him that they would meet in a side area of the library: it was nearing the holidays and most people were either outside or in the main reading room, so she decided that no one should notice or bother them there.

Fifteen minutes in which she was going to help him prepare for his first class, nothing more.

Nevertheless, in his mind it was his chance to prove himself and get things right.

To regain her trust.

He wanted to buy her a bouquet of flowers, however, standing in front of them he had no idea which ones to choose.

What if she doesn't like cut flowers, only ones in a pot?

Should he even hand it to her in the library?

He ran his hand over his face thinking that his deliberations were idiotic and only showed how desperate he was.

Then, however, he decided that instead of a flower he would buy her a strawberry lollipop: since she used strawberry gloss she must have liked the taste and could at least eat it, and he could hide it in the pocket of his trousers.

With this little gift, he turned up at the agreed time, feeling like an excited little boy, all hot and frisky with emotion. Indeed, he spotted her in the back of one of the rooms, sitting on the floor on special large pillows, leaning against the wall with a volume in her hand, bookcases all around her.

She had chosen a place where they would not be seen.

She flinched at the sight of him, her shoulders raised in a defensive gesture, as if frightened by his presence.

"Hi." He mouthed, not knowing what more he could say, his heart pounding like mad.

She blinked and sighed loudly, as if trying to calm herself, her gaze at once warm and watchful.

"Hi."

He walked slowly over to her and pulled off his jacket, laying it on the windowsill, sitting down next to her on one of the cushions, into which he literally sank because of how soft it was.

"I brought you my notes from first year. Read them, if you can't decipher something, I'll try to guess what I wrote. They'll come in handy for you before semester exams." She said immediately, as if afraid of silence or what more he might say, handing him some of her notebooks.

He nodded and took them from her, pressing his lips together, seeing that she had gone back to reading her lecture without looking at him.

"Thank you." He said, unable to do anything other than stare at her, at her shiny dark hair, at her gentle face, at her long eyelashes, at her floral dress fastened at the front with big white buttons.

They were both quiet, but despite the silence, broken only by her flipping the pages, he could feel the tension between them, her figure focused and prepared to flee.

He didn't know why he did it, but he slid a little lower and laid his head on her shoulder, just as she had done back then, during that holiday, reading the book about the Mighty Vhagar with him.

He heard her swallow hard and take a deep breath as his arms tentatively embraced her at the waist, cuddling into her like a small child.

He felt her twitch, her chest began to quiver as if she felt like crying. Feeling this, he stroked the side of her waist, his lips placing a gentle, reassuring kiss on her soft, fragrant skin.

"– please –" She muttered.

"– I have a gift for you –" He said, dreading what she was about to say. She involuntarily glanced at his arm as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers and took out a rose-shaped lollipop.

"– I didn't know what kind of flowers you like, so I bought one like this – the sales lady said it has a strawberry flavour –" He explained and she swallowed hard, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a wide, sad smile on her face.

This sight broke his heart.

He pressed his forehead to her temple as she took it shyly from his hand, spinning it between her fingers, staring at it as if he had given her something precious, a ring or a necklace.

"I'll eat it later. I don't want to get the books dirty now. Thank you, that's very kind of you." She said softly and he nodded, his hand involuntarily from her waist rising to her face, letting his fingers run over the warm structure of her skin.

He felt her body relax slightly and they both let their bodies lean back a little, spreading out more comfortably on the large, soft pillows. He swallowed hard as she pressed her head against the hollow of his neck, as her hand lay uncertainly on the spot where his heart was beating.

He locked her in his embrace, kissing lazily the top of her head, feeling that he was completely hard, that he wanted her more than ever, knowing that he couldn't have her now, that he might never feel her like this again, but it didn't matter anymore.

She was with him, in his arms.

"Several of my father's men are dead. They were shot on your grandfather's orders." She whispered, and he swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling, playing involuntarily with the curls of her hair between his fingers.

"I know."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No. My grandfather restricted my field of action after we called the emergency services when you…"

He didn't finish and closed his eyes, seeing her again in the bathtub filled with blood.

They were both silent for a moment, taking comfort from their closeness – her hand ran over his sternum, making a pleasant shiver pass through his body.

"If your grandfather tells you to kill Daemon or my brother. What will you do then?" She asked quietly in a trembling voice.

"I will tell him to do it himself. The times when I was his dog are over and he knows it. He has no idea what to do with me. I'm out of his control." He sneered, sighing heavily, feeling suddenly tired and weary. His niece twisted and raised herself up on her elbow, looking at him with concern.

"What's your plan?" She asked, and he hummed under his breath, sliding his fingers from her neck between her breasts, playing with the buttons of her dress.

"I want to start acting on my own." He said cautiously, watching her reaction carefully. He saw that she tensed all over, looking at him warily.

"What do you mean?"

"If you think there's a way I could escape this world, you're wrong. Even Daemon didn't escaped it, he simply gathered his most trusted people and expanded his influence. I want to do the same, and I will start by taking over Heavenly Beach. Since Larys is dead, chaos has reigned there, and I intend to take advantage of it. Many of my grandfather's people don't like the vision of them having to work for Aegon in the future. They neither respect nor fear him." He said lightly with some kind of pride and mockery, running his fingers up and down her sternum with a smirk.

She had a penknife under her bra.

She shuddered and swallowed hard as he tapped his finger on the spot where his watchful gaze had spotted its shape, pretending he hadn't meant to keep his hand on her breast at all.

"– wise girl –"

"What do you intend to do with my step-father?" She asked in a trembling voice.

He hummed under his breath, looking curiously at her chest, slowly cupping her plump breast in his fingers, thinking how wonderfully it fit the shape of his hand.

"Nothing. I won't attack him first. For you. He has nothing to do with Heavenly Beach." He said softly, spreading himself out more comfortably on the cushion, feeling a pleasant warmth in his belly at the sight of her hand clamping down on his wrist, as if she wanted to simultaneously push him away and draw him to her at the same time.

"– stop – someone will see –" She muttered, looking around quickly to make sure they were still alone in the room.

"I want it back." He whispered. "I want what we had during that summer."

He heard her swallow hard, shocked by his confession.

"I…God, after all, you know it won't work. We can't. No one will accept it, no one will understand. We'll be miserable again." She mumbled pleadingly, feeling his hand move from her breast to her neck, burying itself in her warm, bare skin, her cheeks pink with emotion, her gaze hot and hazy.

"If you don't want it, I'll understand it. What I desire is fucked up, like my whole person. But I want you to know that what happened between us… then, when my father died. It was real. I've never felt more alive and fulfilled than then, being deep inside you. You were so warm." He said, brushing her soft face with his thumb, looking at her beautiful, puffy lips, the taste of which he longed to feel again so much.

"Aemond." She mumbled in embarrassment.

"I don't care how wrong it is. I don't care about morality. I've done far less moral things to other people. Making love to my niece seems to me the smallest of my sins." He confessed, burying his fingers in her smooth, dark hair, the tips of their noses touched as he made her lean towards him.

"Someone might say it's disgusting and wrong, but I only care about what you want. I don't give a shit about others. What they will think of me, whether I live by their rules or not. What can they do to me? Mock me? Fear me? They are already do. It's not about me, it's about you. I don't want to ruin your life." He said, shaking his head, watching her reaction, her eyes grew wide with shock, her lips parted in heavy, deep breaths.

The sight of her bursting into silent, helpless sobs broke his heart: his mouth began to place quick, lingering, loud kisses on her beautiful, rosy face, all swollen with tears.

"– please – please, I don't want you to cry because of me –" He muttered in pain, feeling his voice tremble with emotion, stroking affectionately her head and neck.

He pulled her body closer to him, wanting to embrace her, protect her, hide her from the pain that tormented her so much.

"This is just too much. I wish I could be a child again. To go back to that sea. To fall asleep next to you in that room. I wish I could feel again the peace I felt then. Your presence next to me. But I can't have it." She mouthed, choking on her own tears, making him press his lips together in pain.

"You have it. You have me. You always had."

She froze, looking at him with a hot, hazy look that made him want to take her in the middle of the library.

However, he decided that he wanted and should do something completely different.

"Do you like me?" He asked as one of his hands ran up and down her bare thigh, while the other was slowly stroking her head. She looked at him in silence for a moment and nodded uncertainly, trying to calm herself down.

He thought she looked like a small, terrified child.

"Very much?" He continued and she nodded again, breathing loudly through her mouth.

He smiled involuntarily, cupping her cheek, hot with emotion, in his hand.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Her eyes got big, her eyebrows raised high as she gasped loudly, shocked by his question.

"This time I'm aware of what I'm asking for. What I want. And although I should, I'm not ashamed of it. I have wasted eight years that I could have spent with you, no matter how much we would both have suffered during that time. I want to suffer with you by my side now." He whispered, tucking an unruly strand of her hair behind her ear, looking affectionately at her beautiful, gentle face, all pink with emotion and tears.

"I wish I could trust you, but I don't know if I can." She muttered, making him feel a squeeze in his stomach.

"I know. I'll wait as long as it takes." He said, brushing her cheek with his fingers, wanting to comfort himself and her.

She nodded, sighing heavily, as if she had given up and stopped fighting.

"You can only embrace me and hold my hand. No kisses on the lips and don't try to take me." She muttered.

He chuckled under his breath, feeling as happy as a small boy, cuddling her whole body into his at last, feeling her pleasant warmth, her scent, her closeness.

"Very well." He hummed, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

He saw her frown and grinned widely, cocking his head.

"Your nose is not your lips, is it? Just as your cheeks. Your jaw. Your neck. Your shoulders." He whispered, brushing his full lips over each of the places he mentioned, leaving wet, hot marks on her bare skin. He sighed as he felt her fingers clench on his back, her soft breasts pressing into his chest.

He got his girlfriend back.

______

Author's note: When we started dating, my husband brought me bouquets of lollipops because I don't like cut flowers and I could at least eat this. I think it's such a sweet idea!!!

[priniya]

hi lovie! could you do some percy (or leo, maybe both?? i love them sm hahaha) headcanons abt dating an aphrodite’s child?

I COMPLETELY LOVE THE IDEA OMG??? tysm for requesting anon <3

sorry if it’s not like you imagined it😭 it’s my first time with headcanons like that

dating percy as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .

okay you all gotta admit that if percy could, he would brag about his partner being so beautiful that no one can compete with them

i feel like he’s at the university and some guys are talking and he just waits for a chance to show you off and be like “they are literally a goddess’ child”

BUT IN FRONT OF YOU??? he’d get so awkward even if you were dating for so long

also i’m 100% sure annabeth would sometimes point it out and laugh at the way he turns into a hot mess around you

but tbh you thought it was cute, cus let’s be real. it’s percy jackson, if you weren’t a hot mess around him as well, who would you be?

if you two are sent on a mission together, he rarely thinks about himself first, always making sure you’re okay before he checks himself

in his dorm he probably has pictures of you sticked to the wall in like a heart shape and his roommates might make fun of him for being such a simp but those photos gives him strength whenever you two are apart 🔥

he’s all in for that relationship, he even officially introduced you to both his parents and paul

you taught him how to braid hair and whenever you stay at his mom’s he braid his sister’s hair under your supervision ☹️☹️

when he started dating you he probably became such a gossip guy LIKE hear me out, he started paying attention to details and people’s behavior to talk about it with you

“you won’t believe what i heard today from piper.” “nah, she didn’t told me about it directly, her body language did.”, “i know right, how could he do that to her?”

he’s all in for the tea‼️‼️‼️

OH and also when you began dating he started paying more attention to jewellery and his outfits upgraded so much??

HE IS ALSO SO JEALOUS OF YOU AND HE KISSES YOU IN PUBLIC WHEN HE CATCHES A GUY LOOKING YOUR WAY

“i know you’re a child of aphrodite but these people gotta know i am your ares. or hephaestus.” “wait, am i your ares or hephaestus?”

dating leo as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .

this man is head over heels for you, and i know i said percy also is head over heels for his partner but LEO is on different level

he often drags you to the bunker whenever he feels like it and make you sit there with him, while he crafts something (mostly for you)

that man dedicates all his work for you, like

“oh this? i made it for yn cus they said [insert thing] fall apart so i just… did it.”

ngl he is kind of insecure that you’d left him for a child of ares just like your mother did to his father. even though you reassure him he’s the one on your mind, it still stings him sometimes

getting an approval from your mom wasn’t even that hard as you thought it could be. though she wasn’t exactly the most delighted you were in love with her husband’s child but… love is love right?

pet names in spanish ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

n you would pick it up and surprise him by calling him something in spanish <3

EVEN THOUGH he’s insecure about history repeating itself he jokes about it way too much sometimes 😭😭

brags to jason about you so much jason wants to off himself and i am not kidding

he once asked you to charm-speak him just to see how it feels

“what? don’t be like that, mi amor. i gotta know what’s your power’s like in case you do it subconsciously.”

(that’s literally the dumbest excuse you’d ever hear but didn’t care, considering it was your boyfriend who asked)

MANY people says you remind them of charlie and silena and when you heard it for the first time, you broke down crying because it was such a good compliment

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Make It Hurt

Eris Vanserra x You

Word Count : 2.9k

Summary : After a truly terrible day you come home only to be surprised by the one and only Eris Vanserra and he knows how to make it all better.

Warnings : full on smut, no plot, one singular use of y/n, some swearing, heavy praise kink, dirty talk, heavy use of pet names/honorifics, dom! Eris, dom/sub dynamics, bdsm themes, mention of safeword, impact play (spanking), temperature play, explicit sex described - fingering (f recieving), p in v

Author's Notes : This was whipped up quickly while taking a break from other fics, lightly edited so please forgive any mistakes.

Today was one of the most awful days you’ve had in a long time. You head straight into the shower after returning home, ready to wash the thoughts and emotions of this never ending day away. What you need is a good cry and a bottle of wine. 

As the water washes over you, you let loose the sobs that have been building in your chest all afternoon. After a few minutes of good hard crying, you feel numb. Your mind is spent, your body is tired and you can’t seem to will yourself into getting out of the shower.

From the other side of the curtain, you hear the telltale shuffling of someone entering the bathroom. Eris. He must have finally been able to sneak away from his father’s supervision long enough to see you. It’s been over a week since the last time.

He remains quiet, not announcing his presence. He thinks he is being stealthy and you haven’t heard him. Normally you are singing at the top of your lungs and wouldn’t hear him until it was too late. Suddenly Eris grabs hold of whatever magic heats your water and with his own fire manipulation he wills the temperature to searing.

On any other day the assault of heat raining down on you would have you skittering out of the spray and screaming at him with playful frustration. Today however it feels like just what you needed, even more cathartic than your earlier crying session.

The hot water scalds your skin and the sensation brings you to your knees on the shower floor with a shouting plea.

“Please!” 

In an instant the curtain is torn back. “Fuck. [y/n], are you alright?” Eris’ eyes are wild with worry as he drops his hold on his fire and the water returns to its usual temperature.

“I’m fine,” you sob. “I just need to get out of my head. I need to feel something - else.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He crouches down beside the tub, concern still lacing his features.

“No. Eris -” his name falls from your lips in a gasp. “Make it hurt, please”

The flames within his eyes flare back to life as if they’ve suddenly been fueled with gasoline. His face shifts into that sneering smile he normally reserves for his cruel prince facade as he rises  slowly back to standing.

“Since you said please princess.” The timbre of his voice drops into a sultry purr. “First, tell me your safeword.”

You answer without hesitation. “Inferno”

“Good girl.” With a flick of his wrist, he makes the water as hot as he knows you can handle.

It hits your bare back and you whimper from the shock of it before allowing it to settle into your bones. The sensation is delicious, everything you’ve been craving. With a soft groan, you unfold yourself from the hold you have on your folded knees. Leaning back you allow the water to glide over your front. The heat enveloping your breasts chases all your thoughts away. 

You begin moving on instinct alone, slipping your hands over the wetness of your body and cradling the heaviness of your breasts in your palms. With a pinch, you are at your nipples, rolling them between your fingers and pulling. 

Immediately, the water turns off and you whimper.

“Now, now princess, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Eris’ slithering voice snaps you back into the moment. “That will be your only warning.”

You drop your hands to your lap, steadying your breaths. 

“I said, that will be your only warning princess. Do you understand?”

The shiver of your transgression snakes down your spine. “Yes, my Lord.” 

“Good. Now, up.”

Eris holds out a towel and wraps you in it as you step over the side of the tub. The heat of his arms through the towel are nearly as good as the shower. You stand perfectly still as he towels you dry, only moving limbs as he directs you with a gentle tap of his long fingers. 

Dropping the towel, he heads for the door. You follow behind him silently. Once in the bedroom, he points at the space between the sofa and the fireplace it is placed in front of.

“On your knees, princess.”

Obediently, you take your position, settling your hands in your lap once again. Eris walks over and opens the closet, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his shirt sleeves past the elbow as he makes his selections. The sight of his strong pale arms flexing is almost enough to make you moan. 

Making his way back to the sofa, he settles himself on the cushions, spreading his legs wide. He leans forward, two choices dangling from his fingers. A leather flogger and a hard wooden paddle.

“Take your pick.” 

“The paddle please, my Lord.”

“Good choice my little blaze.” His smile that graces his face is purely predatory. He tosses the flogger over to the other side of the sofa and leans back patting his knee. “Straddle me, sweetheart.”

Rising from the floor you approach him, slipping one knee on either side of his hips and settling back onto his lap, hands resting on your thighs. Eris’ firm hands grip your hips and haul you closer so your lower belly is pressed to his taut stomach, the heat of his bulging front brushing against your core. A quiet sigh passes your lips at the thought of that heat all over your body. 

“I’ve waited all week to hear that little sigh of yours, princess.” His breath ghosts over your skin as he whispers against you, just below your breasts. Strands of his fiery hair brush against your taut nipples.

Eris’ hands glide smoothly from your hips to cradle your plump bottom. “Maybe we should warm you up a little first,” his mouth still pressed to your middle.

One large hand smacks loudly against your skin. The sting is instant and you let out a small cry of surprise.

Bringing his gaze to yours, his eyes narrow with a seductive grin. “Oh, now, we can do better than that, can't we little blaze?” 

“Yes, my Lord.” As you answer he grabs your wrists and brings your palms up to his shoulders.

“Let’s see how many you can take before you are begging to finish on my lap.”  The muscles in your core ripple at the thought as you feel your arousal slick through your folds and you stifle a moan in your throat.

His hand strikes your bottom again, on the opposite side this time. The sound that leaves you is no longer one of surprise but a plea.

Eris’ mouth now hovers over your breast, lips teasing but not touching, his heated breath causing your nipple to tighten further. His thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. No thoughts, just desire. 

“That’s it, there’s my needy girl. Count for me, princess.”

“One.” Your voice comes out as a rasping whisper.

Eris chuckles softly against your ear as he reaches for the paddle now. “I believe that was two, sweetheart.” 

Before you can correct yourself, the paddle meets your skin with a raging sting.

“Three” you pant out.

Another strike quickly follows.  The intensity of the pain and the delicious burn of the hit has you leaning harder into his shoulders. Chills race down your spine, adding to that tightening sensation, your core clenching around nothing drives you mad.

“Four” you cry out, a tear escaping your eye. 

Hits five and six have you moaning sinfully and gasping for air. You feel Eris’ warm palm, heated with his fire magic, drag across what you are sure is your very red bottom. The added heat to the already sensitive skin has your nails digging into his shoulders with a groan.

His fingers stray from your hip to your core, dampness coating his fingers before he could even part your folds. He groans, sliding his fingers through your folds gathering more of your arousal. his hips pushing up against your thighs, the seam of his pants threatening to bust open.

“So wet for me princess.” His mouth now trailing whisper soft kisses along your shoulder. 

He continues to slide his fingers along the length of you, the anticipation of them entering you nearly driving you wild. You wiggle your hips a little and his hand freezes. You immediately know what you’ve done.

“Uh-uh. You know the rules sweetheart. Use your words,” he commands.

“Please Eris. My Lord. I need it.”

“Need what princess? My hand? Do you want to come all over my fingers?”

“Yes, please,” you whine.

“Tell me, little blaze. Let me hear you say it.”

“I need your fingers in my cunt. I want to come all over them.” Your voice shudders in quick pants. 

The groan Eris’ releases creates a wave of chills that leave your legs trembling. “I love hearing you ask to come. It sounds so sweet coming from that filthy mouth.” 

His praise has your core clenching on nothing, his fingertips resting right there at your entrance he could feel you fluttering in anticipation.

He hums as two fingers enter you. The stretch of your walls has you gasping as he strokes inside you. Your thighs start shaking even harder as that familiar tightness pulls at your belly. You arch your back as you push down against his hand, trying desperately to seat his fingers deeper. 

Before he can chastise you for moving again, you plead in a shuddering moan. “More. Please, my Lord. I need more.”

“That’s it princess. What a good girl.” The lust has his voice deepening sensually.

You feel a third finger at your entrance, Eris eases it in slowly as your walls accommodate it, then he pushes all three as far as they will go. His other hand finds your breast, pinching and pulling at your nipple. The noises you make are constant as his fingers are pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace. Bringing his lips to your shoulder again, he gently scrapes his teeth along your collarbone. His other hand drifts to your lower belly, applying gentle pressure against your womb.

“Let go for me sweetheart. Let me feel you come all over me.”

It only takes two more pounding strokes for you to burst. Pleasure radiates through your core as you squeeze a punishing grip to his shoulders, leaning your forehead against his. Your thighs are shaking so hard as you scream his name, that one knee slips off the cushion. The hand Eris had pressing your middle snaps out and grips you around your waist to keep you from sliding to the floor. His fingers keep pumping, not as hard but just as fast, as you come down from your climax. 

Eris removes his fingers from you as you slump against his shoulder, arms twining around his neck. Grabbing your thighs he pulls you further into his lap and settles you more comfortably. 

“You did so good, princess,” he says as he nuzzles against your neck, his hands sliding up your back in a gentle caress. 

“Mmm.” It’s the only sound you are capable of making. Every muscle in your body feels heavy and satiated. All you can focus on is the heat of Eris’s body pressed tightly against yours.

“You alright?” He whispers against the shell of your ear before placing a tenderly soft kiss at your temple. One hand slides up under your hair to the nape of your neck, fingers massaging at your scalp.

“Perfect,” you answer, gaining back use of your voice. You lift your head to peer into his clear amber eyes. Gone is the seductive smirk of being in control of your pleasure. In its place is the soft look of adoration. “And you?”

“Perfect,” he whispers as he cradles your face and rubs his nose against yours. The insistent mound of his desire is still pressing against you and you roll your hips against him.

A flash pulses through his eyes in question and you answer him with a kiss. Brushing your lips against his once, twice. Then opening up to flick your tongue against his before deepening into it. Your hands slide down his chest, barely grazing against his belt buckle before he swiftly adjusts his hold on you and hauls you towards the bed. 

“Not tonight,” he growls as he lowers you to the mattress. “I need to be inside you.”

You gasp as a bright flash of flame quickly dissipates and he stands before you completely bare, the heavy length of him hanging between his legs. Pushing yourself back towards the pillows, Eris climbs toward you, sliding one hand up your calf and over your thigh. 

“I’ve needed you all week,” he says, leaning down to kiss one hip. “Every waking thought.” He kisses the other hip. “Was of you.”

He plants the last kiss on your sternum between your breasts, one hand weighing your breast in his palm with a swipe of his thumb over your nipple. A lazy smile graces his face as he watches it pucker.

“That sounds very distracting,” you giggle as you slip both hands into his hair.

He places a soft kiss against your lips as he settles himself over top of you. His cock like a rod of molten metal pressed against your folds. 

He huffs out a little laugh at your breathy inhale. “You have no idea. I need you desperately.”

You shift slightly, allowing the hold your legs have on his hips to loosen and letting your thighs fall open beneath him. 

“I’m right here,” you whisper, caressing his cheek. “So take me.”

With a sinful groan, his mouth is at your ear nibbling your earlobe. He thrusts against you, his cock parting your folds and sliding through your arousal. With a shift of his hips and the help of his hand, he angles at your entrance. 

“Look at me, little blaze. I want to see your face as I fill you with my cock.”

Through heavy lidded eyes you meet his gaze. The wildfire burning within them sets your body alight and you sigh a heavy sigh as he pushes in just a fraction of himself.

“Careful princess, those noises you make do dangerous things to me.”

You smile as he continues to slowly push into you, making sure your next moan is directly next to his ear. Snapping his head back with a gleam in his eye, he watches your face intently as he seats himself fully in one single thrust. 

“Eris!” The cry leaves you unexpectedly as he rocks his hips against yours.

The sound of his restrained breathing against your neck is making your heart skip beats. The stinging stretch of your core begins to settle into pleasure and you swear you can feel every single inch of his heat radiating inside you.

“I’m trying to take it easy on you little blaze,” he pants out.

“Don’t.” Straining your hips, you push against him urging him to move. “Take what you need, Eris. Please.” 

The moaning want of your plea does him in. Rocking his hips once more against you, he pulls back fully. The loss of his heat and the emptiness has you digging your nails into the back of his arms. Before you can take another breath he slams into you and begins a steady pace. 

“You like when I take you, sweetheart?” With a swift movement, his arm dives under one of your thighs and brings it up pressing your knee toward your chest. His thrusting doesn’t skip a beat. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

You cry out a moan at the change of angle and the friction against your still sensitive bud. His cock drives deeper into you, hitting that perfect spot inside that causes your vision to dim around the edges. 

“Are you going to come again for me princess? Give me one more. I know you can.”

The tightening in your belly feels like a band stretched to its max and yet it keeps pulling and pulling and pulling. Your breathing is nothing but short pants now and the blackness in your vision begins to close in.

Sensing your overworked breathing, Eris slows his pace slightly, turning his forceful thrusts into a sliding drag. 

“Stay with me, little blaze. Keep breathing.” 

Your breaths slow enough to force the air into your lungs and the blackness recedes, but the band in your belly remains taut threatening to snap at any moment. 

“That’s it. Just like that.”

With your sense fully intact again, you grip his arms harder, nearly drawing blood on his biceps.

“Eris, I – I’m going —” 

“Come with me,” he commands. His own breathing skips into an erratic rhythm. “Come on my cock as I fill you up.”

You feel the fluttering pulse of your orgasm beginning and Eris groans your name against your temple. That’s all it takes to send you over the precipice. Your legs swing over his hips and your ankles lock over him as the crest of your pleasure crashes over you. Just a few thrusts more and Eris is following you over the edge. You swear you can feel every hot pulse of his release as he empties himself inside you, roaring your name like a chant. 

His languid body remains on top of you as your legs fall from his back, both of you relishing in the aftermath of your pleasure. Slowly, you bring a hand to his head, scrubbing your nails at his scalp.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“Perfect,” he mumbles into the side of your neck.

With a smile you think to yourself that maybe this day wasn’t so terrible after all.

[i-cant-sing]

Hmmm I could get tired over any fandom but.... batfam???? Yall would never see me tired of talking about them.

Like think just how absolutely batshit crazy they'd go if reader fractures her limb or something. Maybe reader like slips off the stairs or falls from a swing or something, and the batfam- they have to watch it all happen in slow motion, and nothing- there's absolutely nothing they can do to help you. It's scarring for Dick to watch the color drain from your face as you drip to the ground. It's scarring for Jason to hear the nasty crack as your bone bends in an ugly handle. It's scarring for Tim to hear you scream in pain. It's scarring for Damian to see the blood pour out of your body. And it's oh so heart wrenching for Bruce to hear you cry into his chest as he carries you to Alfred to get your cast done.... how hopeless he felt, unable to soothe your pain.

But things only seem to go even more downhill from there. As you recover, the family has silently decided to double down on their paranoia and be even more coddling and protective of you. You wanna walk down the stairs? Nope, here comes big bro Jason to hold your hand- or better yet, carry you around in his arms. Why risk you even tripping over air?

Wanna get something from the top shelf? Stand back, dont need the shelf or something heavy falling over your head and cracking your skull open. Let Dick pull the cookie jar down for you- but why are you even eating cookies this late???? You need to get some healthy nutrients in you, lest you should have weak frail bones. Heres your broccoli.

Wanna play video games or go on socials? Well, no more! Dont need you getting influenced by the violent storylines and bad news from around the world- Tim wouldnt your mental health to be affected. If you really want, you can use his laptop... under his supervision.

What the fuck do you think youre doing staying up past your bedtime? What do you mean youre too old to have a bedtime???? Get your ass back in bed before Damian drags you back like a gremlin and REMINDS you of the bedtime he has set for YOU, because he doesnt need you becoming an insomniac and turning insane. He will not be the one to bust you out of Arkham asylum (he absolutely would, but hed be complaining all the way) just because you decided you didnt need your 10 hours of sleep!

Wanna go to your therapist? Well, you cant cause he suddenly moved far away and every other therapist in gotham is a maniac in disguise. Bruce doesnt get why you cant just talk to him about your feelings??? Dont you trust him? Your dear father, the very man whod hold you in his arms and shield you from the scary lightening when you were young? The very man who you would ramble on to about everything and anything, including tattling on Damian locking you in his room and throwing a tantrum when Jason took you away when you were all kids? You can tell him anything sweetie, even if you wanna bitch about the batfam... it'll hurt a bit, but hed be okay (absolutely has big sad eyes when you tell him how everyones just too suffocating for you and you wanna leave them)

[colourstreakgryffin]

muzan trying to find their toddler child (reader) and hears giggling in a room he hasn't checked before. turns out reader is sleeping in one of the upper moon's lap.(be it kokushibo, akaza or even Nakime) it would be adorable!

Oooh! Papa Muzan! Awww, that sounds so cute! I’m definitely doing this, thank you!

Kibutsuji Muzan- Hide and Seek

Muzan grumbled a bit annoyed, his blood red eyes trailing around every mere corner of the room he stood within, this applying to every room he has checked over and over again. His fatherly anxiety grew with each second of no child as he begun tossing items out of his way in a fury, trying his best to find his beloved baby so he could quell the rising imagines that you’re sitting outside alone, unprotected and vulnerable

His newborn, his toddler just disappeared out of the blue, once he left them in their cot for only a few minutes to begin the Upper Moon Meeting. He was immensely confused and worried about your condition, as his sharp claws tear at each artefact in his way to see if you’re hiding behind or under it. Muzan’s ears perked up at the sound of soft giggling

He immediately followed it into the one room he avoided, since he knew his Upper Moon replacement, Nakime. He didn’t want to see her unless under business scenarios but then again, he could hear that familiar giggling of your cute little voice from behind the door and Muzan knew he had to enter to find his beloved toddler. Sighing under his breath to ease his aggression and already irritated nerves, he gently pushed the door open

Suspecting you could be behind it’s, he has learnt fast that he needs to be careful with every door he opens. After he accidentally hit your back when entering your bedroom and made you cry for twenty minutes straight. Muzan still regrets that day to this very day as he looks around the curve of the door to try locate you. Sadly, no luck but a relief that he can open his entrance wider

Muzan’s eyes widened at the sight before him when they finally met the centre of the bland, semi-dark room lit by a single candle. Nakime’s quiet frame sat down on her knees as you were cuddled up into her lap, your little head laid down and matching red eyes staring ahead at the wall, as Nakime seemingly found a nearby sheet of fabric and laid it over you as a makeshift blanket. She lifted her Biwa higher up so not a single inch of the wood would touch your sensitive noggin’

For the first time, Muzan felt appreciation for his worthless demon fodders but he didn’t express it as he approaches the eyeless demon woman. Nakime was willingly to take care of his offspring for him, despite the fact he didn’t demand her to at all. What was her motivation? He wondered but he didn’t say a word as he sits down onto his knees and gestures at his own child. Nakime nodded back and placed her Biwa down at her side to pick you up manually

You giggled excitedly the moment her hands scooped you up and sit you up so you could meet her face-to-face. Your cute chubby fingers reached for her long raven black hair whilst Nakime attempted to hand you to your father, your blood reds sparkled when they met the powerful veiny-like slits of your father Muzan. Clapping your hands together at the sweet smile Muzan emitted at you, you were always happy to see your father

Muzan considered if he should leave Nakime to her own business, and take you away to be brought back to your cot but with the way you turned around to see her and whined out for her attention. He decided, last second, to let Nakime spend time with you and supervise from the side, he is a very overprotective father who is ready to drop any human and demon that dare touch you but if you like something or someone, he will tolerate it for you and your happiness

Muzan held you close to his built chest and felt you pull at his neatly done tie as your attention averted from Nakime to your father’s black tie in mere seconds. He shuffled closer and offered you, without pulling you off his chest to Nakime, her cheeks flamed in flattery as her hands abanonded trying to pick up Biwa laid limply besides her and stretched out. It is truly a honour to be given the Master’s child to care for with the Master’s blessing, she felt so unbelievably lucky

“Do you want to play with Dokusha?”

[starsainzjr]

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Lando Norris x director!reader Faceclaim: Gemma Chan

✷✷✷✷✷

yourusername posted a story

f1wags

Liked by 419,303 others

f1wags Meet YN YLN! YN is a successful Hollywood director and producer with movies like Barbie (producer), Boston Strangler (director), and Little Women (director) under her belt. Earlier this afternoon in a Tweet, a fan working as a makeup artist on an undisclosed movie set claimed to see McLaren driver Lando Norris on set with a bouquet of sunflowers.

An hour later YN posted a a picture of a bouquet of sunflowers to her Instagram story with the caption "Pleasant surprise at lunch 🥰" (pictured above). Could it just be a coincidence? Sure. But we may soon have a new WAG in the paddock!

View all 20,389 comments

marissa.lancaster4 Hi! I'm the fan that posted that Tweet. Because of the NDAs that I have signed as a part of my employment I cannot say what movie I am working on nor who the director is. But I can confirm after speaking with several of my coworkers that it was Lando I saw on set earlier today.

f1wags Please DM me if you have any more information that you can share!

mickieslaren Am I the only one that gets a bit weirded out by how we treat celebrities' love lives like this? Maybe Lando was visiting a friend or something. Either way it's none of our business what he was doing on set

landoslove It is a bit odd but, then again, both Lando and YN live in the public eye. There are always going to be little things like this that get scrutinized mickieslaren I just wish they could have a bit of privacy is all landoslove That makes sense. But this is out of our control

nowinsnorris YN is literally so stunning. Lando has some serious game if this is true

landoslove He's trying so hard to beat the norizz allegations

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by florencepugh, americaferrara, simuliu and 509,201 others

yourusername Halfway through filming! I have a never ending supply of sunsets and sunflowers 🌅🌻

View all 99,394 comments

florencepugh Come to my hotel room I have a mini champagne bottle I can't get rid of by myself

yourusername I'm omw simuliu Am I invited? florencepugh Sure we need someone to supervise I suppose

americaferrara Go do incredible things! Cannot wait to get my eyes on this once its done

yourusername There's a bucket of popcorn with your name on it!

landoslove Sunflowers she says? 👀

nowinsnorris She's not as slick as she thinks she is

haveyougotpubesyet No bc I'm confident Lando would follow YN around like a lost puppy in the paddock

landoslove I cannot wait for this to get proven real mickieslaren Or we could just leave them alone and let them live their lives haveyougotpubesyet We're not harming them, just having meaningless fun trying to connect invisible dots landoslove Yeah. We're not, like, cyber bullying them or anything mickieslaren I'm just saying it probably can't feel great to have random people poking around in your love life

landonorris Santa Monica, California

Liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 782,293 others

landonorris Ready to rock 🤘🏎

View all 102,394 comments

oscarpiastri We really need a McLaren emoji

landonorris 🍑? oscarpiastri I'm taking your phone away landonorris 😨

carlossainz55 Welcome back to the real world

landonorris I don't like it I wanna go back charles_leclerc We have the easiest lives ever get it together. Both of you landonorris Yes, father. Carlos come get your teammate carlossainz55 Nah, this could get fun

landoslove SANTA MONICA

landoslove YN just posted from Santa Monica

nowinsnorris This is me not getting my hopes up buuuuut YN is a director and she lives in California... landoslove Lalalalala I can't hear anything lalalalala

yourusername The Outback

Liked by simuliu, florencepugh, americaferrara and 600,338 others

yourusername Out of the studio for the back half! So unbelievably happy to be back in Australia 🦘🌏

View all 102,383 comments

simuliu Yeah yeah pretty pictures can you come kill the spider in my room now please?

simuliu YN I'm serious, I've been texting you for 30 minutes I know you're seeing these simuliu YN IM NO LONGER ASKING yourusername @/florencepugh do you hear anything? florencepugh Nope. All quiet. Not a peep simuliu Very funny. When I die who are you going to get to finish your movie? yourusername I am on my way to humanely get the scary spider out of your room and put it outside simuliu Hurry up it's staring at me florencepugh With how many eyes?

nowinsnorris I'm already in love with her. I might love her more than I love Lando

landoslove YN YLN - Daniel Ricciardo team up 👀

ynsaction I've never been one to gatekeep but if these F1 delulus keep coming near my wife I will actually lose my mind

yn.florence No literally! She is a feminist icon who has said multiple times in interviews that she's not looking for a partner and focusing on directing and producing. Pls stop shoving her into a WAG box ynsaction I'll always welcome more YN fans but every other word in these comments is about Lando Norris. I'm about to scream landoslove Hi, sorry isn't feminism about women being able to do whatever they want? YN is allowed to change her mind if she met the right person yn.florence If you'd been paying attention you'd know the last interview she made her wishes clear in was a week ago which, according to the calendar, is after people started trying to tie her to Nowins or whatever his name is

landonorris Australia

Liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 799,397 others

landonorris Good to be back! We'll continue to work and push and get stronger as the season goes on. Thanks for having me, Australia! 🦘

View all 298,300 comments

oscarpiastri The garage used to be so quiet

landonorris You missed me, admit it

carlossainz55 Bit rusty there, mate

landonorris Says the man who got his third consecutive P4 finish. You ever gonna bump up to the podium? carlossainz55 At least I finished in the points charles_leclerc Guys I cannot keep doing this please

landoslove My boy is back and better than ever

haveyougotpubesyet He looked so happy to be back!

nowinsnorris I'm gonna have to change my username this year, aren't I?

landoslove YES YOU ARE norizz481 Here's hoping I get to change mine too landoslove YOU'RE BOTH GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE USERNAMES I'M SPEAKING IT INTO THE UNIVERSE

yourusername Perth, Australia

Liked by florencepugh, simuliu, americaferrara and 600,495 others

yourusername A week and a half left of filming and I cannot wait to celebrate all we've accomplished with these two! Behind the scenes dump coming soon 😉

View all 110,387 comments

americaferrara Congrats all of you! So so unbelievably proud

yourusername Wish you could've been along with us on this ride! See you soon my love

florencepugh My favorite project in a long time! Let's finish this out strong!

simuliu No not that picture 😭

yourusername Listen, it's too good not to share with the world simuliu I'm a superhero, I don't need this kind of harassment yourusername Cope

ynsaction This one is going to be so so good I'm physically vibrating I need it

yn.florence Mother! She's going to win yet another Oscar for this one, I can feel it

ynsaction Our girl don't need no child race car driver

nowinsnorris I'm becoming such a huge fan of YN. She and Lando would be perfect for each other

landoslove Shhhhh you'll scare the fragile film girlies ynsaction God, the f1 delulus are back. I was hoping we got rid of them yn.florence I don't think we're that lucky

f1wags Perth, Australia

Liked by 421,871 others

f1wags Picture taken of Lando this morning in Perth, Australia coming out of a florist shop. Not pictured is a bouquet of sunflowers. This is the second time this month that Lando has been spotted with a bouquet of sunflowers.

Lando has been linked to director YN YLN who is wrapping up her new film in Perth. Only time will tell if YN posts some sunflowers in the coming days 👀

View all 19,878 comments

haveyougotpubesyet He is the definition of boyfriend material I swear to god

landoslove Getting closer and closer to beating the norizz allegations

landoslove IS HE BRINGING HER SWEETS TOO??? This boy is going to be the death of me

nowinsnorris What do I need to do to get myself a Lando

mickieslaren Just reminding everyone that Lando does in fact have sisters who were in attendance at the race this weekend and may also enjoy getting sunflowers from their brother

landoslove Jesus, take your negativity away from us who are trying to have fun mickieslaren Yeah it's fun for you now but what about Lando who is trying to go about his day without having some delusional fangirl losing their mind over him buying sunflowers? If you were really a fan of his you would let him live his life landoslove He's a celebrity! His fans are just trying to connect to him mickieslaren When I hear that Lando has gotten a restraining order against a fan I will not be surprised when you suddenly get very quiet

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Hollywood

Liked by americaferrara, florencepugh, landonorris and 671,209 others

yourusername This is where the fun begins 🎞 Three months of editing coming up

View all 105,448 comments

florencepugh Im omw with more coffee

yourusername I love you

americaferrara Ahh keep the Excedrin close by

yourusername There's a whole bottle in the corner

simuliu I hope you're making me look good

yourusername Yes, I'm including the scene where the spider crawled up your arm and you screamed like a baby simuliu You're definitely my favorite director, I love working with you yourusername You are also definitely the star of this movie and have more screen time than Flo simuliu Hey, I will always be willing to have less screen time than Flo

ynsaction YES I have been missing YN editing content so bad recently

ynsaction She is such a mood when she's editing she gets so unhinged

landoslove Unhinged YN editing plus Lando being generally unhinged 👀 ynsaction Jesus give it a rest already

yn.florence I, for one, am chasing to focus on incoming unhinged YN posts

nowinsnorris LANDO'S IN THE LIKES EVERYONE

landonorris China

Liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 801,387 others

landonorris So close to a podium finish! We'll make adjustments as needed and push on. See you in Miami!

View all 208,218 comments

oscarpiastri So my days of quiet garage are definitely over?

landonorris You're stuck with me forever, mate carlossainz55 Good luck, Oscar landonorris WOW

landonorris @/charles_leclerc your teammate is being mean to me

charles_leclerc You think I have control over him?

ynsaction Not YN in the likes I had such high hopes

landoslove Genuine question; why are you against her finding someone she likes to be with? ynsaction I'm not against her finding someone she likes to be with, I'm against all Lando's fans trying to shove her into a WAG box when she's spoken so much about not wanting a partner at the moment. Especially when it was as soon as a month ago landoslove Okay, that's valid. But we're not trying to shove her into a box. This is just harmless shipping. I'm sure you do it with fictional characters you like ynsaction YN is an idol to me. I'm protective over her, I'm sorry if I've been bitchy landoslove I've been bitchy too, I apologize as well

mickieslaren I still don't like pushing into celebrity love lives

yourusername Miami, Florida

Liked by florencepugh, simuliu, landonorris and 622,118 others

yourusername First time out of the studio since editing started. Thank you @/f1 for hosting me!

View all 200,377 comments

f1 Anything for our favorite director!

florencepugh Did you see The Guy???? 👀

yourusername It's not too late to make the movie about Simu simuliu YES... I mean, yeah did you see The Guy???? 👀 yourusername You're both blacklisted from my film sets

mclaren Give us a heads up next time you come! We'll set you up in the garage!

yourusername Oh that would be incredible! Thank you so so much!

ynsaction She always looks so adorable I am in love with her

yn.florence Mother is Mothering

ynsaction all hail

haveyougotpubesyet McLaren sipping after her too now

ynsaction Who wouldn't simp after her tbh

landoslove Just soft launch already

landoslove Florence and Simu chirping her about seeing The Guy I'm DYING

nowinsnorris The Guy is 100% Lando. It has to be at this point

lando.jpg

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourusername and 379,177 others

lando.jpg Hangin'

Comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc You caught me so off guard

carlossainz55 Best picture in the middle tbh

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Monaco

Liked by landonorris, florencepugh, simuliu, and 801,836 others

yourusername Beautiful day in Monaco made even more beautiful by this wonderful boy! Congratulations, @/landonorris I'm so proud of you!

Comments on this post have been limited

florencepugh THE GUY. SHE PULLED THE GUY.

simuliu YESSSS NO MORE LATE NIGHTS DRUNK TALKING ABOUT HIM

yourusername Way to call me out, guys, thanks for that. You do remember I'm technically your boss right? florencepugh Movie wrapped, love. You can't tell us what to do anymore simuliu At least until we sign on for another one of your projects

landonorris Awww you drunk talked about me 🥰

yourusername I'll chase you

landonorris Monaco

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 781,003 others

landonorris I have the best date for the party @/yourusername

Comments on this post have been limited

yourusername Best weekend ever

landonorris Only because you were here

oscarpiastri Here's hoping the garage will be quiet again

landonorris No shot but nice try yourusername I'll do my best to keep him quiet for you oscarpiastri YN is my new favorite

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 241,966 others

lando.jpg You have a movie coming out tomorrow. I am so incredibly proud of you @/yourusername. Everything we've been through together, I cannot believe what a kind, strong, beautiful woman you are. I love you, I can't wait to see what you're going to do next

Comments on this post have been limited

yourusername I love you so so much, darling. Thank you for being there through everything

lando.jpg My dream woman

florencepugh Yes!!!! Drinks on Simu at the afterparty!

simuliu Drinks on me!!!

✷✷✷✷✷

All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images

[ohbabydollie]

Mmmm, perverted unpaid intern!schlatt..... yummy plz....

pls he was so yummy in unpaid intern, im going feral

let’s say you were ludwig’s assistant, dressed in a little pencil skirt and tight button up.

schlatt watched when you would walk over with a slight bounce in your step, little notebook in hand and smiling softly. when you look over to schlatt and offer him a shy wave and smile. he can’t help but start imagining you in different ways.

he starts wondering if you’ll offer him the same cute smile if he asks you to go through his desk drawers for that damn flashlight he has.

if your tits always jiggle like that when you happily get ludwig his redbull and let him know the meetings he has to attend.

these thoughts go through his head all day and everytime he sees you. they go on until the end of the day, that’s when he realizes he has you alone, all to himself with no supervision or anyone to interfere.

the thought alone has him starting to feel dazed as he calls you over and you come bouncing innocently over, tits and ass jiggling with the same smile you had before.

“yes Mr. Schlatt?” you ask politely

“no, no, Mr. Schlatt is my father, please call me Jay” he says with a charming smile “Speakin’ of my father, y’know he owns part of the company?” schlatt asks you

“oh really? that’s very nice, um, Jay” you say softly

“yeah, it is isn’t it?” he says almost innocently “it’s real nice, especially when i feel like an employee isn’t doing their job just right, i can get them fired” he chuckles making you laugh nervously in return

“so, i’ve noticed that you work really well, really really well” Schlatt’s right hand goes up to the top of your head and runs, stopping at the bottom of your head “you take orders, do your job, make sure Ludwig is doing his job, you’re great..”

“t-thank y-” “i wasn’t finished” he states twirling the ends of your hair between his middle and forefinger

“you’re so pretty..It would be a shame if someone told my father you weren’t doing your job adequately. If someone believed for a minute that you do good, but were wasting company resources on something a computer could do”

“w-what?” you ask almost stumbling back in shock “you wouldn’t!”

“oh but i could” his eyes linger on the end of your skirt before returning to your eyes “it wouldn’t be hard, a little text can have your career over by” he looks at his watch “4:15…unless..”

“unless what?” you ask worriedly, not wanting to lose your job

“unless you can prove yourself useful to me” he advised with a grin “it’s 3:45 right now, i suggest you bend over right now if you wanna continue being employed that badly”

That’s how you find yourself in this position, bent over his desk, a few buttons ripped off your shirt causing your tits to spill out and rub against his desk. Most of the items that would be on top of his desk are all over the ground in front of you and your brand new tights are now no longer wearable. Your skirt too, it’s being ruined by your wetness running down your thighs as Schlatt sets a brutal pace making you come undone.

his hands are digging into your hips, you try to bite into the arm of your shirt to hold back moans but schlatt removes one hand off your hip and pulls your head back by the hair.

“don’t try to hide those precious sounds from me princess” he growls as you let out a moan

“yessir!” you moan out while schlatt tugs in your hair, pulling you closer and causing you to arch your back against him “f-fuck!”

“shit princess, you’re squeezin’ me like crazy” he says going harder causing you to get louder

“gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum!!” you cry as he purposely goes deeper with a grin.

“yeah? you’re gonna cum all ‘round my cock like the slut ya are? yeah?” he groans into your ear while hitting your g-spot causing you to see stars.

“yes! yes! gonna cum all around your cock! fuck! please” you beg “make me cum please, please!”

Schlatt smiles bringing a hand up to your neck, squeezing softly as your mind goes blank with pure pleasure. Schlatt releases his load inside you with a soft groan and pulls out softy, sitting down and letting you sit on his leg until you’re able to collect yourself.

He pressed a kiss to your temple “did, so good for me” he says softly, letting out a soft yawn “now go get me some coffee” he says as you nod, getting up with wobbly legs and walking to the break room as cum starts to drip down your thighs.

maybe you do get to keep your job, at least for now.

hope i did good nonnie >_<

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.3]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(how would some of our NRC students react to this?...)

(includes each house leader +ace and deuce! as requested!<3)

(also includes lots of angst!/mention of blood but not a lot/ angst angst angst angst angst--/not proofread/may be ooc and inconsistent in some places(in both the second part and this part) my apologies!! T-T/mention of book7 overblot/did I mention angst?)

it's been over two weeks now, two weeks in RSA.

so far you've met the headmaster of the school, Ambrose LXIII, with the guidance of Rielle. the headmaster understood your circumstances and talked to you about how he'll try his best to find a way back home for you, and to ease up any of your doubts and concerns he even said he'll promptly ask a student to hand you a report from him of any progress he's made to ensure a safe passage back home for you!

even without having to be an official student or enroll they let you stay in the same dorm as Rielle with your own dorm room as a temporary stay here... and your dorm room was actually nice and well set up! like a hotel room... you were relieved you didn't have to worry about the ceiling cracking and falling on your face for the rest of your nights here.

and to your amazement the headmaster kept his word, unlike Crowley. any report of progress was mostly driven by research but he did mention a lot of Twisted Wonderland's history to connect to any potential gateways back to your world... and this felt way better than whatever Crowley was doing so it was like a breath of fresh air.

finally for the first time ever you've been able to feel like you’re several steps closer to seeing your friends and family back home!... every time you'd think about it you'd get goosebumps of excitement.

during these past few days you've met an enormous amount of friends! most of them being Rielle's while others were outside of the inner social circle but still all of them were friendly or just got along in some way or form, it seemed almost magical. aside from Rielle one of your other closest friends was this boy of green eyes and long, and I mean long blonde hair that usually either dragged behind him or was in a huge braid, he was actually the one who healed your broken arm and wounds with his magical healing powers from his hair! and now you're able to be more active again!

Raps is his name, and he was usually always called upon and under strict supervision by his father whom was a professor there... but you weren't sure if they are related by blood or not since the professor had dark black curls and grey eyes rather than the yellow haired boy's more bright features, but you never really bothered to ask or wonder much. in the end you two got along well and actually had a bit in common! mostly due to the fact that you both can relate to the feeling of being trapped, restrained.

in the end you absolutely loved your temporary stay here so far, you hoped no overblots would ruin your experience... so you never really let your guard down but nonetheless it was relaxing.

we wouldn't be able to say the same for Night Raven College and everyone you left behind though!

Meanwhile in Night Raven College....

it was after classes ended on this cold and grey day when five particular freshmen and a student robot of NRC have been grouping up after school for the past week for one particular reason only...

"where could they be?? we've searched everywhere! the halls, the classrooms, the garden, forest, the shore... it's like they disappeared from thin air!" exclaimed the ace, Ace Trappola to be exact.

"we've looked everywhere Ace, what also irks me is that even Vil has been harsher on the entire dorm since they disappeared." the apple of the group, Epel Felmier, sighed in frustration on the brink of snapping.

"...but could they have been taken, kidnapped?... I'm sure Grim would've heard of any struggle but we haven't even heard from the cat." spoke the wolf of the group, Jack Howl.

"no.. Grim has been avoiding us like the plague and even managed to sneak away from us several times. not sure where he could be hiding now aside from the old ramshackle dorm but-- even yet he always manages to slip through our hands!..." the spade spoke worryingly, Deuce Spade was deeply concerned for your safety and confused over Grim's actions.

"that human!! they've been driving the young master mad! all he's been talking about is where they could be and if they are alright!!... and every time I come back to him it's like the sky and his excellence himself just keeps getting worse and worse!.." the loudest knight of Malleus Draconia, Sebek Zigvolt, exclaimed loudly with worry for both the prefect and his young master... but more worried about the young master's train of thought with how worse the clouds have been getting with the most terrible rain and thunder when each day goes by.

"my big brother hasn't been sleeping at all.. way worse than when he has his game marathons. he's constantly looking for any digital footprint they could've left or even trying to hack into their location but it always overrides somehow... it always says that the device is dead or nonexistent." the younger of the shroud brothers, Ortho Shroud, is seen stressing over you and his big brother, Idia Shroud. "with the amount of information my big brother has been trying to look through it could possibly even make me short circuit."

the entire group was at a frustrating dead end for any clue of your disappearance aside from all your everyday items being left behind and your last known scent to be in the ramshackle dorm and at the very edge of the sea. other than that no one has much of a clue.

well they have been hearing from students that a ship appeared as quickly as it disappeared in the night/very early morning before anyone was up, and that one rumor caused other different kinds of rumors to spread like wildfire. some say you were abducted by pirates, stolen by mischievous pixies, suddenly teleported back into your world without warning, or even... that you have finally left on your own. everyone acknowledged the rumors but they didn't want to think about the reality, the cold hard truth, that you really could've left.

if only they knew how terrible their house leaders took it too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(requested characters)

Ace: the ace, one of the first people you've met. he's always been a funny and childish friend, sometimes he made you laugh and cry of joy from his terrible yet funny jokes and antics while other times said antics would get you in trouble. he didn't want to accept that he could be part of the reason why you're gone, which is why he tried to convince himself and everyone else around that you were taken instead of leaving voluntarily... he wouldn't be able to handle the guilt and heartbreak to accept that you truly left. he loved you, he truly cared for you and your well-being-- he knew he had a hard time to express these feelings but you were his best friend! of course he cared for your health! but... he couldn't handle the fact that maybe just maybe... he wasn't there for you enough to stay with them a little longer.

he could still remember the first day that you were gone, you weren't in any of your classes-- the teachers didn't even call your name when taking attendance anymore. it was utterly bizarre. Grim was still in his classes yet he sat far away from any students that knew you and disappeared after every class ended.. it was as if he was hiding something. and he was, but Ace and Deuce had no idea what it could be aside that they knew it was about you.

in the end, Ace is left heartbroken knowing that he didn't make sure to do enough to help you even when you asked for it from them. he knew that all he and deuce gave you was pure and utter trouble.

and he couldn't accept the fact, so now here he is having his friends look for you when he knew that you were long gone without even saying goodbye.

Deuce: the spade, one of the first people you've met alongside the ace, a passionate yet slow boy with a heart of gold. as much as he cared for you too the way Ace did he knew that even he wasn't helping either. he knew they should've done more or at least what you asked of them. but now you're gone, and just like Ace it seems as if he too is in denial about their part in your disappearance. he truly wants to believe that you didn't leave on your own even if all evidence was starting to slowly point to that possibility.

unlike Ace though, he seemed to be accepting it faster than him. he still followed along with the story that you were taken but he knew that after all the trouble, all the overblots, all your injuries-- he knew you just couldn't handle it anymore. after all it was clearly written on your face the day when you awoke from losing consciousness in the last overblot that you were ready to move on and make proper progress to get home.

he just...truly wishes that at least wherever you are that you are at least taking care of yourself with more helpful and reliable friends by your side, something he knew that he and Ace weren't able to do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(your dorm leaders)

Riddle

inside of the dorm with pampered red roses adorning every corner was the queen of hearts of the Heartslabyul dorm completely and utterly tearing his dorm room into shreds in pure red rage. 

Riddle Rosehearts was fuming, heartbroken, and betrayed on so many levels that he hasn't felt in a good while. hearing from Cater and Trey about your disappearance and then hearing from other of his dorm students about the ship that sailed here as quickly as it left in the late hours of the night/very early hours of the morning.

he immediately assumed that you were kidnapped and in danger! he even marched to the headmaster's office to report your disappearance with other dorm leaders!... well actually-- surprisingly they all came at the same time without planning. but in the end when approaching Crowley with this question of 'where is the prefect?', the headmaster was calm, horrifyingly calm, and said a phrase that shook him on many levels with his fellow dorm leaders beside him.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home! they felt too bad to tell you all so they just left."

"but they will be coming back to say goodbye before they go back home-- if they find a way back home... right?" spoke the leader of Ignihyde, for the first time out of his room.

"unlikely!" exclaimed the headmaster with a smile.

that one first phrase that headmaster Crowley told them was all that he needed to hear, in the moment of processing what he's heard everything was basically fading away as he also slowly but quickly ran back to his dorm room, in tears.

he was so angry, so furious, so emotional, so... he felt as if his own heart had been grabbed and thrown out of his chest. 'why couldn't you at least say goodbye??' he'd think.

he has never thrown so many books, ripped up so many letters he's written for you from himself that he never dared to send or give, and cut up then stepped on so many bouquets of roses in his room with your name on the tags.

wait...

oh, those roses. 

he stopped dead in his tracks with tears streaming down his face as he pathetically dropped down to his knees at the sight of all the five sad 'bouquets' of fresh red roses he planned to give you, now all had their petals and stems broken, torn, shredded, and crushed.

he then realized he didn't have his gloves on anymore... his palms had small yet prominent holes that were dripping red, red as the roses he destroyed. seems like the roses had thorns. 

ahh..he remembers now... 

those roses were meant just for you. 

Leona:

"what do you mean you still haven't found the herbivore yet?..." spoke the ruthless Kingscholar lion of Savannaclaw in a low yet snarly tone "I doubt they could've swam themselves out of here with waters like the ones this place has anyway. you all are likely not even looking right." he huffed as he closed his eyes with his body on the ground of the botanical garden facing away from the hyena gasping for air due to all the running that he had to do to bring the news to Leona.

Ruggie took a few deep breathes and quick pants before speaking "...we've already got twelve other students including the Ignihyde dorm leader's younger brother and the vice-dorm leader of Pomefiore, a robot and a hunter, looking around and no one's found them! Howl already tried to sniff them out and all we came up with was nothing much but just a faint smell of them from the shore." he huffed and panted in exhaustion.

Leona just scoffed "as I mentioned before, you're all still probably not looking in the right places."

Ruggie tried to intercept but knew that even if he did it'd be fruitless and gain nothing from trying to correct Leona, yet he was frustrated too and wanted to know where you could be as well.

but unlike the freshmen at least Ruggie has been starting to accept the possibility that you really have left, forever. Ruggie was about to turn and leave to continue the search and try to sniff out any information from other students until---

"Bucchi." Leona broke the short silence with a throaty command for his attention which he certainly achieved with both of Ruggie's ears poking up to hear his next set of words.

"keep participating in the search for the prefect. If all continues to come up dry, then I'll just have to take this into my own hands."

and this time without trying to speak a single word back he nodded with a quick and stern 'mhm' before scurrying off to help the rest of the students. once the hyena was gone Leona then had his eyes look up through one of the many windows in the garden that are presenting the sky's ever growing storm. oh how much he was longing for you.

he could still remember as if it was yesterday, when Crowley told all of the house leaders the news after they all abruptly showed up at the same time.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home!"

that phrase.. he remembered how taken aback he was.

Leona slammed his fists on the headmaster's table "parted. ways?? as in they left NRC?!" a low growl came from inside his throat as Headmaster Crowley contained his eerily calm smile on his face.

"Sir Kingscholar I must insist you to control your temper." he spoke in his usual annoying and irritating voice "It's what they decided and were set on, end of story."

Leona couldn't remember much else after that blow out since all he did right after that was back away and stayed stuck in his thoughts until finally he just left the room suddenly. He didn't listen to any conversations that happened after that since all he could think was 'why not at least say goodbye?'

he finished recounting the moment before he mumbled to himself "I still have too much to say to you.",

but really he hoped that somehow somewhere you could still hear him. even if you probably left them for good.

Azul:

The sea witch of the Octavinelle dorm was pacing back and forth in every corner across his office in the Mostro Lounge. He's tried his best to squeeze out any information out of any of his dorm students or employees about the prefect with the help of his left and right hand eels ,Jade and Floyd Leech, with Floyd being the most productive yet not catching much information aside from the students he's squeezed the air out of exclaiming about some ship that has left in the midst of the night way pass midnight but too early to be morning. It intrigued all three yet it made our octopus pop a few nerves with how panicky he's been.

when he first heard this rumor it made him run to the headmaster's office with the immense fear that you could've been taken. he could remember his glasses slipping off at every bounce he made with each step of his run. he could remember the moment he opened the door to the headmaster's office along with the sudden appearance of all of his fellow house leaders in the same room..(excluding Malleus as usual) he could still feel the sweat dripping down his face, the crazy and misplaced strands of hair from his usual look, his glasses lopsided, and the scarf of his uniform threatening to fall off his shoulder-- of course he attempted to fix every one of these details on the spot to look somewhat presentable.

yet the answer he got from the headmaster was nothing short of soul-crushing for him. he asked a continuous amounts of questions as to why and how but all were dodged by the headmaster and answered with a short,

"it's just what they decided."

now he's just back into his office now diving head first into his work and school. much to his dismay it only kept him distracted for a temporary amount of time and in the dark of night under his covers all he could think about is you, just you.

he truly wished he could've been a part of your world.

Kalim:

the generous sultan of the Scarabia dorm was sulking in his room with his friend Jamil sitting by his side. Kalim was heartbroken over your disappearance and he remembers how worried sick he was at first. he like many assumed you were kidnapped and he was even waiting for some kind of ransom note to appear and he would've paid full price and more... but when he and other dorm leaders came to talk their concerns all they got was the news that you left voluntarily.

he was one of very few that felt that in their hearts you'd come back. one way or another Kalim felt in his broken heart that you'd appear as suddenly as you disappeared and unlike other dorm leaders he wouldn't put it against you to the slightest. he wouldn't hold grudges or be mad at you if you ever came back, in fact he understood why you'd leave and he was all up for making everything ten times better than before just so you'd never leave him again.

"you have to be realistic here, Kalim. for all we know maybe they found a way home faster than they did here, or they found a place where they don't have to worry about the next overblot or what their next meal will be." Jamil tried to be straightforward and blunt with Kalim, he didn't want him to have hope that you'd come back and then actually never coming back. "we don't know and may never know unless some kind of obvious sign shows that they will actually come back... but just don't keep your hopes up. for your sake." Jamil stood up from the edge of the bed to walk towards the exit of the room "I'll be back, I have to make dinner so you won't go to sleep starving."

With Jamil leaving Kalim then jumped out of his bed to open his window, the sky still not clear of the grey clouds and still not dark enough for the second star of the right to show up but still hoped that his message would still be received by the wishing star.

the platinum blonde boy held his hands together under his lips "please please please please.. please.." Kalim mumbled, wishing with all his heart.

"please, may _____ be safe, sound, and happy... wherever they are.."

Vil:

in the dorm of the fairest queen was the dorm leader watching from up above behind the tallest window of his room. clenching both of the red velvet curtains in his hands as he watched a group of freshman and a robot, including one of his own, group up and talk hectically and stressfully to each other. Vil Schoenheit knew very well why this particular group of students were talking in such an exaggerating manner, after all... with what Rook has told him and what he's heard from various students around the school it was most definitely about you.

as collected and uncaring as he tried to seem right now he could definitely feel worry and a kind of anger bubble up inside him. 

'could you really have left?' he thinks.

remembering what the headmaster said and all the bits of evidence he and Rook have picked up it seemed that it was certainly the case.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home! they felt too bad to tell you all so they just left." spoke the headmaster.

you really did leave without saying goodbye.

he couldn't completely blame you, as silent and busy as he was he obviously knew that his and the rest of the overblots and people that surrounded you were bringing you down. it's why he invited you at times for make-overs, spa days, and everything in between to at least brighten up your spirits whenever he could.

"I suppose all of that wasn't enough for you." Vil mumbled to himself as he aggressively thrashed both curtains he held in each hand inward to close off the view of the storm clouds from the sky, to stop those clouds from taunting him any longer.

that and because he couldn't let anyone from out his window see the mascara dripping down his face.

"Roi de Poison?..." his hunter spoke in a calm and hesitant voice, noting that this isn't exactly the time to try to make conversation.

and he was right "Rook!--" Vil seemed to have jumped, immediately yet carefully wiping his mascara-filled tears with a handkerchief on him. "what is so important that you had to come in without knocking??" he exclaimed as he has yet to face his hunter.

"Roi de Posion... there is something your eyes must see to believe." he seemed to take out his phone with an image on his screen.

"Well get on with it then!" Vil exclaimed before he finally turned to face Rook in dramatic motion, eyes still a bit bloodshot even from the few tears he had.

Rook carefully approached Vil, phone in hand, once he took one last look on the screen to make sure it showed what he wanted to show the hunter then finally faced the screen towards his dorm leader with hesitance.

it was a Magicam account, someone's most recent post...from yesterday..

it was Neige.

but.. wait... that person by his side.. it couldn't be--

why were you in Neige's Magicam post?

Idia:

dorm leader of the underworld Ignihyde, has not been sleeping as much as he should be. of course he's never slept well in the first place but it's just been getting worse since the ramshackle prefect has left.

currently Idia Shroud was looking for any digital footprints he could find, trying to track your location, trying to figure out where you could be. in the end it was all for naught since for the past week or two he's found nothing and basically has given up at this point.

he leaned back against his gaming chair and with a sigh of disappointment, he didn't want to accept what Crowley told all of the house leaders in his office. he knew that there's some kind of trace of you out there somewhere, he felt like it was up to him to find the person who bothered to give him the time of day and attention that he'd never thought he'd get.

the light from his screens were causing his eyes to become dry and almost bloodshot, each blink hurting his mind and his focus. that was until a notification came from his phone.

that's strange.. no one ever sends him messages unless it's in game.

he grabbed his phone beside his keyboard to read the message. how odd, it was from the noob Rook Hunt. what would the vice-dorm leader of Pomefiore want anything with him? nonetheless Idia was slightly intrigued yet annoyed, he pressed on the notification to lead him straight to the new chat with the hunter, it said:

"Roi de Ta Chambre, I do hope this finds you well. A little bird told me that you too have been wondering about the safety and whereabouts of our beloved missing prefect. I may have the answer to your worries here."

below the message was a link to a Magicam post under the name of Neige Leblanc. he's heard of the name but was never interested in the petty and do-gooder lives of any of the RSA students. he cautiously pressed on the link to show a photo, a photo of said Neige Leblanc posing with a familiar face... a familiar face that he now wished he didn't see.

it was you, you were with an RSA student...

"tch..." Idia grumbled as he threw his phone back on his desk before he stepped back out of his chair and walked over to his bed "why did i even bother."

he fell face first into his bed and hugged one of his long yet soft pillows tightly, tears quietly falling down on their own slowly, he didn't dare make a sound in case Ortho would come barging in. he continued to cry quietly now acknowleging that you truly did leave without a goodbye, and left with RSA students no less, and with how you treated him before you left-- he dreamed that he might've had a chance with you.

but he should've known, dreams are for rookies.

Malleus:

the dragon prince of Diasomnia was a strange case, unlike every one of his fellow dorm leaders he actually knew that you left by ship. where to though he had no clue.

he remembers that he came to visit you at late hours of the night at the ramshackle dorm like he usually does except he saw you sneak out with nothing but Grim on your back. he followed you walking down to the shore to see a large ship awaiting for a passenger and what shook him a bit more was that the headmaster was there beside the ship, expecting... you. Malleus watched in confusion as you gave your beloved fiery feline a huge and long hug and some shared words with the headmaster. he was about to teleport himself right in front of you when he saw you walk up the gangplank of the ship to hop aboard but he stopped himself when he remembered about your cast.

ahh yes, how could he forget. he gave you the broken arm, the cuts and wounds, he gave them all to you when he overblotted. he knew that you said you had a chance of going back home but he didn't think it'd have you to go by ship.. and without saying goodbye.

in the end he just watched you and the ship disappear, watched Grim slowly walk back to ramshackle, and watched the headmaster disappear on the spot.

for the next few days that passed he's been mourning the loss of your presence, he's almost casted spells to take himself to you-- to retrieve you and hide you in a tower with nothing but him to protect you... to right all the wrongs he's made. he'd bring you fresh flowers every day and make sure to keep you healthy and happy, he'd do anything to have you back.

but he should've held back, every other person who's overblot you had to deal with should've held back. the headmaster should've done his job. then maybe just maybe you would've been able to be in his arms that night when you left.

in the end he was the only one who didn't ever visit the headmaster for any information about you. he had no reason after all he saw you leave.

after he gets a grip on himself though, he will confront Headmaster Crowley for any information as to 'why' he let you leave.

right now all he could ask is why... why why??.. the more he felt stuck in his thoughts the more the storm outside worsened. at this point everyone could see how he's feeling, his entourage of three tried their best to comfort him but it was no use. the prince of thorns was stuck sulking, and he didn't know how else to stop unless you were back into his arms.

he's also been taking way too many naps now, strange to his three knights yet he knew he did this because every time in every one of his dreams he had you in his arms and walked beside you. he had you all to himself in his dreams.

he saw that this was a better solution than being awake.

(THIS IS SUPER LONG and I might've messed up here and there T-T hope it broke a few hearts tho! I tried my very best in each one of their reactions!<3)

[sturniolo04]

Bed Time Routine M.S.

Husband!GirlDad!Matt x Wife!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

Having twin daughters meant having alot of different failed attempts of chaotic routines. Throughout the years of you and Matt having twin daughters the amount of routines you tried to have in place that failed to stick due to having twin daughters. Although the one routine that you and Matt can count on that has stuck with your chaotic lives as twin parents was, bed time.

Which brings you to the favorite part of the day bed time.

"you girls finished with dinner"

you sweetly ask your two girls sitting at the island counter in there respective chairs.

"y'h"

Khloe mumbles out softly which was the oldest out of your two girls by 2 minutes.

"you guys know what time it is"

matt asks the girls coming back into the kitchen from the washing his hands in the bathroom.

"bafe time"

your youngest lilly giggles out.

"yes maam"

matt agrees and exclaims out as he picks up lilly running her up the stairs in his arms as she giggles.

"lets go mama"

you sweetly state to Khloe as she reaches her arms out to you picking her up setting her on your hip following matt to your guys bathroom.

you and Khloe made it into the bathroom to be met with the sight of Matt helping Lilly take her day clothes off to get ready to put her in the bath.

"okay in we go"

matt chuckles out as you and him place Klhoe and lilly in the bathtub and getting comfortable, knowing you guys have to supervised them being your guys bath together. You sit on top of the sink counter as matt stands next to your sitting figure leaning against the counter.

As you guys let your daughter play in the bath splashing the bubbly water to even attempting to consume the body wash matt mixed into their bath.

"NO dont eat that"

matt exclaims rushing over to lily lowering her hand from her mouth. As she looks at him testingly to see if he would allow her to do it again.

"dont think about it"

matt trails off looking at his daughter smiling curious face.

"lily no"

Khloe complains as she sees her sister continue to try to eat the chemicals in her hand, pushing her hand away from her mouth. watching the pair you giggle to yourself at the cuteness ensuing.

"okay you guys ready to get out"

as you hop off of the counter walking over to them kneeling in front of the tub as matt goes to get two towels from the closet in the bathroom.

"yes i' so cold"

lilly shudders out as you giggle at her actions.

"okay then come out we go"

matt states playfully as he and you lift the girls out of the tub wrapping their cold bodies in the warm fuzzy towels.

Once you got the pair dressed in there cute Pjs you were on the task of doing hair.

" how do you want it khlo"

you ask your daughter as she stands in front of you her back facing your chest as you two stand looking into the mirror.

"ponytail"

Khloe responds sleepily. Lilly on the other hand was always the hardest to get down for bed considering she had so much energy at night just like her father.

"okay go ahead brush your teeth at dads sink... LILLY"

you state to Khloe as you finally finish her hair calling for your other daughter who was probably bouncing on you and matts shared bed.

"y'sss"

she calls back slowly making her way into the bathroom where you and Khloe were with Matt following behind her.

"hi princess"

you greet her as she runs up to you giving you gentle hug, giggling

"hi"

she squeaks out quietly as you just melt at her pure cuteness.

"hair time"

you sweetly state as she stands in front of you as you being to do her hair into a messy bun on top of her head as matt walks over to Khloe, who was wrapping up brushing her teeth.

"you done princess"

matt asked Khloe as her carefully threads his fingers through her ponytail as she subtly nodded her head.

"y'h"

she mumbled out to him as he lifting her up in his arms setting her on his hip carrying her off to her room. as you finished up lilly's hair and started having her brushing her teeth.

Matt and Khloe make it into her room which was decorated in pretty pastel pink and blue accessories, with series of stuffed animals set on the bench right by her window in her room which were covered with sheer off white drapes. Matt sets Khloe on her bed tucking her in the covers after turning on the lamp set next to her bed on the nightstand table.

"goodnight khlo"

matt says to khloe as she yawns.

"g'night"

she mumbles out as matt kisses her forehead turning off her lamp and walking back to his shared master bedroom.

"okay lilly lets go"

you state out as you reach for her hand as she willing obliges as you walk her to her room which was in the theme of almost every color know on the world because she simply doesn't have a favorite color.

"okay get in bed i will tuck you in"

you sweetly state as your daughter jumps excitedly into her bed.

"okay do want me to read a story before bed"

you ask her already assuming the answer knowing your daughter is not the easiest to put to bed and knowing she was going to say yes anyway.

"yes"

she excitedly states as you go over to her purple bookshelf picking out a book that was one of her favorites and walking back the edge her bed beginning to read her the story.

you werent even halfway through the story and lilly was out like a light. You quietly placed the book on her nightstand walking out on turning off her lamp.

"Sleep?"

matt asks as you entered your guys shared room as you simply nod your head making your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

you let out a tired sigh as you finish putting your hair up in a ponytail for bed beginning to wash your face becoming unaware of your surroundings momentarily.

"jesus matt"

you softly scream not wanting to wake the twins as you felt his hands on your hips as he was standing behind you.

"sorry didnt mean to scare you"

he chuckles out as you begin dry your face off.

"you almost done"

matt asks softly resting his head on your shoulder as you let out a small giggle.

"yes i am done now actually"

you respond threading you fingers into his hair as you admire him through the glass mirror.

"okay great"

matt exclaims tugging on your waist to get a firm grip lifting you in the air and carrying you to the bed.

"mattheww"

you giggle out quietly as he sets you on your side of the bed him hopping in next you bringing you into him to cuddle in his warmth.

"goodnight"

he cheekily states closing his eyes content

" what am i going to do with you"

you giggle out placing a kiss on his forehead drifting off to sleep.

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03 @aaliyahstrn @stayingstromboli @emely9274

[yandere-kokeshi]

what about…

yandere ghost dad with reader who’s going on a bad path?

like hanging around delinquents, smoking and drinking at a young age or even doing drugs

i have a feeling he’d lock them up and throw away the key 😭

— Yandere Dad-Ghost with his gn kid, going down the ‘bad path’

Warnings: yandere behavior, everything Platonic, talks about smoking, drugs (and pot), alcohol, and isolation.

A/N: How do y’all come up with these good ideas?? I loved doing this, enjoy bby <3!

Simon would be worried about you, first and foremost. But also extremely disappointed; the dangerous stunts you do, especially with the wrong type of people, make his paranoia 10 times worse. 

When he had caught you smoking, either weed or tobacco, he was angry; instantly grabbing it from your hands, throwing it to the floor as he snapped at you. He had made a promise to himself — ensuring that you'd never turn into anything bad. And now, seeing you waste your teenage years with drinking alcohol, and potential drugs makes his stomach sick. 

Despite it being your first, or multiple times of doing your ‘rebel shit’, Simon is taking your health, and safety seriously; strictly warning you for the first and last time with a look of sheer disappointment and anger: “I don’t want to see that shit again–  y’know the rules of this house. D’ya understand me? Repeat it back.”

Simon thought you’d understand. You were a kid, still experiencing life. Finding who you are. You’ll be fine, as long as you follow his rules. But, when on a lazy Saturday, getting a call from 911 past midnight — saying you were arrested, obviously intoxicated, and smelling like weed? His impatience snapped like a rubber-band. 

In the end, yes, your beloved father would lock the key and throw it out; keeping you isolated in the house, with just him, where he can watch you. You can be mad at him, throw things at him. Hell, even say you hate him. But at the end of the day, it’s for your protection. 

Everything in the house is extra supervised — your internet, and screen-time is watched 24/7. Life360 is added onto your phone. The door to your room is removed, and covered with a thick blanket. The bathroom breaks are irritating, because if you’re in there for more than 10 minutes, he’s knocking and demanding to be let in.

And let’s not forget where he turns you to online schooling within a day or so. Making sure to get rid of those sick friends of yours, but you’ll never know what happens to them because the contact with them is cut. 

Make no mistake, Simon doesn’t like taking your free-will, he wants you to act and be like a teenager. And it is something he didn’t get to do when he was younger. 

But… he loves you, and if it’s what he has to do, then so be it.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[hurtspideyparker]

Tony can't handle his emotions properly and his love for Peter ends up pushing him away.

Peter gets severely injured on patrol and hides it from Tony, but Karen overrides his command and informs Friday/Tony that Peter is in danger.

Tony flies out and saves Peter's life, but once Peter is in the tower safe and coherent Tony starts yelling at him, furious and upset; Peter doesn't even get a chance to thank him before he's bombarded with the scathing tone, turning him defensive.

The older's anger comes from a place of fear of losing Peter. Tony wasn't allowed to show fear growing up; in front of his father, Obadian, the press, Stark Industries shareholders... and later on it kept him safe in front of his captors, his enemies. Tony was taught with anger, and doesn't know how to express the softness inside him any other way.

His misconstruction of the protectiveness he feels only makes Peter more upset.

"This is why I didn't wanna tell you, you'd just get mad again! Maybe I should just get rid of this stupid suit if you're just gonna keep spying on me all the time."

"You would have been DEAD if Karen wasn't smart enough to override your commands, you would have been dead without me or that suit!"

"I would have figured it out, I always figure it out. I don't wanna depend on you constantly! All I do is bother you, and make you upset. I'm sick of being a chore, like I'm some stupid kid who needs rescuing all the time. When I didn't have you I was fine!"

Tony scoffs, "when you didn't have me you were playing pretend in pajamas. This is why you need training wheels, hell you probably need adult supervision. You're lucky I even let you go out-"

"You're not my dad!"

Tony pauses. He stares at Peter, who's chest pumps furiously from his heavy breathing, a hand holding his side where his bullet wound resides.

The sight of bandages on Peter's young frame makes Tony dizzy. He's reminded once again how close he was to losing Peter today, how much thread would have been cut short from the spindle of his life. He looks so small in the hospital bed, almost frail despite his enhanced muscular body.

His cheeks are stained red from anger. He's pale, too pale, a sheen of sweat on the frowning wrinkles of upset brows.

Bed rest, relaxed environment, taking it easy.

Tony feels sick.

"I can't be here right now," he tells the boy without making eye contact, turning and leaving the room.

The automatic glass doors slide shut behind him with a woosh. He stands still for a second to catch his own breath. What is he thinking, acting like the kid's parent? He's right, he can do whatever he wants. Tony can't ground him, has no right to control him. This isn't his problem.

Tony takes his phone out to inform Peter's Aunt May of what happened and to tell Happy to pick her up. The doctor said Peter needed to stay here for at least a few hours, even with his enhanced healing.

Bed rest, relaxed environment, taking it easy.

Tony glances up through the glass for a moment.

Peter is lying back down, one hand still resting on his wound as if he's holding himself together, the other gripping his own arm with a furious handprint. If he could he'd probably be crossing his arms while huffing and puffing, petulant in his solitude.

His free hand suddenly moves to his face, the back wiping across his eyes and cheeks before his palm brushes up the underside of his nose. His shoulders shake with a sniffle and his hand comes back glistening in the sterile lighting.

He's crying.

Anger bubbles up in Tony again, familiar yet now aimed inwards. If any other person had hurt Peter Tony wouldn't hesitate to tear them a new one.

Maybe that's the problem.

Tony refuses to go back into that room. Not when he does that to Peter, not when his wrath is still bubbling under his skin, cracking the delicate glass that bridges his relationships.

So he leaves Peter alone, and thinks - maybe this is better for both of them.

[skzdarlings]

part viii: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (chapter word count; 13,800 words)

chapter warnings: the usual dynamics and abuse history. reader is harassed at a bar by a handsy man. some fighting. unprotected sex. BDSM dynamics (dom!felix/sub!reader, sadism, masochism, rope bondage, spanking, belting, fear kink).

-

You sleep through most of the afternoon, waking in that bleary, purple hour where evening is unexpectedly creeping into the day.   Felix is not in the room, though the evidence of your lovemaking remains in the mess of your shared bed.  There is also a tender ache between your thighs but it does not register as pain, or at least not as bad.   It is proof of pleasure. 

You touch yourself there, still sleepy but still wanting. 

You listen for Felix.  He is talking in the other room, on the phone with your father.  You slip out of bed and dig around for a shirt, because you don’t want to distract Felix too bad while he is reporting. 

A conversation with your father will no doubt cool him down, more effective than a douse of ice water, but you will not abandon him to that cold.  Never again. 

You wait in the corridor, listening as he mentions your missed class but lying about you having a stomach flu.  He claims he made you rest because you have an important exam in a few days.   He also claims you argued with him, which is convincingly in character for you, but naturally he won this supposed argument so your father has ‘nothing to worry about’. 

You grin, biting your bottom lip, as tender from loving as the rest of you.   

Felix ends the call.  After a moment, he sighs and says, “I know you’re there.” 

You turn the corner.  Felix is sitting in the middle of the couch, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.  His hair is partially pulled back, a lazy half-bun with the rest in a messy sweep around his neck.  The collar of the shirt does not hide the love bite on his throat, twin to your own. 

Despite his frown, he is sitting with his legs apart, and light sweatpants do very little for hiding anything inside them.   He clears his throat but doesn’t close his legs, just cocks an eyebrow when you meet his gaze.    

You blink oh-so innocently.

“You made me sound like such a good girl,” you say.  “Even I almost believed it.” 

You can see the amusement tugging at his lips.  He pushes his tongue into his cheek. 

“Mmm…” His low voice comes softly.  “But you are a good girl.  When you want to be.”

“When I’m made to be, you mean,” you say. 

You hold his gaze as you approach.  He plays the professional, watching you with a detachment that contradicts the thickening bulge in his sweats.   Your desire is even more obvious, in your eyes and face and the sway of your body. 

You put your hands on his knees and bend over, the collar of your shirt swooping low.  Still, he looks into your eyes and no where else.   A conversation happens there, beneath the surface of your words.  You have often read each other like a book. 

Come with me, you say, and though he does not move, though his body and eyes are rooted, he lets a little fondness run through the fissures of his usual mask.  He finally looks at your lips. 

“Do you tell them?” you ask.  You get down on your knees, face at level with his open thighs.  “When they ask how you get me to behave, how you seem to do it so easily when so many tried and failed…”      

He says your name, darkly coloured with promise.  You both know where this is leading. 

It is not just about the kneeling or the pouting, but that this is you, who has never willingly knelt for even the most dangerous of men.  And when you rest your head on his knee, you are thinking about that, about how it is only for him, exactly as he is.   How he knows every possible way his body could be used to hurt someone.  How he runs a gentle hand across your hair. 

“Sweetheart,” he says.

“Do you tell them how you win our arguments?”  you ask, flicking your gaze from between his legs to his face.  “Or do you leave out the part where you shut me up with your dick in my mouth?” 

His hand drifts down your face and he holds your chin, lifts your head.  He furrows his brow as if he, too, is completely innocent. 

“Shut you up?” he asks.  He presses two fingers at your lips in a patient request.  You open your mouth and take him to the knuckle.  “That doesn’t sound right.”  He lets you tease him, lets you swirl your tongue around his fingers.  He looks at those fingers as he slides them out between your lips and back in again.  “You weren’t quiet this afternoon,” he says.  “Mmm, the opposite even, I think, don’t you?” 

You give him your best glare, to which he laughs, a little huff of amusement. 

“You can hate me,” he says, “if it makes you feel better.” 

He stands and takes his fingers with him, so you chase him with pursed lips.  Your breath catches when he grabs the back of your neck, stopping your pursuit, holding you firmly, safely. 

He smiles down at you with that too-sweet, too-innocent smile.  His other hand unties the band of his sweats. 

You swallow.  Your heart is thumping, an excited and pleasurable thrum you feel right down to the core of you.   You blink up at him as the waistband comes loose so he can roll the material down, his dick hard and springing up, his hand as firm on the back of your neck. 

You smile. 

“Make me,” you say. 

He smiles back. 

“Don’t have to,” he says.  “You’ll do what I say.  Now come on.  Be a good girl and open your mouth.”

He is right, that it takes nothing more than that.  You want him too badly to even pretend to refuse, your lips parting in an open kiss that welcomes him to enjoy you as much as you are enjoying yourself. 

Though he plays along, Felix is naturally restrained.  Even when assuming the semblance of total control, he holds himself in a type of bondage, his body tense and breath ragged. 

You make a showy mess of your wet mouth and stick out your tongue. 

“Is that it?” you ask.  “I don’t think you would any arguments like that—”

He laughs and shakes his head.  He hesitates only a moment before taking your face in his hands and fucking himself back into your open mouth.  

It gets you hot and wet, how he hands himself over to you, how he trusts you with the pleasure he is always so reluctant to accept.   You give it to him and more, until your jaw is sore and your face is wet with tears. 

He touches you there, looking down at you with the sort of reverence that usually comes from the person kneeling.  He cups your face and tilts it up, looking at you affectionately even while stroking his dick right beside your cheek. 

You glance there out of the corner of your eye, then bat your eyelashes up at him. 

“I hate you,” you say, and it makes him come in a streak on your wet cheek. 

It is stupidly hot, but Felix being Felix apologizes anyway. 

When he reaches for you, you lean away.  His gaze is wary, watching as you swipe a finger over your cheek then lick that finger clean.  There is very little evidence left on your face, but you gather what remains and put your fingers back in your mouth, giggling as he huffs but surrenders to a smile.   He reaches again but you dodge his hand. 

You wonder if he is also remembering your first night together: how he chased you to stop you from petulantly shoving things in your mouth, how you were the hot-tempered girl you are pretending to be now, how he was the dutiful soldier already in over his head because of that girl. 

You think he does remember, because you understand each other with one glance. 

You run and he chases you.   He vaults the couch and sweeps you into his arms before you can get too far. 

When Felix truly applies himself, you stand no chance of escaping, so every little squirm and wiggle is something he grants you.   

Right now, he concedes no ground.  He locks you in his arms, your back to his front, and marches you right up to the window.  

It is a mirror on the outside and, even if it was not, you are too high up for anyone to see anything but a spec in the glass.  Still, there is a thrilling moment when you feel like you are standing on top of the whole city, where everyone can see you, where they can see him, his hand slipping under your shirt as you plant your palms on the glass. 

“That’s it,” he says, nudging your feet apart with a little kick. 

Your breath is already fogging the glass by the time he touches you.  He makes an even more guttural sound than you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he rubs his fingers through all that wet desire. 

His hair is more dishevelled now, wisps falling from the knot.  You unravel just as quickly, quicker even, riding the rhythm he sets with his hand. 

His arm is around your neck, cradling you close, and his other hand is inside you.  You press against him and come to the soft sound he makes, to his breath hitting your neck, to everything intimate between you. 

His touch gentles but not stop.  You realize he does not intend to stop, that he is slowly working you towards another orgasm.  You whimper and wriggle in his grip, but you also push desperately onto his hand. 

He shushes you soothingly, his arm holding you steady when your knees start to tremble.  He eases you both down, on your knees, never ceasing his touching. 

You come even harder the second time, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. 

He kisses your face then slows down and finally stops his touching.  He cups his hand over your pussy with a sort of possessiveness.  Then he sighs with satisfaction, his breath waking goosebumps along your skin. 

“That’s my girl,” he says, a soft murmur. 

It is only for you, a secret whisper spoken right into your ear.  You look down at the city beneath you, sprawling as far as the eye can see, all the way to the where to the last rays of sunlight peek over the horizon.  An entire world. 

You touch a hand to the glass.  He kisses your neck and your eyes close.  You imagine falling into that big open world, secure in his protective hold. 

You let yourself relax in his arms.  You release a breath you did not realize you had been holding.

-

The next few semesters pass in a blur of similar dreams and desires.  It is just you and Felix in the middle of everything, in and out of a dangerous world, escaping to a haven of your own design.  

You do not know where the times goes, but weeks turn to months.  Semesters come and go. Another graduation looms on the not-so-distant horizon.  Somehow, you feel as ill-equipped for the world as you did when you were a teenager.   

So much has changed and so much has stayed the same.  When it is just you and Felix in that apartment, you feel free to safely exist.  You lives are mired in trouble and trauma but you grow comfortably into your weird, grown-up selves.  You might even say you are happy to be who you are, appreciating the good days because of the bad ones.  

But beyond graduation is the looming threat of a permanent return to your father’s house and the life he has planned for you. 

You are spending the weekend there, in your old bedroom, because of a few events your father wants you to attend.  After just one day in his house, you revert to all your anxious teenage habits.  It worries Felix when you withdraw like that, when you get snippy and cold, though he knows you well enough to understand.  

You look at him now, on the opposite side of this huge bed, far away because you are not alone in this house.  The space feels bigger than you remember.  Terror forms its usual death grip on your heart.  You wonder how you were ever so reckless with your safety, with his safety.  Felix is the bodyguard but you would do anything to keep him safe. 

You slide a little closer, then a little more.  The cadence of his breathing changes as he wakes, always a light sleeper, though he does not open his eyes.  

You brush some hair off his face.  He leans into your touch and you smile despite everything.  You stroke his cheek and feel your sorrows melt with his soft exhale.   

“Rest,” he says in a deep voice rough with sleep.

You continue to stroke your thumb over his cheek, just looking at his face.  His roots are getting dark again and his freckles are more pronounced in the blue dark of this bedroom.   You admire his profile, the slope of his nose, his lips, and you find yourself overcome with affection and desire. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, catching your hand when it slides down his neck.  “Not now.” 

His admonition makes sense.  You have only been here a day.  You will be back in the apartment in a few more.   An apartment with privacy and protection, where you can touch each other without any consequences.  There is no reason to put yourselves in jeopardy here, tonight. 

Maybe you do remember how and why you were so reckless as a child, stealing back whatever parts of your life you could, whenever you could, however you could.  You should be allowed to touch who you want when you want.  You should be allowed to live in your own body. 

You want to feel alive, and you feel most alive when you act in defiance of all the rules that would restrain you, when you face down danger in your path and steal back your heart from that death grip. 

“Felix,” you say.  Then, in a softer hush, you whisper, “Baby.” 

It catches his breath as it always does, such a simple endearment, so common, like he is just a boy and you’re just his girl.  You are certain if you slide your hand lower, you will find him already getting hard just from hearing it. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

“This is crazy,” he whispers, eyes still closed, tightly now, like he can make the rest of the world disappear by not looking at it. 

“I’ve always been crazy,” you say.  “You like me anyway.” 

He finally opens his eyes.  He looks at you and your heart skips beats, and you wonder if that gaze will ever cease to make your heart race this way.  Years and years and years of sharing this bed, and you still feel warm and dreamy when he strokes the pad of his thumb across your knuckles. 

“Hmm, doesn’t matter how I feel, yeah?” he says.  “You hate me no matter what.” 

His tone is light and teasing.  It is your usual innuendo.  The game you always play. 

You do not want to play any games tonight.  Tears prickle in your eyes as you look at him, as those words cross his lips.  You want so badly to say what you really mean, but your emotion gets the best of you and the words never cross your lips. 

His brow furrows when he realizes you are struggling with something.  He touches your face, turning it towards him to look at you more closely.  A tear slips down your cheek and he wipes it away. 

“Felix,” you say.  You shake your head.  You clasp his hand to your cheek.  “Make love to me.” 

You cannot help but laugh at the look on his face.  Very little surprises him, a consummate professional in all appearances, and he is good at absorbing his own shock and moving on.  But he looks physically stunned, eyes wide and mouth open, words caught in a cluster on his tongue. 

When you laugh, it snaps him out of his daze.  His face softens, expression fond if not a little morose. 

“This is, uhh…” He clears his throat, shakes his head.  “Stupid.” 

“I don’t care,” you say.

It is the truth.  You are suddenly completely apathetic to everything beyond the bedroom door.  You don’t care if they catch you.  You don’t care if they hurt you.  You don’t even care if they kill you.  That dark thought has you reaching desperately for the only source of light and life in the room. 

You wrap your arms around Felix.  You hold his shoulders and kiss his face, lining your body up against his.  When you kiss below his jaw, he makes a soft sound of surrender.   His hand slides up the back of your shirt, rests between your shoulder blades and holds you, firmly, as he looks at you then kisses you. 

Your eyes close and you kiss him back.  They stay closed, even when the kiss deepens, when he licks into your mouth, when he catches your sigh with a bruising press of his lips.  You let yourself fall into the sublime haze of desire, not looking but feeling. 

He puts you on your back and holds himself above you.  You are already breathing hard.  You tug on his shirt so he leans back and whips it off.  Then you are touching his bare shoulder, his back, dragging your nails down his backside and feeling him shiver against you. 

His open mouth is hot against your throat, wet on your chest through your shirt, then under it.   You tug it off and over your head, leaving it spilled on the pillow beside you, then your arms are around him and your legs are spreading to fit his hips.  You are both fumbling with the last of your clothes when he gasps against your throat and mumbles something like, “We don’t have—we can’t—”   

Some distant, logical part of your brain knows he means protection.  After the first coming together, you’ve been careful in all your intimate moments.  But sense and logic are far from your mind right now. 

Once you are both completely naked and free, you wrap around him and pull him to you.  He comes to you with another surrendering sigh. 

Your eyes have been closed for so long, and the physical sensations have been so strong, that you very literally see stars when he is finally inside you.   

He instinctively covers your mouth when you make too loud a sound.  You grab that hand and lace your fingers, then rest it beside your head.  He covers your mouth with his, gathering your other hand so both are pushed into the mattress on either side of your head.   He is so close, his whole body pressed to yours, that you think he must be deeper inside you than ever before. 

His hips roll against yours with a slow sensuality, one sometimes lacking in your more desperate couplings.  It all feels so good that you genuinely believe you could die happy if you died right now. 

He makes another soft noise that sounds like a question.  You answer with a gentle moan of your own, a squeeze of your fingers between his, and a clenching between your thighs that has his whole hard body going soft and tender in seconds.  He comes inside you and maybe that should wake you up and cause alarm, but it doesn’t.  The room just gets quieter, your heart thumping against his all the while.  He holds himself above you for a few breathless seconds then lets go. 

You hold him against you, hands separating so you can slide them along his arms and up into his hair.  His face rests in the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

Maybe you should feel more concern for your circumstance.  But you are not really worried. 

Tomorrow, you will attend another party, you will smile, you will dance with someone your father pushes your way.  

A few days later, you will convince your father to let you take birth control, claiming it is to manage your irregular and too-heavy period flows.  He will be as immature as ever and quickly agree, anything to end a conversation he finds too awkward to navigate. 

You and Felix will go back to your apartment.  You will study for tests and drink coffee and write essays.   You will count the days to graduation.

Right now, you laugh.  It is soft and carefree.  It catches when he slides out of you, but it returns when he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow.  But his regard is a tender one.  You stroke his face and he kisses your palm, then he swoops down and kisses your nose and cheeks and just under your chin. 

I’m alive, you think.  In your father’s house, disobeying all his rules.   He has tried so hard to kill you, to break you down into pieces that he can rebuild, the way he does with any malfunctioning piece of industry tech.  And he has failed.  Despite his best efforts, despite his money and power and influence over what seems like the whole world, you are alive. 

You concede that maybe with your problems and imperfections, there is not much more to boast, but being alive is all that matters. 

Felix kisses you.  You think about the childish fairy tales that your father and grandfather ensured never took root in your mind.    If you were like them, you would not believe in magic kisses or true love or saving grace.

You kiss Felix back. 

-

“Can you ride a motorcycle?” you ask.

Felix, who is concentrating so you do not fall off your bicycle, briefly flicks his gaze up to you.  You lose your balance and swerve, but he is quick to catch the handlebar and steer you straight.  His hands hover around you as he walks alongside where you peddle. 

“I can do anything,” he says but absently, too focussed on watching you. 

You snort and your amusement almost derails you again.  You correct your wobble with a little jerk of the handles. 

“Cocky,” you say.  “I’ll have to see it to believe it.” 

Felix laughs.  He holds the handle and guides you around a corner in the path.   

“Maybe I should learn to ride a motorcycle,” you say with absolutely no sincerity.  “I’m sure my father would loooove that, don’t you think?” 

Felix levels you with a predictably dry regard.  You giggle maniacally which causes you to swerve again.    

He steers you forward with a quick yank.  He cannot help but smile at your cheesy grin.

“How about you learn to ride a regular bike first, hmm?” he says. 

“It’s not my fault,” you say, wobbling again.  “It’s the wind.”

“Mhm.” 

“It is!”

It is a rather blustery day, all grey skies and swift winds.  Felix almost lost his favourite beanie, so now it is yanked tight and low over his head so you can hardly see a wisp of hair.  You are similarly bundled in a hoodie, the strings drawn comically tight around your face so it would stop blowing off.  Felix keeps snickering when he looks at you, but it just makes you giggle back at him. 

The university has bicycles for rent to cross campus.  Though you usually walk, today you thought it would be fun to try, even if you did immediately disprove the old adage about memory and bike riding.  

You have not ridden a bike since childhood.   You were not allowed to use it outside because your father was concerned the wheels would carry you away too quickly, that something could happen before your nanny and guards caught up.  You were only allowed to ride your bike in the gym, which got very boring very fast, so you never bothered with it.  The only other time you sat on a bike was the few times you sat on the handlebars when Jisung rode his bike around. 

The memory comes so suddenly, a snapshot of a moment you did realize you remembered so vividly.  His goofy laughter sings through your memory, your own delighted shrieks as he sped down a slope and scared himself more than you. 

It makes you a little sullen.  After years, it seems ridiculous that you should still be so hung-up on an adolescent friendship, especially with so much more to occupy your mind.  But then, you suppose it was not just any friendship.   The Han Jisungs of the world are few and far between.  You were lucky to know him while you did.  Without him, you doubt you would have ever gotten on a bike again. 

Without him, you doubt you would have ever done much of anything but curl into an empty husk of a person. 

Instead, you are soft and smiling when Felix touches your back.  He notices the change in your disposition and looks at you with concern, and it does not trigger frustration nor do you flinch from his touch.  You just smile and steady your handlebars. 

“Just silly stuff,” you say with a shake of your head.  “Sometimes I sat on Jisung’s bike while he drove us around.  Just… thinking about him, I guess.” 

“Mm.”  Felix nods, understanding.  He holds the handle to help keep you steady but he looks ahead, sighing into the wind.  “It’s not silly.   Your friendship was important,” Felix says.  “Though, uhh, I definitely wouldn’t trust Jisung behind the wheels of a motorcycle.”

You laugh at the image of Jisung on a motorbike when that poor boy would sweat just from speeding down a hill.

“No,” you say.  “Definitely not for him.” 

Of course, maybe that is not true anymore.  You are picturing a teenage boy, but Jisung will be as grown as you now.  Who knows what he looks like or what he enjoys, what he fears or wants anymore. 

Romantic intimacy holds its own special felicity, but it is still different from the gentle affection of friendship.  Your heart pangs with the ache of missing him, of years passed apart, of your first ever friend now potentially being as unrecognizable to you as any stranger.  

“I just hope he’s happy,” you say, feeling it so strongly you cannot keep it yourself.  But then, that was always the way with Jisung, to have liked him so much that you cannot help but let it spill out of you, consciously or not.  You’re kinder for having known him.  You know how to joke and be goofy and make Felix smile. 

“Me too,” Felix says.  “He was… well, sort of my friend too.  In a way.” 

“He was,” you say.  “I guess he was the first friend for us both—whoa!”

You make a playful swipe at his shoulder and it makes you lose your balance again.  Felix fortunately catches you with those lightning-fast reflexes, holding you up while your bike hits the pavement.  There is some stumbling while you try to stand, tangled up with the bike, and nearly yank him down with you. 

Eventually you step out.  Felix brushes off your shoulders and pats down your arms, as if inspecting for injuries. 

“I’m fine,” you say, at the same time Felix says, “He wasn’t.”

“Huh?”  You blink at him.  “Who wasn’t what?”

“Jisung,” Felix says, a little exasperated.  “He wasn’t my first fr—”  He cuts himself off when he meets your eye, frowning instead.  He tugs on the string of your hoodie so your already tight lacing gets a little snugger.  “I’m not talking about this while you look like that,” he intones dryly. 

Before you can even open your mouth to protest or ask more, he picks up the bike and swings onto the seat for himself. 

“Come on,” he says, patting the handlebars.  “I’m hungry.  Let’s go.” 

You are not exactly a spritely adolescent anymore, but you manage to get yourself perched up on the handlebars.  Felix is a better driver than Jisung, faster too, and you find yourself laughing into the wind from the thrill of it.  When you reach the campus café, Felix is smiling too, and your previous conversation is forgotten for the time being. 

You park the bike in one of the rental receptacles then enter the café.  The warmth inside is a balm after the chill.  You take off your hood and breathe in deeply, satisfied.  Felix rubs your back as he walks you up to the counter to order. 

You are waiting for your order when you hear your name.  You lift your head, smiling when you see the friendly, dimpled grin of a class-mate, Yang Jeongin.   He is a year younger than you but academically advanced so you have shared a few classes over the years.  He is a very sweet boy, but you have kept your distance given what happened to the last very sweet boy you befriended. 

“Jeongin, hi!” you say. 

“Hi, what’s up?” he says. “Have you started any of your final projects?  I’m already drowning.”

His big smile and wheezy laugh is disarming in its boyish charm, though you know Felix has his guard up as always.  You are still not expecting to feel a proprietary touch settle low on your back, subtle but possessive, and it makes your stomach flip. 

It is not really necessary anyway.  Jeongin is genuinely just being friendly.  He even invites you and Felix to sit with him and his friend, Seungmin, and talk about some readings. 

Instinct almost propels you to blurt your usual reply, a polite dismissal or vague promise of a next time that never comes.  Friendships don’t end well.  You know that. 

But Jisung is on your mind, not just the bad but the good.  You find yourself agreeing, then you find yourself sitting at a table with two class-mates, having a normal conversation about school and exams and some silly, gossipy campus rumours.  You laugh and drink, and Felix does too. 

You touch his knee briefly.  He touches your hand under the table. 

You leave the café feeling lighter, a bounce in your step that has Felix smiling affectionately at you. 

“I do have to tell your father something,” Felix reminds you.  “If he found out you were seeing people and I said nothing—”

“Ughhhh, clock out for two seconds,” you say.  To be extra annoying, you reach out and yank his beanie down over his face.  “Just tell him I’m studying with some people.  It’s for the benefit of my education, so I can be  his perfect and dazzling heir, since I am such a well behaved little girl now, all thanks to the dutiful care and guidance of my oh-so competent bodyguard. See? No big deal.” 

Felix fixes his beanie and shakes his head at you, but he still smiling. 

“I think you and the rest of the world have, hmm, a different idea of no big deal,” he says.  “You know, your extremely powerful father for one… and how he might, uhh, ruin our lives…?” 

You shrug. 

“Win some, lose some,” you say, to which Felix laughs and rubs his face in disbelief.  

Although some days the power of your father and the world under the thumb seems insurmountable, some days all you can do is sigh in the face of it.  Today feels like one of those days.  You are so often frightened or sad or just downright despondent.  Sometimes, the pendulum swings back the other way, and all you can do is laugh. 

You do so now, pulling your hood up and tightening the string around your face again. 

“Don’t worry, bodyguard,” you say with an exaggerated, innocent flutter of your eyelashes.  “I trust you to keep me out of trouble.”

-

“Oh, you are gonna get me in so much trouble,” you say.   

Seungmin laughs.  

A few weeks have passed in which you have tentatively befriended Jeongin and Seungmin.  Jeongin is all smiles and wheezy laughter, with a biting wit that catches both you and Felix off guard.  You can tell Felix enjoys his companionship, even beyond the superficial college-boy role he plays.  And not just because Jeongin is something of a gamer and Felix not-so secretly likes having a go at whatever hand console Jeongin keeps on him. 

You quite like Seungmin.  He is more soft-spoken until he has an opinion to vocalize, at which point there is no escaping his somewhat scathing commentary.  His frankness reminds you a little of Hyunjin, just without any showmanship or embellishment.  With Seungmin, what you see is what you get.  He’s smart and funny and playful, and you like listening to him talk about the readings and his family and all the general shenanigans of an ordinary life.

Felix has told your father they are study partners, which is not an outright lie as all of your interactions have taken place on campus.  You have stayed away from parties and clubs and private spaces, so there has been nothing tangible to protest. 

But today certainly straddles that line. 

After class, the four of you went to your usual campus café.  With a major project due at the start of next week, you have been swamped with work. 

It was after a few hours and several coffees that Jeongin suggested a break.  There are a couple bars around the sprawling campus.  Felix was a little hesitant but your pout was as effective as ever in persuading him.  

The bar is a cozy one, packed wall-to-wall with noisy students seeking downtime.  There is no way anything insane would transpire in here. 

Other than Kim Seungmin. 

“What, you can’t leave your boyfriend for a second?” Seungmin says, but with no animosity, smiling his big puppy grin.  He exhales and shakes his head, eyebrows lifted in faux exasperation.  “That sucks for you, wow.” 

“First of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” you say.  You look over at Felix who is standing at a pinball machine with Jeongin.  His eyes keep darting over to you even though you are not that far away.  The game is just a few steps from the couch where you and Seungmin sit.   

Felix smiles.  He is in his favourite black beanie, some ripped black jeans, and a crisp white coat, wisps of blonde hair falling over his freckled face.  He looks like such a guy, just a casual university senior, slouching against the wall with hands in his pockets, chatting with his friend and his eyes on his smiling girlfriend.   It certainly looks as simple as that.  Your heart does not know the difference. 

He looks away for a moment because Jeongin says something.  Felix laughs.  The room is loud so you do not hear him, but you know that laugh so well, the low drop and happy rumble.  His eyes crinkle with delight.  Your heart skips beats like a little girl with a crush starting all over again. 

“Right,” Seungmin says, looking between you and Felix.  “Sure.”

You punch Seungmin playfully on the arm. 

“Stop,” you say.  “We’re just friends.” 

It is for the best you maintain that as your cover story.  It would be far too convoluted to pretend to be together while being together but lying about being together and—    

No.  It is for the best that no one ever suspects, that everyone assumes you are close friends or room-mates and nothing more.  Not an inkling of your true dynamic. 

No one needs to know you woke before your alarm this morning, that you kissed Felix awake, planting soft kisses on his face until he smiled.  That you teased him and kissed him and finally bit his shoulder, a playful step too far, so he gathered you in his arms and kissed you breathless.  That he stretched out behind you, that he pulled back your thigh with a strong grip and kissed your neck.  That he fucked you long and slow until you were gasping and wriggling in his arms.  That he made you come mere minutes before your alarm.  That he then made a professional call to your father about the week’s plans and the pompous, foolish, awful man was none the wiser.   

You look his way.  Felix winks then looks down at the game again. 

Seungmin clears his throat and you look at him with all the innocence you can muster.  He just laughs. 

“Uh-huh,” Seungmin says.  “Well, does he know you’re just friends?  I mean, seriously, watch this—”

Seungmin slings his arm over the back of the couch, not quite around your shoulders but close nonetheless.  He leans in ever so slightly and Felix looks over as if on cue.  He would never cause a scene without due cause, and, besides, you doubt he seriously considers Seungmin a threat, but he instinctively shifts into guard mode. 

It sends Seungmin into peels of laughter.  You thump him on the leg. 

“Ahaha,” Seungmin says, but lowers his arm.  “Fine, I’ll go get drinks all alone so your super good friend doesn’t pop a vein if you come with me.” 

You hide your face in your hands and shake your head while Seungmin laughs.   He gives you a pat on the back before rising and pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar counter. 

Felix watches him go then looks at you.  You smile at him reassuringly, waving a hand, non-committal. 

Your stomach does a little flip when his sharp stare softens to something more intimate, something just for you.  Years ago, you worried those glances and touches would be addicting, and you were right.  It is more intoxicating than anything in a glass.  Headier than the atmosphere of the bar.  You are flushed with warmth in seconds, the packed heat of the bar keeping that warmth at a simmer. 

You have always desperately chased highs and adrenaline, whatever form they took, good or bad.  When Felix looks away, you crave the thrill of his determined attention, so you stand and step behind the couch.  He looks up as quickly, like you knew he would, standing straight and taking his hands out of his pockets. 

You truly do not go far.  You have no intention of running, of making him follow, of making him worry.  You would not do that to him.  While you are certain no one would try anything in a place as public as a campus bar, you nonetheless will not play completely stupid games.   You only mean to catch his eye so you can level with him a teasing smirk of your own. 

But then someone grabs your arm and yanks.  The unexpected touch and the forcefulness triggers a swift panic, your eyes swimming with the shapes of shuffling bodies, your ears slurring what sound like a friendly enough sentence – someone asking if you are in a certain class with him. 

“I think I’ve seen you,” he says, still gripping your arm.  He smells as drunk as he sounds.  Harmless, or maybe not, given the bruising strength of his touch.  Drunken stupidity can be as dangerous as conniving intention.  “But you always got that little lap dog hanging around, cutie,” he says.  “Can’t get within a foot of you without him in the way—”

Said lap dog manifests without delay.  The man is taller but he is no match for Felix who comes up behind him and yanks on his collar.   

Felix pulls the man over backwards to stare him down.  He says, “Hands. Off. Now.”

The man lets go but with a stupid, futile struggle, shoving you so hard that you hit the woman behind you and topple her drink. 

In less than a second, the man is on the ground, people shrieking and stepping back when he falls.  Felix steps over him to reach you, catching your hand and touching the side of your face. 

“You all right?” he asks. 

Everything happened so fast that you hardly know what to say.  Instinctively, you throw your arms around his neck to be closer to him.  He hugs you back as fiercely, murmuring words of comfort that get muffled in your shoulder. 

His senses are sharper than yours.  He knows the man is up and he turns in time to catch the clumsy punch the guy throws his way.  Felix does not show off, even though he could probably lay the guy low a second time.  He just pushes the hand away. 

This nonchalant rejection seems to anger the man more than a direct hit.  He is embarrassed and his stupor only encourages retaliation.  His buddies are trying to pull him back now, failing to lead him off. 

The man looks at you, red from both exertion and embarrassment, and says with a snarl in his upper lip, “Should keep that dog on a leash.” 

Splash.

It takes a second for everyone to realize what just happened.  The man is as startled as you, standing stock still with something dripping down his face. 

You all look over to Seungmin who is standing there with a half-empty glass.

“Uh… Woof I guess?” Seungmin says, then throws the rest of his drink on him. 

The guy staggers towards Seungmin who backs up rapidly.  Then Jeongin literally flies in between them and takes a swing at the guy.  It completely misses and he smacks his hand on a stool, but it is enough for the man to back up.   He must decide that the odds of three-on-one are not in his favour so he finally abandons course, shaking his head as he stalks off with his friends. 

“Yeah, yeah, walk away,” Seungmin says as menacingly as Seungmin possibly can, which is not much, especially with Jeongin doubled over beside him.  He is shaking out his hand, his face contorted with pain from hitting the stool.  “Are you okay?” Seungmin asks.

“Yeah, I’m—” Jeongin starts. 

“Not you, dumbass,” Seungmin says.  “Go apologize to that chair you assaulted.  I’m talking to her.”  He looks at you with a tilt of his head.

You nod, letting Felix tuck you under his arm.  He rubs your arm soothingly, up and down, and it helps ground you. 

“Just happened really fast,” you say.  “Startled me, you know…” 

“The guy was a jerk,” Seungmin says.  

Felix scoffs.  His eyes follow the retreating figure.  “No kidding,” he says. 

“I just wanna go home,” you say. 

Your panic ebbs and the hurricane inside you settles. 

You touch Felix’s chest.  His heart is beating fast with adrenaline.  Your breath catches when he looks at you, tendrils of frustration radiating off him.  Yet despite the aura of energy, he looks composed, hair neat across his forehead, beanie in place.  His jacket is slightly rucked up the arm, but otherwise he is in perfect command of himself. 

Your heart dances its bewildered little dance. 

His hand drops to your hip and he tugs you close.  He exhales through his nose, your eyes drawn to his closed mouth.

You think you must be drunk despite not touching a drop of liquor.  How else to explain the physical sensations inside you, so contradictory to your heart and mind?  Your soul could never, ever abide by violence or true possessive domination, not with your history and upbringing. 

But perhaps it is that, the naturally contradictory nature of its manifestation in Felix.  Made by violence, but not made of it.  You feel safe because his careful touches and gentle glances do not come from the same blithe, civilian naivete of your sweet friends.  It comes from all the violence and control that he rises above. 

He holds you and you are safe, protected. 

You say goodbye to your friends and Felix calls the car.  You wait outside together in the light of a streetlamp.  The cool night air dwindles what remains of his adrenaline, though his heart picks up when you step closer, when you press your face to his neck and sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You did nothing wrong,” he says, cupping your cheek and lifting your face.  His thumb strokes your cheek, down along your jaw.  He looks into your eyes and smiles.  “You were just standing there.  He shouldn’t have grabbed you.  You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you say.  You look down and his hand falls away from your face.  You fiddle with the zipper of his jacket then drag it down a couple inches.  “I’m just really sorry.” 

He is silent for a moment, his back a little stiffer.  You think he catches the tone in your voice because his hand drifts a little lower, resting on the base of your spine.

“I see,” he says, voice lower.  “Even though Jeongin did all the work hitting that stool—?”

The unexpected joke in a sultry exchange makes you snort with laughter.  The sound surprises Felix who laughs so hard he almost falls over.  You give him a little shove, shaking your head. 

“All right, all right,” he says, patting your back.  “Behave.  The car is coming.” 

“I always behave,” you say with a swish of your coat, stomping ahead of him to the approaching sedan.    

You sit in silence for part of the journey, quiet even with the partition up.  Felix has an elbow resting on the window sill, temple pressed to his fist as he stares at the passing streetlights. 

“Are you mad?” you ask in your coldest tone. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, dimple flashing with an aborted smile.  “I’m never mad,” he says.  “I’m a professional.” 

“Right,” you say.  You slide across the seat to be closer to him but he puts up his hand, stopping you.

“I know it’s a limo, but seatbelt, yeah?” he says.  You do not miss the patronizing tone. 

“You gonna make me?” you ask.  You grab his hand and lower it, looking at him with your smokiest gaze.

His tongue jabs into his cheek as he looks at your hands, palms touching, fingers lacing.  He appears contemplative, beyond your little game.  You give his hand a gentle squeeze.   His eyes meet yours. 

“I never want to hurt you,” he says, low even though no one can hear you back here.  “You know that, yeah?  You know I—  I never knew how to want or not want something.  I would never—”

“I know, Felix,” you say. 

I love you too. 

It sits on the tip of your tongue.  You very nearly say it in that same low voice. 

He lowers your hand to your lap, his palm to your knuckles as he cups your thigh and squeezes.  Once, twice, three times.  He taps on your knee three times then guides you to do the same.  You are a bit bemused until he says, “If you want to talk to me, then…”  Three more touches. 

“I see,” you say, hot beneath the skin of your cheeks and throat, your heart a thunderous thing.  “You expect to shut my mouth then?”  You blink at him too cutely. 

“I expect you to apologize properly,” he says. 

He catches your face before you can spit a rejoinder.  It steals your breath.  He holds your face steady in his hand, jaw pinched, mouth shut, his eyes burning into the side of your face. 

“You answer to me,” he says sternly.  “You think you’re sorry, yeah?  Then you’re going to apologize.  Properly.  Quietly.  Obediently.  Now nod for me.  You understand.”  

You do not nod.  You look at him out of the corner of your eye.  His lips break into a smile. 

“Ah,” he says.  “I see.”

And he does.  He has always seen to the depths of you.  Just as you have always seen beneath his surface smiles. 

The driver sees nothing but a professional on payroll, exchanging an evening pleasantry before Felix escorts you into the apartment building.  The greeter nods at you, you nod back.  Felix marches you into the elevator and stands politely at your side, hands in his pockets. 

You lean on opposite walls of the elevator.  He takes off the beanie and tucks it in his pocket.  Then he runs his fingers through his hair, fluffing the fair strands.  Eventually he meets your gaze.  You stare at each other, a silent exchange of thought and anticipation. 

In the apartment, he does his security check.  You take your time drifting toward the bedroom, wiping off your lipstick, dropping your coat in the middle of the doorway.  He scoops it up as he enters behind you, tutting while he brushes it off. 

“No respect,” he says but lightly, teasingly. 

He walks right past you and drapes the coat neatly over the back of your computer chair.  There, he stands with his back to you, unzipping and discarding his own jacket.  It leaves him in a black t-shirt and his ripped black jeans, plus those heavy regulation army boots.  He is a sharp streak of black shadow, all at odds with his light hair and sweet freckled face as he turns to look at you. 

You stand across the bedroom from each other.  Your heart is going a mile a minute as he looks you over.  You hardly know why the roving glance affects you so deeply.  He has seen you in a hundred variations of dressed and undressed.  Checking you out in your jeans and t-shirt should hardly warrant a herd of butterflies in your belly. 

But it does.  Your skin feels alight as he looks at you, assessing you like a target.  When his dark eyes flick up to meet yours, he is not smiling.  He exhales.  His shoulders are tense, his body hard.

“Take off your clothes,” he says. 

You expected some deviance from routine given your flirtations, but that is still quite different.  You often undress each other, or you provoke him by stripping, flustering him into surrender.  He is not flustered now, his stare cold and ungiving as he waits expectantly for you to obey. 

Your fingers flutter at your side.  Your lips part with a breath. 

“Um,” you say, voice rough with arousal in a way you cannot hide.  It is hard to fake an affronted feeling, though it is not hard to look nervous.   “Excuse me?” 

“Everything,” Felix says.  “Off.  Now.” 

You scoff, suffusing the worst of your jitters into the sound.  You feign a cocky tilt of your head, hands on your hips as you say, “I don’t think you’re in position to give me orders.  If my daddy knew—”

He lifts his knee only infinitesimally but when his foot slams down there is a knife in his hand. 

He flicks some hair out of his hair and smiles, perky, just like Felix. 

“Off,” he says.  “Or I take it off.” 

What should be a flicker of fear is a font of pure desire, sharp in your belly and hot between your legs.  You look at the knife then his cool smile, the crinkle of pleasure in the corners of his eyes, the pretty fall of his hair.  He flips the knife over his knuckles, around and around, smoothly, thoughtlessly. 

You step out of your shoes and kick them aside.  Your jitters are back, excited and jumpy, prickling under your skin as you lift your shirt over your head and toss that aside too. 

“Neatly,” he says, with a tsk, tsk tsk.  “Don’t make a mess.  Daddy wouldn’t like that, would he?” 

“Bastard,” you say, flushed with the admonition.  It also makes you a little giddy.  There is real power and real evil out there, and it is utterly meaningless in the face of everything between you and Felix.  It is a punchline.  It is an inside joke.  The only thing that holds any real power is his gaze, his voice, his hands.

Your eyes, your sigh, your obedience.  It makes him blush, despite his relative position of power, watching you neatly fold your shirt and place it on the bedside table.  You remove your jeans and fold those too. 

When you look at him, he points the knife to your underclothes, a mute statement: yes, I mean those too.  So you take off your bra and place it on the table, flushed and hasty and embarrassed and excited.  You slip off your panties and crumple them.  You miss the table and they fall to the floor, and Felix points to it with the knife. 

“Pick it up,” he says. 

You do, quickly, putting it on the pile then stepping away.  You cross your arms, only a little chilled, mostly hot under his gaze. 

“Good,” he says.  “Very good.” 

With a flick of his wrist, the knife is swiftly embedded in your desk behind him.  He does not even look back. 

You jump.  It makes your heart beat even faster, stomach tied up in anticipatory knots, desperate to unravel as he approaches you with a slow, predatory stroll. 

He circles you.  His fingertips brush your side, sending a shiver shooting up your spine.   He takes a pillow off the bed and puts it on the floor. 

You stand with your back to him, arms still crossed.  He touches the middle of your back, walks his fingers gently up your spine until he is holding the back of your neck, pulling you into him, your naked body against his clothed one. 

“Get on your knees,” he says.  You swear his voice is even deeper than usual.  “Sweetheart.”    

You cannot think of a snarky reply, not even when he steps back and you can breathe again.  You just look at him over your shoulder and make a show of rolling your eyes.  He tips his head, regarding you as if oh-so confused by your petulance. 

He stands while you kneel.  You sit back on your heels and hum to yourself as if bored. 

He ignores that, pointing to bed and saying, “Face there, not me.” 

You look at him with genuine confusion, once more surprised by his direction, but you do as told.  You kneel facing the bed.  He gets down on one knee beside you, cups the back of your head and guides you up, off your heels. 

“Up, up, up,” he says in too jovial of a tone, so frustratingly Felix.  “Hands up here.”  He pats the bed with his other hand until you uncross your arms and place them where directed.  “That’s it,” he says.  “Just like that, sweetheart.” 

He stands, leaving you kneeling at the bedside, upright, arms in front of you.  Kneeling like a penitent in prayer at their bedside.  You look over your shoulder at him, wearing your best and bitchiest expression. There is an irrevocable challenge in your eyes. 

Clink.

Your eyes drop to his belt, to the swift flick of leather and metal over his hands as he opens it.  He is unhurried, sliding it free of its loops. 

But then he does not discard it.  He folds it over his hand.  Once, twice, three times. 

He tips his head.  He holds up three fingers, a question.  

He knows the significance here.  He knows how your insides unravel at the sight of that belt hooked around his fist.  

You know he would stop if you said so.  If you said the word three, if you held up three fingers, if you tapped three times or did anything else to speak to him.  He has given you a voice in every form.  

He is standing over you, at once a personification of your pains and fears, and also he is none of them.   This does not feel the way it did back then, unwilling and tortured and harmed. 

He loves you.  And he is trapped with you, and he is carving out holes in the world with you.  He is handing you back your life, if only pieces, however he can.   You are not a scared little girl under him.  You are in control of that pendulum of emotion.  There is no power in the things that once scared you.  It is a punchline.  An inside joke.  

You smile at him. 

He gets down on one knee again, squeezes the nape of your neck then runs his hand down your spine.  Your back arches under his touch, breath staggering into gasps even though all he does is caress you skin. 

You jump when he smacks the soft curve of your ass, just the flat of his palm on your skin, but already you are tingling head to toe with pleasure. 

“I am responsible for you, yeah?” he says, and smacks you there again.  “That means you are mine.  You don’t run off, you don’t play games.  You do what I say.”

“Or what?” you say, voice already breathy.  “You’ll beat me up like you did that brute in the bar?”

You can hear him adjusting the belt, flipping it around his hand for a better grip. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks.  “Does it get your pussy wet, watching me hurt them for you?”

You don’t get a chance to answer.  Your voice is a feathery-light sound, piercing a gasp when he brings that strip of leather down against your backside. 

You squirm.  You are already so, so wet. 

“Hmm?” he asks, and does it again, a stinging, hot line across your skin.  “Is that how it is?” 

“I hate you,” you say.  You are gripping the blanket, nails digging in.  Your back arches at another strike, chest pushing into the bedding. 

“Awww…” he says, careless.  “Yeah… I know.” 

You must be wriggling too much because Felix pins you down with his free hand, your cheek pressed to the blanket.  He adjusts his position for a better reach. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, and snaps the belt across your skin.  This one makes you cry out.  “I know exactly how you feel about me.” 

You cry turns to a watery whine, shaking when he gently sweeps his fingertips across your smarting backside.  Your breath snags when he leans in close, breath ghosting your skin. 

“I know,” he says.  “Because it gets my dick hard.  Oh?  What’s that?  Did that scare you?”  He hits you again.  “You wanna tell your daddy?  Tell him how you’re all wet because your mean bodyguard got a little too, mmm, rough with you?” 

He kisses the middle of your back and you shiver. 

“Mmm,” he says.  “No.  You’re not going to do that, are you?  You’re going to stay right… here…” He leans back and snaps his wrist again, patting you when the belt sears your skin and you cry out again.  “That’s it.  You’re gonna take it until you apologize—”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even while tilting your hips, seeking more from him.  You can feel how wet you are when you squish your thighs together, hot and slick between them.  “I really am.”

“Oh?” he says.  “For what?”

“Uhhh—”  It turns to another yelp when he hits you again.  “F-for disobeying y-you.” 

“Why is that bad, sweetheart?”

“B-because—”  You don’t even cry out when he does it again.  This sound is a pure moan, roughly exhaled into the bed.  “Because you’re in charge,” you say breathlessly, voice on the cusp of a sob.  You can feel your knees starting to shake.  “Y-you’re in charge of me.” 

“Am I?” 

You hear the belt unravel, the clink of the metal as it hits the floor.  He touches you with his bare hand, smoothing his palm over your warm, smarting skin.  Every inch of you quivers with the tingling aftershock of the soft touch. 

“Yes,” you say.  “I’m—I’m yours, Felix.” 

There is a moment of quiet when all he does it touch you, gently, a caress across your stinging skin.  Your whole body reacts to him, the slightest brush sending floods of heat shooting through you. 

He traces a circle on your backside, pinches the warm skin.  It makes that sob spill over your lips. 

“Say it again,” he says, his voice lower, only just above a whisper. 

“I’m yours,” you say just as softly.  A tear spills onto the blanket. 

“My name.”

“Felix,” you say.  “My bodyguard.” 

“Yes,” he says, still in that soft voice.  He slips his hand down between your legs and you rear up, spreading your thighs, eager to feel him.  “I am, aren’t I?”  He hardly needs to touch you to feel how wet you are.  Just a surface touch wets his fingers with your desire, a slow stroke that makes your knees shake again.   “I’m good at it, aren’t I?” he says, and takes his hand back.  “At guarding this body.  Hmm?”

Another tear spills out.  You nod, breathing hard into the blanket. 

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat. 

He stands up and you lift your head, blinking up at him with big, wet eyes.  You can see how hard he is, obscenely bulging behind his fly.  It makes your mouth water, makes you press your cheek into the blanket as you stare at him wantingly.  

“If I’m not going to hit you,” he says, “then what am I going to do with you?” 

His thumb presses at his zipper and he smiles, dimpled and cheeky, and slowly tugs it down.  Your knees finally surrender and you sit again, slumped against the bed and reaching between your legs. 

“Uh-uh-uh—” he says, diving down to catch your arm. 

You groan, wriggling while he scoops you up and deposits you on the bed as easily as tossing a pillow.   You shuffle around, making some pitiful blubbery noises as you lay on your sore backside.  You rest your head on a pillow, breathing hard, so aware of your body in a way you have never felt before. 

Felix takes off his boots while you settle yourself.  Then he gets on the bed and kneels at your feet, a vision of sin in his black clothes with his flushed face and heady, dark eyes.  He wets his lips, leaves his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he looks at you like a meal offered to a starving man. 

“Hold the headboard, sweetheart,” he says, nodding above you. 

You do not look away from him, reaching back to grip one of the bars in the headboard.  Though your legs are pressed together, you feel the exposure of the vulnerable position, throbbing everywhere he looks at you.    

Your breath gets ragged when he moves closer.  He takes a pillow, ripping it out of its case and tossing the cushion aside.  He flips the soft material of the pillowcase around his fist until it makes a long line like a soft rope. 

Then your hands are bound to the headboard.  His fingers curl around yours, showing you how to tap, how to talk to him.  It registers, even if he immediately distracts you with a wandering hand, slipping down your body to touch and fondle. 

Then he is back at your feet, grabbing your ankles and sliding up, up, up until his hands are hooked under your knees and he can spread you open to him. 

Your hips buck, your back arches, legs shaking in his steady hold.  You are so open to him that it makes you whimper and close your eyes. 

They open again when you feel his mouth between your legs, his teasing abruptly finished as he dives in with full commitment.  You cry out in relief, with utter ecstasy, noisier than you have ever been as he licks and sucks and strokes.  You twitch when he nips at your thighs, when he slips his tongue inside you, when he licks back up then tortures the source of your pent-up need, again and again until you are crying out and coming hard on his tongue. 

He lets you finish, takes over that peak and beyond.  He lowers your trembling legs, lets you wrap them around his hips.  You make a horrible mess of his pants, you are sure, grinding up against the hard material. 

“Shhh, shh, shh,” he says, reaching past you to the bedside table. 

You hardly have a second to look before he is shoving your balled up panties in your mouth. 

“That’s it,” he says, kissing down your neck.  “That’s a good girl.  Don’t need to think, yeah?” 

He sits back on his heels and finally unzips all the way.  He shuffles his pants and boxers down past his hips.  He smiles, then pushes your legs against you so are nearly folded in half. 

“Just—” he says with a soft grunt, pushing at the soft, wet heat of you, so easily sliding inside.  “Just—need—to—take it.”

And you do, moaning helplessly into your gag, still sore from your earlier punishment but all that sensation mingling with everything hard and sweet and good between your thighs.  Your eyes close and you let yourself float, feeling as he hits all those soft places inside you that make your body keen.  When you come again, it is just from that, and a stream of euphoric tears follow as you wrap him between your legs and bring him over the edge with you. 

“God,” he says, dropping every trace of his persona, sounding near tears himself as he comes inside you.  “God—fucking—You.  Oh, sweetheart.  Jesus.  I—” 

His brain sounds as mushy as yours, maybe only marginally smarter because he takes out your gag and releases you from your bondage. 

Your arms fall limp around your head and you hum sweetly, literal music moving through you as your whole body aches with pleasant aftershocks. 

“We gotta clean you up,” he says softly, from somewhere, stroking your sweaty skin. “And I wanna take care of where I used the—”

“Felix,” you murmur, “if you don’t get over here and kiss me stupid, then I’m gonna take a turn with the belt.”

He laughs, then you feel him stretched out beside you, his arms circling you.  You roll into his embrace, throwing your leg around his hip and snuggling into him. 

“You still hate me, yeah?” he says after a moment, though how he expects any coherency when he is massaging down your arm like that, you do not know. 

But you nod, kissing his chest.

“Of course, you’re my bodyguard,” you say. 

You sigh when he smooths his hand over your backside, tenderly caressing the sore skin. 

“Yes,” he says.  “Always.”

-

It sounds almost ridiculous to say, but he honestly fucked you so good that you feel like a new woman. 

You have a little skip in your step – or maybe it’s a limp – for the next couple days, and it’s cute how it flusters him in the daylight because he knows the cause. 

In the mood for a full cleansing, you get the idea to clean out your closet.  You toss things around left and right, sorting donations and garbage and pieces you forgot you owned. 

You are elbow deep in a pile of old sweaters when your fingers curl around something soft.  You yank it out of the pile, hidden away at the very back of your closet.  You wonder what it is and why you have not been wearing it when it is so soft—

Peppy music is blaring out of your speakers, your disposition cheery and pleasant as can be.  It all gets a little fuzzy when you unfold the sweater and realize it is Jisung’s hoodie, the one he gave you that last night you left his house. 

You and Felix are meeting Jeongin and Seungmin after class today, a usual coffee at your usual café while you do the finishing touches on your semester project.  Having friends and a lover and a future you can almost see, can almost imagine controlling if only in your own special way, makes you realize how far you have come. 

Things have changed.  You have changed.  You have forgotten a lot about high school.  You don’t really remember faces, or the things that had you stressed, or half the arguments with your father.  You were obsessed with Lee Minho for years but, frankly, you can hardly remember what he looked like.

But you touch the hoodie and you can feel your best friend, solid as if he was still sitting beside you.  When you lift it to your chest, you swear you can faintly smell the lingering trace of him, that boyish body spray that was probably baked into everything he owned but that you stopped noticing because you were around him so much. 

It is the smell that overwhelms you.  In a matter of moments, your face is buried in the hoodie and you are crying, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re happy or because you’re not. 

Felix comes running, stumbling to a stop in your closet door and looking at you with alarm. 

“Sweetheart?” he says, crouching down beside you.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know what to say.  You lift your head and look at him, face streaked with tears.  He wipes them immediately, a gentle back and forth, soothing you until your crying is just a mere hiccup.  “I’m sorry,” you say, wiping your face on your sleeve.  “I don’t know why I still get so worked up.” 

“About what?” Felix asks. 

You open the hoodie and recognition lights up in his eyes. 

“Jisung,” he says. 

“You recognize it?” you say, a bit surprised. 

“Uh, yeah,” he says, and looks at you with a dimpled grin.  “You were wearing this the first night we—”

“Right,” you say with a watery giggle. 

You look back down and sniffle some more, blinking back another onslaught of tears.  You run your hand over the material while Felix rubs a soothing circle on your back. 

“Why is it so hard to let go?” you ask softly.  “When I have people here, now...  When I have a future and…”  You trail off, voice breaking.  You wipe your face again. 

“I don’t know,” Felix says, sounding as morose.  His gaze wanders.  You can see his own mental space shift as he goes somewhere far away.  “I guess…”  He rubs the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.  “One person can’t, uh, really replace another, I guess.  And he was your friend.  It’s different.”  He swallows.  “You can’t just let go of love.  Not… not easily.”

“I guess not,” you say.  You trace a circle on the material with your thumb.  You sigh.  “I should get ready for school.” 

“Yeah,” Felix says, voice breaking too.  He clears his throat and stands.  “Do you need anything?”

You shake your head, hugging the hoodie to your chest and staring straight ahead. 

“No,” you say softly.  “Thank you, Felix.” 

You are a little too distracted with your own thoughts and grief to notice his own solemn disposition.  He does not hold it against you, though, as you are distracted for the rest of the day.  The cause is reasonable enough. 

You are sitting in the library with Felix and your friends, working on your project but distracted, when you lift your head and spot the library computers. 

You have not looked for Jisung anywhere, not online or in person, far too terrified your father would find out and track him down and kill him.  You remember his rage.  You know how serious he was. 

But that seems far away now, not the same nightmarish terror that haunted your every shaking step.  Now you are staring at the campus computers with a more calculating air.  You realize there is no way to trace any searches back to you if they are made on a public server.  

Felix looks up when you stand, shooting you a questioning look.  You just point to the computers and he nods, slouching back in his seat again. 

You feel a little queasy, maybe from the tumultuous feelings of the day.  Maybe plain worry.  Until now, you could pretend Jisung was fine, but what if he isn’t?  God, what if your father went after him anyway?  What if something else happened?  What if he got worse after you left him on that hospital bed?  You are sick with the thought. 

The world needs him.  You need him.  Even far away, even without seeing or touching him, because your friendship does not require that.  It can be words on a page, tucked away in a yearbook that you read on your worst days when you need a reason to keep fighting. 

And so you search.  You find results faster than you thought.  It turns out Jisung has been writing music.  He is very underground and indie, it seems.  He does not have a huge collection of followers, but his artistry has stirred interest nonetheless.  You find his social media profiles without much struggle, as well as his soundcloud and professional profiles.  It looks like he works part time at a grocery store while making music.

You click through his profiles, smiling at some of his goofy pictures and videos.  There are some click-bait short videos with dramatic fonts slashed over his face, saying things like GIRLFRIEND DRAMA!! and GAY RIVALS??

You click on a couple.  It’s just videos where he talks to the camera, but he’s so funny that it feels like miniature stand-up routines. Some of these videos get more views than his music.

It looks like he had a girlfriend for a while, then a boyfriend, which is probably not too surprising when you remember he was obsessed with Hyunjin. 

He says exactly that in his video, laughing as he runs his hands through his hair, black-painted nails stark against the lighter dyed locks.

“Yeah…” he says, laughing awkwardly, “Turns out most people don’t have an arch-nemesis that occupies their every thought in their horny teenage years.  Who knew, right?” 

The comment sections are all a bit chaotic, as comment sections are often a no-man’s land of anarchy, but it feeds the algorithm so he lets the public run amok.  It does not seem to ruffle his feathers.

You scroll until you see a video with the words BEST FRIEND?  It is the only video where he turned the comments off. 

You are not sure what you are expecting.  It has been years.  This video could be about anyone.  He has more friends, quite a lot by the look of it. 

His video starts with that very message.

“I know it’s hard to believe since I am, like, so insanely beautiful and funny and popular and talented now,” he says with a goofy drawl, grinning at the camera, “but I used to be like… the loser.  Not even a loser, no way, man, I’m an overachiever.  I mean the loser.  I did not have any friends but, like, I didn’t even have any enemies either, like what’s a guy got to do to get bullied around here?  I was just, you know, kinda invisible I guess… Hard to believe I developed issues and became an online clout-chaser like whoo-hoo…”

You shake your head, smiling in spite of yourself.  The Jisung on camera is wearing glasses, his hair longer than you remember.  His shoulders are broader and he looks good, healthy. 

He rubs his shoulder as he gazes past the camera, looking wistful. 

“I had one friend, though, eventually,” he says.  “I used to think she was kinda scary but, also, to be fair, I thought everything was scary back then haha…  I mean, not haha, you know I was… It was rough. I was like ready to end it all, man…  Times were hard!  Teenage angst, you know, nothing like it!  But she, uh…” 

He looks at the camera and it makes your spine straighten.  This was posted a year ago.  He is not actually talking to you, but for a moment he feels present. 

“She was really good at seeing people,” he says.  “I think, maybe, that’s because she wanted for someone to see her too.  But, like, that’s hard to ask for… And even harder to accept when you finally have it.  She would run away just as fast as she would want attention, haha.  But at the same time… You know, she got it.  She got me. We got each other.  Until then, neither of us had ever really—you know, we didn’t really have good families and stuff, we didn’t have friends.  I talk about firsts a lot, and, you know, every one makes a deal out of their first kiss and their first lay and stuff but like…  Your first friend...”

You pause the video for a second, blinking so you don’t cry in the library.  You briefly glance at Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin.  Jeongin has predictably strayed from his studies, showing Felix something on his hand console.  Seungmin throws a pencil at them. 

You smile then look back at the screen, hitting play. 

“It changes you, you know?” Jisung says.  “Especially at that age, you know, when you’re growing and stuff… You kinda learn from each other.  Even though we super different, in some ways we were the same, and I think I still… um, carry her with me.  It sounds cheesy but it’s true. I was a stupid softy but her…!  She never took anyone’s shit!  And I got better at that, and I think it was because of her.  We, um, we didn’t exactly have a falling out—  Life just—  Sometimes life isn’t fair.  And she was… she was kinda in a bad spot.  And at the time I felt like I let her down, because I couldn’t get her out.  Of course, now I’m like, yo, we were both kids, haha, how the fuck was I gonna do that anyway… And before we said goodbye, you know, she told me I did save her, and I didn’t really know what she meant at the time.  But when I realized how much of her was still with me all the time, every day, how much she taught me to get me where I am today… I got it.  I still wish I could have done more, but I get it.  And I mean, um, hey, if you’re out there—”

You are startled into greater attention when he looks directly in the eye of the camera.  You realize he is speaking to you, across space and time, as surely as a scribble in your yearbook or a laugh in your memory. 

“I don’t know if you’ll ever see this,” he says.  “But I, uh, I told you once a best friend promise is forever.  Ten years, twenty years, fifty years, you know… hit me up.  But, um, even if you don’t… even if you can’t…” 

He takes a breath and shakes his shoulders, wiggling like he would do when he was trying not to cry.  He exhales and smiles.  You can see all the emotion behind that smile, grief and hope alike. 

“I just hope you’re happy,” he says.  “I am.  And that’s partly because of you.  So if you ever need a reason, or an excuse, or whatever to be happy… This is it.  Thank you for… for everything I guess.  I loved you so much that it made me love the whole world just because you were in it.  So I don’t need anything else from you, but if you could be happy for me… Yeah.  That, uh, that would be good.” 

He pauses, purses his lips, then he laughs a very watery laugh. 

“Okay!” he says.  “I’m gonna go cry now like a big baby.  Love you all! Bye!  See you next time.  Oh yeah, stream Volcano!  Bye!”

You end up laughing through your tears, Jisung being so incredibly Jisung.  You glance back at Felix and your friends, watching them try to keep their laughter down as they snicker over something in Jeongin’s game.  Seungmin has his big puppy grin on and Jeongin’s dimple are so deep as glee pours off him.

Felix looks so delighted and carefree, his whole face glowing like it was touched by a drop of sunshine. 

You want this. 

Now.  Always. 

Oh, Jisung, you think to yourself.  How many times are you going to save me?

You open a new window and make a profile on the website.  Fortunately, Jisung allows private messages from accounts he does not follow.  You just hope he clicks on the message despite the blank profile.  You cannot have anything public that would give you away in any capacity. 

But you open the private message and you write, and you hope it reaches him, even after you have closed the window and walked away, head high with your purpose and a newfound determination to fulfill his only wish for you.

-

To the bestest most awesome boy in the world, from the bestest most awesome girl in the world.

I think I have that whole note memorized by now.  I don’t know you even remember these words, but it was how you started your message in my yearbook. 

I know it’s been a long time but I wanted to reach out.  My situation hasn’t really changed, so it’s still not safe to see you properly, which is why I’m messaging this way.  I’m sorry for that.  But I saw your video where you said you were happy, and I just wanted to say how glad I am.  You deserve the world, Jisungie.  I hope you know how much it loves you back.  How much I love you back. 

I have friends and even a boyfriend now.  I don’t think I would have any of it if not for you.  I think I am starting to be happy, but truth be told I don’t really know what that is supposed to feel or look like.  But I think I am starting to understand.  I think I know what I have to do. 

I’m going to get out.  I am going to get my love out too.  I have been waiting and wallowing, but I’m not going to do that anymore.  I want to be happy, whatever that looks like. 

Thank you for saving me when you did.  Now it’s time for me to save myself. 

You also gave me the world and I love it a little more everyday.  I hope someday soon I can see more of it.  If I’m lucky, maybe I will see you too, but even if we never meet face-to-face again, know I carry you with me too.  A best friend promise is a forever promise, right? 

Take care, Jisung.  Keep fighting.  Be happy. 

Love,

Your best friend. 

Now and always.

♡