#anyway children will keep you humble

[arschbiene]

did rome ever see germania with his kids?

[dadsbongos]

a king, his advisor, and the betrothed

@toxycodone the fic is here fren

11 K words / warnings - reader has vag n wears a dress once, threesome WOAH, p in v + p in a sex, oral (m receiving), kabru is a fan of inappropriate workplace relationships

summary - Laios cannot find a suitor on his own, so Kabru is forced to summon an old... friend... for help.

~~~

“Just… someone you would like, then.”

“Someone I would like?”

“Yeah! If you like them, they must be good, right?”

“This isn’t about… ugh, fine.”

Kabru already knew exactly who to set up with Laios, but he wanted to grant himself a few more hours of delusion by drafting a list of desired traits.

.

.

.

A queen should be: diligent and humble, wise and patient. Honest.

Ideally, a short-lived king should marry from another short-lived race. Any children will therefore be short-lived as well, which Kabru considers highly preferable. Another tallman is his best option to keep infertility sparse.

Laios’ personality will need to be accounted for as well (Kabru finds that the longer he dawdles, the more fun he has hypothesizing Laios’ perfect match).

Laios, specifically, needs someone blunt and unencumbered by conformity -- the man seems to thrive when others feel comfortable speaking frankly with him. Someone from another royal court will not do, and especially not someone descended from direct nobel blood. Furthermore, Laios is clueless as to what his own title ensues, so he does little more for his countrymen than make appearances or pass budgets and bills. So for Kabru’s own sanity, someone intelligent and inclined to make Laios do his actual job is also preferred.

They must balance indulgence and sobriety for the man’s antics, as well as willingness to sit through Laios’ obscure personality.

Wait…

“No,” Kabru scratches that last half of his sentence, ink bleeding across the page, “What kind of matchmaker settles?”

They must like Laios, and Laios must like them. Laios is not a man Kabru can envision enduring loveless marriage, it’d be too awkward and the dolt would have it annulled.

Someone not petrified by monsters and intrigued by Laios’ strange personality, but also not so deranged as to be exactly like Laios.

Again, a single name comes to Kabru’s mind, but this time he does not put it off. He’s had his fun scheming, now he must draft a letter to the Northern Continent. To a village chief’s firstborn -- acquainted well enough with basic politics while also sharing a similar upbringing with Laios.

You’re perfect.

You’re also…

“An ex-party member?” Laios’ eyes skim over the contents of Kabru’s summoning letter, addressed at the top to you, “Cool.”

“Yeah, an ex-party member,” Kabru sighs to himself, imagining Rin beating him over the head with her staff right about now, “I think you should know, I briefly- ”

“Kabru,” Laios shakes his head, grinning, “I don’t care. If you trust them, I do.”

Briefly -- sure -- if an entire year and some months was brief. Kabru sighs louder and decides to let Laios find out on his own, since the king is so determined to look cool and easygoing.

In any case, you’ll be fond of Laios, Kabru’s certain.

Certain, and also dreading.

Year 512

“Where’d you find the space case anyway?”

“You sound upset.”

“Look!” Rin flings a gloved arm straight out, gesturing heatedly towards where the party’s newest member is staring straight at the first floor’s cracked ceiling.

Both hands squeezing the straps of your pack, you leave your throat completely exposed in order to gaze at a dark, faraway roof. The ease with which Kabru could slit your tender neck is comical, he finds it more concerning than charming. Any hoodlum or hooligan could rob and beat you blind and you’d be incapable of a proper defense.

“Let me handle it,” Kabru hopes to placate Rin with a soft grin, its success is limited because Rin’s known him long enough to push through his gushy exterior. She puts up no fight, thankfully, and let him approach you alone, “Hey!”

“Shh!” you hiss cutting your fingers along your jaw to silence him. His shock and horror at your rudeness must be visible because you wave that same hand around and smile, “Sorry. It’s just…”

Pointing up, your stare returns to the ceiling. Eyes wide and lips curled with glee. Kabru heeds and grimaces: glistening slimes the shade of clovers goop between gaping slashes in the ceiling. Pulsating and shivering as one beating organ, Kabru can’t think up a more disgusting sight.

“Slimes are sensitive to the heat we exhale, so the louder you are the easier they can find you.”

Blinking at you as inconspicuous as possible, Kabru asks, “Why stand right under them then?”

“They’re so weird. They don’t look intelligent, but they move around easily and developed such a scary way to trap prey. Pretty neat.”

Kabru has half a mind to cut you out of the party just for saying that, until you tack on a,

“Still super gross, though. We should move before they notice us.”

Kabru nods, watching you cross towards the rest of the party before following with a silent prayer that you’re not actually a monster fanatic.

His prayers are answered on the second floor -- your party is down, Holm and Daya crumpled over on opposite sides of the tree den. Kuro is strewn over a shaking, teary Mickbell with a bloody gash in his back. Rin has a similar slash, only deep in her gut and Kabru can tell she’s bleeding out fast.

While he prides himself on his wit and light thinking, Kabru is horrified by the sight of his party in agony. Planning so far ahead of himself he’s trying to scheme how to charm a passing healer into aiding Rin or reviving Holm, meanwhile he can’t even be certain he’s going to survive this attack. His own life is on the back on his mind, body stiff in preparation to swing his sword and cut off the chicken head of a charging Basilisk.

But how should he cut? It has to have a carotid artery, or a heart, but where? What if his strike is at a wrong angle and the snake side gobbles you all up.

Suddenly, the glint of your sword blinds him -- you snip the snake in half, exploiting the monster’s following stagger to round its body and stab through the Basilisk’s head. Tearing outward and splattering Kabru in blood as the beast drops.

He looks to you in silence, knees sore and wobbly and hands a shaking wreck.

Simply, you say, “The snake head is the real head, so if you attack that end first the chicken tail is distracted and easy to sneak up on,” then, you notice his trembling, “Oh, sorry…”

As if waiting for permission, Kabru’s body gives out once your hands find his shoulders. You smooth a palm over his back while shredding the loose material of your blouse to mop up the mess. Gently soaking Basilisk blood from his face with a frown marring your face, continuously murmuring apologies.

Kabru takes your wrist in his hand, blinking back his shock to sigh, “Thank you.”

Suspecting there’s more words jumbled on his tongue, you patiently wait that way: knelt beside Kabru as he squeezes your wrist.

“I think we should go back to the surface.”

You nod quickly. Much quicker than he’d assume you would given how directly you dealt with the terrifying Basilisk, “Do you want me to head back and get corpse retrievers? I doubt we could carry everyone up by ourselves.”

He takes note of how you specifically exclude Mickbell, presumably due to the young man’s hysterics.

The sharp tang of raw iron is filling Kabru’s nose, he chokes on it. He can’t stand to smell it a second more.

“No,” but inhaling through his mouth makes him taste it, rotting each bud on his tongue, “No. I’m the party leader, I should get them.”

Your eyes are lidding, no shock or awe found in the twinkle of your iris -- you were expecting this response.

“Sure, Kabru, I’ll wait with Mickbell.”

You don’t call him out on it, though.

Once the party has been revived and Kabru’s thrown the men their coins, you suggest the crew return a floor above.

“I’m sure nobody wants to eat where they died, so let’s have lunch up there and save instead of visiting a stall,” you gasp quietly and cover your mouth, then deferring to Kabru, “If that sounds good to you? Sorry… I shouldn’t have spoken so boldly like that…”

“No, you’re right,” even though he’s not looking to confirm, Kabru can feel Rin burning holes into his skull with her glare, “I think that’s a good idea.”

Secretly he’s glad no outsiders heard you make that call -- he isn’t ashamed to be bossed around by someone in a blouse, but he’s also not unrealistic. Others seeing that could threaten his meager status among the adventuring community. He’d be the wimp pushed around by his own members.

Interrupting his spiral, again, is you, “Okay, let’s get going then!” you clamp another hand over your mouth, “Right, Kabru?”

“Right.”

Thankfully, it is just your party who only finds your zealousness comedic rather than an opportunity for mutiny.

Returning visit to the first floor proves you about as useful as the initial one did.

Holm and Daya are unpacking rations with Mickbell and Kuro straggling at the edge of the blondes’ conversation. Rin is fetching water. Kabru is watching you; and he knows he should be either helping Rin, or lecturing you to help Rin, but he keeps watching.

He cannot hear you, but he knows you’re speaking -- crouched to make eye contact with a pair of slight humans. Round cheeks and marblesque eyes tell Kabru they’re just scratching at maturity. Not even thirteen.

The shorter one, a boy with freckles, picks at tender plumes of skin around his nails, knees shaking. He finds no voice, but the girl beside him does. She squeezes the shirt over her heart and her brows furrowed with passion, he can barely make out the words: mage, fourth, corpse retrievers.

One of your hands is perched on your bent knees while the other grazes along the forsaken graveyard, your head tilts and if he really forces his ears then Kabru can hear you ask, “How did you get separated?”

The girl’s shoulders go lax, lip twitching down as she sputters a reply. The boy’s picking grows frantic, his head shaking and voice shivery (this time Kabru can pick up: without her, no chance).

Kabru’s gaze hones on you, dissecting each twinge in your face as you process the information. Daya and Holm’s voices become vague, like buzzing insects, even Rin’s agitated staring from the fountain is pushed out of focus. How will you react to these children?

It's a horrible story, he’s sure. He’s so sure it’s a truly heartbreaking tale about two little ones separated from their ward on a lower level due to a snap decision from fear. However, it could also be just that: a story.

Criminals banned from The Island’s coasts often seek refuge in the bowels of the dungeon. Kabru feels confident that as this dungeon continues to fester unconquered: criminals are beginning to raise their children here.

If you blindly follow them down, you’re a fool. If you hand over all your party’s gold, you’re a fool. If you do nothing, you’re heartless. Heartlessness can be worse than foolishness, at least fools have good intentions.

Fingers wrap around the stem of a limping flower and pull, cutting it clean from the floor and holding the plant for both children. You push your hand closer to the kids, waiting until the girl grasps the flower before speaking again,

Something long winded, and judging by the shudders racketing down the boy’s frail body something rather dismal too. Yet you’re beaming up at the children, then they’re smiling as well. Rising to your feet, you brush moss stains from your knees and wave the children off with a promise Kabru can actually hear,

“If my party finds any retrievers, we’ll send them down.”

With eager nods, the kids sniffle and affirm their bravery to you -- the girl cradling the plucked daisy to her chest. You return to your party’s camp and boldly declare,

“I think we should try reaching the fourth floor soon.”

Rin bonks you with an elbow to the side, “Where’s this enthusiasm when I needed help carrying the water?”

Rubbing the tenderized area, you laugh and accept her frustration, “Sorry. Got caught up.”

“Obviously,” Rin sighs, falling to her knees around the party’s temporary camp.

Kabru sits as well, still observing as you apologize to Rin again though your eyes trailing the kids as they heft food packs onto their shoulders and begin their trek.

Mickbell settles into Kuro’s lap, Daya has begun digging into her plate while Holm ensures everyone has a filling portion. Rin agrees to dissolve the tension, meaning you two can begin gaffing amongst yourselves. As if you never left, the party is normal.

Despite your itch to reach the fourth floor as soon as possible, you don’t mention the interaction whatsoever.

Overall, Kabru considers your first dive with the party a cohesion success.

Year 515

“Don’t speak over or interrupt. Got it?”

“Okay.”

“At all.”

“Alright.”

“I’m serious,” Kabru’s eyes widen a smidge, as if to force how pertinent it is that Laios absorbs this lesson, “I’m still upset about the meeting last week.”

“I didn’t know he wasn’t done talking,” Laios frowns, shrugging in an obnoxiously coy play, the worst part being that Kabru knows Laios does it in earnest. His stupid kicked-puppy stare is entirely genuine, “That guy takes long breaths, it’s hard to tell when he’s done.”

“Well try harder to tell now,” a wave of guilt hits Kabru in the chest, heart squeezing at the sight of Laios’ frown deepening, “I don’t mean to upset you. I just… I want this to go well.”

“I do, too, you know?”

Kabru finds that hard to believe, but Laios isn’t lying to him right now. He’d know otherwise. Whether Laios can make a positive impression will have to be seen, but the man clearly has no intentions of sabotaging himself.

For all his lackluster socio-political ambitions, Laios is still a good king: insightful to the experience of commonmen and quick to new ways of strengthening their country. He has yet to give citizens, or Kabru, valid reason to question his ability to rule.

“I’m sure,” Kabru turns in his desk chair, bracing his forehead with his palm, “Let’s get this finished then.”

“But- “ Laios hesitates when he’s shot an icy glare from Kabru, “But I’m so hungry…”

As if to punctuate his torment, Laios’ stomach grumbles. Loudly. Echoing through the informal setting of Kabru’s personal quarters.

“My poor royal majesty,” Kabru coos, inked with sarcasm, “Will you survive till lunch?”

Laios’ eyes go thin, arms folding, “Don’t demean me.”

“It’s one meal. You’ll hardly die. The faster we finish this paperwork, the quicker we can usher you to breakfast.”

“I want to go now,” Laios, with no sense of self, lays his lips into the crook of his advisor’s neck. Soft, plump flesh scorching Kabru’s pulse, then a cold flash of bone: teeth, “I’m starving.”

Bladepoint canines puncture Kabru’s skin, shock blinding him to the scathing scratch till after Laios has already pulled away. Saliva stringing them together before Laios snaps it, sloppily swiping the wrist of his sleeve across his mouth.

“Disgusting,” Kabru starkly avoids eye contact by glaring at the sheen of spit on his shoulder, cupping the inflamed flesh, “Go change your shirt now, it’s not a handkerchief.”

He doesn’t remember when he first felt comfortable being so venomous around Laios, only that it's easier than trying to be pleasant all the time.

“After I eat?” Laios prompts.

“After you eat,” Kabru massages his tensing temples, working away the headache as it builds.

Upon Laios’ exit, Kabru traces the shallow indents with his fingertips -- lashes fluttering against his cheeks at the resulting faint sting. Now he’ll be forced to find a new shirt of his own, one that hides his bruising mark.

Year 513

“As long as we don’t piss off any living armor, we should be able to get to the fourth floor, at least,” you nod to yourself, hands steady and body firm as you hold up your homemade map of the area.

Raucous groans follow your cheery assessment, and a cursory glance back shows your party in disarray: Rin and Holm have heavy, discolored bags beneath their eyes. Daya is leaning against her axe with quaking arms while Mickbell coils around Kero’s shoulders. Even Kabru can admit he looks worse for wear, or assumes he does because he certainly feels at his worst.

“Oh, unless you all want to head back?” you roll the map up and wave a hand dismissively, almost seeming ashamed of the previous suggestion. Cautious to maintain a soothing and even tone, clearly doing your best to prevent any of them from feeling coddled or mocked.

Not that he truly wants to, but Kabru agrees, “Probably for the best. We’re running low on food, so we should save what we have for the journey back.”

“Makes sense,” you don’t appear disappointed or discouraged, “There’s always next time.”

“Enough optimism,” Mickbell whines, “It’s making me all nauseous.”

“Be nice,” Rin chastises, then looking at you forlorn, “You could probably carry on without us.”

Her dejected lilt prevents any accusations of wanting you to go it alone.

“No way, I’d go crazy by myself!”

Kabru reads that instantly as a lie -- if your scrunching brows and fidgeting hands weren’t telling enough then perhaps you don’t remember confessing to him your days as a solo adventurer.

You could easily carry on without the rest of the party. Hell, you could even join a better, stronger party -- the Toudens, maybe. They’d chomp at your skills if they cared even a little about their fellow men. Kabru bets you would even be able to form a party of your own with ease.

“We’re strongest when everyone’s at their best, after all,” you reassure, turning your back on the dream to hit fourth floor this crawl in favor of aiding your party’s exhaustion, “As long as we can go that deep eventually, I’ll die happily.”

Kabru doesn’t bring up how rapidly approaching the date for you to sail back home is, he gets the sense you wouldn’t want him to.

“Well don’t go keeling on us as soon as we do,” Rin’s scowl loosens, only slightly, when you smile in return and loop an arm through hers.

“Of course, not, Rin. Who else would terrorize you if I died?”

Quickly, the mage’s dark eyes flick to Kabru before returning to you, “I have an idea.”

“Oh, duh.”

Her gaze lingers on the way you’re staring at Kabru and how Kabru stares back. She must read his fondness because her forehead wrinkles up and she tugs you forward, “Yeah, duh.”

Year 515

Kabru’s foot taps impatiently, knowing it’d be improper were he to rush over and help you down from the carriage himself. But forgive the man, he’s in a hurry to have you at his side again.

He wonders if you wear the same perfume.

He wonders if you’ll take to Laios immediately, or will it take the entire two weeks before your wedding ceremony for you to warm to him?

Most of all, he wonders if he can compose himself during the entire courting process.

“Hey!”

Kabru’s mind snaps back into the present at your call, you’re charging over with an ecstatic wave. He waves back, calmer and centered towards his chest.

“It’s great to see you again!” you effortlessly knock the polite handshake Kabru extends aside to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “Imagine my surprise, the first time you send a letter is to try and marry me to a king!”

“I never found the time to write back when things finally got interesting,” Kabru bluffs, returning your hug. Warmth spreads between the both of you, if he focuses hard enough he can make out the dull thud of your heart, “Hopefully this makes up for it.”

“Definitely,” you pull back, rolling your eyes, “Father made my brother village chief while I was on The Island, so there wasn’t anything left for me to do there.”

“Perfect time to get one up on your brother. Even just marrying into royalty is better than village chief.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Let’s meet Laios Touden first. I remember he was kind of a weird guy, no?”

“He still is,” Kabru shrugs, turning to guide you into the main hall as men lug your bags towards the castle’s south wing, “He’s nice, at least. Wants to make living easier,” he glances back at you over his shoulder, “Handsome, too. You must remember what he looks like.”

“I remember he was big.”

“Strong, yeah,” Kabru slows to match paces with you through the rolling corridors, “Nice jawline, pretty eyes, and the slope of his nose isn’t terrible. He’s kind of an outstanding specimen, physically I mean.”

“Oh…” you press a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at his rambling, “So his looks do the heavy lifting?”

“Just something to keep in mind,” he pauses outside a set of tall double doors, one hand braced against the hanging, solid black handle, and the other drawing circles into his temple, “His unique personality hasn’t faded with becoming king.”

“How interesting.”

“That’s a word for it.”

Laios is slumped comfortably back into his throne, sunlight complimenting his bored expression before he notices the pair pushing through his grandeur. Immediately, his eyes sink into you, scrawling from the top of your head to your feet in blatant observation. Staunchly, his gaze remains respectful to your modesty, indicating he’s purely sizing you up; perhaps confirming whether or not he could take you in a fight. Or to use you as a meager replacement for his monsters, studying your anatomy and mentally attaching tails and horns and heads where he sees fit.

“King Laios,” you politely remain behind Kabru. Your own gaze lurches over the king’s body as well, much less clinical than his examination -- you already know you could take him in a fight. What you want to imagine now, is if he’s the outstanding specimen that Kabru claimed, “So nice to see the Golden Kingdom for myself.”

“Prettier than the North,” Laios, much to Kabru’s unspoken irritation, scratches the back of his head without grace, “You’re from there too, right? How has it been? I haven’t been in awhile.”

“Oh, you know,” none of the men from your village look like Laios, despite their hard labor they aren’t built like him. Big. Beefy. Chewable also comes to mind; you could chew him up and be full of protein. From the little pouch of his stomach you surmise he isn’t cut or excessively defined, which drives you mad, “Same as usual. Cold and quiet.”

“Mhm. How about the monsters up top? I don’t think anybody from my village was willing to slay them,” he folds his arms, legs spreading as he readjusts for comfort, head ticking curiously, “I’ve been thinking lately that they could be overrun by monsters if nobody fights them off.”

Kabru’s irritation grows, having to claw at his thighs to restrain from choking the man. He may be older and bigger and more powerful than Kabru is, but Laios is the most painfully oblivious man in the world. He just has to be. He’s so focused on not attacking his king that Kabru almost misses how eyes scald his side at the mention of monsters overtaking the North.

“I haven’t noticed anything unusual,” and you mean that, the North truly is as boring as it was when you were growing up, “Maybe more acceptance for magic, but that’s mostly to combat the increase in ghosts.”

“Increase in ghosts,” Laios’ eyes bulge, posture straightening out in vivid excitement, “Do they know why there’s so many? Do they just wander around, or do they remain in cemeteries?”

“Ah, King Laios,” you try to hide the way your eyes bounce repeatedly towards Kabru’s rigid frame. His hands are balled, even shaking, and his stare is aimed over the king’s right shoulder, “Perhaps we could get some privacy before discussing such things?” you boldly step forward, correctly assuming Laios would take no offense at the intrusion, “We should get to know each other on our own.”

“Oh, right!” Laios waves a dismissal towards Kabru, apologizing for holding the man so long.

You don’t ask Kabru if he’s okay before he leaves, but you take one of his hands and squeeze it gingerly. Smiling tenderly and bidding him well. A soft halo of gold ringing around your head from sunlight pouring through glass panes.

“Don’t let- ” just as he’s apologizing for his king, you silence Kabru.

“I’ll form my own opinion,” you release his hand, still grinning, “You trust me, don’t you?” he nods, of course he does, “So trust me to gather my own thoughts, okay?”

Oh, God that cannot be a good sign.

Please, please, please -- he’s contemplating getting on his knees to pray outside the doors -- please don’t let his reaction to Laios’ monster obsession make you hate the king. You’re his only choice, the only one that will do!

You’re kind and strong willed and beautiful and he’d love to have you living under the same roof as himself.

Not that that has anything to do with his decision. No, no, that would be idiotic.

That would be the worst plan he’s ever planned in his entire life. So, he’s glad it's separate from his real motivation.

At least, he’s glad until that night. Alone in his bed with only moonlight shining along his pristine sheets.

For hours Kabru has been cooped in his room, and technically he’s been cooped in his mind even longer. Since the second a passing pair of guards relieved him from lingering outside the throne room, Kabru blindly stumbled through his messy thoughts.

Worse now than ever before is the desperation to know. Clawing him apart from the inside out. He needs to know.

To know what you’re feeling. To know what’s being said. To know why you two never came out, even hours after Kabru left. In explicit detail, he must know. What you like about Laios, what you don’t, what you find attractive, if you got hot in the face when you saw him, if you ever felt that way about Kabru, if you think Kabru’s attractive, if you accepted his invitation just because Kabru sent it or because you truly wanted to meet Laios.

He can’t just ask, so now he must meticulously set up a series of precision events to fish the information out.

Because your hesitance to emphatically accept the proposal confuses Kabru. You’ve never been particularly picky about partners, but you’re not the type for manufacturing attraction to spare a person’s feelings. So theory one is that Laios is not physically appealing to you.

Though not even that explanation makes sense. To be short, Kabru doesn’t understand how you couldn’t be attracted to Laios. Such strong, determined features demanded attention; and trust, the attention would be positive.

Broad shoulders and meaty thighs, Laios’ build is admirable on its own: Kabru could sink his teeth into Laios’ bicep and never cut bone. Aside from that is the healthy fluff of blonde hair his king keeps trimmed, as well as his face. Remaining clean shaven gives an air of proper hygiene and self-sufficiency that makes Laios seem more attractive.

Kabru cannot fathom how you’re not preparing vows yet.

That thought makes him shoot up in bed, eyes wide and a hand curled into his churning gut.

Why can’t Kabru fathom how you’re not preparing vows? Why does he find it so peculiar?

That type of questioning, this obsession -- it implies Kabru wants to prepare vows, doesn’t it?

With ragged grumbling Kabru collapses back into his mattress, letting his fried brain melt through his ears as he finally attempts giving in to sleep.

…

He wakes to a nightmare the next morning -- you and Laios are alone in the great hall, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the end closest to the kitchen. Chairs pushed so close the armrests are peeling against each other, elbows knocking as Laios forgoes all table etiquette. Not once do you scold or demean him. Instead seeming too engrossed at the ear-nibbling of shapeshifter trivia Laios is laying down.

“Did you ever run into one?” Laios asks, eyes a little too glittery for someone who must’ve woken quite early for this private breakfast, “My dad had our dogs follow herds so we could spot them in the flock.”

“Dogs can tell which sheep are fakes?”

“Oh, yeah! Dogs can tell by the smell,” Laios taps his nose, “I wonder what the difference is, don’t you? Do they smell more sweet, like dirt? Or do they have no smell at all since their illusions?”

“Maybe a Kobold would be able to tell you? Their anatomy is dog-like, after all.”

“I thought so, too! But there’s not many Kobolds native to the North.”

“Well, hopefully you can find out one day,” then you bite for more monster facts, “I did always wonder what my own shapeshifter could look like. Don’t they read people’s minds to make their copies?”

Laios’ silverware clatters away, tinking loudly on the glass plate, hands flexing hysterically, heart jumping to his tongue, “They do, they take other people’s interpretations of you to confuse your company into keeping it around.”

“How thrilling,” you muse.

“It’s a shame I’ll never get to see or make another one,” he lifts his fork, pushing meat and eggs around his plate glumly, “Would’ve been fun to see what you look like in my memory compared to the real thing.”

“You can tell me now,” your palm bares his shoulder, leaning over your chair and towards his own. Laios’ honey eyes dip, tracing the shape of your lips which makes you lean even closer, “How is it that you see me, Laios? Would I be flattered?”

“I hope so,” he blurts.

Kabru backs away, rattling door hinges before slumping back into the corridor. Rotten thoughts of how lovely you are corroding his brain. You’re so lovely to nip at your betrothed’s interest wholeheartedly, no matter how unconventional.

You’re so lovely it's all consuming.

You’re so lovely he can’t remember when or why, exactly, he fell in love with you.

You’re so lovely he thinks he might have just always been your emotional pin cushion.

There remains to be a single thing Kabru could name that made him fall in love with you.

Kindness is much too bland of a trait. And you wanted the wellbeing of others, but that’s something Kabru expects from people. You are pretty, but that’s no reason to daydream about buying a house together. Perhaps it was a combination of all three that mixed lethally well with how much time you spent together.

That, with how detrimental party romances are to group fallouts, maybe made you more desirable? Could that be it?

You were a new, fascinating person he couldn’t pick apart as soon as he gazed upon you, and you knew exactly how to swerve his expectations. You loved listening to him mutter about the interlocked nature of humans: one man cheating on his wife in Kahka Brud undoing a port in Melini. But you stepped away from interpersonal Island gossip. You could rattle out seven variations of man-eating plants but couldn’t stand to even look upon the vegetation without grimacing.

Approachable with a thin smile and batting lashes, beautiful and quiet. Very quiet. You hardly ask anything of others. It should make you seem ominous or menacing, but no part of him feels endangered by you.

Kabru always felt so comfortable around you that, despite knowing his other party members longer, he found you the easiest to converse with. Before he could realize himself, you’d crawled over so many emotional walls without letting him bypass a single one of your own.

You’re his worst nightmare, he craves you more than oxygen.

Year 513

The tavern door opens with an outrageous squeal. If the mood were different, then you would probably make a humorous remark about the aged hinges. But the mood isn’t different. Things are tense and he just wants to go home now.

Even twinkling stars blink away to avoid giving his humiliation anymore attention. Moonlight rudely oozes over you both, though, reminding him how much he prefers the sun. The moon always seems to follow him when he’s whirled in his worst turmoil.

You step into the tavern first, holding the cranky door open for him. He’d thank you like the upstanding young man his mother raised… if only the mood were different.

Silently, Kabru trails behind you, cheeks blistering hot and palms moist, with his head bent. You two make it back to the table circled by your party, sans Daya due to a more pressing engagement with her fiance. Rin’s perma-scowl cracks briefly into blatant shock at his slouch before schooling herself into re-wrinkling her face. Confusion curling into the folds of her glabella.

“What happened?”

Per usual, you answer for Kabru, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” anger seems to flash briefly over her for a moment, a spasm so minute only Kabru can spot it, “Really?”

He’s not surprised she’s upset about him, shamefully, trying to woo you during a night out with the party. What surprises him is that her anger is solely directed at you.

At least until you nod firmly, “Nothing happened, Rin.”

Then pity laxes her irritation, she spares Kabru a flicker of eye contact before mumbling an ‘okay’. She ends up remaining largely silent for the rest of the night, only extending responses when directly prompted.

What else surprises him is the ease with which you lie. Something happened, just not how he wanted it to play out.

Maybe he didn’t notice because of his drowned mood, but Kabru swears you didn’t exhibit any of your usual tells when you spoke.

(the fact he harps on your physical tells will make him so mad he cries later tonight)

Year 515

“He’s going to burn their ear off, I’m telling you…” Marcille grumbles.

“I think it's cute,” Falin grins.

“Of course, you do,” Marcille sighs, though smiling fondly at the girl while scritching around her plumage. Falin chirps happily and nuzzles into Marcille’s shoulder, “He’s your brother, you never think he’s as weird as he is.”

Kabru speaks boldly, which he knows is unlike himself but he’s so eager to show that he knows you more than them that he cannot stop himself, “They can bond over the monster talk, at least.”

“Are they even into monsters?”

“Kind of?” he backtracks, realizing that he isn’t sure how to answer her question, “They hate monsters, but they know a lot.”

“Good on you for finding someone like that, then,” Marcille shrugs, “They might actually have a good marriage.”

Kabru tenses, even though he shouldn’t (because he knows why you’re here, so he can’t exactly get depressed when other people bring it up), “Yeah. They will.”

“For a while, I thought you’d marry my brother,” Falin says suddenly. Eyes sharp on Kabru’s figure.

Marcille guffaws, “Why would you say that?”

She shrugs before letting her eyes relax to their usual serene state, “They get along well. And Laios likes him. Laios doesn’t usually like people.”

“I guess you have a point,” Marcille waves a figurative flag before gesturing to the room around them, “But we’re not planning their wedding.”

“Yeah…” Falin sighs like she’s the one most disappointed.

Kabru says nothing, only returning to the list of ale and wine suppliers eager to vend for the upcoming royal wedding. His eyes skim names he’s heard various reviews for, but his brain takes none of them in. Rather, he’s fixated on what Falin said.

She could see it?

Could they have gotten married?

If Kabru forgot you completely, or even better never met you, could it be him stepping up to the altar? Would Laios have him?

Laios doesn’t usually like people. but in crowded meetings, it's solely Kabru that Laios searches for. And it’s the sight of Kabru that makes Laios sigh in relief. And it’s the sound of Kabru’s voice that Laios waits for before delivering a response.

At dinner, back when they ate together before you monopolized mealtimes, Laios always ensured Kabru had twice his fill before calling it a night.

(“Even though we’re not fighting in a dungeon anymore, I still think you should retain your strength.”

“You sound like you just like watching me eat.”

“Maybe that, too. You have a nice mouth.”

Kabru never responded to that, too petrified over the implications. Now he thinks he probably should have, maybe it would have meant he’d be marrying a king.)

Falin was right in that Laios doesn’t take to people easily, and he’s sure that’s all she meant. But Kabru knows that her statement is a criminal oversimplification of Laios.

Laios likes people so much he’s gone on potentially endless, potentially fruitless, endeavors for them. Laios likes people so much he makes them harpy eggs because they seem minorly interested in monster cuisine. Laios likes people so much he makes sure they’re treated with the utmost dignity. Laios loves people, and suddenly the thought of you becoming one of those select people is getting harder to grieve.

Laios’ love is not limited, but now Kabru’s forced to come to terms with the fact that Laios’ romantic love for him is--

“So, did you pick yet?” Marcille and Falin are swatching fabrics from the cushy loveseat of the main library, “I’ve heard of a roach outbreak in Smisson’s breweries, so I hope you didn’t get attached.”

Kabru jolts upright and shakes his head, saying the first dumb thing he can think of, “I heard of that, too.”

Falin giggles, “He’s the one that told you about it, Marcille.”

“Huh? You’re kidding!” a furious blush overtakes the elf, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how I forgot that!”

Kabru shakes his head again, swallowing roughly, “It’s fine.”

Really, it’s all fine.

Year 513

“Everyone wanted to be here,” Kabru chuckles quietly, as if raising his voice could somehow wake the entire Island.

“I’m sure,” there’s no hint of sarcasm in your voice, “They were with me late last night, so… I didn’t really expect anyone to see me off,” you giggle softly, a hollow sound he doesn’t take very kindly, “I’m surprised you made it.”

“It’s the least I could do after everything you gave the party,” with no decorum he scratches the back of his neck, and avoids looking you in the face, “It’ll be harder in the dungeon without you.”

“I believe in you.”

His breath hitches. He looks at you. A barely-there smile and tired eyes. It may be the most honest he’s seen you. He’s tempted to ask how you meant that ‘you’, but doesn’t.

He doesn’t even speak until you’re boarded -- until he’s forced to raise his voice so you can hear him over a bustling crew and fellow passengers.

“If I send letters, will you read them?” Kabru silences you before you can open your mouth, “Will you respond?”

Then, you’re smiling wider, and your eyes are tight with joy. It isn’t the usual siren cant of droopy lids, it’s pure elation. You’re laughing at his question, shoulders bouncing gleefully. You’re nodding. You speak between chortles, as if he asked you what color the sky was.

“Of course, I will!”

You look more beautiful than he’s ever seen you before.

“Okay, I’ll write you, then.”

“You better!”

Your ship rocks as it sets off from the dock, but you don’t disappear beneath the ridge. In fact, you almost hang over it, torso flattening against wood and nails digging for purchase as you wave.

Kabru waves back. He runs down the dock like a fool, barely catching himself from tumbling into the lapping ocean.

“Bye, Kabru!” you’re still smiling, bathed in soft orange and soothing yellow -- your voice grows distant over crashing waves, “I’ll miss you!”

He keeps waving. He waves and he waves and he doesn’t stop until your ship is behind the horizon. Only then does his hand fall to his side, eyes sopping wet and chest squeezing.

He feels pathetic.

He misses you already.

Year 515

Days prior this morning, the grand hall was cleared out -- pews replaced the needlessly long cherry oak dining table. Flowers plotted in tall carved vases with white lace and silk choking the necks, a velvet track from the altar through open doors to the courtyard. People from across the continents were invented, diplomats to friendly nobles to acquaintances Laios does not remember to true friends to your father and brother and Falin.

(“You don’t want to invite your parents?” Kabru re-evaluates his list of guests, “Seems uncouth, no?”

“What do I care?” Laios’ legs are splayed, thighs pressing against either side of the gold throne, “A wedding is meant to be happy, why would I need people I don’t like there?” he knocks a fist back into Kabru’s chest, letting his knuckles linger over the man’s heart only as long as he can say, “I have you, and my betrothed, and my friends. Really, that’s all I need.”

“It’d be rude to- ”

“I get it,” Laios’ hand falls back onto his armrest, fingertips skimming the rounded metal edge, “This is why I’m leaving it to you, I trust you.”)

Out of all the tedious preparation, dressing Laios was the most tragic in that the king hated everything the handmaids and servants stuffed him in. Countless hours were wasted before they begged Kabru to help, only then did the king settle:

No crown, terminally unsurprising, since Laios abhorred the weight and feel of it on his head. Rather, he would adorn himself with that dreadful Winged Lion’s pelt, and a vermillion cotehardie reaching mid-thigh with gold trim. Leather belt tethered around his waist gave the fabric shape whilst holding up loose britches. Daggered teeth of various beasts lined his neck, which Kabru was privy to each and every complaint over the sensory nightmare they provided. He’s sure as soon as Laios can, he’ll be tearing the necklace off.

Dressing himself, regardless of Laios’ multiple emphatic encouragements, was a similar exercise in disaster:

It felt massively inappropriate to wear something so shiny and attractive as gold on another man’s wedding night, even as Laios insisted Kabru wear whatever he pleased. Still, Kabru chose silver earrings and accents. Sparkling and flattering, yes, but nothing so bold. He did splurge with a sapphire blue kirtie that made his eyes shine brighter, and a simple chain of pearls. He felt attractive, and joyous.

Joyous for tonight. Joyous for a wedding! Yes, simply so ecstatic for tonight’s marriage.

Truthfully, Kabru is so overjoyed for his king, he really could just fucking die.

From joy. And happiness.

Because what makes it even better is how you look happy. Actually happy. No low gaze or siren simper, just pure, carefree merriment as you link hands with Laios. Reciting vows from a flushed, teary-eyed Marcille. Neither of you has that gleam or honeydew sparkle of pure love, but Kabru is good at his job: zero doubt swims in his mind that you two will be a pair truly enamored with each other.

His misery must be unfiltered in the back of the grand hall, far behind the rest of the wedding party, because Rin’s dark eyes are piercing through the side of his skull. She’s frowning up at him, arms folded.

She murmurs, “You should’ve said something.”

Kabru grins at her sardonically, “I should’ve broken up their engagement? You didn’t even like us interacting when they were in our party.”

“That’s- !” her cheeks stain red, an annoyed huff rattling her whole body, “They never told you why they rejected you, right?”

Kabru’s silence is answer enough. It’s also more unsettling to Rin than any dungeon monster she’d encountered.

“They knew that I wanted you,” Rin clears her throat, embarrassment trying to choke her into silence, but she overcomes it for the sake of her friend, “So, out of respect, you were refused and never told why.”

Kabru loves Rin, as a sister. He loves her so much he’d kill for her, because she’s like his sister. He loves her so so so much that he cannot even be mad at her, because part of him always considered her somewhat to blame for your rejection of him.

For an agonizing, silent few seconds, Kabru just stares down at her with those crystalline eyes. Blinking himself from his stupor, Kabru asks the dumbest question he could think of, “Did they want to say yes?”

Rin’s frown deepens, forehead wrinkling, “Is that something you really want to know?”

Laios is a terrible kisser, and out of respect you cover your mouths with a hand as he maps out your lips with eyes clenched. Kabru told him not to close his eyes too early, and naturally Laios did not listen. Thankfully you’re there, hiding Laios’ possible humiliation with one hand and guiding him with your other on his jaw.

“No,” Kabru sighs, “Not really.”

That’s the biggest lie he might’ve ever told Rin.

Still she pats his back sympathetically, even laying her head against his shoulder.

Celebration begins, food laid free for grabbing and wine flowing like water -- especially into Kabru’s gaping maw. It's sour on his tongue, but as far as he’s seen it's him alone that scrunches his face and shakes out his hair at the taste, which only has him feeling crazier.

.

.

.

“Isn’t this foul?” Kabru scoffs, slumped over one of the many strewn tables in the general ballroom, cramped posture making him seem smaller. Ordinarily this is embarrassing. Ordinarily he’s not drunk.

“I don’t notice anything,” Chilchuck swigs from the clear chalice in his hand.

Marcille takes a civilized sip for herself, unspoken concern that their friend’s taste in alcohol is not utmost dependable, “I don’t notice anything either.”

Kabru swirls his wine, staring into the dark spiral and wondering if a bug of some type sensed his grim mood and decided to drown itself and poison his cup.

“I’m going to get a new drink, then,” Kabru rises, bidding the pair well as he guns for the barrels of frothy ale.

People cheer and clack maizers, spilling various toxic cures onto the floor making his shoes stick with loud clicks. Something he doesn’t bother with knowing Laios will seek him out once the stains are discovered.

Laios, Laios, Laios: speaking of.

Kabru’s gaze floats across the party to find his king, who is staring off with hands fidgeting in the drape of his Winged Lion’s pelt as your father speaks. An unfortunate sight, one he’s itching to rectify when a lengthy gown flows into his vision.

Dashing and soft and yours.

Sage fabric glides along the floor, intricately sewn floral trim skittering along the ground. Flowers of lace and yarn decorate the bust and sleeves, even a crown of colorful buds blooms atop your head. Rings of gold link around your fingers. Hair swept away to unveil your face, coiled and braided with, unbelievably, more flowers dancing between the tresses. Faint lavender and tangerine lingers around you in a hypnotizing haze, culling lovestruck head-turns of men and women with your every step.

“Your husband’s alone with your father.”

“They’ll come out alive, or we’ll hear them killing each other,” you pull out a seat at the longest central table and gesture to the chair directly beside you, “Sit. We never got to properly catch up.”

Kabru sees you have wine. He suddenly craves the sour grape flavor (maybe all he was missing was the sensation of licking it off your lips). From what he remembers, Laios was holding wine as well. Kabru considers stretching out to steal a second taste.

Although, sugary enough is the sound of your voice, suddenly his fresh mug of ale is entirely forgotten.

“Kabru?”

You’re so pretty, Kabru could tear his eyes out now and not miss a single greater sight. Especially when you’re -again- bathed in the pouring gold sunlight through grand windows, tranquil beside him at the long table. As if there isn’t a single other spot you prefer, you sit right next to him with a chalice of the worst wine he’s ever had.

“Hey, Kabru…”

His hands shake with the need to hold you. Chest raging with his uncontrollable heartbeat. His head hurts with the knowledge that there really isn’t a place he prefers more than by you (even if he’s forced to drink alcohol so foul it's comparable to sewage).

“Kabru,” your touch startles him, pout and knitted brows capturing his whole attention, “You’re not even listening to me!” you laugh, shaking off his incompetence so easily it makes him want to thank you with a kiss, “Are you drunk?”

“Huh?” he lowers his head into his hands, “Yes,” he lies to you, “Yes, that must be it.”

“Poor thing, I thought you were better at holding your liquor.”

“Your memory is fading…”

“Oh, well, suppose me and the king will have to tuck you in. Make sure you get to bed safely without bumping into anything expensive.”

Kabru gags, pushing himself up from his seat and dashing towards the nearest bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach (wine, mead, beer, and beer’s good brother ale).

Tears sting his eyes, snot beginning to leak from his nose as he spits into the toilet bowl. You and the king. The king and you. You and Laios: married. Perfect union. And Kabru did it all to himself. He wanted so desperately to drink himself under the table to forget, and you just had to go reminding him.

You are the worst person he’s ever met, and so is Laios! Your commitment to respect is disgusting, and Laios’ trust in him is an absolute travesty. You two should just hurry up and keel over instead of shoving your romance in Kabru’s face; and if either of you ever thanks him for setting you up then he’ll gut you both that very instant.

Laios and you are terrible, awful, no good devils -- and he wants you both so bad he’s vomiting in the bathroom on your wedding night.

Maybe he can send you both off on a honeymoon? Yes, yes. And while you’re away, he’ll drown in responsibility by day and pretty faces by night. Upon your return, he’ll have forgotten he was ever smitten.

No, who is he kidding? That would be a pointless venture.

You’d be so giddy to tell Kabru allllll about your trip while Laios would show off trinkets he picked up with that charming smile, Kabru would fall right back here. Puking and crying. He should just resign totally. Rot away in bed and die so he never has to see either of you again.

How cowardly.

How unbecoming.

Kabru could kick himself.

Rin was in his position more or less (...less, though, definitely less) and still had the nerve to face him every day for years. She didn’t run away, and she didn’t make her party suffer because of her feelings -- so how could Kabru extend the kingdom’s wellbeing over his? Without him, Laios would socially drown with a village chief’s firstborn as a life preserver.

You’re smart and well-versed in reading others, but you’re not Kabru for God’s sake. You can’t apply half of what you know, not to mention you don’t even care to learn.

Wiping off his mouth and flushing the toilet, Kabru stumbles toward the doorway with a prayer in his pocket to find water soon.

Returning to the chipper scene, Kabru can instantaneously spot Laios flagging him down, with his spare hand curved into the base of your spine.

He dodges you both and retires to bed. Lightheaded and miserable, he’s asleep quickly.

Then, suddenly, he’s not.

.

.

.

He’s outside Laios’ room.

Did his feet carry him here subconsciously? How pathetic…

Kabru is fully prepared to turn back and amble to his room when there’s a sound from the other side of the door. A sharp gasp and whine, then your giggling, and Laios’ voice pleading for you to be nice to him. More murmuring, then a soft moan. A lofty sigh.

Song of a consummation.

Foolishly, Kabru hadn’t thought that your sex life was something he’d have to encounter directly. And despite knowing he should step away, if not out of honor then at least to preserve his own heart, Kabru’s curiosity bolts him to the floor.

He’s never seen Laios fuck.

He’s never seen you fuck, either.

He feels compelled to study -- how does your subdued front mesh with Laios’ eager hands? Which of you takes control? With his bigger size and more powerful title, one would assume Laios, but Kabru bets it's you. Will you make him wait? Would he dive between your thighs with fervor? How will the lip stain your ladies painted you with look slathered across Laios’ pale skin?

Despite knowing what it says about his character, Kabru stays. On some level to get it through to himself that you two are together and off-limits; and on a deeper, truer level because he’s sick in the head.

As was the plan anyway, until a booming, “Hey!” echoes from down the dim hall. A guardsman fast approaching from his patrol route. Kabru’s face is hidden by the dark, figure easily mistaken for a passing servant. But even if the guard could recognize him, would it matter?

What reason does the royal advisor have for lingering outside his king’s chambers so late into the night?

Lies fly through Kabru’s brain as the guard bristles closer, none of them plausible. Finally, the idea of killing this man cycles through his mind, and he reconciles with the fact that must be his only option to avoid an obscenity charge.

“Oh, you came!” a soft hand lands between Kabru’s shoulder blades, voice floating past him and to the guard now two feet away, “Thank you for your faithful service, but don’t concern yourself with him. Our king summoned him,” your laugh soothes Kabru’s tensed muscles, “I wasn’t sure he’d make it because of the hour.”

Kabru stares at you, not bothering to hide his confused, jaw-hanging stare as the guard retreats to his typical patrol.

A thin silk robe drapes over you, loosely tied at the waist and exposing much of your chest.

“I never took you for a pervert, Kabru,” such a mellow voice makes even your scalding accusation sound sweet. You whirr him around by the arm and lug him into yours and Laios’ newly shared room. All proprieties trapped outside but trepidation slithers through, lodging in his gullet.

Laios lays on the bed, exposed completely. Tousled sheets bunched between his hands and under his thighs. Cheeks flushed redder than the head of his cock, hard and slapped against his stomach. Wide spread thighs and heaving chest bountiful eye candy.

“How’d you know it was him?” Laios sounds devastatingly breathless, eyes low and ruby lips swollen.

“Hunch,” you answer plainly, petting down Kabru’s arm until your fingers lace with his.

Kabru murmurs your name, wide eyed. You knew?

Of course, you knew. How could he have thought anything else? Your calm nature about the whole ordeal solidifies that you must’ve known for a long while. Longer than him, even. When would you have figured it out?

“He’s beautiful,” you perch your chin on Kabru’s shoulder, cooing into his ear, “You were always so focused on his face, you’ve never gotten to see anything beneath his clothes, have you?”

Oh, right. The very first day you got here, obviously.

Laios rolls his head from one shoulder to the other, brows pinching in frustration, heated gaze straying from Kabru to you, “He’s going to touch me, right?”

“Depends,” your hands skim up Kabru’s spine, nudging him forward, “Kabru, do you want to touch your king?” one arm glides around his front, fingers toying with the band of his trousers, “And myself?”

“Uhhh…” can he be honest with himself? Can he lay himself bare before not one, but two people? Two people he’s interested in above all else. Heat laps from the barrel of his chest, scorching from cheeks to ears to forehead as sweat beads along his hairline and the back of his neck.

“I asked a question. I need a response.”

Laios’ cock twitches against his abdomen, throat croaking around desire.

“Yes,” Kabru exhales, heavy, barbed, and thorny, cutting him up inside until he’s too weak to stand. Sinking onto the mattress by his knees, “I will.”

Laios’ eyes flick from Kabru’s face down to his weepy erection.

He wants Laios in his mouth. Wants the warmth slapping his tongue, burrowing towards the cinch of his throat. He wants to grope the bulge his king forces through his neck and feel your hands buried in his dark hair. The latter need is fulfilled, your fingers combing through dark curls to push him into your husband’s crotch.

“What a pretty mouth, Kabru, you love to run it,” you climb onto the bed beside him, holding Laios steady by the base, “Try something new, hm?”

“New is- ”

“Try it, Kabru. Now,” regardless of the choppy demand, your voice remains dulcet. Pillowy and fluffy. He could melt into your sound.

His tongue lolls to slather the underside of Laios’ cock with hot saliva, enveloping the man in his mouth. Cheeks hollowing and lashes batting wetly up at the king, crimson deepening on Laios’ face. Behind him, the mattress dips and shakes, Laios’ eyes jumping from baby blues to over Kabru’s back, hips jerking against his chin.

Your hand lifts from inky hair, curls slipping between your fingers in vain attempts to tether you against his skull. Now both your palms run up Laios’ chest as you mold against his side. Your thighs spread around one of his arms and robe nowhere to be found, painted lips smear rouge up Laios’ neck and cheek before you claim his lips.

One of Laios’ hands cradles Kabru’s head, not rudely pushing nor wrangling his hair, just an affectionate reminder of whose cock is in his throat. Meanwhile, the hand between your thighs crooks towards your heat, middle finger ringing your clit -- earning a jump and heave from you.

Laios coaxes Kabru off, winded as he requests, “Can you two kiss? Please?”

Kabru gives the king no time to abjure before he’s spearing you with attention, not that you’re more patient; hurriedly cupping his cheeks and legs spreading to welcome him between. Sat up enough to give Laios a proper view, Kabru fondles your ass as you happily cram your lips to his. He wonders if your lip stain wipes off on him as well. He hopes it does.

“So beautiful,” Laios muses stroking his cock, casually flicking his wrist and thumbing the head, as you reach for Kabru’s.

Kabru’s lips sear down your neck, urged to bite. He does not.

“Soft, right?” Laios lays his head against your shoulder, poking obnoxiously into Kabru’s space (not that he minds), “Still sweet with wine.”

You taste better than the fucking wine.

Does Laios?

Your lips curl, drifting away just to whisper against his lips, “Would you like to kiss the king?”

“Can I?”

Before you can reaffirm, Laios snatches Kabru by the chin to kiss him.

Laios is not sweet like wine, he tastes like beer and salt and iron from a raw lip, and yet Kabru cannot drink him down fast enough.

Hands, big and calloused and sweltering, brand Kabru’s hips -- spinning him around to face the door as you unwork the man’s nightshirt. Tossing the flowy cloth aside, you press a final kiss to Kabru’s lips, before laying out beneath him.

Kabru’s eyes hone on the honeydew slick glossing your slit, hands scrambling for perch on your bracketing thighs as Laios’ settle on his ass. Anticipation builds and flows out of his mouth, rich and thick and in the form of a lashing tongue. Broad and cozy, Kabru sweeps up your cunt, thumbs parting you for the purest taste. Audible sighs fan over your pelvis in time with Laios burying his spit-slick fingers into Kabru’s hole.

A groan vibrates through your hips, Kabru’s electric eyes flashing over the quiver in your thighs as you grind onto his nose. Both hands knotting through his hair.

Fingers prod inside you, curling toward your stomach before scissoring apart just to noisily slurp out leaking wetness.

Burly hands rearrange Kabru again, manhandling him until he’s got his back against Laios’ chest with legs thrown out across the bed. Exhilaration surges through Kabru’s whole body, extremities jittering and whines dribbling down his lips. Slowly, he’s lowered onto Laios’ cock with teeny rasps inspiring you to grab him by the shoulders. Again, sweet lips meet his, but he realizes the ploy quickly: torturous pleasure rips through his gut as you push him back to prime for riding.

Laios’ hand finds your chest, tweaking your nipple while snapping his hips up. Pounding into Kabru’s clenching hole in time that you sink down on the poor man.

Over Kabru’s shoulder, you and Laios swap spit with noisy kisses and if he weren’t sweating ecstasy then maybe he’d find the power to be embarrassed over his desperation to join. Regardless of getting his brains ground into mush by your combined, incessant pistoning, Kabru finds himself giddy to be involved further.

You’re purposeful and elegant; excruciating, tantalizing bounces with nails digging into the meat of Kabru’s chest. As if you could easily tear him apart, only dangling in front of him like a carrot-drawn-horse.

Laios is frantic and overwhelming; hips unrelenting and thick muscled arms belting Kabru against him. Skin clapping skin, moist with sweat, and fat rippling from the impacts of Laios’ fucking. Each thrust into Kabru sends him rocketing further inside you; bulging deep, deep in your squelching cunt.

Contrasting in all ways -- your hands pet and scratch while Laios’ anchor and tug, you moan and mewl while Laios groans and growls. When you’re not kissing your husband you impress downy lips upon Kabru’s chest while Laios tears bruises from his neck with full teeth.

Passion swells each suck and stroke and pap, pap, pap until Kabru’s bursting from the inside out. He keens, body tensing.

“Breathe,” Laios huffs into his ear, voice low and crackling, “Breathe, it feels better when you don’t tighten up.”

Kabru heeds, blowing hot air across your bare chest as he cums, and you coo, “Good boy.”

A slush of your combined juices cascades, soaking and matting Kabru’s pubes. Wetting his and Laios’ balls. Three hard rams and Laios is spilling inside Kabru as well. Pants and gulps echoing around the room.

Reclining against the headboard, Laios slowly pulls your exhausted body off Kabru before slipping his cock out of the man. Each of you is fully aware the hygienic option is to wash yourselves, change the sheets, and maybe even comb through messy heads of hair.

None of you do, though.

Laios, grinning bright and alluring as the sun, has an arm nestled around both you and Kabru to keep you flush against his sides. Your head finds a pillow in your husband’s chest, Kabru copying the motion. Swamped exhales pass between yours and Kabru’s blissed out faces, but only measured breaths pull a serene rise and fall from Laios. Drool even leaks from the corner of Kabru’s mouth, he groans in disgust but can’t manage the strength to wipe it away. Neither can you, exhaustion poisoning you from the knees up.

A careful thumb dabs the spittal away, only to grossly end up smearing it across Kabru’s shoulder when Laios replaces his hand on the man’s bare arm.

“How…” Kabru shudders for breath, “Why…” his eyes flutter drowsily, “Not tired…?”

“I didn’t do much,” Laios reasons (whether he genuinely thinks that or is bluffing, nobody can be sure), voice low as he notices you’re beginning to drift asleep, “Wore yourselves out, though.”

“Still…” Kabru huffs defiantly, yawning against the moist valley between Laios’ pecs, “I… more stamina…”

“Ass,” you drowsily pitch in, eyes closed and lashes stark against your cheeks.

“Ass?” Laios looks down at Kabru.

“Ass,” Kabru yawns again, now capable of slurring full sentences together with his breath sufficiently caught, “First time taking it in the ass. Probably took more out of me than I expected…”

“You should’ve said something,” Laios lours, “Even monsters like Orcs that have sex for pleasure stretch their partners more than I did. It helps prevent tearing. I wish I could’ve seen more mating rituals before getting cursed.”

“You could read more…”

Kabru’s too tired to negate your yawn of a suggestion. He doesn’t need to before Laios mutters again, seconds away from passing out altogether,

“I’ve read about them a lot, I just wanted to see it for myself.”

Year 515. Some days later.

Laios suddenly turns in his throne, angling his body towards Kabru, “You think I can make polyamorous marriage legal?”

“Why?” Kabru’s sure he knows exactly where the king’s head is, he just wants to hear the man say it.

Sticking out his thumb, index, and middle finger, Laios scrunches the digits towards his palm twice, “Aren’t we all getting married?”

“You’ll have to ask your real spouse about that first.”

“I did.”

“Huh?!” that makes Kabru’s heart explode, blood and meat blowing through his orifices. Teasing Laios is easy now that he more clearly understands the man’s motives, but you?

You’re intimidating even after he’s been inside you, he doesn’t know how Laios can so casually ask you something like that (he does though, it’s due to Laios’ many loose screws).

“I already asked about us marrying you.”

“And…?”

“They thought it was a good idea!” Laios shakes off, as if Kabru should have just known you would go along with your husband’s insanity, “So, can I legalize it?”

“Probably,” Kabru settles a hand over his chest, hoping to calm his racing heart (or what remains, anyway), “I’ll look into it.”

“Yay! Thank you!”

~~~

kabru miserablism POV my beloved

beast laios and fae reader and treasure kabru imagery makes me so hard

[oval3000]

Yandere CEO Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warning: Toxic behavior, age gap, Violence, death, daddy kink, very toxic, smut, porn with a little plot, grumpy Miguel. Modern au- ish. The reader understands Spanish.

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Prologue: Your mother was the type of mother who would move from boyfriend to boyfriend. She could never keep a man on her hip for a long period of time, which was one of the reasons why your father was hardly present (he passed away when you were young anyway). Every time she got a boyfriend, she would forget that you're her daughter and would always choose the man over you. When she told you about her new boyfriend, you were over it. Nothing's new here. When you first met Miguel, you honestly didn't bother to learn a lot about him or to remember his name; however, he stuck the longest. You were quite surprised when you saw him more often. When you entered your freshman year of college, that's when she announced that Miguel wanted the both of you to move in with him.

You weren't too thrilled, but you were happy that your mom was getting serious about this. Besides, Miguel seems to be a nice gentleman. As the CEO of a science company, it was very impressive that your mom caught someone like him. He had manners and was humble about his success. He wasn't the type of rich man who would spend a lot of time partying and drinking; he was laid-back and spent more time in his office. You also hardly ever see him smile. Not seeing him smile made you wonder about the relationship between him and your mom. Three months after moving in, your mom's old habits came back. She would go out and party with her friends. She would drink wine every now and then. You know she makes bad choices when she drinks alcohol, so when you saw her coming home late and drunk, you were disappointed. She acted like a high school girl, which made you feel embarrassed. A lot of people would tell you to give your mom a break and that having a child can be difficult, so you shouldn't judge a mother for having 'fun'. But when you were little, she was late to pick you up from school because she was too busy at the mall with her friends; it made you feel unnoticed. Or when she would miss your school events when they gave you an award for what you're good at because she was too hungover from last night's fun; it made you feel unwanted. Or when one of her boyfriends dragged you outside of the house because you didn't want to leave so they could have some 'alone time' and your mom yelled at you for not listening, it made you feel unloved. Sure, moms have a right to live their lives, but they also have a responsibility to care for their children.

Your mother never really had a job growing up; the both of you relied on money from the man she would be with. This caused your grandparents to yell at your mom when you were little, telling her that she needed to grow up and get a job. Your mom would reply by saying that she never chose this life, and now that she's in it, she could do whatever she pleases. So to be fair, it's not that shocking that she got involved with a rich guy like Miguel.

Sadly, you can say that your concerns were right. You were in your bedroom. After a year of staying at a luxurious house, you are now sitting in your new bed, hearing an argument between your mother and her boyfriend downstairs. The first time you ever heard them argue was at the moment Miguel caught your mom sleeping with other men.

"You're working all the time, so obviously I'm going to get bored here!" your mother yelled at Miguel.

"Oh, so sleeping with other men while I provide for you is totally acceptable, my bad," Miguel argued back.

"Please is not like you would do the same!" Your mom's hands were flying in the air.

He pointed to her with his eyebrows forward and his eyes getting dark. "No, I wouldn't! Unlike you, I have morals."

"Really!? How about that day I caught you doing you know what!" Ah, yes. The day she caught him doing something quite interesting. "Oh whatever, I'm going out. Besides I have a new man who knows how to pleasure me." You could hear the front door slam loudly. Did your mom leave? Did she leave without telling you? Did she leave you alone with her now ex-boyfriend? Is Miguel no longer in your life?

You looked out and saw, with the little opening from your door, Miguel going back and forth from his bedroom back downstairs. You really make out what you can see, but it was clear that he was carrying out suitcases. Most likely your mom's things. Does this mean you have to move out as well? Do you need to start packing? You got up from your bed as Miguel was entering back to his bedroom pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did my mom leave."

He turned around giving you the usual expression he has. "Um....y-yeah she did."

"I'm sorry, I'll leave as soon as possible I'll just pack my things." You were about to enter your room when Miguel stopped you.

"No!" You stopped your tracks and turned to him. "no...I mean. Stay. I don't know where your mom left and I won't like it if you're out there alone. So stay."

You gave him a nod, "O-okay."

It's been five months since your mother left you with her ex-boyfriend. You tried contacting her, but all the calls and text messages were left hanging. You have no clue where she went. Did she actually forget about you? Was she so caught up with her own drama that she forgot about her daughter? Yes, you're an adult, but she left you living with a stranger.

The communication between you and Miguel has been dry. Well, they're always dry. At times during dinner, it would be quiet that no one spoke. Most times, while he's busy at his office, it'll just be you eating alone. You immediately felt guilty that you were using his money, so you quickly got a part-time job so you didn't have to rely on him. You don't really plan to live with him forever, right?

One day after you finished your classes, you decided to go on an apartment hunt. You really felt more comfortable moving out. You have no business living there. Luckily, you're able to find a small, affordable place to live. Not ideal, but you'll take whatever seems fit.

It was close to your college and it was perfect for one person, which is all you need.

When you went back, you couldn't seem to hide the happy smile on your face that you couldn't see Miguel sitting on the couch in the living room." What are you so happy about?" He questioned.

His voice caught you off guard it made you jump a bit. "sorry, I didn't see you there. Um...I found a place to live, so I would be out of your hair soon." You placed your book bag down on the floor.

He got up from the grey leather slate couch and walked towards you. His white dress shirt could barely hide all his muscles, especially with a few buttons undone, revealing more of his tanned chest. "You didn't have to do that, mi amor."

"Well, I can't live here forever and you are going to move on soon so-" You couldn't even finish your sentence.

"When I told you to stay, I meant it." His hand caressed the side of your arm. " Estas tan hermorsa, mi amor. (You're so beautiful, my love)." He grabbed your chin to lift your head up so your eyes could meet his. His touch made you feel some type of way. His serious look made you feel something. You shouldn't feel this. This isn't okay. He shook his head lightly, "How can you afford your own place?"

"I- I got a part-time job and I've been saving up." You took a step back, but only for him to follow you more in. "I just don't see why I have to stay here. My mom is not here and the only reason why I'm here is because of her."

"Let me take care of you." He leans in closer to you. "Let me be with you." His last words were a faint whisper that you couldn't hear it well.

"Miguel, I don't think this is appropriate?" You moved your head to the side, walking away from him. "It's best if I move. I don't think this is right."

"Stay." He says.

"No, I can't." You reply to him with his back turned to you.

He turned to you. "Please stay."

You looked around the house. "It's the best for the both of us if I move out of here. One day, you'll get a girlfriend." Miguel closed his eyes and shook his head."..And..I'll get a boyfriend."

He quickly made his eye gaze to look at you and with a swift speed, he walked up to you. "Boyfriend?" His speed made lose your breath a bit. Your body tense up at how tall his structure is. "Is that why you wanted to move out? You have a boyfriend."

You looked at him confused. Why does he seem bothered by this? you thought. "huh?- No. I mean, not now at least. But I will eventually. Just like how you'll get a new partner."

"No. I won't allow that to happen." He grabbed the side of your arms a bit harshly.

"M-Miguel?" You breathed out.

"You aren't moving out. You aren't leaving here, and you're certainly not going to have a fucking boyfriend." Miguel leaned into your ear saying all of these things to you and you felt completely frozen.

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him off a bit so you could get out of his strong grip. You walked away from him so far that you felt the big bookcase behind your back. "What's the matter with you! You're my mom's ex-boyfriend. You're older than me. You aren't the boss of me and you are not going to shove me around like the others!" You felt your eyes get glossy. Your eyes opened wide with now hearing everything you had said. You shouldn't treat him like this. He has given you shelter and food. Without him offering you to stay, you'll be homeless right now. "I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to"

Miguel felt his hands forming a tight fist. "Like the others?"

"No, I don't know what I'm talking about" You palmed your head trying to fix the situation.

He walked closer to you. He didn't break eye contact with you. "Has anyone ever hurt you?" You didn't say anything back which made him frustrated. "Answer me."

You looked up and realized how close he was to you. No matter how far you get away from him, he seems to always find a way to be close to you. "N-no. It's stupid. Just forget what I said. I'll move out and none of this ever happened okay."

"It's not okay! You're. Not. Leaving. Now tell me what you mean by others or I swear I'll do something you won't love." He looked at you with anger in his eyes. He's a very intimidating man. The most intimidating man you ever met. He held your wrist with one of his hands while his eyes were filled with hatred.

You felt your body tremble with his presence." Y-yes. But it wasn't constant. It was just when one of my mom's ex-boyfriends got angry they took it out on me. It's not bad and it's not serious. Please let go of me."

Miguel took a deep breath before letting you go. "I'm not like the others."

"You sure act like them." You said, but instantly regretted it.

"Mi amor, be careful about what you're going to say next. I really, really don't want to hurt you. So please, be a good girl and do whatever I fucking tell you." Miguel lifts his chin up making his statue be more bigger and taller.

"Why can't I leave? Wouldn't it be easier if I left? I won't cause you any more problems if I leave." You plea to him trying to get reason with him.

He walked away from you, throwing his hands around. "Por dios! that's enough about you leaving! I don't want to hear it anymore!" He screamed at you making you feel weak.

"I was wrong about you. I thought that you were good, but I was wrong. You're just like her ex-boyfriends. All of you!Jerks! Now I understand why she did what she did!" You felt your body tremble with how slowly he was walking back to you.

"If you think bringing up that bitch of your mother is going to get me mad then you are wrong. I! Don't! Care! About her! I'm glad that bitch left." He towered over you, "Now, comparing me to those low-life fucking men, you really just want to push my buttons, sweetheart."

"I hate you!" You felt a small speck of tears falling down in the corner of your eyes, feeling it rolling down your cheek.

"Hate me all you want, it won't change the fact that you are staying no matter what. You aren't leaving me." He grabbed both of your wrists pulling you closer to you. He gripped your face, pinching both of your cheeks with his fingertips. "You. Are. MINE!"

He dragged you back to his bedroom. You kept kicking and screaming, but he didn't care, he kept dragging you to his bed. "Please let go of me! I'm sorry!" You begged him to let you go. He opened his bedroom door and pulled you in holding your waist. He threw you on top of the bed. He shut the door and locked it. You quickly pulled yourself together using his pillows as a shield. "Please don't hurt me! Please!" you sobbed.

He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down, sliding you near the edge of the bed. He separated your legs apart and got between them. His eye contact wasn't breaking off with you, following your head movements all around. He grabbed your face again to make you look at him more clearly. "You're gonna behave?" You nodded feeling the hot tears rolling down. "You'll do what I say. You will live here. You will become my wife and you will be mine. End of story."

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The sound of the hot oil and vegetables sizzling filled the entire kitchen. The sound of the front door opening and closing made the chef hurry and place the finished food onto two plates. The chef fixed his white apron and stood by the dining room table with the food ready to be eaten. He saw Miguel waking in wearing his black blazer with his white dress shirt. "Sir, the food is ready."

"Okay, thank you." Miguel took off his blazer letting out a sigh. Work can get complicated for Miguel, so his coming home a little tired was normal. He could hear another pair of footsteps coming closer to him. He looked to his side and saw you standing there.

You stood in front of him with your fingers fiddling with each other. "Hi." You said softly.

He leaned over, giving you a light kiss on the lips. You accepted it. You accepted a lot of things without resisting anymore. He gave a smile and peck on the cheek. "After we eat, I want to take a bath with you."

You nodded as you took your seat on the dining room table. The chef left back to the kitchen to clean up leaving you and Miguel all alone. Not the first time the both of you have been alone, but now it's different. Now you share his bed. Now you give him a kiss on the lips when he leaves for work. Now the both of you shower together and bathe together when he wants to. The first time he wanted to do this, you protested, but it only resulted in him dragging you and stripping you naked.

He hasn't been intimate with you, but you know when that time comes, your cries won't help you.

You've been with him for six months. Six months of you and him sharing a bed together. In total, you've been in the house for two years now. No word from your mother not like you cared anymore. Miguel made you take online college so you don't have to leave the house. As for the part-time job you had, Miguel had to go in and apologize that you can no longer work. Miguel being rich and successful gave him respect for his name so no one questioned him. Miguel brought in his lawyers to deal with your bank account so you can use his instead whenever you feel like it. If you want to buy clothes or shoes online or anything that you like, you can get by using his money. Recently, he's been discussing marriage licenses with his lawyers. He does want you to have a big wedding, but to make it easy, just getting your marriage license and certificate was enough.

Besides, who are you going to invite to a wedding you're being forced to.

"How was work?" You asked.

"Tiring. It would be a whole lot easier if these interns knew what they were doing instead of keeping their hands in their pants. I swear they changed the ways of teaching now. Don't know how they graduated." He swallowed his food, taking a sip of water. "Speaking of which, I talked to the administrator and they will accept you in to finish college there if you want it. Sure, it'll still be online, but you'll get the education you want." Due to your mother relying on her past boyfriends to cover her finances, you didn't exactly have the benefits of choosing your dream college. Miguel insisted for him to get you in. "Although, I don't see why you'll need it. You have me." He has told you that you won't need the degree. Why? Your future husband is filthy rich and intelligent. "How about If I gave two options. Choose to finish college or I'll give two days to go outside every week." It's been six months since you stepped foot outside. You remember the last time you were out in public. It was when you were looking for a place to live. Miguel ended up buying that entire apartment building, flipping it and now owns it. He doesn't really go there or actually work there, he just hired people to run it really. Because of this, people loved him due to his kindness in getting people jobs on top of that he gave people good homes at affordable prices. He's a real hero to the people.

Finish college or go outside two times every week. On the one hand, you want to finish your goal to finish your studies. On the other, you really wanted to go outside and finally breathe some air. what is the catch though? What's the point? If you do finish college, that degree will sit in the closet collecting dust. If you choose to go outside, what else will there be to it? Do you want a little bit of freedom you can get? Or waste your time doing something you're not going to need?

Miguel can see your head thinking of these two options. "If choose to go out, I'll hire two bodyguards to be with you at all times."

What to choose? What to pick?

The water of the bath was warm and it felt relaxing. Your back was resting on Miguel's torso. You could feel his rock-hard abs and chest. Your head rested on one of his pecks. You felt his arms embracing you. You felt the warmth of his body all over you. The last of the bubbles from the body wash went away from your body and his. The sound of water wooshing around filled the bathroom. "I want to go outside." You finally said.

Miguel smiled at you, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

The smile you had never seen before. The smile you thought that never existed on this man was now showing.

You met two bodyguards Miguel hired. They rarely spoke. They hardly made contact with you which wasn't weird. Miguel told them what they had to do while they were in his home office. You waited outside, ready to go out for the first time in six months.

When they finally got out, they took you outside. Miguel kissed you on the lips and told you to have fun.

The two guards were on your side at all times. Even when you were in the bathroom with a bunch of stalls, the female bodyguard went in with you. When any other male figure even turned their heads to you, the male bodyguard gave them a look. The two guards wore sunglasses so you don't even though the color of their eyes.

One thing for sure though, is that they noticed how you didn't buy anything during your trips to the mall or any store. They dressed this to Miguel since they had to report everything you did whenever you would go out.

Eventually, it led to Miguel talking to you. The both of you were in bed getting ready to sleep when you felt his arm wrapping around your torso. "Don't hesitate to buy anything you want. If you want it then get it, mi amor. My money is your money."

If you spend his money it means that you have accepted this fate. You've accepted him and this new life. Are you ready to accept it?

The sun was shining through making everything hot and glow. The beautiful tiles on the floor and little square pots with trees in every other corner and center. People walk by with their shopping bags looking for their store to shop in. The outside mall is probably one of your favorite spots. Look at you, just like your mother. The two guards by your side, walking along with you. The only thing you got was a pretzel. You don't know what you want? Why are you there in the first place?

You offered your pretzal bites to the guards, but they didn't accept it. They're really serious about this then. You ended up seeing a nice jacket on display. It was a jacket perfect for your style. You entered in looking for it. When you finally found it you checked the price and cringed at how expensive it was for you. Do you really need to spend that kind of money on a jacket? Are you even going to wear it?

You let your mind turn off and your body control you. You grabbed the jacket from the rack and made your way to the front counter. The cashier asked you if you found everything okay and you replied yes. When she said the total, you grabbed the card that Miguel gave you and pressed it on the little card reader. When the machine said 'approved' you sighed with how dumb this decision might've been. You walked out of the store and told the guards that you were ready to go home.

Little did you know that one of your mom's friends saw you walking out?

When you got home, Miguel asked you how the trip to the mall was and the guard told them everything that you did. He then asked to see you wear the jacket. You put on the jacket and showed it to him. He got up from his chair and got closer to you. He palmed your cheek and pulled your face to kiss you on the lips. "It looks gorgeous, mi amor. You look gorgeous."

"I might return it." Still not satisfied with the choice you made. Are you ready for this?

"Why?" He questioned.

"I might not even wear it." You said back to him.

"You could wear it to our first date." He said.

He never took you out on an actual date. He's been too busy with trying to get you used to your life. However, since you have been good lately, he felt like it was ready to take you out somewhere special. "Date?"

"Yes. I want to take you. So, tomorrow, I'll come home early, we'll get ready and enjoy ourselves." He kissed your cheek, tracing his lips closer to your ear. "I want our first time to be special."

You had a hard time sleeping. You kept replaying the things he said to you in his office. When you finally shut your eyes, morning already come. Miguel left early for work so you didn't wake up with him by your side. You had your breakfast that the chef prepared. You went back to the bedroom, walking past your old bedroom that you stayed in. Miguel turned it into a regular guest bedroom or an empty bedroom for future 'family members.' You go through your side of the walk-in closet and pick out an outfit (Whatever style outfit fits you). You laid it out on the bed and started to feel a bit nervous.

You never had a man to treat like this. Is it bad? Is it good? He shut you out from the world and forced you to be with him. Should you be grateful? Is Miguel a complete psycho?

You're going to spend a special night with him. Your first time with him. You never thought it would be him. Yes, he's fit and handsome. Yes, he has everything a woman wants. Yes, he's caring and he's caring to you. Are you ready though?

As hours pass you finally got up and took a shower. You get ready, putting on your shoes that match the outfit perfectly. By the time you finished, Miguel already got home and took a shower. You waited in the living room fiddling with your fingers. Picking a bit of skin in your cuticles. If you had a purse, you would clutch onto the straps. Miguel has mentioned that you don't need to carry a purse when you're with him because he has all you need.

When he got out, he was wearing a dark navy blazer with pants that matched, a white dress shirt, and a red tie. His hair was slick back as usual. You stood up. "eres una belleza, mi amor." he said to you.

He took your hand and led you out of the house and into the back of his black SUV. He sat right next to you with his hand on your thigh. On the ride, you hardly spoke. It was just Miguel talking to you about the place you guys are going. You did wonder where he was going to take you.

When you got out of the car, you saw a big helicopter in front of you. The nervousness came back. You never done this before. You clutched to Miguel's arm for comfort. Really, the only comfort you have. "Don't be scared. I'll be right next to you."

He led you inside the helicopter with his help. You put on the headset and strap in the seat belt. Miguel was talking to the helicopter pilot. The pilot is a dear friend of Miguel and is the one to take Miguel wherever he needs. Miguel pointed out the view by your side and told you to look. When you did, you were in awe at how beautiful it was. All the lights blend in. The sunset setting down. It was amazing.

When the stop was made, Miguel helped you out of the helicopter by grabbing your waist and lifting you down. He held your hand as he guided you inside the big fancy restaurant. The restaurant looked like the inside of a Victorian opera house. You won't be surprised if it was one. The hostess said hi to Miguel and took the both of you into a nice room with a nice round table with a white cloth. It was perfectly decorated. All the staff talked to Miguel as if he was a regular here. Again, you won't be surprised if he comes here often. The hostess handed you the menu, even the menu was fancy. The first thing you did notice was the prices. The prices were through the roof. Not even a side salad was affordable. Do the ingredients have magic powers or something? You thought.

"What're you getting?" Miguel asked, placing the many down on the table. The sound of light jazz music played throughout the restaurant and it sounded like it was live.

"I'm getting (Whatever you want)" You looked out trying to take a peek through the red velvet curtains.

"They're playing jazz on the first floor. They bring in jazz players or pianists to play for the people here. Sometimes an orchestra." He said.

You took a sip of your water admiring the architecture of the place that you are in. When the waiter came in, you told him what you wanted, the same with Miguel. Soon, the both of you are eating the most delicious food you have ever tasted in your life.

"Delicious right?" Miguel saw the way you were enjoying it. You nodded in response. "Five years ago, I went here with some business partners to talk about expanding the way science should be taught. When I first tasted the food, I fell in love with it."

"Your past girlfriends must've been happy being here." You said, softly.

"No. I never took any of my ex-girlfriends here. This is a special place for me. I wanted to bring someone who I knew would enjoy it with me forever. That person is you." He went to grab the check that the waiter put down and put his black card inside, handing it back to the waiter.

He took you back out and enjoyed the night and the stars riding the helicopter. He griped on your thigh as you gripped on his biceps. The wind was nice and it wasn't too harsh so it didn't ruin your hair, but the air felt nice on your skin.

Back home, the lights were dimmed. He started to guide back to the bedroom. This is when you felt fear. You forgot about this part. You were enjoying yourself so much that you forgot the other part of the date. He turned your back to him and started to take off your jacket that you just bought. He held your waist sliding his hand up and down.

He then started to shift your clothes off your body until you were left with your undergarments. He turned you around so you can face him. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and began to take off his clothes. He tugged his red tie and threw on one of the armchairs, unbuttoned his dress shirt, unbuckled his belt, and zipped his pants. When he was in his briefs, you felt your heart racing.

He went in and kissed your neck. leaving trails of wet kisses all over your collarbone. You felt his fingers trying to unhook your bra, but you quickly grabbed his arms to stop him. "Wait. I don't think I can do this."

He stopped kissing you and pulled away to look at you. "Why?"

Why? Is he serious? Why? "Because I don't want it." You saw him placing his hand on his forehead and his other hand on his waist. "Because you're my mom's ex-boyfriend."

"Ay, que caramba! Por dios! ya estoy harto que tu siempre mencionas esto!" He yelled at you. "I don't love her! I don't care about her! She never meant anything to me!" He bent over and hovered over you, "When I first met her, I wasn't planning on being with her. I didn't like her. But when she introduced you to me, I realized who was meant for me."

"Me?" Your eyes widened with what he just confessed.

"Yes! you! It was a pain to sleep next to her knowing that you were in the other room. It was a pain when she gave me a kiss on the lips when you were sitting there watching. I felt heartbroken for you. For you to see it." His eyes were lighted, " So, I worked long hours so I could avoid her. Never meant to avoid you. It worked because when I found out that she slept with other men, it was enough for me to kick her out."

"I don't understand?" Why not just kick her out before?

"I have control, I do. But when you are there, I can't help myself." Miguel remembered the day your mother caught him jerking off while moaning your name. It was the first argument they actually had without you there. You were attending your college course classes during all of this, so how would you know this happened. Your mother was angry. More angry at you for catching his attention than her. It made sense since he never showed any actual interest in your mother, especially in bed. She also felt embarrassed as well that he was more interested in you than her. So she told Miguel that she would leave and take you far away from him, but he didn't want that. If he kicked her out then she would take you with her. However, when he caught her in bed with another man it was enough to get back at her. He knew that she was money-hungry for men, that she'd choose them over you. So when she found her new toy, she was already on her way out. "I never slept with her, If that's what you're worried about? I never did. Most nights I slept in the armchair so I wouldn't be in the same bed as her. At times I would sleep on the couch and leave for work early."

"So..this entire time you wanted..." You felt so dumb to not notice all the signs. There were no signs at all.

"You. I wanted you. Now that I have you here. Sleeping in the same bed as me, I'm not going to let you go. EVER! I want to marry you, kiss you, make love to you, have kids with you, grow old with you. I want you. I need you. I'll kill anyone and anything that gets in our way." He went on and kissed you deeply. He moved you more onto the bed.

He yanked your bra off your body. He started to massage your breast with his large hands. He gripped the line of your panties and pulled them down. He ignored you. Ingorned your cries to stop. It was so into his own head, he didn't hear your plea.

He pulled down his briefs, feeling his cock hardened. He spread your legs apart and starts to circle your clit. He inserted his finger inside and started to pump in and out. He felt the inside of your walls. When he did enough to get you wet, he inserted his cock inside you. He nuzzled in your neck, kissing you, and leaving hickeys all over your collarbone and neck. He let his cock rest inside your pussy for a while so you can get used to his size. He knows that he's big, so he wanted to make sure that you take him well. The pain was through as you dug your nails on his back. Maybe you should enjoy it? You should be grateful.

He moved his hips slowly, moving back and forth. Soon the pace began to fasten. The sound of the bed creaking filled the room. The sound of his grunts and moans entered into your ear. "Fuck. Yes..ahh..mhm~" He placed his hand on the sides of your head and thrust inside you harder and faster. "You're gonna make me cum, baby."

His balls were slapping your ass as he lifted your waist off the bed and fucked you in harder than ever. Your thighs were vibrating with how fast he was going. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed in the room. When he felt like he was going to ejaculate, he embraced you into him, and you felt your breast against his own muscle pecks. "Ah! Fuck! Take my cum, sweetheart." He felt his semen injecting inside you. He felt your womb being filled up that some of his cum spilled out and ran down his balls. You held on to him tight feeling your body being filled up by him. Your thighs shook with how hard he fucked you. Your tears were now dried up and your sobs turned into slight whimpers. You felt your face heating up. An older man just took your virginity. You felt ashamed, but good at the same time.

"I'm not done with you, mi amor." He huffed as the last drop of cum left his still-rocked hard cock. He sat down on the bed and pulled you on top of him. You sat between his legs as he spread your legs apart once more. His fingers went down and started to play with your clit. You covered your mouth to stop you from moaning, but it angered Miguel. "Don't! I wanna hear you, querida"

"M-Miguel...Ahh~ mmm..." You felt his fingers flicking your clit and rubbing it slowly. You wanted him to go faster. His other hand went and groped your breast, he pinched your nipple while rubbing your throbbing clit. "It...Ahhh! it feels good, Miguel! Ahhh~....mmm~...faster please."

"Want me to go faster?" the tip of his finger was gently circling your clit that was begging for him to get abused.

"Yes! Mmmm~....Yes! Please!" Your head was thrown back at the feeling of his touch.

"Yes what, mi amor?" He pinched your clit and moved it side to side, slowly.

"Yes!...oh god!...Mhmmm~...ngh..faster!...." You felt your lips opening your pussy with the amount of pleasure you are feeling. The wetness filled all over your area. You felt wetness and some of his cum leaking out to the bed. Miguel's thought of you squirting all over the bed turned him on even more. The bed filled with your juices made him more horny than ever. You felt his rock-hard cock on your back. It didn't help that with his movements he was making towards your clit was making you squirm your back, rubbing his cock in the process. "Please.. go faster...Ahh!...Ngh...yes Daddy~."

With that, he rubbed your clit at a fast speed. "Like this, mi amor."

Your pussy was getting wet and wet with each orgasm you were having. "Yes..Ahh!..ooh!..mmm~!"

Sweat was dripping down your face and body. "This pussy is so good. I'm gonna fucking abuse this pussy. Yes, baby. Yeah~." He slapped your clit a couple times which caused a few leaks to spray out.

"Yes! Yes!~" Your eyes were closed shut. Your breath was losing control.

"Who's this pussy belong to." He slapped your clit one more time. "Is this daddy's pussy baby..yeah. Fuck! Your so fucking wet." He slapped your entire pussy feeling the wetness on his hand. He rubbed your clit even more but would stop just to see it twitch. "This clit is so juicy. This belongs to me. Look at it throb. Fuck! You're driving me insane amor!"

Soon you felt like you were going to explode. You didn't care about the mess, you wanted the pleasure to continue. You arched your back and felt your pussy squirting all over the bed sheets. A pool of your juices formed under your ass cheeks.

It didn't stop. It never stopped. He inserted his fingers inside you again and played with your walls. He wasn't pumping in and out, he was rubbing your walls on the inside. He opened your pussy even more and you felt another gush of your juices squirting out again. The bed sheets were drenched with all your juices. "It's like a waterfall." He continued to rub your red clit more. He would lick his fingers and go on to flick your clit.

"Oh god! Ahh! Ahh!~" You felt his entire palm rubbing it.

"I want to taste you." He grabbed your clit and abused it even more making you squirt all over.

He picked you up and placed you on the armchair. He kneeled down and spread your legs. He saw a good view of your pussy he began to dive in. He licked you all over. "Fuck! It's so good! Don't stop! Don't stop...oh~" you screamed out. You gripped his head and felt his tongue flicking more of your clit. He felt a small spray of your juices landing on his face. He can't get enough. He wanted to drown in it. "Yes! Fuck me! Daddy! Fuck me! This pussy is yours!" Another gush of squirt left your body. Miguel went in and drank as much of it as he could.

He told you to kneel on the floor and you did. He sat down on the armchair and told you to open your mouth. When you did, he shoved his cock inside your mouth.

You looked at him and felt the warmth of his cock down your throat. He bobbed your head up and down moaning. "Fuck!...you like sucking my cock baby...shit!...mmm~...oh fuck." It didn't take too long for him to cum inside your mouth. He pulled out and let the rest of his cum spray all over your face. "Ahh~...shit....look at you...covered with my semen...Open your mouth, mi amor." You did. You showed him the cum inside your mouth. "Swallow it~"

He wanted to cover you with more of his cum so he started to jerk off. "Touch yourself. I want you to touch yourself, mi amor."

You sat on the floor and spread your legs to show him your full view of your sensitive spot. You never touched yourself before. You picked on your clit and felt it warm and wet. You went all out and fingered your clit with your hand while the other was keeping you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head back. "Look at me. I want to see you." Miguel said, feeling his balls bouncing up and down. You looked at him, biting your lip, feeling tears going down with how good the pleasure was. Your legs couldn't stop shaking with how much you're stimulated. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you felt more squirt coming out of you. You came too early that you wanted to insert a finger inside you. So you ignored that cum and shoved a finger inside. You never felt the inside of your walls. The fact that Miguel was watching it was making you act crazy. "Good girl. Fuck...you're such a good girl.." He huffed and swallowed the little bit of saliva in his mouth. He felt cum about to come out, but he stopped himself making him edge.

You played with your pussy, digging inside and rubbing your walls until you found your g-spot. Your legs tremble as your fingers got covered with more of your own cum. A pool formed on the floor filled with pussy juice.

Miguel moaned out as cum sprayed out of his penis and covered your face.

You don't know how long the two of you were at. He came inside you three more times and made you squirt so many times, you felt your legs going numb.

You don't remember the rest of the night. When you woke up, you felt fresh new bedsheets over you. Your skin felt clean and smooth. When you tried to get out of bed, your legs felt so sore that you couldn't budge.

You heard the bedroom door open and saw Miguel in nothing but sweatpants. "Good morning, mi amor" He was carrying a tray of food and brought it to your side.

"What time is it?" You asked.

"It's already noon. I woke up thirty minutes ago." He placed the tray on your lap.

"You didn't go to work?" You took a sip of the water, feeling your body getting hydrated.

"Why would I go to work after the night we both had." He smiled remembering all of the things you both had done. "Last night..was the best night I ever had. I love you."

He loves you. "I don't..I don't remember what else happened..how-"

He let out a small chuckle, "it's alright, cariño. I changed the bedsheets and gave the both of us a bath. When I put you back on the bed, you immediately knocked out. You were so tired mi vida. Next time I'll go gentle on you, I'm sorry."

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

It's been a few days since that night. Everything went back to how it was. Miguel was more physical with you. The two guards were still there when you wanted to go out.

Eventually, Miguel told you that he wanted to take you where he works that way you could have a feel for what he does. He never brought it anyone personal, or anyone at all. So when people saw him bringing you, they were shocked. He showed you all of the building and what exactly each person does. For someone who works at a very large building with many, many people, he has a good memory of the names of his employees.

Miguel had to excuse himself to you when he was called into an important meeting. You went and saw a vending machine outside the cafeteria and decided to get yourself a little snack. You were about to put in some quarters from your pocket when you heard another male voice behind you. You turned around and a guy wearing a lab coat and his name tag on the little pocket of the coat. "Sorry." You moved to the side, but he followed along. You looked to your sides and saw no one around.

"What a pretty girl like you doing here?" The guy said.

"Um..my boyfriend brought me here." You said.

"Boyfriend? Always the pretty ones get taken. So who's the lucky guy? Or are you just lying?" You excused yourself and started to walk away.

He ran up to you, "So what's your name?" He said.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Can't I know the pretty girl's name?" He said in almost an offended tone.

"I have to go." You walked a bit faster, but you could hear his footsteps getting closer to you. You didn't want to cause any trouble, especially at Miguel's work.

You also certainly didn't want to make Miguel mad. Everything was going good, you didn't want to anger him.

Your prayers have been heard because the two guards came and told the guy to basically fuck off. You never thought you would be happy to see your two guards. "Please don't tell Miguel about this. I don't want him to worry. I don't want to cause trouble. Please."

They didn't reply, which was the usual for them to do, but you hoped that they'd listen.

When Miguel finished his meeting, he met up with you and the two of you went back home together.

You thought that the two guards kept the secret because Miguel never mentioned it. He didn't really need to. That guy won't bother you ever again.

While the both of you were enjoying dinner, the doorbell rang. You looked at Miguel who looked back at you confused.

Who's here at this time?

Miguel went to answer it and saw someone he never thought he'd see. "What are you doing here?"

The woman rolled her eyes and made her way inside the home. "You'd think I'll just leave? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers.

You made your way to the front door and saw her. Your mother.

You can tell she changed her looks..again. Your mother looked at you and gave you a disgusted look. "So it is true. You're with her!"

"What are you talking about?" Miguel asked.

"A little birdy told me that she was out shopping at an expensive store." She crossed her arms. "I know she doesn't have money and knowing you and that weird fantasy you had, made me think? Has he really gone all out and started a relationship with my daughter?"

"I'm not your daughter." You said with hatred in your eyes. You had enough of her behavior. Of her stupidity. Of her immaturity.

"Whores don't get to talk!" She screamed at you.

"Don't call her that! The only whore here is you!" Miguel screamed back at her. You went behind Miguel, holding his arm.

"Please! Because of her you lost interest in me! Because of her! Our relationship ended." She yelled.

"Mi amor, go to the room. I'll handle this okay." Miguel told you. You didn't want to but also didn't want to disobey him. You nodded and went to your guy's shared bedroom. You shut the door and climbed on top of the bed.

Miguel stormed up to her with his face fuming with anger. " There was no relationship, you fucking bitch. Me and you never existed. I was only using you to get close to (Y/N). The only one I care about is her. The only one I love is her. You are nothing to me." He saw her hand raising up and swinging forward towards the side of his face, but he saw right through. He caught her hand mid-air, "Don't you fucking dare."

She yanked away from his grip. "I'll tell people about you and her. I'll tell people how you are forcing a young 20-year-old to be in a relationship with you. I wonder how the people are gonna say that a guy in his late 30s is with a young girl without her consent?" She smeared a smirk on her face. "After all, I'm her mother, so people are most likely gonna say 'oh, poor her. She's looking after her daughter from a disgusting man. I Can't believe someone like Miguel O'Hara would do that.' What do you think?"

"I'll make sure to make your life a living fucking hell, you disgusting piece of shit!" His tone was deep and dark and your mom thought she was speaking with the devil.

"Me? Disgusting? At least I didn't masturbate at the thought of a young girl. So let's weigh our options." She looked around at the big fancy house that she used to call home. "You go back to provide for me and I'll let you and that thing I call a daughter to continue dating or whatever the relationship is. Or! I'll tell people about this and ruin your reputation. I mean who would the people believe. Two poor women crying for help or a rich man who got exposed for being a perverted old man."

"So that's what this is all about. Money. What? Did your boyfriend finally realize what a whore you are and left your ass!?" He exclaimed. "You can tell people whatever you want. (Y/N) will never take your side. You heard her! You are not her mother. All the things you had done to her, you really think she will defend on your honor. The only thing she'll do is expose your ass on how much of a terrible mother you are. Uh? Let's see. let's weigh our options." He said mimicking her. " You get the fuck out of my house and never show your face here again. Or we'll expose how you neglected your own daughter for your own benefits and you let other men emotionally abuse her and how you left her alone here with me. I'll tell me people that I gave her a place to live because her own mother was too selfish that she didn't care she was going to make her own daughter homeless."

"She'll listen to me. She'll do what I say. She always does. Deep down, she wants what's best for her mother. What? You think that wasn't the only time she had said that. Please, she throws those tantrums all the time, and in the end, she will always be by my side." She tilted her head," So." She looked at him from top to bottom. "I'll take a check every two weeks. Maybe around 5,000 dollars. Obviously, I'll ask for more later on. That's all I'm asking. Or else, I'll take her away from you."

She turned around with a smile on her face. "Tell (Y/N) I said goodbye."

Miguel couldn't even hear what had been said. Everything was turned into an echo. The fact that she can take you away. Everything Miguel wanted was going to be taken away from him. He felt his blood boil with anger. He felt the hatred increase towards her and he didn't hesitate to grab a mimick mini statue of David sitting on one of the tables. With one swing, he smacked the statue on her head. It caused her to fall down on the floor. Miguel looked at the statue and saw blood on the corner from the base. He looked over on the floor and saw her lifeless body. A pool of blood formed around her corpse. Miguel tapped her with his foot to see if she was still alive, but there was no movement. He didn't freak out. He didn't panic. He smiled. He smiled that she was finally gone.

You waited for Miguel to come in and tell you what had happened. What did she want?

It felt like ages waiting for him.

At last, he finally entered the room. He looked a bit rough. His shirt was half unbuttoned and dirt spots showed on his white shirt. "What happened? What did she want? Why are you dirty?" You questioned. You had so many questions.

"She just wanted some money, I gave her a few hundred dollar bills and told her to never come here again. She was a bit angry but accepted the fact that she couldn't do anything." He explained, taking off his shoes.

"What happened to your shirt and pants?" You pointed it out.

"Well, she stormed off and crushed a couple of the roses out front. I went out and replaced them. That's why I took too long." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.

"She's not coming back?" You asked.

"No. I told her that if she showed her face here again, I'd call the police. I guess that got her scared. It's most likely she's leaving the country or something. She told me she found a new man, so we won't be seeing her." He looked at you and saw how you were tearing up. "Mi Amor? Que tienes?" He got on the bed and crawled to you. He wiped away a tear falling down from the corner of your eye with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's stupid." You couldn't help but let a low sob escape your lips.

"It's not stupid if you're crying. Tell me. I can help you." He said in a concerned tone.

"It's...it's just that...she's my mom. She's my mom and she never cared about me. She never did. Why didn't she love me? What did I do wrong?" You cried to him.

Miguel went over and pulled you into a hug. You sobbed on his chest. He caressed your hair and arms. "Ya mi vida. Forget about her okay. She doesn't deserve your tears. Hey, it's her loss okay. She was never grateful to have a beautiful and kind daughter like you. Any other mother would be happy to have you as a daughter."

"Really?" You looked at him with your glossy eyes.

"Of course, mi vida." He wiped the last tears on your face. "I'm grateful to have you in my arms. You might've not received love from her, but I'll give you all the love and care you deserve. I'll never leave you. I'll love you till the day we die."

You spent the night sleeping in his arms.

Miguel couldn't help but smile at the sight he was seeing. You are finally his. His and forever.

It might've taken a while and a few hardships, but his goal was finally accomplished.

He saved you from a heartache.

He is a hero we all deserve and need.

(That's all. Not sure if I want to continue this story, soooo maybe oneshot?)

[sunderwight]

Scenario where PIDW Bingge had something like the fucked up baby dimension from Fire Emblem: Fates for handling his kids.

For those who haven't played enough Fire Emblem games: in Fates you can hook up various characters who will, once they've bonded sufficiently, get married and have children. Because there is a dangerous war on and nobody has time for childcare, these babies get sent to various pocket dimensions where time moves differently, where they are raised by servants. They then reappear in the story as adults (mostly) who are also just like, barely younger than their own parents. This is of course hilariously fucked up, for even more reasons than what a simple overview can convey, and it's also just kind of shrugged off by the narrative despite the many, many bewildering implications involved.

So I'm imagining Airplane stealing this whole concept and sitting down to write about Bingge sending all of his children away in order to protect them from his enemies or whatever other excuse, creating special nursery dimensions with Xin Mo only to not really spend any time with his offspring at all, resulting in a lot of them growing up extra fast and reentering the story as adults at wildly unpredictable intervals (i.e. whenever Airplane feels like it without having to remember the timelines involved because *waves hand* time passes differently in the different dimensions too). For the daughters, this just gets them married off into alliances (if they're even mentioned at all, because Airplane doesn't want to write incest and there's basically only one reason female characters get mentioned in this story), but for the sons, this usually has them showing up as upstart challengers to their father's throne. With a conclusion, generally, of them getting their asses kicked and then being sent back to their pocket dimensions with their tails between their legs (Binghe killing his own kids would be too reprehensible, after all). Sometimes (rarely) they become loyal generals. One or two have died to fuel revenge arcs. The protagonist halo extends only limited benefits to his kids.

Anyway, Shen Yuan of course reads all of this and absolutely hates it. What do you mean Binghe doesn't even raise his own kids?! What do you mean even their mothers don't?! Shen Yuan understands that Luo Binghe is an important guy with important things to do, but handling it this way makes it impossible to even consistently visit his children on their birthdays! They'd be having birthdays every day because they're all on freaking Narnia time! And of course his sons keep growing up and trying to overthrow him, surely Binghe himself should appreciate that under these conditions, his children are going to see the servants raising them as parents more than some distant emperor they've never met...? Not to mention, if time moves quickly in these dimensions, theoretically Binghe could just stay there with his kids himself and not have to worry too much about things changing in his realm, because only a few months would pass there! He could have it both -- spend plenty of time with his kids and not worry about neglecting his responsibilities! So why doesn't he do that?!

The answer (never actually provided by Airplane) is that Bingge doesn't really feel a strong connection to his children, and because of his reverence for his adoptive mother, he thinks that giving them peaceful lives with simple people to raise and love them is the kindest thing he can do for them. If he could have had an idyllic childhood with his mother in a place where nothing could harm him, he would have never sought power at all.

But of course, Binghe's kids aren't thinking "oh gosh yeah my humble childhood in a magic dimension was much better than starving on the streets!" because that wasn't ever going to be their fate in the first place. Instead they all develop varying complexes about being sent away by their impossibly remote father and his giant harem.

Possible fic ideas involving this setup:

-Bingyuan where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the intended tutor of one Luo Binghe's most troublesome sons. SY arrives in the baby dimension and immediately bonds with the little Luo, gets really mad about the whole situation all over again, and when Bingge shows up for a rare visit, rips him a new asshole about it. Romcom shenanigans ensue.

-Scenario where SV's Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe decide they're ready to adopt, and SQQ figures out a back door into PIDW Binghe's baby dimensions and just sort of, ehm, borrows some of the children he knows had really bad times in the novel (not all of the idyllic upbringings worked out, there were instances of the dimensions being attacked and the servants there being killed and etc). Bingge eventually finds out. Dramatics ensue.

-When PIDW Binghe tries to summon a Shen Yuan of his own to the PIDW world using Xin Mo, it accidentally creates some stability issues with the baby dimensions. Shen Yuan get teleported in and out of these dimensions instead, bonding with the kids there to various degrees, only to be swept away every time Bingge tries to use Xin Mo to find him again. A handful of years later, a bunch of new Heavenly Demon scions emerge as adults with the Luo family's Shizun Complex in full swing, right around the same time that Bingge finally captures Shen Yuan. Hijinks ensue.

[barleyo]

Mama-in-Training.

Enji Todoroki X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: life has been whooping my ass, sorry for my inactivity!! i'm trying to post more often, so i might start queuing up some fics to keep posts kinda consistent :3 anyways, for today, i offer you a humble enji fic

Tags: age gap (early 20s — 50s), breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, use of "mommy" and "daddy", size kink/difference

Wordcount: 2.4k

After his divorce, it took Enji a few years to get back into dating. By the time he found you, all of his kids were well into adulthood and moved out. That was fine with you, it would have probably been awkward to play step-mom to his kids who were the same age as you. 

However, that didn't mean that you didn't want children of your own. You never really brought it up with your now husband, seeing as he already had a bunch of them. You assumed he didn't want any more, that he was tired. That's the thing about age gaps— you're always in a different stage in life from your partner. It's hard to keep up. 

You sat with him in the dining room, quietly eating breakfast together. He was shuffling through a newspaper, his stoic face in tact. 

Well, no time like the present. You decided to bring it up.

You took a sip from your tea cup before placing it down gently on the table. You folded your hands on your lap and leaned forward a bit, trying to get his attention. 

"Enji."

"Hm?" Enji hummed absentmindedly in response, not taking his eyes off the newspaper for a few more seconds. He reached over and grabbed his own cup to take a sip, his eyes skimming across something in the paper before finally putting it down and looking at you. 

"What is it?" he asked, voice gruff and tired. 

"I want a child." You kept your eyes trained on his face, watching as his expression changed. 

His face slowly shifted from confusion to slight distaste. He wasn't expecting that, not exactly. 

He sat up a little straighter and looked at you intently. He wanted to make sure he heard you correctly. "A child? Really?"

"Yes, and I want one soon," you said, picking your teacup up again. You pressed it to your lips, speaking quickly again before drinking. "I'd like more than one, you know."

That last part was news to him. He was already surprised to hear that you wanted one, but two? More? 

He let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other. 

"Why?" He asked bluntly. 

Enji didn't want to say no right away, but his children were already adults. He didn't realize you wanted kids of your own. He always assumed you wanted a simple, quiet life with no little brats to deal with.

"You're getting older, you know," you said, voice teetering on teasing. "Don't you think we should strike while the iron is hot? Before you're too old?"

"Who are you calling old, woman?" He rolled his paper and shook it at you, pointing it at you with a small scowl. "I'm in better shape than most men decades younger than me, don't act like I'm on the verge of death."

"I don't know," you said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair with a smug, little grin.

You were trying to rile him up, and it was working. Enji was not a man who held up well to your incessant teasing. It was rather easy to get a rise out of him— a fact that you often exploited. 

"You aren't exactly in your prime anymore, are you?"

Damn you, he thought. He stood up, hands splayed on the table, eyes narrowed. 

"Who's not in their prime? I'm doing just fine. I'm not even that old, you know that," Enji said in an overly defensive way. It was adorable, watching him get so worked up over a little prodding. 

"Then chasing around some kids should be a breeze for you," you retorted sharply, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way. "C'mon, don't you miss having kids in the house? It'll be fun!"

He let out another, more exasperated sigh. Your persistence was a trait he had become accustomed to. Whenever you wanted something from him, you didn't stop until you got it. It was cute, but god, he hated how weak he was for you.

Enji was quiet for a few moments, staring at you as he considered it. He knew that if he kept arguing, this conversation would go on forever. "Fine," he finally relented. "We can start trying."

You clapped a few times in celebration, childishly whooping and cheering over your little victory. 

"I knew you'd agree!" You paused and looked over him, a mischievous smile forming. "So, theoretically, we could start right now?"

Enji raised an eyebrow at you as that little grin appeared. He knew that look. "Now?" he repeated, an almost imperceptible smirk of his own began to form. "Right this second?"

You nodded and he scoffed, patting his thigh, thick with muscle and strength. 

"Come here, you eager thing."

You did so gleefully, footsteps speedy as you went to sit on his lap, legs hanging over his thighs as you face him head on. You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

He watched as you practically rushed over to him, settling comfortably in his lap. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. He leaned forward, lips ghosting against yours before he spoke.

"You really do want a kid, huh?" he asked, smirk fading ever so slightly as reality sunk in.

Enji was battling with himself mentally. He wanted to make you happy. His personal motto had become "anything for you, dear," but did he really want to start over with another plight of snot-nosed kids? He hated to face his own age, but he was getting up there. Could he—?

He thoughts were interrupted by you answering his question, a soft, needy look on your face. 

"I do. I really do, Enji. Don't you think I'll make a good mommy?" You braced your hands against his chest, eyes wide with excitement. "I think I'd look good pregnant too, with a cute lil' bump, eh?"

Fuck. Fuck, he really liked that image. Any doubt that was lingering was replaced with you. Full and pregnant. Tits swollen and heavy, face glowing. 

A shudder rolled down his body and a low rumble escaped his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he was this turned on. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, nearly pulling you against him completely. He began placing slow, purposeful kisses all over your neck and jawline.

"Yeah?"

He couldn't form any words outside of that, his head foggy with only his desire to fill you up present. The grip he had on you was a little harsher than usual, fingers digging into the fat of your ass through your pants. 

You pressed your lips against his roughly, hands carding through his hair. 

"I want you to fuck..."

You spoke only when you pulled away for gasps of air, sentences coming out breathless and choppy. 

"...all of your cum into me. Want it all, gotta make sure it takes."

He shivered again, your dirty talk getting to him more than he'd like to admit. He let out a low growl as your hands moved through his hair, his grip on you only getting tighter. 

He bit down on your lip, pulling you back into another rough kiss. His hands continued to move over your thighs, slowly going further and further up until he was palming your cunt through the layers of fabric covering you. 

"Such a dirty mouth," he muttered against your lips. "You really want it, huh? I'll give it to you. I'll fill you up, baby. Whatever you want."

His hands began to slide over your body, caressing your skin gently. His touch continued to linger over you, slowly making its way down lower to where you wanted it most. His fingers began to rub and tease at your core through your underwear, his hand messily shoved down your pants. His tongue licked roughly at the sensitive flesh of your neck. He made a point to leave marks, wanting others to be able to see that you belonged to him. 

Soon enough, your full belly would be a mark of his upon you. Hickies would suffice for now, though.

"You're all mine," he said gruffly, his tone possessive as ever. "I'm gonna give you everything you want, baby. Give you everything you need."

Normally, you enjoyed the chase, the teasing. Making out and heavy petting was all a part of the fun, on most days. But not now. Not when you knew exactly what you wanted— and what did you want now? 

Non-stop loads. 

You shimmied on his lap, kicking your pants off impatiently and staring up at him. 

"I want you, and I want you now," you said, trying to sound authoritative only to come off as needy and whiny. "Stop playing around, Enji

He chuckled at your attempt to sound like you were in charge, his lips curling up into that smug, confident smirk. 

"Bossy today, aren't we?" His other hand coming up to rest on your waist. His grip was still as harsh as before. "So eager to be knocked up, you've forgotten how to ask nicely."

You groan exasperatedly, resting your head against his chest. "Daddy, please. Don't tease."

"Oh, fuck." He inhaled sharply, fingers rubbing small circles on your hipbones. "You know I love when you talk like that."

That one word was all it took. 

You were always able to push the right buttons, to get him to do what you wanted. He pushed your head back, hand cupping your cheek, wanting to see your face.

"That's better," he said, his voice low and rough, almost a whisper. "Begging like that, baby." 

Before you could respond, Enji had slung you over his shoulder, dragging you off to the bedroom. 

He slowly repositioned himself until he was settled between your legs, his broad chest pressed to yours. He looked down at you, taking in just how needy you were. He knew you wanted this just as much as he did, if not more, and he was going to make sure he gave you what you needed. 

His mouth was back on your neck, more marks being left on your skin. He spoke between sucks and bites, the words muffled.  "You're still so eager, baby. All for me."

What round was it now? Three? Four? You couldn't tell. Your legs were cramping from being pushed to your chest for so long. Your greedy little hole was full of cum, dripping onto the silky sheets beneath you. Your mind— a mushy mess. 

You felt Enji push his cock back into you, rubbing the head over the leaking mixture of slick and seed that was drooling out of your slit. 

You winced a bit at the stretch. No amount of prep could ease the burning stretch of his girth. Your walls were snuggly closed around him. 

It was always like this, he was huge, after all. A brief look at his sturdily built, tall figure would give anyone ideas. Obviously, a giant man like him had the cock to match. Every time felt like the first time with him, with the sharp pinch of him sliding in, but God, it was worth it. 

He always felt a sense of pride when he took you like this. He was the only one who could make you feel like this, and he knew it. The only one who was allowed to satisfy the need inside you. His ego only grew the further he sunk in, watching your body swallow all of him yet again. 

"Jus' one more, baby. Okay? Think you can take one more?"

His large body caged you under him, trapping you completely, strong hands keeping your legs firmly folded. 

When you didn't answer, he huffed and brought his calloused thumb over your clit. Hee rubbed rough circles over the nub. 

"You're such a sensitive thing," he mumbled, collecting some of the slick that dripped down the seam of your thighs, right next to your cunt. He smeared the wetness over your clit, smoothing his movements. "So little, too."

"S—shut up," you managed to spit, mouth hanging open as you felt him ram sharply against your cervix, kissing the tip of it with his cock head. 

"But it's true."

Meaner than a snake, Enji was. The way he pushed one of his hands down on your lower stomach made you see stars. Every stroke felt deeper than the last— harder. More targeted. He was focused on hitting your deep, spongy weak spot with each of his thrusts. 

"How are you going to handle carrying my child, huh? Tiny thing like you. My cock already spilts you in half, the hell are you gonna do with a child of mine?" He was looking down at you, stoic expression tinged with a hint of amusement. "You'll break right in half, baby. Y'aren't strong enough for it."

You huffed, a soft moan slipping through your mouth as he continued to fuck into your tight chasm like a crazed man, little regard for how rough he was being with you.

"I dunno," you mumbled, bottom lip bit tight enough to almost draw blood, "but I know I can handle it. Was made to be yours, daddy. I can take it. I gotta."

His grip on your thighs grew more intense, his hands digging into the soft, pillowy skin. He liked when you said that. He liked that you needed him, that you needed to mother his children.

Enji's teeth tugged at your neck rougher than before, his tongue licking the assaulted skin soothingly. It was a dance of sorts— sharp teeth marking you, marking you bruise and bleed, with a gentle tongue to clean you up right after. 

"You really do want it, huh? You need it so bad," he said between rough kisses. "Well then, let's hope it takes."

With that, he braced one hand beside your head, tightly gripping a pillow, and the other leaving bruises on your thigh. He came for the final time, adding to the sopping, sloppy mess that previous rounds left in your hole. 

"Ah, fuck. There you go, mama," he groaned, voice tight with satisfaction as he spoke the nickname. "Now, all there is to do is wait."

He kept his cock sheathed inside of you, plugging his cum up in your walls.

"...Unless you think another turn is needed. Fifth time's a charm, isn't it?"

[anifever]

omggg I love ur Lottie!reader hc’s! Could you do one where the reader acts like Tiana? A super independent, great cook and no-nonsense gal with good humor is someone I think the whole gang would rlly love

Gang w/ a Tiana!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : Curtis gang with a reader who’s like Tiana from ‘Princess and the Frog’

A/N : Why does my theme mess up when I do requests kms. Once again, sorry if these are a bit short <\3 I have so many other requests I’m working on so bare with me

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🐸 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ IMO, he’d be the best choice for someone with that personality to be paired with

୨ The gang is terrified of pissing either of you off

୨ My ongoing hc/scenario of him = throwing flour at each other whilst cooking together continues to hold up

୨ He thinks you’re the perfect mix of sweet with a bit of sour

୨ If you have a little restaurant, etc; he’s always gloating about it

୨ He’s honestly a little shy about it like one of his coworkers asks abt you during a lunch break and he’s just like “Well….🤭🤭🤭”

୨ You guys both share your parents recipes with each other

୨ He’s the one who’s always cooking for his brothers/the guys, so it’s helpful when he gets a bigger range of things to make

୨ Also helpful that you offer to cook with him or just do it yourself sometimes

୨ He gets pretty worried when he notices you overworking yourself (ironic.)

୨ You both try to help each other through it and take some burdens off one another’s shoulders

୨ You’re both super independent; power couple

Two-Bit

୨ You love to cook, he loves to eat

୨ You’re his saving grace

୨ You also match his sense of humor which makes you the full package in his eyes

୨ He can’t compliment you without you brushing him off and he hates it LMAO

୨ He just wants to butter you up but you’re so humble

୨ Then again, he gets all shy when you start sweet-talking him back

୨ You spoil him with food constantly

୨ “Baby, you’re an amazing cook ‘n all, but I’m gainin’ a bit of a belly-” then you just shut him up by stuffing his mouth with more food

୨ You don’t gaf about his weight you just like coddling your funny lil’ handsome guy

୨ Like I said, he cannot stop complimenting you, like it’s impossible for him

୨ He thinks you’re perfect and feels the need to constantly rub it in other people’s faces that they don’t have someone like you

୨ Like he bagged a woman who can cook, is funny, nice, gorgeous, and stays humble about all of it????

୨ It will forever be his greatest achievement

Steve

୨ You keep him in check

୨ He can be such a smartass sometimes but he learned not to mess around with you fast

୨ Just sits and watches you cook sometimes because he’s so mesmerized by it

୨ He debates on stealing ads for your restaurant he sees around town since he’s so proud of you but then he decides it’s probably bad to lower your promo

୨ He says “There’s my favorite chef 😋” with the dumbest grin on his face whenever he sees you after a while of being apart

୨ If anyone dares to say something bad about you or your food, etc- his ass is NOT having it

୨ His smart-ness comes in handy in cases like that

୨ Like I said, you can handle your own and he’s lowkey giggling and kicking his feet on the inside whenever he gets to witness it

୨ He’s like yes!!!! That’s my girl!!! 😣😣

୨ Borderline moans when he tastes something new of yours and you can’t tell if he’s playing it up or being serious

Dallas

୨ You walk him like a dog I’m crying

୨ You’re really kind most of the time, but he loves that you’re also able to handle yourself

୨ Like going to Buck’s together and some guy is being weird, he thinks he’ll have to step in but you handle it just fine on your own

୨ He wanted you to have his children after that.

୨ Anyways, you’re also really caring over him

୨ Not to mention super loyal which he’s not used to

୨ You always clean him up after fights (not without scolding him tho)

୨ Once again, if you own a place yourself or at least work somewhere, he’s always showing up out of the blue

୨ He reluctantly agrees to be on his best behavior when he visits

୨ That being said, when he hangs out with Pony and Johnny, he’s always bringing them there for food

୨ He tries to flirt with you whilst you’re on-job and you do not have any of it

Soda

୨ He’s always ready to be a taste-tester whenever you try a new recipe

୨ He’s just so supportive I’m sobbing I love him

୨ You pack him lil’ sweets for him to snack on during his shifts at the DX

୨ He watches you passionately talk about cooking/your job with hearts in his eyes

୨ Whenever girls come into the the DX to flirt with him, he takes the chance to promote your business/the place you work LMAOO

୨ He worries a bunch when you start working more than normal

୨ He tries to get you to take breaks but then you’re like “?? You do the same thing with your job” and he’s just like “Ah.. well, you got me there.”

୨ Realistically though, he gets where you’re coming from about “the only way to get what you want is through hard work” and relates to it

୨ That still doesn’t stop him from pouting when you seem more tired than usual when you take longer shifts, etc

୨ You start helping him and his brothers out financially once you start making more money

୨ He cries.

Johnny

୨ You try to help him with his confidence since you’ve got a lot of it yourself

୨ You make him feel secure

୨ You’re also a pretty big inspiration for him

୨ He doesn’t eat great considering his living conditions other than when he goes over to the Curtis’, so he’s basically getting full course meals when he’s with you

୨ You encourage him to get multiple helpings/take a few bites before the food’s done but then scold the other guys when they try to LMAO

୨ “Oh, so Johnny can eat it early but not us??”

୨ “What- was I supposed to let him STARVE?!?! 🙄”

୨ You care about him so much and always make sure he’s away from his parents as much as possible

୨ You’re aware he can also handle himself the same way you can, but you’re still protective over him nonetheless

୨ You have confronted his mom before and desperately tried to keep your usual down-to-earth and kind demeanor, but it didn’t work. At all.

୨ You and Two-Bit are one in the same when it comes to that woman

Pony

୨ He is SCARFING your food down

୨ I’m dead it’ll be gone so fast, he can’t help it

୨ Loves that you’re so headstrong since he’s the same way

୨ Anyways, imagine he brings home a small box filled with something you made him from school & Steve’s like “Where’d you get that from?? 🤨” and he gets all smug about it

୨ He refuses to let him have even the smallest bite

୨ You get along really easy with everyone and he loves that about you

୨ You’re always sticking up for him if he’s getting made fun of at school, on the street, etc

୨ It makes his lil’ heart hammer in his chest

୨ He visits you during your waitressing shifts

୨ Like he studies and does homework up at the counter while you work and he takes glances up at you every now and then AHHHHH

୨ He also probably does yours for you depending on how busy you are

୨ You repay him with food on the house though 😊

୨ Darry’s always asking him where he’s been and he’s like “… the diner in town…🧍” and he’s still suspicious but he’s just glad he’s not getting into trouble

[dotster001]

i was gonna make this a comment but smthn told me this was gonna be long.

SORRY FOR THE LONG-NESS OF THIS ASK

BUT DOT- THINK ABOUT YAN DILF JADE.

who knows if his ex wife was murdered or not, oh well! 🤭 best not to dwell on it because it makes the twins sad :(

see? (🧍🏻🧍🏻)

…anyways

but here me out (this is me going coco bananas. full on psycho mode) maybe the first time he saw you was at a RANDOM party that a friend of yours hosted.

blah blah mutual friend of a friend and that long friend family tree stuff

but maybe you slithered away to the dog, or were tasked with helping a baby (more like someone threw the baby at you in order to dance)

or you’re with the other room for the children that the party provides (this is like a really rich friend. like mega mansion. crazy rich asians kinda thing)

but ugh he’s there with his dreadful beautiful wife and his wonderful children. and his wife is already leaving to grab a drink and he thinks their children shouldn’t get a glimpse at whatever tom-foolery parties like these will lead to.

so in they go! (maybe this was years ago when they’re toddlers)

but then he sees you swarmed with babies. the nanny took a break and left you in charge and you’re fighting back babies with one of those roll-pop lawn mowers-

ARGHHH ONE JUST SPAT ON THE END OF YOUR RENTAL DRESS DAMNIT.

jade is utterly beside himself with laughter, amusement, and everything of the sorts and creates flirty small talk. and oh?? what's this? his wonderful bundles of joy seem to have found a liking to you? how precious (they’re clawing and climbing you like a jungle gym) jade takes a note of that!

they don't even like their mother that much , simply tolerating her. but jade can tell that his kids got good taste!

he lowkey interviews reader (without them know oops!!) and while yes, their beauty was what drove his interest, second being their personality (you have to be attracted to someone to give them a chance!)

and the twins were the cherry on top!

and conveniently you say where you work (rookie mistake) while he tells you he’s a humble business man… don’t ask what for tho cause that’s a super family secret 🤭

but he's planning and scheming and charming his way into your life and he’s in it for the long run because eels are patient. it just sucks that jade is even more patient, like a saint if you would

^^accurate depiction of saint jade

^^and this is jade when he gets questioned for his wife’s uh oh 🤷🏻🤷🏻

maybe she drank too much at a party and fell over the side.

maybe there was a targeted hit meant for jade but they got the wrong one.

maybe a classic batman scenario but jade survived and is throughly traumatized (same with his kids, i mean look at them!!🧍🏻🧍🏻 they’re so torn up that it just breaks his heart😿)

but he’s making chance encounters rather… commonly. (he had reader stalked for a good few years as he was planning everything. just to make sure he likes them& they keep it interesting.)

just... some thoughts about dilf jade leech and his hell spawns hehe (when the trio visited your work they managed to leave your section alone... so it looks like you were in the eye of the hurricane)

im gonna read your other stuff about dilf jade now because AHHHH

Angry at my boss, so I decided to see if there was anything in my inbox to cheer me up. Woo hoo!

In reference to this

Cw: light Yan!, implied stalking, Jade's a freak but if you don't already know that then you aren't paying attention

I can only imagine that, after the party, since you interacted with so many kids and parents that night, they all kind of blurred together. And it's not until, after he visits your place of work, and you chat over text for a while, and you have a real date, then invites you back home for an after date drink, do you start to remember. And that's only because the twins are scamps and stayed up past their bedtimes, and they are staring at you with eyes you remember.

Obviously, you are gonna chalk it up to a coincidence. "Oh my god! You know so-and-so, right? I think I met you at a party a few years ago!" He laughs, and plays along, oh my god,.yeah what a really good coincidence.

Meanwhile, the twins share a look, because Dad has talked about you every day since Mom died, so they know he's lying. Hell, when you aren't here, they already call you mama/papa. But, they are their father's kids, so they are never going to say anything.

One date turns to two turns to three, turns to a year of dating. It's time to meet the family. You know Jade has a twin, but they've taken different paths in life.

So when Dilf Floyd Trudges up the driveway with his six adopted kids, four of whom are sprinting around the house and lawn and destroying Jade's home, two of whom are under Floyd's arms like suitcases, you're in for a culture shock.

When you first meet him, he seems incredibly grumpy. He's got salt and pepper stubble, the baggiest outfit, though you get the feeling it's designer, no matter how slouchy it is, his hair is slicked back, making the grey streaks look neat against his otherwise messy look.

He tosses the kids and yells at them to go play with their cousins, then he rudely shoves past you. Jade stops him with a hand on his shoulder that appears gentle, but if you had felt the full force of it, you'd have landed on your ass. He hissed at Floyd, through a smile, to greet his new fiance. There's a tense moment where they stare at each other, then Floyd storms over to you, and presses a ticklish kiss to your cheek, before muttering, "Welcome to the family," then storming to his room and locking himself in for the night.

The next day it's like he's a different person. He makes breakfast for you and excitedly asks you about yourself, wanting to know everything about his future sibling. Eventually he pours you a glass of what you know is Jade's most expensive wine, which he has been saving for a special occasion, and you finally get the courage to ask about the night before, and he laughs and says he was tired from the trip. Wrangling six kids on an airplane is exhausting, you know?

You decide to ask him about little Jade, and Floyd's stories of childhood charm you so much that you don't notice Jade's brooding presence.

Not that Floyd minds. Yeah, he got off to a rough start with you, but he gets why Jade likes you. And Jade only has two parentless kids, he has six. So his kids need you more than Jade's do, right?

Will the dad's eventually drag the kids into this fight? Absolutely. Those kids have Mafia parents, they have plenty of acting training. They will be pulling those heartstrings of yours 😊

[mayajadewrites]

could've been you: aizawa x reader x hawks

You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy. Nothing could go wrong... right? relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader warnings: some chapters will be NSFW, they will have a warning on them in bold.

CHAPTER ONE

The air reeks of teenagers and sweat. As you walk through the long hallway, you glance at the photos on the walls. They're filled with photos of Pro Heros - All Might, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist.

You sigh when you see your own portrait. You look younger, probably just a couple of years after you graduated from UA.

Mirage the nameplate read.

"UA is so happy to have you back, Mirage!" Nezu caught up to your space in the hallway.

"Please, use my real name. You've known me since I was a student myself." You shifted the weight of the boxes in your hands.

"Always so humble. Anyways, your room is this way. Thank you for offering to stay on campus, sometimes these students get into trouble."

"Who would say no to free housing? And it'll be harder for me to be late." You watch as Nezu opens the door to your room. It's more like an apartment - you have your kitchen, living room, bedroom, a 2nd bedroom and a bathroom. It looks like it was newly constructed too.

"You'll be teaching the Strategy class starting next week. I want you to observe a few classes before your first official day as a teacher though." He hopped on your counter to get closer to your eye level. "Though I'm afraid what you'll think when I tell you who the instructor is."

You start to unpack a box as you hear Nezu's words. You let out a light laugh as you pull out some of your trinkets.

"As long as it's not Eraserhead, I'll be okay."

Silence.

"I said, as long as it's not Eraserhead." You turn your body to face Nezu. You furrow your eyebrows as you stare at him. "This where you say, 'Of course it's not him! It's Endeavor!'"

"Endeavor doesn't teach. He has no patience for his own children, let alone students he doesn't know."

"Nezu. You're telling me I'll be observing fucking ERASERHEAD teaching?! Who even let him teach in the first place?"

"I did. He is a fine instructor, the children love him."

You roll your eyes. You and Eraserhead have always had a tough time getting along. Always disagreements, always arguing, never compromising.

"Let me remind you of the last time I saw Eraserhead." You used your quirk, mind manipulation, to show Nezu your last memory of Eraserhead.

Mirage. Quirk: Mind Manipulation.

Your quirk allows you to show a person an image you control using mind manipulation. You can put them anywhere in the world, they will think they're there. You can also pull a memory from their mind and place them back to that time. The drawback is you can only do this on one person at a time, however everyone in the vicinity will see the same thing the designated target does.

You, Eraserhead, and Endeavor were patrolling the city when a group of villains decided to cause destruction and havoc on an elementary school.

It was mid day, a weird time for villains to be out.

"Eraserhead, use your quirk on the one in the middle!" Endeavor said as he blasted flames out of his hands. "He's the leader!"

"No, he's not. It's the one that's in the back - he's been saving his power."

"Endeavor is right, he's been calling all the shots. What leader would just lay back and let their team do all the work?"

"A lot." His eyes turned red as he stopped the man he was targeting from using his quirk.

"Eraserhead, why can't you just fucking listen?" You tried to get into the mind of the leader, but he had something that was keeping you at bay. Was it his quirk? "Please, use your quirk on him! I can't get into his head!"

But Eraserhead didn't listen.

He never did.

And it cost you to be in a coma for a few months.

The villain used some sort of dark magic to surpress your quirk, sending your brain into shock.

Everything went black.

You waved your hand to bring Nezu out of the vision you brought to him. "It was because of HIM that I was out cold for months."

"I'm sorry, but this is what's going to happen. We don't have many teachers here as it is, and Aizawa is at your level. You're both very strong."

"I should take that as a compliment, right?" You scoff. "Send me what room he teaches in and I'll be there at 8AM when classes begin."

"I appreciate you're willingness to cooperate." Nezu nods, jumping off the counter and walking to the door. "And I'm sorry that you experienced that."

You only nod as he shuts the door gently. You let out a sigh as he left, letting the anxiety that filled your body go. You learned this through therapy since you experience anxiety through physical symptoms.

"Breathe." You murmured. Time to start unpacking.

___________________________________

Your mattress and other furniture was delivered so you set everything up. Your bed looked like a cloud with muted earthy tones on your comforter and around your room.

You felt your stomach grumble as you flattened out your blanket. Guess it was time to grab some food. You slip on a pair of leggings, a thin strapped tank top and a cropped zip up sweatshirt that hands off one of your shoulders as you zip it. You slide your feet into your chunky tennis shoes and head out the door.

You're still familiar with the campus at UA, even though some of the buildings have been redone. You made your way to the cafeteria where you see a few Pro Heroes talking at a table. They must've just finished a demonstration or something.

"Mirage?" You hear Endeavors voice boom. You couldn't not hear him.

"That's me." You walk over to the table he was at. He looked... happy to see you.

"I never thought I would see you again. We've needed you, villains are at an all time high."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." You look up at him - he's so much taller than you. Usually people are put off by Endeavor and his personality, but you have a soft spot for him. "I'm teaching here starting next week."

"No way!" You hear another recognizable voice. Present Mic.

"Yamada!" You ran up to him and gave him a squeeze. "I haven't seen you in years!"

"You look great! Your body looks so much different than high school, your curves are unbelievable."

Yamada has always been once to compliment women - he's never scared. You're also not stick thin like a lot of female heroes these days. Your body has muscle, but you're soft at the same time. You have full, plush hips and thighs and an ass to match. You're also blessed in the chest area, but you cover that up the best you can.

"Yamada, can you please go a couple of minutes without objectifying women." Endeavor rolled his eyes.

"Lighten up, Enji. He was just giving a compliment." A new voice chimed in. You saw a man with dirty blonde hair look your way, a pair of dark red wings behind him. "My name is Keigo, Hawks is my hero name." He held out his hand. He's cute.

"You must be one of the newer Pro Heroes all of the women in town are talking about." You shake his hand and look into his honey colored eyes. "You have quite a fanbase."

Keigo chuckled, his teeth shining as he smiled. It was a warm, comforting smile that you needed after reliving the last time you saw Eraserhead.

"Would you like to eat with us? We just finished introducing ourselves to the students since it's the start of the year." Keigo patted the seat next to him.

"Sure, let me grab some food first." You turn to the food stations and grab a chicken sandwich and fries. You feel Keigo glancing at you as you walk through the cafeteria, careful not to stare too hard.

Cute.

You, Enji, Yamada and Keigo talk for what feels like hours. Catching up, sharing stories and getting to know one another. Enji told you about how his youngest son, Shoto is enrolled at UA. He said he shows a lot of promise, and that he's trying to rebuild a relationship with him.

Yamanda went on and on about his online dating life, and how he's having trouble finding his 'one true love'.

Keigo is full of smiles and laughs, which was so refreshing.

"Can I walk you back to your room?" Keigo jogged to catch up with you as you walked toward the dorms.

"What, you think a villain is gonna pop on me on my walk back?" You giggle. "Sure you can." You start walking in sync together.

"So, what's your quirk exactly?" He tilts his head down as he walks.

"Mind manipulation. I can make someone see anything I want them too. I also can manipulate objects too, but I don't use that as much."

"So are you making me see one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen or is this my reality?"

How is he so smooth?

"I'm not using my quirk right now, scouts honor." You put two fingers up and giggled. "That's me." You point to your door as you approach it.

Then you spot a tall, dark haired man standing near your door, leaning on the wall.

Fucking Eraserhead.

[mediumgayitalian]

part one

———

Nico’s memory is…screwy.

The Lethe warped things, but the body stores memory in strange ways. The only image he has of his mother is the gentle swish of her skirts as Zeus incinerated her, the echo of her fond scoff and curled r’s. Even that memory was shown to him. Most of his childhood memories are from the Lotus Casino, really, running after Bianca through the flashing games and then running away from her, laughing, when she forbid him from driving on the racetrack. His sister is the centre of his memories. He keeps them under lock and key, buried in the same place he keeps Mythomagic stats and his constant string of fear.

(The key is rusted and the lock is loose. He sees her in every mirror, now, in every mirror. She was pretty. Beautiful. He always thought so. She hid herself in too-large sweaters and shapeless skirts, crooked stockings and her floppy green hat. Kept her hand curled around his, turned away from the boys who smiled at her, touched her shoulders. She was his entire world, and he is beginning to realize that he was her world, too, only she had no one to care for her. It makes Nico ache to think about, the tears he sometimes saw welling up in her dark eyes, the creases in her angular, beautiful face. Her pain is as familiar in his reflection as the shape of her nose, identical to his.)

(Gorgeous, Will called him.)

Warped as his memories are, Nico isn’t completely stranded — he has dreams.

His dreams, although rare, are clear. He is a spectator of himself, and voyeur of his own life. He does not remember Venice, does not remember his bedroom, the country side, the kitchen table. But he remembers every dream he has.

Including, embarrassingly, a lecture that had both him and Bianca red-cheeked and scowling.

“You-a smart, bambina,” Maria had said to Bianca, squeezing her chin with flour-covered hands. “Una belladonna giovane, si, Niccolò?”

Nico had snickered into his hands, legs kicking, looking at his sister cross-eyed with his tongue sticking out.

“Bianca è una picchia,” Nico had teased, repeating his mother’s words from the last time she’d been scolded. “Una piantagrane!”

Bianca’s eyes had flashed. “Nico, I’m gonna sell your stupido toys —”

“Sonno worries forra my Bianca,” Maria had interrupted, eyebrows raised. “Ragazzi comma running. But you, Niccolò.” She dragged him back by the cuff of his shirt, cutting off his escape attempts. ““È importante, capisci? Lookame. Niccolò. Lookame.”

He spent a lot of time fidgeting, he remembers. Bouncing off the walls.

His mother was patient.

“You gonna be uno marito, un giorno. Gonna marry a nice-a girl. You gotta sai come fate.”

He wakes up from the dream embarrassed.

He knows why it was brought from the depths of his subconscious. He’s not dense. But he wishes, as he rips the sheets off his sweaty body, that it had stayed in those stupid trenches.

His mother’s raspy, cigarette-smoker voice twists with Will’s smooth rumble: You gonna be uno marito, one day. I’ve had a crush on you for forever.

He buries his burning face in his knees. What is Will’s problem. Who says that?

Nico has had crushes before. Telling Percy made him nauseous for three days. And Will just — said it. Said it!

He rolls onto the floor, refusing to think about it any longer. He has things to do today. Children to humble. He cannot afford — distractions.

Of course, he is distracted anyway.

He hears the kids in his sword fighting class whisper to themselves. They usually do, but there’s an audible difference to it; they sound more like the giggling naiads than nervous kids. Nico spends all three of his classes tense as a rod, stiffer than he usually is a suffering for it.

He dismisses each one of his classes early.

By lunchtime, he’s exhausted. He’s tempted to skip all together, but yesterday he ran out of snacks, and if he skips two days in a row Will’ll come marching, which is the last thing he needs. He lingers in the amphitheatre, biting the inside of his thumb, weighing his options. Eat with a crowd of people, go hungry.

In the end, the choice is made for him.

He startled when his name is called by a group of people, each with similar levels of enthusiasm. Leo, Piper, Jason, and Annabeth — Percy is with his mom this week, Nico recalls — approach him, waving.

“We are flagrantly breaking the rules and eating at Jason’s table,” Piper says, smiling. “Sit with us.”

She says it like an offer, but Nico has a feeling it’s more of a command. He nods, hesitantly falling in step with Annabeth.

(His friendship with her startled him. So many years seething with jealousy, simmering with misplaced hate and pain; only to find out she’s stubborn, like he is, and kinda cagey. She knows what it’s like growing up glancing over your shoulder. They stand the same, shoulders loose but knees locked; and eat the same, like they’ll never see food again. She knows when to let him have his silence. He knows when to let her have her space.)

She nods at him, smiling slightly. Her grey hairs are dyed with pink, today. It clashes horribly with her camp shirt. It suits her.

“Kids do alright today?”

“Yeah.”

“Harley blow anything up?”

“Yeah.”

“Impressive, that one.”

Nico smiles. “Yeah.”

They’re the last ones to the dining pavilion. Most tables are already full, conversations rising and lulling, food disappearing from plates. Several people duck close to their friends as they walk by, whispering. Nico pretends not to notice, pretends not to see Annabeth’s frown.

“Nico! Hey! I was just about to come find ya!”

Tripping in his haste to get up from his table — or maybe over his snickering sister’s extended foot — Will bounds up to meet him, hair flopping into his eyes, grin wide and blinding.

Nico’s palms begin to sweat.

“Will,” he acknowledges, after a beat too long.

Will doesn’t seem to notice.

(Everyone else does.)

“Just wanted to let you know that I was up last night digging through the records, and I found a hymn that’ll fix up your face faster. Not that it needs fixing.” He winks, or maybe tries to. What he really does is blink both eyes, beam so bright it forces smile lines. Nico goes bright red. “So just drop by whenever! I’m not on duty today, but it’s cool, just come find me. Better sooner than later, right?”

He doesn’t wait for Nico’s response, already half turned away by the end of his sentence. “See ya!” he shouts, too loud for the limited size of the dining pavilion, already stumbling back to his table, halfway through a new conversation with Austin. He watches him, amused, indulging.

“So,” says a teasing voice, dragging out the vowel, gleeful. Nico turns to find four identical smirks. “He sounded eager.”

“Nope,” Nico says immediately, turning back the way he came. His face continues to grow exponentially more red, which at this point must be some kind of hazard. “Food is overrated. I’m gonna —”

“Oh, no you don’t,” and then there’s a hand clenched in the back of his jacket, pulling, and four echoing cackles, and he’s dragged over to Jason’s table kicking and hissing. “Time for you to spill.”

———

part three

[moonpetrichors-blog]

Hey! Can you write a long one shot where Lo'ak/Neteyam is in a serious relationship with a human girl ( they are around 20 years old), and she hears Neytiri talking to Jake , saying that your relationship is impossible, bc you can't procreate. Then the reader sits alone crying bc she really wanted that to happen. Lo'ak/Neteyam finds her and comforts her. Then eywa sees how much they love each other and blesses their union with a pregnancy where the reader survives it? It would be more like a spiritual conception, it doesn't need to be anything sexual if you don't feel comfortable writing it. Mo'at or Ronal would be the ones to tell the news, since they are tsahik. Idk, I just wondered how this pregnancy/baby would be like. I even pictured Lo'ak/Neteyam laying their heads on the reader's stomach caressing and kissing it, calling the baby 'our little miracle'

Spiritualis Conceptio

Tags: AgedUp!Neteyam x Human!Reader, Oneshot, Avatar 2, Fem!Reader, Pregnancy, Like Spiritual??, Also Bonus Uncle Lo’ak

Warnings: Major Avatar 2 Spoiler

Years pass, and you and Neteyam have been living together peacefully with the Metkayina clan. It has always been a dream of yours to have a family, but as a human on Pandora, you know that's not physically possible when your lover is from another species.

I'm gonna be real with you, I had zero clue how to write this. I seriously needed a couple days to mull over how this would work. Would reader pull a Bella Swan? Who knows! This is lowkey a load of bullshit! Also please keep in mind that although I'm writing this, I am a minor and chose to write this non-sexually and went with the spiritual route. I think this falls under more cute domestic scenarios overall anyway so, WHO DOESN’T WANNA SEE DAD NETEYAM???

* ˚ ✦ 1767 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [02/01/23] ❞ 

You wrung your fingers together as you meandered along the beaches of the Awa'atlu village, contemplating mundane matters. One in particular that piqued your interest was something you had been thinking about for a considerable amount of time; a family.

You and Neteyam had been together for several years; you were both adults who had been dwelling with the Metkayina clan for the last decade or so. You'd left the Omaticaya clan with him, hoping to remain near to him wherever he traveled. You believed it was remarkable that he survived after being shot all those years ago, and since then, Neteyam has promised never to leave you.

And since then, you’ve felt like you wanted to further your relationship with him. To have a family with him. It warmed your heart to think of the way he would be with his children. Would he be like his own father, protective and caring? Strict yet present? Or would he let loose, and be carefree with them? These were the questions you ached to know the answers to.

It's not as though Neteyam was oblivious to your desires. In all honesty, he was thrilled that you wanted a family, but you two had never seriously discussed the crux of it beyond the concept itself. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on your behalf, but you sincerely hoped it would be achievable someday.

After a short while, you became bored and weary from strolling over the sand for so long. You decided to return to your humble home, which, despite its small size, contained many fond memories for you. Your ears perked up at the sound of a woman's voice before you could whisk the portiere aside.

Neytiri.

Neteyam had been waiting for you to return from your beach promenade, but when the curtain to your front door was swept away, he was greeted by the sight of Neytiri and his father instead, who had arrived moments before you. He welcomed them, intrigued as to why they were searching for him and bearing poignant expressions.

You hid beside the doorway and eavesdropped. You knew you shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations, but when your partner's mother was arguing with him inside your home, whom can criticize you for wishing to hear?

You subsequently regretted that decision because you wished you hadn't. Neytiri didn't take her time stating what she intended to say; she spoke it bluntly and firmly, as one would expect from someone of her character. She was always this way.

“Your relationship with the human girl is impossible.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken. What?

It seemed as though Neteyam had the same reaction as you (albeit unaware of your presence), as he immediately shot up from his seat.

“Now is when you choose to tell me that? You had years to disapprove of Y/N! What changed?” he was not happy.

Jake sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We overheard you both, talking about wanting a family.”

Neytiri interjected. “It will not happen. It cannot, you are not even of the same species! She belongs with her own people!”

Why were they so adamant about this?

“She is a human girl! You cannot procreate, yet you talk of wanting a family?”

“And? Look at Kiri! She had a human mother!”

Jake placed a rough hand on his son’s shoulder. “Kiri was conceived from Grace’s avatar, Neteyam. No one has ever seen or heard of a human being giving birth to a Na’vi child, let alone be pregnant with one.”

He brushed his father’s hand off of him. “It doesn’t matter.”

You were devastated. You were aware that Neteyam's family had reservations about you, but were they always this antagonistic to your relationship? You opted not to enter your home, tears welling up in your eyes. You dashed away, but before you could truly escape, Neteyam pulled the curtain aside to leave. He spotted your sprinting figure as he grumbled over the discussion he had just seconds before.

He groaned as he raised his palm to his forehead. “Shit.”

Neteyam broke into a run to chase after you.

...

You hid behind some rocks, huddling into your body so that you could cry without anybody finding you. Well, almost. Neteyam emerged from behind one of the boulders you were situated in front of, and sat down carefully so as not to scare you off.

His eyebrows were knitted together in concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You wiped your puffy eyes and sniffled. “I heard Neytiri telling you we can’t be together.”

Neteyam embraced you and stroked your hair.

You began to weep again as you sank into his touch. “I really wanted to have a family with you, but I don’t think that’s possible...”

Neteyam felt a wave of guilt surge through him. Perhaps you wouldn't have been crying if you'd fell in love with a human male instead. Nonetheless, he delicately nuzzled you, trying to soothe your pains.

“It’s okay. I don’t care what my mother says.”

When you glanced up at him, he planted a tender kiss against your lips to quell your sobs. You lamented the absence of them when Neteyam stood up and extended his hand for you to take.

You accepted it tentatively, finally putting an end to your sobs. “Where are we going?”

He gave you a soft smile. “You’ll see.”

...

Thank goodness Tsireya also taught you breathing exercises.

When Neteyam said he’d take you somewhere, you didn’t expect it to be the goddamn spirit tree.

You were underwater, squeezing Neteyam's hand as he approached the foliage. He had informed you beforehand that Eywa might hear his prayers, which is why you were here.

You maintained your grip on his hand in trepidation. Neteyam drew his braid over his shoulder, and nodded once more before attaching his queue to the tree.

You could tell he was begging Eywa to bless you both with a child. You sensed tingles across your skin as you felt the energy of the tree move through your lover, wondering whether your family's future was not completely lost after all.

Once Neteyam finished his prayer, he disconnected his queue and helped you swim back up to the surface.

...

You felt ill.

Seriously, terribly ill. You assumed you ate something unpleasant because you became queasy out of nowhere; what was wrong with you?

Neteyam voiced his concerns about the state of your health, and said that he would leave for a moment and bring back the village Tsahìk.

Ronal stepped inside your marui, and raised an eyebrow at your figure. Why did Jake Sully’s son bring her to you? “She is a human, what could I possibly do to aid her?”

Neteyam grumbled, then admitted to what he had done the few days prior. “We visited the spirit tree, and I prayed to Eywa for a baby. Now Y/N is suddenly sick, and I don’t know why!”

Ronal was taken aback for a time. She gazed at Neteyam, puzzled, then swiftly kneeled by your side. She placed her tools near your head, and you began to groan in agony, sweating from the aching in your body.

Ronal shot a glare towards Neteyam. “You, make sure nobody steps foot into this marui!”

Neteyam was a little slow in processing Ronal's order, but he promptly walked towards the entrance to maintain a watchful eye as she toiled. She spoke in Na'vi, and pressed her palm against your abdomen to interpret Eywa's will.

...

“This human girl, she is pregnant.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, utterly astonished. Ronal had helped to relieve the cramps in your body, but that was overshadowed by the shock you and Neteyam were experiencing at the revelation of your pregnancy.

“I don’t know how this child came to be, but it is clear Eywa’s will has been told.”

You couldn’t help but intercede. “But, Jake said no human has ever been pregnant with a Na’vi child! How is this possible?”

Ronal sighed. “We do not know if this is a Na’vi child yet, but this is clearly some form of spiritual conception. We will simply have to wait and see how the pregnancy goes.”

...

This was not a normal human baby.

The more time passed, the more visible your bump became. Ronal had only alerted Neteyam's family about the pregnancy in case something went wrong with the baby. However, it was becoming increasingly impossible to conceal your body's visible baby bump. Neytiri was surprised at first because she couldn't believe you two had truly conceived a child.

The baby was developing well. To be honest, it was a little too fast for your liking, but it was fine. Aside from the occasional cramps and nausea, your health was excellent, and you were coping well with the pregnancy.

Neteyam was over the moon about your pregnancy. There were numerous occasions when he would lie with you, singing songs to your baby and wondered if they could hear him.

You hoped it couldn’t, because no offense, but his voice was awful. Neytiri’s singing genes did not pass down to Neteyam.

Your favorite moment of those instances though, aside from your lover's atrocious vocals, is when he would kiss and caress your belly while referring to your child as “our little miracle.”

On occasion, you two would dispute over the baby's gender or how much more Na'vi or human it would appear to be. You were certain that your daughter would seem more human, but Neteyam insisted that your son would undoubtedly look like a Na'vi. Furthermore, it was him who prayed for this! He essentially did all of the work!

You would argue that he’s not the pregnant one, and that you’re definitely having a daughter. No questions asked.

Bonus!

You had a son.

Everyone in the tribe was shocked when Ronal announced the pregnancy to them. A child who is both human and Na'vi? It was incomprehensible!

You were absolutely livid as you stood there, Neteyam snickering in the background. Eywa was truly a mischievous deity who relished in playing games.

Neteyam nudged your shoulder in silent laughter. “I told you we’d have a boy!”

You smacked his arm. “Oh, shut up! You weren’t even right about him looking more Na’vi!”

You two quietly bickered as Lo’ak held the infant. “Haha, I’m your uncle now! Look at us, we both have demon blood!”

He began to speak in a singsong voice, “demon baabbyy!”

The baby started wailing.

Someone seriously needed to take that child away from Lo’ak before he dropped it in the sand.

[sarasade]

It's been pretty interesting to follow the

"Why Didn't Viren Get Redeemed vs Viren Got What Was Coming To Him"

discussion after The Dragon Prince's 6th season got released.

Hot Take

I think Viren got redeemed.

Because to me Viren humbling himself and acknowledging the hurt he has caused was redeeming. His conversation with Soren was the main event. His rather heroic death was only the cherry on top of the character development cake that has been baking since s4.

I think Viren dying wasn't as significant as what he did before that and how he tried to provide Soren with some kind of comfort and closure, you know, as a parent should, before going. Viren's redemption wasn't just him dying for Katolis but acknowledging his wrongdoings and trying to salvage what he could.

That was pretty redeeming for me at least. Viren did the right thing even when he knew there wouldn't be any reward for it. Even if he couldn't stop Aaravos from destroying Katolis or manipulating Claudia even after his death. Like, man, I kinda feel for the guy.

I think it has always pretty easy to feel sympathy for Viren. Viren wants to matter and wants to be important. However, his grandiosity, as psychologists would call it, keeps him from creating genuine connections with others. His friends, wife and children are only there to prop up his ego or get rejected if they fail to live up to his expectations. It's also pretty damn tragic that Viren opens up about his deep insecurities to Aaravos of all people. Someone who was the most likely person in the world to exploit these insecurities for his own gain.

Viren had to taste his own medicide but I don't think TDP says that's an objectively good thing per se or that we should enjoy this sort of revenge fantasy uncritically. Viren is still portrayed rather sympathetically and of course there is the part about his actions affecting others and the world in unpredictable ways. It's still a tragedy because Viren's actions and personal problems have caused so much collateral damage. The Why behind Aaravos exploiting Viren and Claudia is part of that tragedy, too. There are no winners here. In a way Viren is a victim of his own narcissistic tendencies, too.

This isn't just about the final episodes of Viren's arc. To me it's essential to ask What was Viren's biggest sin he should be redeemed or punished for? Depending on your answer you may have a relatively different reading of s6 story development compared to mine.

To me it's not a specific action he took but his whole worldview. Viren is a fictional character (duh!) so his story isn't exactly literal but metaphorical, a representation of certain values and morals real people and society holds. In s3 TDP draws a pretty straightforward, though brief, comparison between Viren and reactionary right-wing ideologues. It's not exactly subtle.

It's just one way TDP goes to show how toxic and abusive Viren's core values are. that gets reflected both in Viren's personal life aka how he treated Lissa, Soren and even Harrow and Claudia (last two more indirectly). Since he also had a ton of political power as a high mage and briefly as a king we see what he did with that power. It's a pretty clear take on people who dehumanise others, fetishise power and see all living things as something to exploit. TDP explores that both philosophically and psychologically through Viren. Dark magic encapsulates this philosophy well since using magical creatures like tools or objects is essential for it to work.

Also also- I don't really get why people see redemption or atonement as something black and white. It's not bad or anything but Redeeming Yourself For Your Sins is a very Christian concept and Christianity isn't the only way to understand villain story arcs. Like I wish there could be more discussion about WHY redemption is the main analytical framework we impose on villains when villainous characters have a ton of variety anyway.

I don't really have anything to complain about Viren's death itself and I'm not surprised that he ended up dying (for real this time). Aaravos seemed like someone who'd turn against Viren the moment he stopped being useful to him so Viren's life has been hanging by a thread since s4. Viren was the best part of TDP and every scene he's been in had been a delight, well expect the s5 dream sequence because it was too long-winded and obvious, anyway, I'm sorry to see him go and I look forward writing AU fix-it fics where he and Aaravos are married and run a hot brown morning potion shop with all their four totally not dead children. RIP Viren. You lived like a messy bitch and died like a messy bitch. Iconic.

[literatureloverx]

Hiii!! good day to you☺️☺️!!! Just wanna ask something if you don't mind me🤗. In the aftercare scenario with fyodor, in the last part of it they talked about having children. Since reading that it's the only thing on my mind rn😔. I really wanna know what you think about fyodor, his darling and their children. Like would he be a good dad, an okay one or a bad one? How maby children do you think he'll have? Etc etc. Even though it's kinda impossible for him(rn) to have children since it'll probably become a problem for his plan, but can't a girl dream?🥺 Anyway tyty in advance if you answer this

(I love you so muchhhhh ahhh i wanna bite you/affectionately/😚😚. I love love the way you potray fyodor— my knees become weak every time I read one of your post! You're literally serving us a whole 5 star mchelin meal and I'm licking the plate- all utensils clean frfr😋😋. I hope you continue this and I'll be right here with the others supporting you🫶🏼🫶🏼)

Oh my gosh, I actually shed some tears here…🥺❤️

I can’t even begin to tell you how much your support means to me. Every time I read your sweet words, I get so emotional. I'm beyond grateful for your love and encouragement—it really keeps me going. ❤️

Thank you from the bottom of my heart!❤️❤️❤️

In actuality, I got two other requests about Dad!Fyodor. I wrote some headcanons about this and included a scene too, but since I don’t want to be unfair, I will post the scenario I wrote here and the headcanons in the other request ❤️

I hope you enjoy it, my dear! ❤️

Mdni, yandere behaviour, unhealthy behaviour, dad!fyodor, ideal type fem!reader, fluff, etc.

———————————

F Y O D O R D O S T O E V S K Y

Belonging

Never in his life had Fyodor calculated that he would end up in this moment. It was a delight indeed, to feel the pleasure of utter belonging. You, belonging to him. Him, belonging to you. Him, belonging to his own small family.

A small smile forms on his lips, his eyes softening as his pale, cold hand gently places itself upon your belly.

It feels so strange, in an almost tooth-rottingly sweet way. It was something he never wished for, never considered before. But since you came crashing into his life with your graceful, soft, sweet nature, hopping into his safe space, jumping over his seemingly endless high walls, everything has been changing for him.

To find himself in such a vulnerable state was frustrating. He did not handle this new information well at the beginning, at all.

After endless loneliness, he felt uncomfortable with the togetherness with someone else. Finding you and falling for you, his soulmate, his lover, was indeed a shock for his hardened heart.

But now, this? A child? His child, that you’re bearing inside your very body?

He is not someone who loses his cool easily. You softened him. Your still unborn baby, whom he can't imagine parenting as any other human being does, softened him. He has found himself dwelling on thoughts obsessively focused on you and your child. About your future.

If this had not happened simply by itself, he wouldn’t have thought of having a child. But now that you’re full with his child, smiling at him with utmost love and affection, he can't help but love your baby.

Love… such a distant word for him for decades, for hundreds of years. Humbling, but so utterly real.

“Can you feel it, my love?”

“Yes, love.”

His gaze focuses on you, the dark glimmer shining through his soft expression, a sight far too familiar to you.

“I’m amazed how we managed to produce such an energetic offspring, given our harmonious and peaceful personalities.”

His humorous comment makes you huff out a giggle, amused at his remark.

“I’m not sure if I’d describe you as such, my love…”

His eyes soften further.

“I believe that motherhood has already made you brattier, my dear. We might need to change that attitude in the near future.”

Another chuckle, this time even more heartfelt than before.

He softly kisses your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your belly.

“The medicine is working. You’re feeling less dizziness, correct?”

Fyodor being your husband has more than enough beautiful aspects to it. One of them is, indeed, his ability to see, hear, and understand everything the moment it occurs. Like now. He always knows how you’re feeling, and it is refreshing in a sweet way.

“Yes, my love. I’m doing very well. Also, I'm not lonely at all, thanks to you.”

He smiles fondly, a lazy smirk stretching out his lips. Of course you weren’t. He is often away, but he always manages to send you gifts and activities to pass the time with. You’re always surrounded by people who dote on you and do everything in their power to make you feel comfortable in your huge mansion while you wait day and night for your husband to arrive and show you his affection.

It always pays off. The waiting, the longing, the slight agony that sometimes pierces your heart and makes you miss him even more than ever.

But he always returns. Always, without a single exception.

In those times whenever you were waiting eagerly for your husband to return, you had plenty of time to think about every possible possibility. How your lives would change when your little one arrives, what kind of mother you’d be to your child, what kind of father Fyodor would be… you never once doubted him.

You trust him with all your heart and secretly, this trust gives Fyodor immense strength, even if he never verbally acknowledged it. He knows that you trust him, and your trust and love work wonders on him.

From a logical perspective, he is not someone who needs love or acknowledgment, praise or appreciation. But with you by his side, loving, appreciating, trusting, understanding, and caring for him unconditionally, he acknowledges that everything is so much more beautiful as you bestow pure joy into his previously cold and inhumane life.

Your little family already makes him feel more human. You make him feel human. Not that he thought that he ever cared about being inhuman, but it turns out that he is, indeed, not much different than other human beings.

Feeling like a human has an incredible vulnerability to it. But with you, he can’t help but bow down to his own humanity, to his own vulnerability.

“I love you...”

His eyes glimmer with a faint shadow, and you can see inside his eyes how his sentence continues.

‘…I love both of you.’

To read my other works and the backstory to this scenario => MASTERLIST

[jungshookz]

apparently y/n's really good with toddlers and jimin thinks it's adorable

➺ pairing; balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; alright balletteacher!jimin stans since the last update was.,,. uh,., anyway here’s some pre-breakupfluff!! actually idk if this is going to make u guys more sad knowing how that last drabble ended but this one is super cute so at least you have that <3 i’m FINALLY appeasing u with balletteacher!jimin content 

➺ wordcount; 2.3k

➺ summary; all the teeny ballerinas seem to gravitate towards y/n for some reason and it’s taking everything within jimin to not spend the entire class just watching her fondly. 

➺ what to expect;  “oops, i dropt my swipper again.”

»»————- 🧸 ————-««

when jimin first got the email from saying that he had to take over the toddler’s ballet class for a day because the teacher for that class called in sick at the very last minute and he was the only one whose schedule lined up perfectly with the toddler’s class, needless to say, he wasn’t very happy 

it’s not that he hates children or anything horrible like that (he really doesn’t understand people who say that they hate children) — don’t get him wrong, he loves when random babies wave at him on the street and he’ll even go as far as to make a face at them if their parents aren’t watching — it’s just that he’s literally never taught a toddler ballet class before so he doesn’t even know where to start… and he also doesn’t know how far he can push them before he’s being accused of being a horrible, mean teacher 

though it would be fairly impressive on his end if they were able to do grand jetés by the end of class 

“i’m so happy we get to play with toddlers all day!” lisa squeals, plopping herself down next to you as you continue your morning stretches in front of the mirror, “aren’t you excited??” 

“i think it’ll be fun!” you smile, nodding in agreement before shrugging, “i’m a little nervous because i literally have never interacted with a child other than my little cousins, and they’re like eight to nine years old now, so i’m out of practice…” 

“it’s okay, y/n,” you feel a harsh pat on your shoulder and you look up to see seulgi smiling sweetly at you, “not all of us can be good at everything. you keep the class humble.”  

“very funny, seulgi.” you grumble, rolling your eyes before turning to look back at lisa, “i’m just glad we kinda get a day off because we have to help mr. park teach the toddlers. i don’t know about you but i am not in the mood to do any pirouettes this morning.” you huff, adjusting your leg warmers before checking out your reflection in the mirror to make sure you look okay

you also feel a little groggy because you didn’t get much sleep last night 

you spent the night at jimin’s and then he drove you back to your place early (because lisa texted and said she’d come over in the morning to have breakfast with you before the two of you zipped over to the studio so you had to go home otherwise she’d be wondering where the hell else you’d be) 

“do you think i should’ve worn the sheep-patterned leg warmers instead? i feel like toddlers would be more receptive to sheeps-“ for some reason you feel like you’re trying to impress the toddlers even though they probably don’t even know what leg warmers are and even if they did they couldn’t care less about them

you were going to wear your sweatpants but you got a new pair of leg warmers and you wanted to show them off (they’re baby pink with little black bows on the back of them), so you decided to pair them with your black leotard, a matching black wrap cardigan, and your stockings of course

“ah, i just love kids,” lisa sighs, getting up from the ground as you get up as well before looping her arm with yours, “and i don’t know about you, but seeing mr. park interact with kids is also something that i’m very much looking forward to.” 

you feel a wide grin growing on your face at the reminder that yes, you’re finally going to see jimin interacting with cute little kids and you remind yourself to keep it cool

you and jimin only started dating a few weeks ago and you don’t want to scare him off by getting all baby crazy

you don’t even know if jimin wants kids 

…

does he want kids?

and if he does, would he want to have them with you? because you certainly wouldn’t mind carrying his beautiful children and-

“oh my god, they’re so cute!” 

the room erupts into high pitched coos and squeals when the toddlers, well, toddle into the room, all of them dressed in matching baby pink cardigans and leotards and chiffon skirts with stockings on their little legs and neat little slicked back buns on their little heads and it doesn’t take long for you to fall in love with all of them because oh my god they’re so cute and you just want to eat their chubby little cheekies and gobble them up and rRRaAWOOF- 

“ladies, here are our little guests for the day,” jimin laughs lightly, shutting the door behind him quietly as he gently nudges the little ones towards the group like a herd of little baby sheep, “there are twenty-four of them and twelve of you, so if you could each take two for the day, that would be wonderful- oh!” jimin pauses when he accidentally bumps into one of the girls and he reaches down to pat her head, “sorry honey, mr. park is a little clumsy today and you’re just so small-“ 

“oh god, i can’t take it-“ lisa groans quietly, holding a hand over her mouth as she muffles a squeal and starts to bounce on the balls of her feet excitedly, “i can’t take it i can’t take it i can’t take it that is so stinking cute-“ 

“what are we supposed to do, do we just grab two random ones and go?” seulgi asks with a frown and you can’t help but snort because that is such a seulgi thing to ask 

“don’t grab two of them and go, this isn’t a drive through-“ you chuckle, watching as the other girls disperse into the crowd of teeny ballereenies to collect their two for the day, “you just have to go and see which ones vibe with you, i think. which might be hard for you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“well, all children know that they need to stay away from the wicked witch of the west- OW-“ you yelp when seulgi delivers a hard punch to your arm before taking off 

it’s only in that moment you notice one of the little girls in the back, wide-eyed and holding onto both her slippers, looking as lost as ever 

she stumbles forward as the other girls start shuffling forwards slightly, all the toddlers clearly a little intimidated by all of you 

you make your way over to her and she immediately looks up at you, her lips parting slightly 

“hi! do you need some help with your slippers?” you crouch down so that you’re eye-level with her and she nods shyly before averting her gaze, “okay, i can help you. i’m y/n. what’s your name?” you stand back up before holding your hand out for her and she wraps her hand around two of your fingers, trailing behind you as you lead her to a free corner in the room 

“mia.” 

“mia’s a very pretty name,” you smile, looking down at her (from your angle, you can see her little cheeks protruding out slightly and it’s just so cute) 

“i dropt my swipper.” mia suddenly stops in her tracks and you stop as well, letting her bend down to pick up her slipper only for the other one to fall onto the ground, “oops, i dropt my swipper again.” 

you and lisa make eye contact from across the room and she pushes her bottom lip out in a pout before scrunching her face and putting a hand over her chest and you make the same expression in return to tell her that oh my god, i know, right?!

“alright, miss mia, do you wanna sit down for me?” you hum, sitting down cross-legged before patting your lap, “it’ll be easier for me to put your slippers on if you’re sitting.” 

mia nods before plopping herself down on your lap and you nearly let out a coo when you notice how teeny weeny her slippers are

they’re just so cute! and they’re basically the size of your hand!!!!!! 

“how old are you, mia?” you ask, taking her slippers from her before lifting one of her chubby little legs up so you can put a slipper on 

“thwee.” she holds four fingers up and you giggle, reaching over to put one of them down for her, “i’m thwee.” she kicks her legs slightly, sticking the one with the slipper up into the air before wiggling her toes 

»»————- 🧸 ————-««

jimin smiles to himself as he looks around the room, feeling weirdly proud at how well all of you are looking after the little ones even though his teaching has nothing to do with how good you guys are with kids 

he started the class off with a few warm-up exercises and was very impressed at how well the little girls followed his lead (to be honest he’s already picked out the ones that would survive in his class when they’re older, and it’s definitely not the one that started twirling around in ditzy, uncoordinated circles when he asked everyone to get into third position), and it’s only been about twenty minutes but according to the schedule given to him, they take ten minute breaks every twenty minutes which seems a little too lax for his liking, but then again — he’s not a teacher for toddlers, so who is he to say what’s right and what’s wrong? 

and he has to admit that it was hard to not watch you the entire time you were guiding your girls and showing them how to do everything properly (“demi-plie, mia! keep your back straight just like me…”) 

at first he was going to tell you off because you were kneeled on the ground while he was teaching up front but then he realized you were only doing it so you could help the little ones with positioning their feet, and not to mention, you weren’t just helping your own two ballereenies, you were helping whichever ones were around you which was just… so nice to see 

and perhaps the others will suspect him of favouritism because he’s pretty sure lisa caught him staring fondly at you at one point but it’s not like anyone would ever confront him about it so he’s really not too worried 

“and at home, i- i do- um, i do, um, dance evewywhere and my favouwite- favouwite song is wet it go from fwozen because anna and elsa-“

“speaking of let it go- emma, you better let go of my bun before you yank my hair off my head!”

jimin’s ears perk up in interest when he hears your voice among the many voices and squeals and giggles in the room and he turns around, eyes scanning the room until he finally lands on you to see you surrounded by six of the baby ballerinas

you’ve got one of them sitting on your lap with her hand buried in a pack of animal crackers (none of them brought snacks with them so he’s assuming those came from you), one of them with their arms slung over you from behind and her cheek pressed to your shoulder, three of them sitting cross-legged around you, and the last one prancing around you chatting away excitedly 

you wrap your arm securely around the one sitting on your lap, reaching down to smooth some of her hair back before leaning over a little to look at her and ask if she’s alright, and she nods in response before holding a cracker up for you to take 

jimin feels his heart skip a beat at the adorable sight because he was certainly not aware of how good you are with children

he can’t help but chuckle when he notices you showing off your leg warmers off 

so cute

so, so cute

his eyes widen when you look up and immediately lock gazes with him only for you to wave at him shyly before returning your attention to the girls after jimin returns a smile and a wave of his own 

you and y/n would make a really cute baby, the intrusive voice in his head tells him as his arm drops back to his side, and jimin finds his cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of a teeny little y/n trailing behind him like a little duckling 

he could dress her up in her ballet clothes and put bows in her hair and train her to become the best ballerina the world has ever seen and she’d have your hair and eyes and his nose and mouth and she’d be so sweet and kind like you but strong and tenacious like him 

and not to sound like a hormonal boy or anything but the process of baby-making seems like it’d be very fun 

…

…

…

“mr. park, y/n’s stealing all the kids!” jimin looks over when he hears seulgi whining and he resists the urge to snort at how huffy she’s being, “i took two of them like you told us to but all of them are like, gravitating towards y/n for some reason-“

“well, i guess there’s just something about y/n that they like, seulgi.” jimin responds with a shrug, keeping his eyes glued on you with a fond smile twitching at the corner of his mouth 

🎙️ ask y/n where she gets her leg warmers (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[sinimake]

Some Kenshi specific headcanons!

His parents died when he was a teenager, leaving him and his younger sister. That's when Kenshi really got into the yakuza business because there were no adult to shield him from criminal life, and he had to earn money to keep them afloat.

He's indifferent to cold weather but absolutely hates humid heat. Summers in Japan are his nightmare, especially since he has to wear long sleeves to cover up his tattoos. It is the main reason why he's so on edge and irritated most of the time.

He grips things in his hand when he's thinking and focused. God help Johnny if Kenshi's hand is on his thigh when it happens.

Has no skincare routine. He uses cheap 2-in-1 shampoo and washes his face with hand soap.

Not specifically interested in cars but he is a beast behind a wheel—difting, clutch kicking and obstacle course swerving. He knows how to drive.

Bit of an adrenaline junkie. He loves the kick but doesn't seek out danger purposedly.

He's absolute sweetheart with children, women and elders. He's that type to intentionally walk slow as he crosses road to make sure elders cross it safely too. He keeps children out of trouble and protects women from creepers. But because it is usually how the yakuza exploit people as payback from their help, people are very vary of Kenshi. So he learns to do it subtly over the time.

Very humble in nature but can be a cocky mofo when he wants to.

Constantly smells like cloves because of choji oil he uses for his katana

Has glass eyes. Johnny always tries to get him to wear wild and different prosthetics (once tried to put sharingan in him), but he just sticks to all white ones because he doesn't really show his eyes to others anyway.

He wears leather gloves to hide his tattoos on his hands.

He's a natural leader!!! This is a canon thing we need to pay more attention to!!!

Has strong sense of justice. He diligently tries to live an honest life after the yakuza and not break any laws but if it is absolutely necessary, he will take it to the extreme. Needs Sento? Doesn't wanna rob a dude blind but he's gonna break into his mansion and threaten him to give it to him.

Loves spicy food! Constantly trying to get Johnny's spice tolerance up.

I previously mentioned he never went to college, but he's always been effortlessly smart in school. He was a type of smart student who doesn't study for exams but still aces them.

He wants to have his own dojo in the future.

Very light sleeper bc old habits die hard.

I said he loves spice, but he doesn't really have that much preference in food and will eat anything. His sister cooks him debauchery of bento all the time, but Kenshi always wolves them down. (They both shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen. Bad cooking is in their bloodline)

Got no solid music taste but will listen to either angry metal or traditional japanese music on his own.

You know those plates of candies on the receptions' tables? He always grabs a candy off it to later give it to others. Many times, Johnny has received candies out of nowhere from Kenshi.

Sometimes has verbal altercations with the voice over accessibility feature of his phone.

Always gets into arguments with tsa agents bc of sento.

[just-jordie-things]

[part three] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 3.6k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part three] : "Learning To Lie"

___

“I never thought I’d see the Gojo Satoru get soft,” Shoko’s giggling as she took a drag of her cigarette.  Her shoulders shake and her eyes close as she beams at the thought.  “It’s only a matter of time now until you dye that stupid hair too, huh?” She suggests, blowing out the smoke in her lungs.

Suguru’s head is thrown back in laughter, happily partaking in the tease-fest.

“I think black would be cooler.  Like mine” He says.

Shoko coos and hums in agreement, looking back at Gojo as if to picture a new look in her mind.

“I’m not coloring my hair, idiots,” He mutters, turning away from them and waving a dismissive hand.  “I look perfect” 

Suguru snorts at how humble his best friend was.

“So you admit you’ve grown a little soft spot for our resident (y/n)?” He asks, a muse in his tone as he shares a look with Shoko.

“We’ve always been friends.  I don’t know why you’re having a giggle parade over us hanging out.  I hang out with you guys all the time, you think I’m in love with you?” 

Shoko purses her lips, passing her cigarette to Suguru.

“Yes,” She says, decidedly.  “But I think you like (y/n) better” 

Satoru has to fight the urge to defend himself too much, because he knows if he argues with them too much, their suspicions will only be raised tenfold.

“She’s definitely better company than you two right now” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall.

He wasn’t even a smoker, but when Shoko and Suguru would head off for a cigarette break, more often than not he’d follow.  Sometimes (y/n) would be here.  And when she was, he could focus his attention on messing with her.  Otherwise when it was just these two, they ganged up against him.

Speaking of- 

“Where is (y/n) anyways?” Satoru asks.

Shoko and Suguru share another suggestive look, chuckling to themselves.  Satoru wasn’t sure when they took such entertainment in meddling with his love life, but it was starting to irritate him.  All the looks, and the giggling, it was going to drive him crazy.

“She said something about having to go to a bookstore in town,” Shoko said.  “Sounded boring” 

“Miss your little training buddy already?” Suguru asks.

“She went to town by herself?” Satoru frowned.

“Relax, she literally just needed a book,” Shoko says, taking her cigarette back from Suguru.  “I think she’s capable of a little errand” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighs.  “It’s just weird that she’d go alone.  We all had the day free” 

“Then go hang out with her if you want” Shoko suggests.

“Yeah, then we can talk about you guys” Suguru pipes up.

They’re laughing amongst themselves again, and Satoru thinks it’s not such a bad idea.  Kicking off the wall, he raises his hand in a peace sign and leaves without a word.

He can still hear their childish giggles as he walks away. ___

Breaking into the elementary school once it had closed and the staff had left for the day had been easy enough.  In fact, it was probably the easiest part of her whole investigation, which was odd since it was the first actual crime (y/n) had committed.

Not that commiting said crime fazed her too much.  She was doing this for the greater good after all.

The tricky part was finding what she was looking for.  The filing cabinets in the administrator’s office took up an entire wall, so finding two student’s information was going to take a minute.

She raised her phone’s flashlight and quickly began to read the labels on each cabinet.

Payroll.  Emergency Contacts.  Lunch Schedules.  Event Budgeting.

And then finally, Student Files.

With a grin, she quickly pulled open the first drawer with this label, and went flipping through the alphabetized files.

Just as she found where F was filed, her phone buzzed.

She nearly dropped it from the surprise, before she quickly silenced her ringtone, cursing whoever needed to call her right now.  Didn’t they know she was trying not to get caught literally breaking and entering? 

Well, no, no one did.  Maybe she should have turned her phone to silent before she broke in.

Seeing that it was Satoru calling, she knew better than to decline, so with a sigh, she answered, pressing her phone between her shoulder and her ear.

“Hey!” He greeted her happily.  “What’re you up to?”

She told Shoko she was shopping today.  So she had to stick to her story and tell him the same thing.

“I’m in town, what’s up?” She replied, keeping it short.

“Nothing.  Want company? Suguru and Shoko are being annoying and I kind of feel like avoiding them,” He tells her.  

Her heart feels warm that he wanted to spend time with her, but she bites her lip and tries to find a reason why he couldn’t come see her.

“We could grab lunch.  Or if you’ve already eaten we can get ice cream.  Either way my treat” 

(y/n) smiles to herself.

“That’s sweet, Satoru, but,” She hesitates, eyes wandering through the files in front of her.  “I already ate, and I’m still looking for that pair of headphones I saw online,” 

It’s quiet for a minute on his end, and she hopes she hasn’t hurt his feelings.

“But thank you for thinking of me.  We can hang out tomorrow, or something, if you have time” 

“Sure,” He replies, but his voice sounds off.  Almost rigid.  “Bye” 

With that, he hangs up on her.  (y/n) frowns as she pulls her phone from her ear, seeing the call end and her lock screen wallpaper light up.  She can only hope that he isn’t too upset.

She drops the thought quickly, and goes back to thumbing through the file folders.

It’s a matter of seconds before she finds what she’s looking for.  Fushiguro.

She snatches the file, her face split in a grin.  Victory!

With great haste she flipped through every page, snapping a photo of each one.  Once finished, she carefully placed everything back where she found it, slid out the window she’d so craftily unlocked when she’d broken in, closed it behind her, and left the scene.

If committing crime really was that easy, she wonders why more people don’t do it.

Maybe she’d keep that thought to herself.

As she casually slipped herself into the crowd of people, eyes glued to her phone as she studied the photos of the files she’d just stolen, she completely missed a familiar figure approaching.

“(y/n)?” 

Her eyes darted up, face paling slightly, surprised that anyone had recognized her.

And there was Haibara Yu, with that infamous cheery smile and a wave as he approached her.  He was in street clothes, and a small bag was held at his side.

“Yu!” Her voice came out a little louder than intended from her surprise.  She cleared her throat, and hoped that he didn’t find her acting strange.  “What’re you up to today?” 

“Just needed to get a gift for my sister,” He said, holding up the shopping bag in his hand.  “Her birthday is next weekend” 

“Sweet of you,” (y/n) smiled at the gesture.  “Tell her I said happy birthday” 

Yu nods, and she knows that despite having never met his sister- who probably didn’t know who she was- that he would relay the message.  He was a good guy like that, always putting people’s happiness first.  (y/n) admired that about the second year.

“So, what are you up to?” He asks.

She knows the question isn’t meant to be interrogative, that he’s genuinely curious about her day.  (y/n) bristles nonetheless.

“Just some shopping” She shrugs, trying to be as casual as she could, so as not to raise any suspicion.  

Although now that she thinks about it, and sees his kind smile as he talks to her, she thinks that she could never make him suspicious of her.  Yu was a grade younger than her, so it wasn’t often that they crossed paths.  Only in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, or if they happened to be working out at the same time.  But Yu had always made a point to talk to her, to befriend her and treat her well.  She’d found it endearing, how his kindness poured out of him, even when he was running late and Kento would be pulling him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him away, he’d always bid her goodbye with the well wish of having a good day.

Thinking about it now, (y/n) wondered if he had a little crush on her, or if he was always that pleasant with everyone.  She smiles warmly at the thought, either way. 

“Well, uh, do you want any company?” The dark haired boy asks, his hand raising to the back of his neck nervously.  “I’m all wrapped up, I don’t mind joining you, if- if you want” 

For a brief moment- so fleeting the thought left as soon as it presented itself- she wondered if Gojo had sent him.  After their strange phone call, she couldn’t help but notice Yu had asked the same question as Satoru after all.

She brushed off the paranoid idea quickly.  Yu was too kind to be sent as a spy.  Besides, she hadn’t been so shady in her excuses to Satoru to result in him sending an informer her way, she was certain.

“You’re too kind,” (y/n) flashed a dazzling smile.  “But I’m just about wrapped up myself, I was just going to get something, uh, a bit private, if you don’t mind,” She feigns bashfulness as she averts her eyes after telling him her errand.

Yu’s face drops and his ears turn a light shade of pink, and (y/n) mentally applauds herself for having succeeded in making him believe her little lie.

“Oh- oh, right, of course,” The boy stammered.  “Will you be long? I could wait for you, so you don’t have to walk back alone” 

“That’s alright, it’s my last stop,” (y/n) says, waving a dismissive hand in front of her.  “No need to worry about me” 

Yu nods, tucking his hands into his pockets as he lowers his gaze, hiding the disappointment in his features.  

“If you insist,” He says.  “I know your friends would be upset with me if I didn’t even offer,” 

You’re probably right, (y/n) thinks as she chuckles quietly.

“And I don’t need Gojo beating me up for leaving you out here alone” 

“He wouldn’t do such a thing,” (y/n) says with certainty.  “I’m not a stranger to Tokyo.  And I can handle myself just fine,” 

She begins to pass by him, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner as she does. 

“Have a safe walk back” She tells him.

“Yeah.  You too” Yu smiles, giving her a small wave as he walks off in the direction he was heading before he’d run into her.

(y/n) checks over her shoulder a few moments later, just to be sure that he was going back to the school, and he wasn’t following her.  Her eyes scan the small crowd of people wandering the sidewalks and peeking into shops.  When she doesn’t see the familiar student, her mind is at ease, and she goes back to her phone.

With the address of Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro’s home displayed before her, she follows her map. ___

“I saw (y/n) while I was in town” Yu mentions, picking at the box of food before him.

Kento, sat across from him at the table they shared, looked up from his own meal.  This wasn’t a casual mention.  It never was when he talked about (y/n).  It was almost getting tiring, hearing his friend go into that dreamy voice as he shares the most meaningless interaction he’d had with the third year girl.

“That so?” He replied anyway.  Might as well get it over with.

“Yeah,” Yu hummed in delight, the smile on his face was glued there.  “She was shopping” 

So interesting, Kento thinks bitterly, but he doesn’t dare say it out loud.  Yu’s crush on the older sorcerer might have been a bit far-fetched, but he was a good friend, so if he wanted to gush about her, he’d listen.

“Surprised you didn’t stay in town with her,” Kento says instead.  “Seemed like a good opportunity for one-on-one time, hm?” 

“I know.  I offered,” Yu sighs.  “But she was- uh- kinda busy” He chuckles nervously.

Kento raises a brow, silently asking what that was all about. Yu rubs the nape of his neck.

“She said she was shopping for something private” He confesses.

Kento hums, finally turning his attention back to his lunch.

“Whatever that means” 

“I didn’t ask,” Yu shrugs his shoulders.  “I didn’t want to overstep” 

It’s quiet for a minute as the pair nibble on their food.  Yu’s mind was buzzing with thoughts of the girl he’d run into, how pretty she looked in her street clothes, how kindly she spoke and smiled.  His eyes glazed over as he got lost in his thoughts.  He almost didn’t hear the footsteps of a third year approaching the table.

“Hey, you gonna pass out?”

Yu blinked until his vision of reality was restored, looking up to see Gojo Satoru leaning over the table, overly-invading both Yu’s and Kento’s personal space as he grinned at the daydreaming boy.

“He’s fine,” Kento muttered, leaning back from the table a bit to put some distance between him and the overbearing Six Eyes user.  “He’s just daydreaming about (y/n)”

Behind his sunglasses, Satoru blinks, his eyes twitching in the slightest.  But the ridiculous grin he wore didn’t falter as he continued to stare down the younger boy.

(Had Yu seen the jealous look in the eyes of Gojo Satoru himself, he probably would have pissed his pants)

“That so?” Satoru asks.  His voice was steady, almost too steady, and Yu swallows nervously, nodding his head.  “Didn’t know you had a little crush on our little hex” 

Curiously, Nanami eyes the way Gojo keeps his expression and demeanor remain perfectly rigid.  He’d barely moved a muscle, even as he spoke, he did so through that psychotic grin.  It was easy to see through this act.  He wondered if Yu thought the same.

“I- I dunno if I’d call it a- a crush,” Yu stammers.  “I was j-just telling Nanami that I’d run into her earlier” 

That made Gojo drop the false grin on his face, his brows suddenly furrowing.  Suddenly, he leaned back, out of the younger sorcerer’s personal space.

“Just now?” He asked.

Yu nodded his head in an anxious fashion, too nervous to open his mouth.  Nanami had said enough on his behalf to make the white haired sorcerer all too interested in their conversation.

“In town?” Satoru clarified.

Yu nodded again.

“Y-yeah,” He stumbled over his words.  “She was shopping” 

I know that.  Satoru’s teeth grind together to keep him from spitting out an attitude he doesn’t mean.

“Ah, Yu,” He shook his head, chuckling.

His demeanor had returned to it’s usual teasing presentation, but Yu’s anxiety remained on high alert.  This whole interaction was making his stomach churn, like he’d done something wrong and he hoped Gojo wouldn’t find out.  Although, he’s not very sure what mistake he had made.

“Couldn’t have been a gentleman and walked my girl home for me?” 

Finally, Yu’s brain caught up with where Nanami’s was.  This wasn’t anger, he realized.  This was jealousy.

That was much, much worse.

Yu feared for his life.

“I- I didn’t- she was- I wasn’t trying to-” 

“Mhm, of course,” Gojo nods, and reaches out to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.  Yu shuts his mouth instantly, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares directly at him.  “Don’t worry, I’m just pulling your leg a little” Gojo chuckles.

Yu huffs out a nervous laugh himself, trying to catch his breath and slow down his rapidly beating heart.

Nanami continues to sit in silence, watching the whole display with the eyes of a hawk.

“Okay,” Yu breathes out once he’s calmed down a little inside.  “She just had something private to shop for, I was trying to be, ya’know, considerate” 

The twitch in Satoru’s eye was starting to get annoying.  Private? He latched onto the word.  First she tells Shoko she’s book shopping.  Then gives him some bullshit excuse about headphones.  And now Yu is here telling him a third thing that didn’t match up in his head.  His finger began to tap against Yu’s shoulder, before he pulled his hand off, shoving it into his pocket.

“Of course you were, you little gentleman,” He pulls out his teasing tone.  “But do me a favor, Haibara?” 

“Sure?”

Before he can say anything, Geto Suguru enters the room, calling Gojo’s attention.  The man turns away from Yu for a moment, holding his finger up to his friend, and then turning back to the younger sorcerer.

“Next time,” He says in a chipper tone that seemed like anything but.  “Try to do the right thing, and walk her home, yeah?”

He was sure to lower his shades so that his eyes could pierce right through Yu’s soul.

Yu chokes on air, nodding his head at an aggressive speed.

“Of course.  I will.  I’m sorry” 

Gojo claps his hand on his shoulder one more time.

“Have a good lunch, guys!” He gives the pair a friendly wave before heading back over to Suguru.

Yu’s jaw drops as he finally looks over to Nanami, fear deep in his eyes.

“Why would you tell him that?” He squeaked out.  “I thought he was going to kill me!” 

Nanami shrugged, taking a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully.

“How was I to know he had a thing for her?” He muttered.

Suguru had only seen a little bit of Satoru’s interaction with the second years, but he’d seen enough to know something was up.

As they walked out of the dining hall, he supposed he could indulge in a little drama.

“So, what was that about?” He mused, an eager smile on his lips.  “Not like you to threaten a kid like Haibara” 

“I wasn’t threatening him” Satoru brushed off the comment, adjusting his sunglasses to sit properly on his nose.

“Could’ve fooled me” 

“You see (y/n) at all today?” Satoru changed the subject.

Suguru raised a brow, although his friend was ignoring his look.

“No” He replied. 

The white haired sorcerer let out a huff.

“That what this is about? (y/n)?”

Satoru doesn’t say anything.

“So it is,” Suguru grins.  “What is it this time? She take a liking to Haibara?” 

“He saw her in town” Gojo finally gives him something to work with, but Suguru raises his brows, surprised that his little display of dominance was over something so mundane.

“Yes, well.  Other people who have eyes will probably look at her,” Suguru remarks.

Satoru looks over at him with a dull glare behind his shades.

“Don’t you think you probably scared poor Haibara over nothing?” 

“He said she told him she was shopping.  For something private” 

This explanation does nothing to give Suguru an understanding on why his friend was acting more unhinged than usual.

“You think maybe it’s time to take a break from all these missions you’ve been accepting?” He asks, half-sarcastically.  “I think your head’s gettin’ a little messed up” 

“She told Shoko that she was shopping for a book,” Satoru ignores the comment.  “And when I called her, she told me she was shopping for headphones.  Something she saw online, I guess,” 

Suguru doesn’t say anything this time.  He still thinks Satoru might be overreacting a bit, but clearly, he was having a full on episode over this.

“And then I find Yu, who says she was shopping for something private, and that was why she didn’t want him joining her” 

His brows are furrowed in a knot as he processes all the information he’d just shared with Suguru.  It was all so strange.  (y/n) wasn’t one to lie, mostly because she wasn’t very good at it.  But her shady behavior today puzzled him greatly.

“Satoru,” Suguru stops in his tracks, turning to look at his friend directly.  “(y/n) isn’t a liar.  She sucks at it” 

“Yeah, I know-” 

“So do you think, maybe, she was out shopping for all of those things?” He suggests, like it’s some genius idea he’d just had.  “And maybe she just wanted a little alone time? Maybe she didn’t want Haibara’s company, and that’s why she sent him away?” 

“I mean, maybe, but-” 

“You’re overworking your head.  It’s not good for you,” Suguru chuckles.  “I’m surprised it hasn’t popped right off yet” 

Satoru rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to be worried about a friend-” 

“You’re worried about her because you’re jealous that Yu has a massive crush on her” Suguru barks out a laugh.

“You knew that?” 

“Everyone knows that,” Suguru replies.  “But if you’re so worried, if (y/n) returned his affections, don’t you think she would’ve done something about it by now?” He suggested.  “Exactly,” He spoke again before Satoru could begrudgingly agree.  “They’re just friends.  So don’t go around scaring the under-classmen because you got a little jealous.  It’s not a good look on you” 

“Everything’s a good look on me,” Satoru cheekily clicks his tongue.  “And I’m not jealous of a second year” 

Suguru scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head as he turns to continue their walk.

The bastard was jealous of anyone who looked at (y/n) in any way.  Yu was lucky to have his life. ___

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xoxo - jordie

[blindmagdalena]

Can I request a drabble? The length is up to you, where the homelander meets the reader for the first time, and they have a massive crush on him, and he can hear their heart going so fast and finds it so flattering and makes his ego much bigger than it needs to be. Thank you!!

ohhhhh this didn't entirely turn out the way i expected, but i hope you like it anyways! thanks so much for the request!

2.6k homelander x gn reader, sfw except for homelander's internal dialogue and a wee bit at the end. timeline is either early or pre s1. i know i usually skew towards female readers, but i tried to keep this one entirely gender neutral. let me know how i did, and enjoy! 🖤

Meeting fans is an everyday recurrence for Homelander. It's expected from a man of his station and notoriety. Aside from happenstance encounters during his daily duties, there’s also conventions and meet-and-greets. In addition, every once in a while, Vought employees are given the opportunity to invite friends and family for a tour of the tower. Rarer yet, for the chance to meet members of The Seven. Of them all, Homelander is without a doubt, in his humble opinion, the most enduring among them. Most often it’s children and spouses. For them, it’s the best day of their lives. For Homelander, it’s just another Wednesday.

Nonetheless, he tirelessly grins bright for every sticky-faced child and overgrown fanboy. He salutes diligently for selfies, and signs enough autographs to dry out his sharpie. The movements are automatic by now. Object comes in, object is signed, object is returned. Smile. Salute. You’re the real heroes!

Every single second of it is like the monotonous tick of a clock. Greasy fingers loudly slapping against touch screens, the occasional flash that he pretends doesn’t set his teeth on edge.

He’s handed another piece of paper, he signs it, he offers it back out.

Except you don’t take it. Instead, you’re just staring at him.

Suddenly, Homelander is zapped back to reality, the dissociative clockwork grind coming to a halt. He blinks, looking down, and realizes the paper he’s just signed is an envelope. Beneath his scrawling signature, a previous note is visible: To Homelander. He assumes that’s your name written just below it. It’s a letter for him.

“Oh, haha. Wow. Talk about your bonehead moves,” he says, lifting a gloved hand to playfully knock on his own skull. “Hello, is anyone home?”

You laugh, and he takes the opportunity to actually look at you. You’re bright eyed and as starstruck as any fan, but there’s a sincerity to your smile that’s more noteworthy than most. Your gaze has clarity to it that tells him you’re not just looking at a famous person, you’re looking at him. He likes that. 

Now that he’s actually paying attention, he’s surprised the beat of your heart didn’t hook him first. It’s pounding in your chest, the heat of it giving you a healthy flush all over. He’s willing to bet he could feel the heat of your skin clear through his gloves. Look at you, he thinks, biting back a wolfish smile. He knows already that you’d melt sweeter than ice cream in his hands. He licks his lips, giving you a once over. His eyes move quickly enough that you couldn’t possibly have seen it.

You prove distracting enough that he doesn’t even notice the man at your side until he speaks.

“There, happy? Been begging me for this for weeks,” the man says, giving you a nudge. He grins when he says, “Now you owe me one.” Homelander cocks his head sharply, like a bird of prey catching sight of a rat. “I was not begging,” you say under your breath, visibly flustered. You pull away from his second attempt to nudge you. “Dan, please,” you say, the word stressed in a way that seems to hold meaning between the two of you.

Please what, Dan? How about ‘Please don’t fucking embarrass me in front of the goddamn Homelander’?

Homelander sizes the guy up, subtly quirking a brow. He looks like someone’s intern, or maybe a tech grunt. Flimsy, without an ounce of charisma or presence. He probably would have mistaken the guy for a tall house plant if he hadn’t said anything.

“This your boyfriend?” He asks, maintaining that friendly tone of his. Neither of you seem to notice the edge creeping into it. He taps the envelope absently against his palm. “No! No, no,” You’re quick to say. Homelander doesn’t miss the look Dan gives you at the sharpness of your response. “Just friends.”

He smiles. Woof, that’s gatta sting, huh, buddy? It’s hilarious to think what this guy thought bringing you to Homelander was gonna do for his obvious situation. Did he think it was gonna get him a nice thank-you blowjob, or worse, a relationship? As if you’d have any interest in Dan after meeting an honest to god superhero. Someone you’ve apparently been begging to meet, which certainly paints a pretty picture.

Homelander begins peeling open the letter, but you throw out your hand to stop him, gently touching the top of his. He was right, he really can feel the heat of you through the leather. “Wait! I’m sorry, I just want to say thank you, and tell you that I admire you so much, which is already in that letter, and I’m rambling, and I’m sorry for that too, but I would probably shrivel up and die right now if you read that letter before I’m twenty miles away,” you say, nervous laughter bubbling up towards the end. You belatedly snatch your hand away, twice as flustered as you had been a moment before. He can still feel the lingering warmth of your hand on his.

“Holy smokes, fan behavior much?” Dan laughs, wrapping his arm around you to give your shoulder a little shake. It’s pathetic how desperately he’s trying to make himself relevant right now. Worse than that is how blatantly uninterested in him you are. Homelander very nearly rolls his eyes.

Instead, he purposefully softens his expression. He tucks the letter into his belt, and puts his hands on his hips. “Say, I don’t suppose you’ve seen the courtyard yet, have you? They call it The Garden of Heroes,” he says, leaning in to whisper the last bit to you, as if it’s a secret.

Your breath catches when he leans so near to you, and you shake your head. You give such a sweet little smile, he almost kisses you right then and there. You’re so wrapped around his finger, he’s sure you’d welcome it. He’d love to rub it in the nose of this joke of a man standing next to you, a man who was idiotic enough to deliver someone he clearly wanted right into Homelander’s hands.

Instead, he simply gestures you forward. “Then allow me to finish out your tour properly.”

You look thoroughly enchanted, eyes blown wide, lips parted. “Okay, yes! Sure. I would love that,” you say, excited as can be. You take a step forward, and he maneuvers himself perfectly between you and Dan, settling a hand on the small of your back to guide you. As the three of you walk, he catches Dan’s eye, and tosses him a wink.

For the rest of the walk, he savors the sound of Dan gritting his teeth.

Outside, Homelander gestures broadly to Vought’s expansive courtyard garden. It’s decorated with statues of heroes past and present, staggering monuments kept in pristine condition. He walks the two of you down a handful of rows, but in accordance with his plan, he stops abruptly. Putting his hands on his hips, he blows a raspberry. “You know, the view’s just not the same from down here.” Next, he makes a face, as if this brilliant idea has only just occurred to him, and snaps his fingers before he points to you. “Hey, why don’t you let me show you my view?”

“Your view?” You echo, glancing at Dan, who by this point has taken the very mature approach of outright moping. “Yeah! C’mere, let me give you a real tour,” he says, holding his hand out to you.

“Uh, I don’t think that–” Dan begins, but you’re already stepping past him, taking Homelander’s outstretched hand. With a bright smile, you say, “I’d love that.”

For as eagerly as you accept, you still yelp when Homelander effortlessly hauls you up into his arms. With one arm at your back, and the other supporting your knees, he says, “Hang on tight,” and shoots into the sky so swiftly, Dan is left shielding his face from the swirling winds of debris your ascent kicks up.

At first, Homelander thinks you’re screaming. After a beat, however, he realizes you’re laughing, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck, you’d be choking out anyone else. Gradually, he slows to a stop, hovering dozens upon dozens of feet off the ground, Dan and the gardens below a distant thought. Your breaths are coming in sharp and shallow, and if he thought your heart was pounding before, it’s nothing compared to now. It might just burst right out of your chest.

You’re still working out the giggles, or maybe you’re coming down from a mild hysteria. Either way, you eventually start to breathe more evenly, though your hold around his neck doesn’t loosen whatsoever.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, peering down at the distant earth below. When you turn back to look at him, you look surprised all over to be face to face with him. Homelander, who hasn’t taken his eyes off you, flashes his best hero’s smile. He’s satisfied by the way you fluster all over again, quickly looking away, hyper aware of how close your faces are, the press of your bodies as he holds you. It all happened so fast, perhaps it hadn’t dawned on you when you accepted that you would be so wholly at his mercy, snug in his arms, fifty feet in the air.

Works every time.

Homelander absently taps his fingers where he’s holding your leg. “What’d I tell you? Nothing beats this view.”

“It’s amazing,” you say, lifting your gaze to stare out across the city scape. “I can’t believe you can just… do this. You’re amazing,” you say, and though you don’t meet his eye, the sincerity in that praise strikes right through to the core of him like a hot lance.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, musing on every one of his wonders he could show you. If you think this is amazing, wait until you see what he can do with his strength.

The wind must be loud in your ears, because you look back to him and ask, “What?”

“I said you’re too kind,” he says louder, teeth sharp and pearly white as he lies cleanly through them. You smile, none the wiser, but this time your gaze lingers on his. Your arms aren’t in quite such a chokehold around his neck anymore. You’re leaning against him more easily now, learning to trust the security of his hold.

“Do you do this for all your smitten fans?” You ask. You must think you’re being subtle with the way your fingers are toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, but he feels it viscerally. Whether you know it or not, you’re making it difficult for him to focus, to maintain the facade.

“Smitten?” He repeats, his smile turning a touch sly. “Is that what that letter is about?”

“Oh, god,” you say, lifting your hand from his neck to cover your face. He wishes you’d put it back, keep playing with his hair like that. “On second thought, maybe give me that back. Or burn it.” “No, no, it’s mine now. What’s in it? I mean, I could always just read it now,” he says, taking his arm from your back to reach threateningly for his belt. The lack of support prompts you to secure your arms back around his neck with a cute, distressed little noise.

“To be completely honest, I’d rather you dropped me,” you say, earning a bark of laughter from him. It’s the first genuine laugh he’s had all day. Maybe all week.

“Cahhh’mooooonnn,” he drawls, putting his arm back around you. “It can’t be that bad.” “It’s pretty tragic,” you lament, though your sheepish little smile suggests otherwise. He lifts both brows, stubbornly holding your gaze until you finally exhale a breath that tells him he’s won. “I… God, this is embarrassing. You, uhm… I know that I don’t know the real you, but who you are to the public, and the things you do… You mean a lot to me. You’ve brought me a lot of comfort. Helped bring me out of some pretty dark places, and I wanted to say thank you. For that. For choosing to be someone good when a lot of people weren’t.”

Homelander blinks. It shouldn’t catch him off guard. Your sincerity was what drew him in in the first place. Of course you don’t know the real him. No one does. By that same token, no one’s ever acknowledged to his face that there might be more to him than what Vought spoon feeds America’s braindead population through movies, TV specials, hokey interviews, and every other possible means of exploitation.

You don’t talk like you know him, but you sure as fuck sound as though you’d like to know him.

The silence stretches on just a hair too long, and he sees uncertainty rising in your eyes. He clears his throat, and breaks the sudden tension with a well practiced chuckle. “Well, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it? They save people.”

“Yeah,” you say, and he’s not sure how he can be expected to think when your fingers graze the back of his neck like that. “You’ve always been my hero.”

He’s close to you now, closer than ever before. He can’t smell anything aside from the crisp scent of peppermint lingering on your breath. He imagines you popping a mint between those soft lips in anticipation of this moment, as if you were the mastermind who had orchestrated all of this, and not the other way around. For the first time, he lets you see the way his gaze dips briefly to your mouth. He licks his own lips reflexively.

“Righty then, whelp… You’ve got a choice to make now,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “I can begin our descent, deliver you safely back onto solid ground, back to… Dan,” he says, unable to keep the edge of distaste off his tongue when he drops the name. “And the two of you can go about your day.”

He waits long enough that you’re the one to prompt him with, “Or…?”

“Or,” he picks up, lips curving into a pleased smile. “I can just take you straight home, and you can forget all about whatever he thinks you owe him.”

You bite your lip, stifling a smile. There it is again, the quickening of your pulse, the eager pattering of your heart. Now he can feel the heat of your body against him, seeping through the layers that separate you, teasing him.

“Sounds like I’ll just be going from owing him to owing you,” you say, playing as if you’re mentally balancing the pros and cons between the two. He doesn’t buy it for a second.

Homelander clicks his tongue. “Mmm, mhm, mm. I see. And is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him. For the first time in as long as he can remember, Homelander is genuinely shocked by it. Between the heartfelt letter, the shy smiles and the generally reserved way you’d handled yourself, he really didn’t think you had it in you. Yet here he is, melting into the press of your lips–they’re as soft as they looked–and pulling you closer, deeper. 

A noise dangerously close to a whimper escapes the back of his throat when you push your fingers up into his hair. He opens easily to the first swipe of your tongue, reciprocating without hesitation. What he had previously interpreted as shyness strikes him now as finely measured control.

You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?

By the time the two of you part, you’re both breathing in shallow, warm huffs against the others lips.

“I’m good with risks,” you say, voice low. “Are you?”

Homelander, wild-eyed and hard as a rock, laughs airily. “Fuck yes I am.”

You smile, making no attempts this time to hide it, and finally, Homelander sees deviousness to the edges of it that he did not notice before. “Good. Then take me home.”

With goddamn pleasure.