#because there’s nothing to look forward after that

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 1

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Chapter Summary: You encounter an unexpected visitor in your home.

Chapter Word Count: Over 2.8k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, breaking and entering, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: Welcome to the Turn It Up AU! Thanks to @starlightcrystalline for helping bringing this unhinged Bucky to life and @targaryenvampireslayer and @tavners for the support. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You yawned as you flipped on the light switch in your apartment and set the keys on the table. It was early, but you were ready to settle in for the night after a busy shift. Maybe you could make a cup of tea and curl up with a book to unwind after dinner. Or maybe even a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine.

If only Addison could hear your thoughts now. She’d tease you for not living it up and enjoying the single life. Nothing new.

Your mouth fell open as you walked into the living room, but no sound came out as you skidded to a stop. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest and plummeted to your stomach at the same time as your phone fell from your hand. It was like you couldn't breathe. Because a man was sitting on your sofa.

And you lived alone.

“What…” you exhaled, no louder than a whisper.

The man didn't speak as he stared at you. He didn't even blink. The staring contest gave you a moment to take in his appearance. Intimidating even though he was sitting, his dark suit looked tailored to perfection on his broad frame. Dark brown hair framed his face and matched the stubble on his face, with the exception of a few gray hairs. The dangerous glint in his hard blue eyes did little to put you at ease, but there was something soft there as well.

In any other circumstance, you would've said he was handsome.

You bent down to pick up your phone before he let out a tsk, a subtle warning for you not to try anything. “Who are you? Why are you in my home?” You asked as you straightened up, hoping your tone didn't betray how terrified you were.

Nothing looked out of place. If he was there to rob you, there wasn't much worth taking. While you weren't struggling, you were far from rich.

He smirked and leaned back further into the cushion, his eyes roving over your body. You hadn't noticed right away, but the hand draped on the back of the sofa appeared to be metal. Or was it a glove? He didn't have to stand for you to know he was larger than you. If things got physical, you wouldn't stand a chance.

“Okay…” If he wasn't going to give you any sort of answer or clue as to who he was or why he was there, you’d just leave. You could go to a neighbor’s place or Addison’s to call the cops. But he didn't seem to like it when you took a step back since he pinned you with a glare and crooked his finger, beckoning you to go to him.

Your legs wobbled with the first step, but you righted yourself as you continued to move forward. If he noticed your misstep, he didn't acknowledge it. You swallowed, worried that bile would rise to your throat from how sick you felt when you stopped in front of him. That feeling only grew when he leaned in to grip your waist and roughly pulled you toward him.

A scream escaped this time around, but his hand clamped over your mouth to smother the sound. The cold fear that trickled down your spine would stick with you for days to come as he pulled you onto his lap and shook his head with another tsk. There was no mistaking the evident lust in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours.

What was he going to do to you?

You put your hands on his shoulders to push yourself away, but the hand on your hip held you tighter. You squirmed in his lap before you brushed against the outline of his cock, your body stiffening when he let out a low groan. With wide eyes, you decided moving wasn't a wise decision.

“Keep moving your hips if you want, but don't scream again,” he warned, his deep voice rumbling from his chest as you breathed through your nose. “There’s time for that later.”

Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded faster. You wished you could've stopped the tears from filling your eyes, but you weren't that strong. Was he going to hurt you? Kill you? If so, why?

The brunette cooed as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? But I will gag you if I remove my hand and you scream again,” he promised, his tone lighter than a moment ago. “Blink once if you promise not to scream.”

You blinked, another tear falling from your eye.

A pleased look crossed his face when he removed his hand and you complied. “Good girl,” he whispered and you ignored the new kind of shiver that rolled down your spine. “I didn't mean to startle you, but I couldn't wait any longer to see you.”

You exhaled as he used his thumb to wipe the tears away, your body still stiff as you focused on trying to stay calm. Couldn't wait to see you? You had never seen this man before in your life. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Bucky Barnes. And don't worry. I already know your name.” He smirked as he rested his hand on your cheek. You managed not to flinch at his calloused touch. “Did you have fun at my club?”

Confusion flickered in your gaze. “What?”

“My club, The 107th. I own it. Did you have fun?” He asked again, looking at you expectantly.

The 107th was the most luxurious and expensive nightclub in the city. Chic and glamorous in design with a friendly staff who waited on people hand and foot, you felt like royalty as you hung out in the VIP section. The upscale venue wasn't one you frequented often. In fact, you had only been once.

For Addison’s bachelorette party.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied, still confused as to what he wanted. “It’s a nice club.”

He hummed, his thumb brushing across your trembling lip. “I’m glad to hear it, but you didn't seem to have as much ‘fun’ as your friends. Did you?”

You nursed your drink as you gazed out at the dancefloor from your seat. The place was packed, the strobe lights flashing over the crowd in various hues as they grinded to the beat. You adjusted the hem of your short black dress as you debated going out to dance. You decided against it since you weren't looking to hook up.

“Come on! Another shot!” Addison yelled, adjusting her tiara on her head. She was lucky the “bride to be” sash was still on straight. “Shot, shot, sh-sh-sh-shot!”

You giggled as she plopped down beside you. “I did a shot. I'm fine,” you hollered back.

Your best friend grumbled something you couldn't make out as she put her head on your shoulder. “But you aren't even driving.”

“I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow,” you argued, thanking the server as she brought another bottle.

“Ugh. If you won't drink, at least get laid,” Addison whined a little. “You're wearing a slutty black dress and everything.”

You looked around at the group. Addison was the only one in white since she was the bride. Everyone else wore black. They looked great, but you weren't dressed to get any sort of attention.

“Yeah! Get fucked!” Dana shouted.

“Is that encouragement or an insult?” You teased, glancing at the small blinking light in the corner of the VIP section. You didn't notice it before.

“Raise your hand if you think our girl should get laid!” Addison announced, raising her hand high and spilling some of her drink on the seat. “Whoops.”

The group raised their hands as you attempted to clean up the small mess. “I’m not hooking up with anyone tonight,” you said to their disappointment. “This night isn't about me and my love life.”

“Your love life? Babe, it doesn't exist!” Addison grabbed your left hand and held it up to stare at your bare ring finger. “I don't get it. You're the only one not engaged or married yet. And you're, like, the sweetest one in our group. And you're so pretty! It’s not fair that you don't have a man. You deserve one.”

“And sex!” Dana chimed in. “You deserve lots of sex!”

You gently pulled your hand away and pushed down the sadness that surfaced at the reminder that you were the only single one left of your friends. You didn't know why you hadn't met the right one yet. It wasn't like your standards were too high and you were a good, loyal partner. You wouldn't say you were supermodel gorgeous, but you were pretty. You knew how to have a good time.

Right?

Addison's lip wobbled when she saw the look on your face. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. I didn't mean anything by it,” she rambled, hugging you from the side. “I just want you to have what Brady and I have. I want someone to love you.”

Guilt crept in before you shook your head and flashed your best smile. You know she wasn't trying to make you feel bad and you didn't want to ruin her night. “And one day, I will. Someone will love me the way Brady loves you and I’ll love him, too,” you assured her, giving the other girls a shrug and wishing they'd stop with the pitying stares. “Shots?”

“Shots!”

Your eyes briefly went back to the blinking light before you put a small smile back on your face. Addison was having fun and that was what mattered. You could worry about yourself and your feelings tomorrow.

“I’m sorry, but did my friends and I do something wrong?” You asked, dodging his question. You booked and paid for the section well in advance. Your group danced around in the area, and behaved overall and kept to yourselves. The server got a nice tip at the end of the night.

So what was the matter?

“Not at all,” he said, tilting his head. “I’m just sorry I couldn't introduce myself to you that night.”

“I don't understand. You broke into my home just so you could introduce yourself to me?” You asked as he traced small circles on your hips, the motion making your head spin a little. “How do you even know where I live?”

He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before he got serious again. “I have my ways. And I can be a little intense and forward at times, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, your eyes wide again. What was wrong with this man?

“Okay, Bucky,” you said slowly, seeing something wicked flash in his eyes when you said his name. “Being intense and forward doesn't excuse breaking into my home. And since my friends and I didn't do anything wrong at your club and you formally introduced yourself, I think it's time for you to leave.”

A second passed before he shook his head. “No, doll. It’s time for you to get the love life and man you deserve.”

Fingers brushed your throat as you struggled to take your next breath. “What did you say?”

“I'm going to take you out to dinner tomorrow so you can get to know me and you’re going to wear the dress I bought for you,” he explained as if he didn't hear you, nodding toward the hall. “It’s waiting for you in your bedroom and, yes, it’s your size.”

How did this man have the nerve and how long had he been in your place? “You went into my room? You-”

“And I bought you that perfume you recently ran out of. I know how much you love it. I know everything about you,” he continued, running his nose along your neck as your blood ran cold. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

You moved back, desperate to get away as your stomach twisted. He didn't let you get far, easily yanking you close again. How did he know anything about you? How did you catch his eye?

The blinking light in the corner of the VIP section …

“And if I say no?”

Bucky pulled back, his eyes calculating as he studied you. “I’m not going to force you into going out with me. It’s your choice to say yes or no, but I want you to think carefully about that choice.”

Dread pooled in your gut. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I obviously know where you live and I can get in and out undetected,” he pointed out. You wondered now if this was the first time he had been in your place. “I also know where your friend Addison and her fiancé, Brady, live.”

A wounded sound escaped at the thought of anything happening to your friends. “Please, leave them alone.”

“And the shop you work at, I know where it’s located. Those floral arrangements you make are stunning. Your boss even gave you a raise recently. You should be proud,” he smiled.

Your eyes watered again. The man was certifiably insane. Maybe this was a sick joke or a bad dream. Soon you'd wake up in your bed.

But the iron grip on your body reminded you that this was very real.

He waved a hand dismissively. “But we both know you’ll make the right choice because you're a good girl… a smart girl,” he said like he hadn't just threatened your friends or livelihood. “Just take the night to think it over. Have a glass of wine and draw yourself a nice bath while you do.”

He surprised you by moving you from his lap to the sofa. His hands and eyes lingered on you momentarily before he released you and stood up. Towering over you, he gave you a tender smile as he buttoned his jacket.

“I’m going to lock the door behind me when I leave and I’ll be back tomorrow at 7pm so you can give me your answer. And if you try and tell anyone I was here tonight, I’ll know about it,” he said, grasping your chin when you tried to look away. “It’s taking all of my control not to drag you to bed, but I can wait a little longer.”

Fear prickled the back of your neck as you tensed up. “You couldn't just ask me out like a normal person?”

You almost regretted asking when he narrowed his eyes, but he huffed out a laugh. “Where's the fun in that?” He winked as you shrank back in your seat. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won't hurt you. And you know what? I just thought of something. You still need a plus one for the wedding. I’m free. I’ll get a suit to match your bridesmaids’ dress. We’ll look perfect together. And Addison will be so happy that you aren't going alone.”

His tone was light and happy like it was a suggestion and not an order, but the ferocity in his gaze had you trembling. “Why are you doing this?” You asked above a whisper.

“Because I want you and I get what I want,” he said as a matter of fact, releasing your chin. “Like I said, it's time for you to get the love you deserve. And I know you'll give it to me in return.”

It was like your spirit floated out of your body as he bent down to kiss your forehead. You couldn't move or speak. Was this what shock felt like? Or was it complete and utter fear?

You stared ahead as he picked up your phone and unlocked it with your passcode. He knew that, too? “Can’t leave without giving you my phone number,” he smiled, putting his information in before he set the device down. You didn't respond. Once he was gone you could scream and cry. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, 7pm. Get some rest. You'll need it.”

Even as he left you alone and locked the door behind him as promised, you didn't move from your spot as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't dare go to your bedroom to see the gifts he left for you, your hand shaking as you wiped at your face. The scent of his cologne lingered, as did his touch. It was like his shadow covered you, leaving you cold and afraid. Your home was no longer safe.

You weren't safe.

With his subtle threat looming over your head, you’d have no choice but to go out with him. Maybe he’d get bored of you quickly and move on. Or maybe not. You had no way of knowing. All you knew was that your average life was upheaved by the owner of The 107th.

And you were going to be his girl whether you liked it or not.

Bucky isn't wasting time. Where is he taking you on your first date? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[zyafics]

play fake | part ten

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a girlfriend in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content series, 18+, eventual smut, angst, jealousy, fake dating trope, ward cameron being a bad father, rafe and sarah rivalry — reader type hyper-independent, people pleaser, smart mouth, stands on business, mysterious past — rafe's characterization insecure, possessive + jealous person, asshole, mood swings

"You're starting to piss me off, Top."

Rafe's agitated. For the past couple hours, he's been in a back-and-forth with his father, talking about the prospects and future of Cameron Development. He hasn't heard anything bad about him, which is an improvement from their last meeting, but he hasn't heard anything good either. It's as if the moment Sarah came back to the picture, Ward Cameron forfeits all care regarding his eldest son.

He needs a break. But he hasn't been able to contact you. After Topper sent him a vaguely-urgent text to come over, Rafe arrives at the Thornton estate with better expectations.

"Me?" Topper gestures to himself, appalled by the declaration. "I'm trying to be a good friend here and help you out."

"By what? Lying?" Rafe snaps, getting a minor migraine due to the music blasting from the inside of the house. This, in combination to the smell of weed and alcohol wafting through the air, isn't helping his journey towards sobriety. "Was this some pathetic attempt to get me to your party?"

"I wasn't lying, I swear to you, man, I saw—"

His words were cut short by a powerful thump. It causes everyone in the room to turn and when Rafe follows, instead of discovering the source, he finds you.

His brows immediately draw together as he takes you in. Disbelief crowning his features. The look on your face is pure panic, as if you didn't expect to see him here. He wants to ask for the reason, the words on the tip of his tongue, but when his eyes finally drop to find a man's hand wrapped around your wrist—it finally registers that you are with someone.

What the fuck are you doing?

Rafe doesn't say anything at first. With a clear mind, he's taking everything in and processing. For once in his life, he doesn't jump to wild assumptions and stew in his own jealousy. He has you to thank for that.

Because Rafe trusts you. He doesn't believe this could be some romantic fluke you're trying to get with. It can't be. With a tilt of his head, almost indiscernible to the rest of the public, he seeks inquiry from you. Your lips part but no words came through.

The Kook beside you—who he recognizes as Garrison from the Island Club—pulls you towards the sitting lounge on the back porch, furnished with wicker sofas and chairs, and settles down at one of the unoccupied seats. You land on the soft cushion with a thud, facing forward, intentionally avoiding his gaze.

Rafe scoffs.

He steps away from his conversation with Topper, not needing to acknowledge the smug look on his best friend's face, before rounding the furniture to stand in front of your date.

"Move." Rafe commands, his voice low and rough, but held enough authority to make the Kook lift his head.

"There's a spot right there," Garrison points to the opposite chair, but Rafe doesn't entertain the suggestion.

"I didn't ask. I said move."

"No." Garrison grumbles stubbornly, leaning back against the backrest and placing a hand over your exposed thigh, a product of your short work attire. Rafe notices your muscles stiffening under the Kook's touch but you don't push him away as he expected you to.

His expression sharp, his anger rising. "If you don't fucking move—"

"Rafe." You murmur, grabbing his hand. He peels his eyes off of Garrison and settles on you, taking in your pleading features, your gentle expression. You're silently asking him to not make a scene, to not do something stupid, and normally, he wouldn't obey. But something about your acknowledgement calms him. "Just take the seat."

With his lips pressed together in a thin line, Rafe reluctantly listens and takes the chair adjacent to yours.

You relax, slightly, but Rafe can tell you're still on the edge. Your leg bounces incessantly against the hardwood floor of the patio deck and you refuse to look at him. Rafe, for the life of him, can't understand why.

But he settles that it's something else. You being here, without notifying him, is something else. It has to be. That's the only thing that makes sense and is keeping him rooted in his seat right now.

"Rafe," Kelce calls out, causing his head to reluctantly turn to his other friend. He holds a beer bottle in his hand and uses it to point at you. "Isn't that your girl?"

Rafe turns back, watching the way your breath hitches in your throat, eyes squeeze shut as if you were just caught. You swallow hard, but you don't answer.

So, he'll do it for you.

"Yeah—"

"It's complicated." You interrupt, meeting Kelce's gaze, but your words firmer than they've been the entire night. This causes Rafe's chest to constrict, him watching your profile and seeing the absolute look on your face. "We're just... trying not to put a label on it."

His jaw tightens, hands drawn into white-knuckled fists. The rest of the Kooks around the patio catch wind of this tension and Kelce lets out a low, depreciating whistle. "Yikes, man."

Now, Rafe doesn't know what to think anymore.

You turn back to Garrison, keeping your voice quiet, but there's an urgency behind your words. "What are we doing here again?"

Garrison abandons his hand on your thigh to throw a lazy arm around the backrest of your seat. "Heard they were gonna smoke," he explains with a flash of a smirk, aimed and targeted at Rafe. "I figure we could take a hit."

You instantly still. "Oh, I don't—"

"You haven't drank anything all night and you don't smoke either? Tell me you know how to have some fun, sweetheart." He teases, the volume of his voice louder than the intended audience. This catches a couple of nosy Kooks to spare a glance in your direction, judgment passing through their expressions, and you go rigid.

Rafe's three seconds away from grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Garrison, but something in him says to remain seated.

"I just haven't had it in a while." You assure with a nervous laugh, leaning forward to put some distance between you and the Kook.

But he doesn't catch the signal. Garrison grins and leans over—too fucking close—to whisper in your ear. Loud enough for Rafe to hear. "Don't worry, I'll help you."

Rafe figures this is some dick-measuring contest between him and Garrison; that, after his order to the Kook, it bruised his ego and he's now getting back at Rafe by talking to his girl. By reminding him that you are with him, and not Rafe.

Normally, there's no woman that made him care enough about that type of bullshit, but with you, he fucking does.

Topper and the others settle down around the lounge and start passing around the blunt. They each take a hit and spread it around counterclockwise.

Despite the reluctance, you square your shoulders in preparation to participate. Your eyes follow the lit joint with precision, waiting, anxiously trying to pull your nerves together. When Rafe's nearby neighbor hands him the blunt, he puts it to his lips and inhales a sharp breath. Holding in.

Since you're next, you meet his gaze and extend out your hand.

But it didn't go as planned.

Rafe takes the opportunity to catch your wrist and pulls you close, sliding his hand up your cheek before capturing your lips on his. He expects to be met with resistance—especially with your little date sitting next to you—but you simply melt into his touch. He takes it as a cue to exhale, and the smoke enters into your system.

Taking a step further, Rafe grab your hips, hauling you onto his lap, away from the handsy Kook that has no fucking business touching what his. All of this done in one swift motion, without breaking the kiss.

Complicated.

He fucking hates that word.

When you finally pull away, you choke up with a cough, gasping for fresh air. Rafe doesn't bother to offer you the blunt, handing it off to the next person, while you try to recover against the sleeve of his shirt.

"Really?" You say quietly, feeling his hand rested firmly against your waist. He tips his head back, meeting your gaze, and a satisfied expression settles over his face.

"You shouldn't have been with him in the first place."

"All of this for a pretend act?"

He hates that you're referring to the relationship as fake. That it still means so little to you. He doesn't let it show that it ticks him off.

"At least someone will get the message."

You don't respond, especially when he's pointedly accusing you of something you can't deny. Rafe's expression is inquisitive, waiting for you to fill in the missing gaps, on why the fuck you're with Garrison at all, but you say nothing. Own up to nothing. You simply turn away, unable to meet his confrontation.

Rafe squeezes your hips. "Sweetheart," he says with a firm warning, and despite the word coming off as a caution, you soften at the nickname. The usage spoken by its rightful owner.

You can't believe you're swooning over his possession, but you blame it on the haziness from the kiss, or the marijuana entering your body after years of discontinued use. However, deep down, you know it's something else.

That maybe it's his word and he owns you completely.

"Can we talk later?" You mumble into his shoulders, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. "I'm getting dizzy."

Rafe scoffs, seeing this as a blatant attempt at avoiding the question, but you bury your face into the crook of his neck, almost as if you're seeking refuge in him. He couldn't force you to speak after that.

For the next hour, you remained seated on his lap. You once tried to move off but his grip around your waist was too firm to displace and you didn't bother to attempt again. It made Rafe proud. Like whatever drew you to Garrison in the first place has ceased to exist and you returned rightfully back in his arms.

This beam of pride wasn't helped by the fact that Garrison's been glaring at Rafe. But he had no strength nor power to do anything about it. Rafe scoffs. Fucking pussy.

In the middle of the smoke session, Rafe receives a call. He pulls out his phone from his pocket to see it's from his father. With a short glance in your direction, Rafe pulls you off his lap and you claim his seat while he steps out for a moment to take it.

When he returns, you’re gone.

"Where is she?" Rafe snaps at Topper, expecting one person to have seen you leave, but his best friend was preoccupied with a girl on his arm. When Rafe calls out to him again, with a sharper tone, the blond's gaze shifts to your empty seat, and shock overrides his features.

"Fuck, man, I–I don't know," Topper stammers apologetically, but it doesn't subdue the anger rising within Rafe. His fists bundled at his side, his teeth grinding against each other. It can't be a coincidence that Garrison also happens to be missing as well.

Rafe's pissed at his best friend for not being aware, especially when Topper brought him here in the first place. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to find you.

"You're fucking useless," Rafe growls, before descending into the crowded house. The music is louder, pinching at his nerves, and the thongs of people aren't helping him narrow down his search. But he's a head taller than most and, with a quick scan of the crowd, he knew you wouldn't be here.

Where the fuck could you be?

He looks through the rooms instead, starting at the first floor. Each time he came across a vacant space, he grew more frustrated and upset. His knuckles ache from how hard he's been clenching down, and his adrenaline is spiking. He was going to lose it if he doesn't find you soon.

Because he has ideas, and he doesn't want to think of any of them.

When Rafe ascends to the second floor, it's much quieter. Emptier. Like you couldn't possibly be here. But when he kick-opens the third door, that's where he discovers you in a bedroom with the Kook, his back sprawled out over the mattress.

You're a few feet away from Garrison, ready to abandon him, when you flinch at the sudden sound of a door slamming into the wall. You freeze. Turning, with all the colors drained from your face, you expect to be caught—perhaps by a friend of the Kook or even the cops—only to find Rafe.

You don't know if that's any better.

Before you could even blink, Rafe grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, forcing a larger distance between you and the drunken Kook knocked out on the king-sized bed.

"Leave," Rafe demands, his tone eerily calm, like the sound of a volcano bubbling before it erupts.

Garrison winces, pressing the heel of his hand into the side of his temple as he drags himself into a sitting position. "God, could you just give me a minute—"

"Leave before I fucking kill you."

The Kook, even with the copious amount of alcohol and weed in his system, wasn't stupid enough to ignore the threat. He knew Rafe’s reputation. Scrambling to his feet, he rushes out of the door.

The air in the room stills, as if all the oxygen was sucked out and all that's left is you and Rafe. His grip around your wrist hasn't loosen, firm and tight—afraid you'll leave again—and when his gaze pulls away from the door and settles onto your face, you hold your breath.

"What are you doing?"

Panic rises as a bile in your throat, constricting your airflow. You can't explain to him what you just did; how shameful you feel because of it. Instead, you deflect.

"What are you doing?" You say, trying to project a stronger voice, to make it sound normal. To pretend everything's fine when it's falling apart. "You said you were done with parties."

He can't believe you're doing this right now.

"I am," he snaps, his breathing ragged as he takes you in. See if you did anything, if there's any signs, but he finds nothing. "Top called me because he saw you at his party and you never show up to these types of things. So, let me ask you again. What are you doing?"

You don't answer.

Rafe exhales sharply, exasperation floods his features while his paranoid runs free. He knew he was going to crush your hand if he held on, so he released you, taking a step back to control himself.

"You wanna hear what I think?" Rafe prompts, his voice low and drawn-out as he begins pacing back and forth, "I think you thought I wasn't gonna be here so it would be the perfect opportunity for you to fuck some other Kook."

That's exactly what you're afraid of.

You wrap your arms around yourself, hiding. "No."

"And you thought I wouldn't find out but you forgot this is my best friend's house."

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breathing rapid, as your voice grows smaller. "That's not true."

He doesn't listen, his volume escalating in anger.

"And you're talking about all this breakup shit because you're ready to jump on the next fucking dick that can get you what you want."

You shake your head frantically, wanting desperately for him to believe you, but you had nothing to give. Nothing to shelter him and soothe his insecurities.

All you had was your heart.

But you tried. "No, that's not it—"

"Then where the fuck is your necklace?"

You stumble back, the last delivery was so sharp and vicious, it's as if he struck you.

Rafe's heaving, chest caving into itself. His eyes never strays from your face as he continues to pace across the room, waiting, expecting, wanting anything you can say to calm his spiraling state of mind.

You can't.

You know what this looks like. You know exactly what this looks like. This is why you didn't want Rafe to be here. Because, on top of what seems to be Rafe Cameron's Pogue girlfriend cheating on him with another Kook—you knew it would hurt him if he saw it himself.

But you had to.

You peer up at him with a heavy gaze, and Rafe interprets it as guilt. "I know what it looks like—"

He can't fucking believe this.

He can't stand here and listen to your excuses.

Rafe crosses the room to grab your face, with such abruptness, you flinch and drop the watch. It lands on the ground with a muffled thump and all of Rafe's concerns lowers when he follows the inconspicuous sound, finding the expensive timepiece on the ground beside your feet.

His conclusion draws slowly. "Are you... stealing?"

You don't answer, with widened eyes, you pull back from Rafe's grip and take a step back with a heavy breath. You glance down at the abandoned watch and you're about to recover it—but Rafe is too fast.

He picks it up with litheness and extends it far above your head. Impossible for you to reach.

His eyes on you but they soften considerably once he realizes you weren't cheating. You were being a thief.

His command is simple and resolute. "Talk to me."

Your breath is shaky. "It's fine."

"It's fine?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "You just stole a eight-thousand dollars watch and you're telling me it's fine?"

He can't know. He simply can't.

Rafe sees the hesitation in your expression, your lack of response, and he can't believe it. After all the things the two of you have been through, he thought he had earned enough of your trust for you to explain why. Why you're stealing. Why you didn't tell him you needed money. Why it always has to come to this fucking point where he has to confront you and pry the measliest piece of information out of you.

You don't trust him.

And it rips at his chest.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. Disappointment and regret all colliding at once. "You know what, sweetheart? For someone who demands me to talk to them all the fucking time, you sure are a hypocrite for not doing the same."

Your eyes soften. You don't attempt to contest his statement because he's right. He's absolutely right and it stings because you do trust him and you do need him—you just don't let him in.

It's worse.

"You're right." You start deliberately, feeling tears well up in your eyes but refusing to let them fall. You inhale a sharp breath, steadying your voice. "I am a hypocrite."

Rafe didn't expect you to agree so easily. It almost sounds like defeat. He doesn't know which direction this conversation is heading, but he knows he doesn't like it. He recognizes that immediately.

With his guards up, he watches you.

"I..." You stammer to find the words, your emotions overwhelming you. But you don't cry. You can't. "It's not fair to you."

Everything in his head is raising alarm bells. Something about your words makes him panic. The way your voice quavers at the delivery, the fact you're looking to the floor. You don't even seem to care about the watch anymore.

Rafe says your name.

"I think we—"

"Don't fucking say it."

"—I think we might need a break."

"No." Rafe refuses, shaking his head as his arm lowers to his side.

"Rafe, listen, I—"

"I heard what you said," he snaps, his voice raw, and you hear his own emotions lodged thickly in his throat. "I don't accept it. I don't agree. I don't..." He's stumbling to find his own words. To find his own meaning.

I don't want to lose you.

You sigh, dejected. "Rafe."

"No." He turns back to you. His blue eyes are sharp but glossy, as if he's on his own verge of tears. "All you have to do is tell me why and we can move past this. I can understand. I swear."

He's desperate. He's begging you; because if you're leaving him just for this, just because he discovers this, he'd rather you have fucked the Kook than put him in this misery. At least with that he can be angry.

But all he feels is pain.

"Just talk to me."

You exhale deeply, simply shaking your head. "I can't. It's my problem."

"Make it my problem, then."

For some reason, there's a bloom of hope. That maybe he wants you more than what he's told you. So, you try. You try this one time.

"Why, Rafe?" You ask softly. "Why do you care so much?"

Rafe looks at you, searching your face, and while he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he can't seem to put down his pride. The idea of being vulnerable. You've done nothing but demonstrate to him that he means very little to you, that you barely let him in, and if he says it first, it means he'll get rejected first.

He can't handle that.

So he takes the easy route.

"Because we're fucking."

Your heart breaks even more.

You swallow hard. You promise yourself you wouldn't be the one seeking it out first, especially in this relationship, but you try again. You try one last time. "Is that all?"

He can't look at you when he answers. "Yeah."

You press your lips together, nodding to his confirmation. You got what you asked for: the same fear you're afraid to discover. You're going to take his words at face value because what else is there to do?

"That's what I thought."

It's too painful. To continue to stay in this room with him, after he made his feelings known. After you recognize how absolutely fucked you are regarding your own. You need to leave.

You don't say anything else as you move past him, taking the watch from his loosened grip on the way out. You stop at the doorway, staring at his broad back, hoping, silently pleading, he would turn around and change his mind and confess his feelings right there, but he doesn't.

Because he's Rafe Cameron.

And he simply doesn't have any for you.

You exit out of the door and close it behind you, needing that extra barrier of space. When you descend down the grand staircase, you hear a muffled fuck! so loud, it shakes the entire mansion. 

But you don't look back.

You just leave.

—

Once you park in the driveway, you stay in the car for the next few minutes. You just needed some time to yourself. To readjust. To figure things out.

You honestly don't know how you made it home. Your mind was on full auto-pilot the moment you stepped out of the Thornton estate, and you can't remember driving down the narrowed roads, stopping at the traffic lights. You're just here.

You know your next step should be to go inside and get some rest. You need it to wake up early tomorrow and go to a local pawn shop to trade the timepiece for cash. Even as you're dealing with the emotional fallout of you and Rafe's argument, you didn't have the time to delve into the specifics of your heart.

You need to remain focused. To stay on track. Remind yourself that you've successfully stolen a watch from a Kook—whom you don't even know the name of—and prayed all the shots you fed him would be enough for him to forget. To wake up tomorrow with black-outed memories.

This is supposed to be a victory.

Why does it feel like a hollow one?

Your fingers clutch the stolen watch in your hands. Your nails scraping across the gold-plated case, the recognition of the brand behind the thick glass. Rafe's right. This alone could afford to pay off a payment to Aaron and he would leave you alone.

You exit from your beatdown car and make the short walk to the porch. The lights inside the house were off, probably because it's so late and your sisters are off to bed.

When you stop in front of your front door, all the hair on your neck stands. Something feels off. You take a step back, hearing the familiar creak in the floorboard of your wooden porch you always avoid. That calms you down for a second. That perhaps you're overthinking it because of the fight.

You pull the keys out of your bag, and you're about to slip it through the lock, when you realize something.

The door is cracked open.

It's a small gap, almost undetectable by a passing glance, but it was enough to disengage the locks and grant full access to your house.

Your heart starts to race once you realize something is wrong and your intuition was correct. You replace the keys inside your bag, your shoulders squared and your stance on defense, before you shove the door open.

And what it reveals is a complete mess.

Furniture is flipped all over the place, broken glass scattered across the carpeted floor. The bookshelves attached to the walls have been ripped off, their decors and old books thrown all around. The screen on the TV has been kicked in, cushions have been ripped apart with fluff all over the ground, and the kitchen cabinet doors have been torn off their hinges with shattered plates.

All you hear is the sound of your rapid breathing while you take in your surroundings, blood coursing through your eardrums. It's all on you.

Before you hear a muffled wailing.

Realization dawns on you.

Your sisters.

You drop everything and run to the source, approaching their bedroom and nearly tripping over your discarded belongings in the middle of the narrowed hallway. Once you reach the room, you kick-open the door.

There you find Amara, standing in the middle of her equally-destroyed room, in absolute tears.

But Leilani is nowhere in sight.

Your panic skyrockets.

"Where's Leila?" You ask your weeping sister, her fragile voice hitched with heavy hiccups and incoherent mumbles. "Where's your sister?"

You sink to your knees in front of her, cradling her soft cheeks, shaking as you brush away her tears. "Please, Mara. Talk to me. Where's Leila? What happened?"

She offers nothing more than the frantic shake of her head. Words unable to spill from her mouth. She can't talk. She can't even stop crying. She just experienced something traumatic and you're over here drilling her for answers.

No, this is your responsibility to bear.

Knowing you won't learn anything, you rise to your feet and rush out the bedroom door, screaming out your sister's name. "Leila! Leilani! Where are you?!"

No answer. The only sound is the low hums of the broken air conditioner, and you go into your room to search. You find a similar mess: drawers pulled out, clothes all over the floor, the mattress on your bed flipped over, but nothing of the twelve-year-old girl.

Your heart is pounding viciously against your heart, so hard, you think it's going to burst. Your hands are growing clammy. Your breathing unstable.

But you can't think about that.

You check in the bathroom, the closet, any places she could be hiding and coming out completely empty. It's almost as if she disappeared.

What the fuck do you do?

It doesn't take a genius to know this is Aaron's doing. His warning. That it's nearing the end of the third day and you still haven't gotten him his money. This is him trying to scare you.

And it's working.

You can't help but think of the worst possible scenarios. Leilani is the most like you. She's growing into her own person but she mimics most of your behavior. She's cautious, and full of wonder, but she talks back without turns and she has this bleeding sense of justice you never want her to lose.

But you're afraid that same attitude you love about her is what got her into trouble. That Aaron might've caught her smart mouth and taken her as retribution.

You can't help but descend down this spiraling theory. Your breathing grows ragged and shallow, like the air is sucked from your lungs, and you swallow hard—but something hard is lodged at your throat.

You can't breathe.

You can't breathe.

You can't fucking breathe.

You run out to the living room, holding onto the walls as crutches and you fall to your knees in front of your bag, searching for your phone. Tears pricking your eyes, blurring your vision, and your fingers tremble as they attempt to type the passcode. You got it wrong twice before being granted access.

What do you do now?

Your first instinct is to call your parents, to dial up the memorized digits of your mother's and seek their help. But you can't.

Because they're dead.

You're heaving with this daunting reality that you have no one. That you can't help no one. And it's absolutely shattering.

Your heart is hurting; throbbing against the side of your skull. You hear Amara's constant sobs between the walls, echoing through the empty house, and your heart is clutched with this indescribable pain from missing Leilani—like you had a limb ripped off your body.

You can't help her. You can't even help Amara.

You can't help anyone.

"Fuck," you swear under your breath, brushing away the blurring tears in your eyes. Exhaustion bleeds through you but you’re still trying to figure this out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You think you're going to lose it. You're going to breakdown right then and there, in the middle of your disgusting living room, cradling your phone, wishing you still had your parents. It's a rock bottom you didn't expect to have.

But then, you hear the familiar sound of a creaky floorboard.

And you raise your head.

Just to see Leilani with Rafe.

"Leila?" You breathe out, immediately standing on your wobbly knees as you rush to your little sister and cradle her face in your hands, trying to find something tangible to hold onto, before letting out the largest sigh of relief.

She's okay.

Other than a small cut on her forehead, she looks to be in perfect health. She's here, in your hands, alive, and not taken hostage. That's honestly all you could have asked for.

But something in her expression boosts an edge of concern. Not for herself, but for you. You hate the look in her eyes, as if the roles were reversed and she had to be taking care of you.

You refuse to crack. You have to remain strong. For them.

Pulling back, you finally turn to acknowledge Rafe. He stands beside your sister, silently observing this entire interaction, saying nothing, offering nothing.

You don't know how they ended up together, or why, but you were glad she was safe. That she was with him.

And honestly, you're glad he's here.

You don't say anything, staring up to him with this timid, hopeless look, and his heart fucking shatters. He's never seen you like this before, so vulnerable, so scared, so afraid of yourself. It's like he's meeting a version of you he didn't know existed.

And it absolutely kills him.

"Baby..." Rafe says with such tenderness, with such care, as if you didn't have the worst fight of your life an hour prior. As if you didn't have your own heart broken by the same man. For some reason, this offer of gentleness is the very proof that you've been broken.

So you break.

And fall right into his arms.

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[babygorewhore]

Greedy

Older! Rafe Cameron x fem reader!

Rafe is normally selfish in bed, doesn’t care about anyone’s pleasure but his own until he meets you.

This is a little blurb. Less than 1k words.

Warnings! Age gap! Reader is 25 and Rafe is 33! Oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Rafe covers your mouth so idk if that’s choking because I’m stupid. Also not proofread because I don’t have the willpower today. Dividers by the sexy, @xxbimbobunnyxx

Rafe normally didn’t eat a lot of pussy; he didn’t usually care enough to. If he didn’t pound someone until they saw stars right away, if he was feeling generous, he would sometimes use his fingers first. But you? The twenty five year old girl who was dog sitting for him, he literally dreamed about burying his face between your legs.

At thirty three, he was very used to female attention. You were different. You interested him, made him laugh and you made him feel…soft. He wanted to take care of you, take away all your troubles and of course fuck you until you literally couldn’t walk. And now, Rafe finally had opportunity after two weeks for you to stay over. It was late and dark outside. He didn’t want a young woman as yourself to drive home and he asked you to stay.

He half expected you to hesitate but you surprised him with a “Yes.”

Obviously, he had a guest room but he needed you in his room. And you didn’t have any clothes to change into to sleep in. So, Rafe told you, “You can sleep in one of my shirts.” You were wearing a Halloween shirt, black skirt and boots. Your nails were painted black, you fiddled with your rings as you stood in the doorway of his room.

He picked out a t shirt, nothing else and held it up for you. “Here. This one is comfortable.” Rafe crooked a finger at you as you lingered on the edge, giving you a smirk.

You cleared your throat and approached him, reaching up for the material.

You did the sneaky girl thing where you changed shirts without actually showing him anything in the corner but he didn’t want to scare you into leaving. However, when you looked at him, shirt only going to your thigh and wide eyes peering at him, Rafe extended his hand to you.

“C’mere, doll. I want you to sit down for me.” He guided you to sit on his bed and you did. He nudged your knees apart with leg and he moaned quietly as your panties peeked through. “Fuck, I guess it was pointless for me to give you that shirt. Since I want to just rip it off,”

You shivered and bit your lip, a tinge of shyness overtaking you. “I didn’t think you noticed me like that.” You trialed off and Rafe snorted with a quirked eyebrow.

“Didn’t notice you? Baby girl, normally I’d never be this fuckin nice. Lean back for me and let me taste your sweet pussy.”

You seem to hesitate for a second and Rafe wasn’t going to have it. “None of that overthinking shit, princess. Be a good girl and lay down.” You laid on your back and Rafe kneeled on the ground, pushing your legs apart. He pulled off your panties, the sticky material in the center and your cunt tightened around nothing.

He leaned forward, licking a firm strip around your clit before he flattened it and gripped your thighs. He pushed your legs up, exposing as much of you as possible as he shoved his whole face in. You whimpered and whined, your hands burying in his hair as he moved his head around and tongue fucked your pussy.

“Being so fuckin greedy, hiding this pretty pussy from me.” He grunts as he slurps and sucks your clit, he buries two fingers inside you and curls them upward. Rafe loved how you bucked your hips, moaned and clawed at him as he lapped your cunt.

He had been fucking missing out and he savored every single drop. Rafe slapped your ass and you cried out, “cream on my face, princess. Then I’m gonna fuck you, get it all wet for me.”

Seconds later and you came all over his mouth. Rafe was relentless as he tasted it, keeping his pace with his fingers as you rode out your high and he pulled away. He didn’t bother to wipe his lips as he crawled on top of you and smashed his lips to yours in a deep kiss.

He tugged down his pants and underwear down, ripping away from your mouth with a pant. Rafe pumped himself a few times before he pressed his dick inside. You mewled and threw your head back as he thrusted, his cock splitting you in half. “Shit, you’re so fuckin tight, baby girl. Squeezing me so hard I can barely move, must of really needed this, huh?” He huffed as he moved.

“Mhm, you could have cum from eating me out,” you pointed out and he latched his lips to your neck, hovering above you.

“Can you blame me? You have a fuckin porn star pussy. Bein all selfish and keeping it from me.” He said against your skin and he covered your mouth with his palm.

Your eyes rolled back as he gave you a particularly hard thrust, his balls slapping against your ass before his cum emptied inside you. Your substance mixed with his as you followed suit, you groaned against his hand as he sloppily kept going.

“Aw, my bunny so cock drunk you can’t talk?” He mocked as he removed his palm. You managed to nod as he wickedly smiled. “I’m not fuckin done, princess. Get on your hands and knees. I think you owe me a few more.”

Tagging, @marchsfreakshow @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @drewstarkeyslut @gri959 @redhead1180 @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @rafesthroatbaby

[jacaerysgf]

Deja Vu | Pt. 1

s.m: You are falling to your death. Your final wish is to be able to go back and stop the war. It seems the gods have granted your wish and you open your eyes to be back to the fateful day before of lucerys trial months before your 'death'. You must do everything in your power to prevent the war even if the only way is to find herself in the arms of the one man she hates most, Aemond Targaryen.

w.c: 8.6k

c.w: minor spoilers for the later seasons of hotd, putting anything else here would be spoilers. but theres nothing too crazy don't worry. NOT PROOFREAD theres smut i promise for the freaks out there.

a.n: this is literally just two freaks trying to see if they can match each others freak, enjoy !

masterlist - part two soon !

d.t ml @venmondiese

You’re falling. How long have you been falling? They say when you die you see your whole life flash in front of your eyes but all you see is the grey sky above you.

You are going to die.

You expect to be more scared. You should be screaming, crying, yelling for help. But as you fall through the skies the one thing you feel is regret. As you watch your dragon be chomped up by vhagar, the way your body burns after being lit on fire, you just saw your brother be knocked off his own dragon into the sea.

Whoever is listening to me now. I will beg of you. If i can only ask for one thing, i wish to go back. To stop this all from happening. To prevent the war. Please. This is all i wish. If in death i only wish to remember the good. Please.

You allow yourself to close your eyes. You shall meet the stranger soon. You expect it to hurt once you hit the ground, yet it does not.

Instead your eyes burst open with a jump and you take many a deep breath.

“Are you alright dear?” You look in front of you with alarm. Your mother and your step father look at you worriedly. What in the hells is happening?

You were just in battle. You look down at your outfit and realize you are wearing the same outfit you had been wearing to the keep when you arrived for Lucerys trial. You look back up and notice your parents also appear to be wearing the same outfits as that fateful day. You were sitting in the same carriage, the same familiar bumps in the road.

Were you replaying your life as some had claimed? But it felt too real. “Sweetheart?” your mother reaches forward. as best she can as viserys sits on her lap, and grabs your hand, “Bad dream?” Maybe it had been all such a terrible terrible dream. “Yes, I'm sorry mother.” She squeezes your hand before letting go, going back go bouncing viserys on her leg.

You lean back and take a couple deep breaths. It was simply a terrible dream. But when you turn to your right you gasp, “Lucerys.” He looks at you with wide eyes, “Are you well sister?”

You cant help but hug him, turning your body towards him so he is practically sitting in your lap, shoving your head into his neck, filling his pulse race against your forehead. “Sister? What are you doing? ow this is uncomfortable!” You ignore his whines as your eyes build up with tears. Months, you have gone months without seeing him, hearing his voice, smelling him, feeling his pulse, you missed him. You missed him so much. “Are you crying?” your tears had begun to drip down his neck and soak into the neck of tunic.

“I had a terrible dream.” You rush out as you sob. Because that's all it was. An awful dream. You feel Lucerys unstiffen as he relaxes in your touch, allowing himself to get comfortable in your lap as it grows clear to him you have no intention of letting him go. you hear him whisper to you “I am alright sister, i promise.”

You say nothing in return, just allowing yourself to listen to his breaths. It is almost as if it was real, him truly dead. You try to ignore the churning of your stomach as he begins to play with the ends of your hair, his head soon drops to your shoulder and you hear his breath relaxing. He’s sleeping. You slowly turn yourself to be facing forward, his head falls into your shoulder as he begins to softly snore. You rub your hands up and down his back as you finally rid yourself of your tears.

“Was your dream truly so horrid sister?” You turn to your left and there sits Jacaerys, next to him sits Joffrey who was fast asleep. You try to ignore the flashing images of arrows pelted into his skill that appear in your mind when you see his face. You reach your hand up and touch his face, your hand lays on his cheek as he blinks at you. “So horrible.” He grabs your hand from his cheek and laces your fingers with his.

“It was just a dream dear sister. Do not fret.”

Yes. That's all it had been. A really awful terrible dream.

Yet it gets harder to deny it was in fact all just a dream as the sequence of events play out exactly the same as they had. How your mother had been greeted at the gate, how your parents told you and the boys to entertain yourselves while they went to go meet with viserys. Even the walk to the courtyard was the exact same save for the way you clung to Lucerys which he was more than happy to let you, as he had his own nerves about being back in the keep.

This was so strange. You watch as Jacaerys eagerly approaches the swords, the way Lucerys looks around anxiously, the way Joffrey trails at your other side. You felt sick.

Your stomach drops, as you think about what you had been praying for. Were the gods truly giving you another chance? To fix this? But how would you even fix this? You know you cannot let it happen as you feel Lucerys tightly grip your hand. You have to do everything in your power to make sure he stays safe, to make sure they all stay safe.

But how would you even go about such a thing? The family is basically beyond repair. You know of what will occur, if you can’t figure this out. You try to come up with anything.

Suddenly you hear the clanging of swords and you whip around. As much as you hate to admit it an idea pops in your head. No. This can’t be it. There must be something else you can do. Not him. definitely not him. Yet you find yourself getting pulled along by Lucerys to watch the fight.

He truly is such a skilled swordsman, you would know you’ve seen him in the fields, even having gone head to head for a moment before you fled. You can barely pay attention to the fight. This is it. If you’re really going through with this you would need to start right here right now. You must be able to come up with something else right? There is no way this is the only option.

“Nephews, have you come to train?”

Your mind comes up blank. You feel Lucerys move to hide behind you as Jacaerys takes a step back.

His eye finally moves to you, “Niece.”

You have no other choice.

You let go of Lucerys and take a step towards him, you put on your best smitten look and smile at him. “Uncle, its been too long.”

You must be bold, you must do anything for your family.

You offer him your hand, it hands in the air for a moment and you fear he will simply brush you off. You’re sure your brother are staring at you confused but you can’t be bothered to care as an amused look graces Aemond’s face and he tilts his head.

He grabs your hand and brings it up and his head far down enough to lay a kiss on the back of you hand. You let the smile on your face grow no matter how much you wish to spit at him.

“You have grown into a beautiful lady dear niece.”

You bring one of your hands to cover your mouth as you look down at the ground. You feel Lucerys tug at the back of your dress but you cannot give up.

“and you have grown into a fine prince dear uncle.”

The sudden marching through the hall should not startle you the way it does. Maybe you had just been so lost in your act you could not remember when it had happened. You watch with blank eyes as Vaemond stares you down, you doubt his fate will change and he no longer scares you the way he once had.

You turn back towards Aemond and see he is already look at you. You smile at him before you turn you back to your brothers. “If you wish to go you can, i wish to stay here.” Jacaerys looks at you with worry, “Truly?” You remember you had all quickly fled to your rooms after seeing Vaemond and you knew he would soon suggest you all head back. yet you can’t go not now, not when you must make this believable.

You nod eagerly and they hesitate, especially Lucerys who truly does not want you to leave but you urge them too, it would not go as well if they were here.

“Shooing off your nephews dear niece? how disappointing.” Aemond finally speaks as you watch them quickly walk away not before sparing you once last glance before they turn the corner.

You hate to admit you think he is handsome. Probably the most handsome man in the realm. When you look at him he has a smirk on his face. “Would it be scandalous to say i wish to just spend some time with you my prince?” He raises his eye brows and a look of surprise crosses his face before it drops back to his more stoic look. He takes another step towards you and the smirk graces his face once more as you bashfully look away from him. “You truly wish to?” No. definitely not. “What if i said i did?” You whisper towards him.

He looks like he about to say something else before a voice cuts in behind him. “The prince still has training to do. He best not be faced with any,” Criston looks at you with a glare which leads you to try to hold back you eye roll, “Unfortunate distractions y/n”

You open your mouth to say something, you are unable to stop yourself, wishing to spit some vile insults at him but Aemond speaks before you can. “It is princess to you ser Cole, best not forget yourself.”

You can’t help the smile that grows on your face and the warmness that spreads though your chest. No. You should not be feeling like this. He simply did it as he knows it is rude to not address you correctly, you know it would certainly make him mad.

It amuses you the way criston bites his tongue and mummers to himself for a moment before speaking again. “My apologies princess.” You nod, not wishing to fight with him as of now. “But the training yard is not a place for, you, it would be best if you left.”

You still think he is talking to you inappropriately but you will not say anything to him for now as you simply turn back to Aemond. “I suppose i shall leave, but will you take long? I wish for someone to show me around the gardens, if you would of course.”

You fold your hands behind your back as you stand up tall, You can not faulter. It would be good to get away for a moment, as you have a request you must make. criston speaks before Aemond does, “I will request a guard for the princess-” “I shall not be too long, though i would hate to make you wait.”

You shake your head a begin to walk backward, the smile on your face growing “I will wait as long as it takes dear uncle, please come fetch me i shall be in the library.” You turn before either of them could say anything else and hurriedly walk up the steps and out of view.

Once you are far enough away from the room you lean against the wall and take a couple deep breaths. You feel sick but you can’t help the way your heart races as you think of the interaction.

Was he always so, charming? Well the last time you had met you had been children. Until the rest of your brothers and step sisters you did not see him on driftmark as you had been bed ridden with a fever during the service and your mother thought you too unwell to travel. You had no clue what happened and you had no clue that would be the last couple moments you spent in the keep as you woke up one day on dragonstone, apparently having been taken while you were asleep.

He was always a meek kid, you being a couple years his senior, never really spent that much time with him. You remember seeing him getting picked on and you would scold your two younger brothers and send an apology to him but beyond that there was nothing too it. He was certainly a grown man now.

No. You shake your head to yourself and slap your cheeks. What were you thinking? This is the man who murdered your little brother. Who slaughtered house strong. You could not be thinking this this. It does not matter. You no matter how much you despised him had to get this done. You do not walk towards the library. Instead you walk far up the stairs until you are stopped by some guards.

“I would like to speak to my grandsire, is he free?”

“The hand should take care of any concerns you have.”

“I am first born daughter of his first born daughter Rhaenyra Targaryen you will allow me entry if he is free.”

You cross your arms and stare at the guards who look at each other before they allow you entry to the room. You have not seen him in years you doubt he even knows who you are. So when you hesitantly enter the room and come into his view you try not to gag at the sight of him. You had forgotten how close to death he looked, it know being clear to you he was on his death bad, basically standing at the strangers doorstep.

“Aemma?” You whine and walk closer to him. “No grandsire it is me, y/n. Rhaenyra’s daughter.”

He is silent for a moment before he lets out an ah and a smile graces his face, allow you to grab his hands and sit on the bed next to him. “Yes yes y/n, my dear its been so long. too long.” You nod and smile as best you can at him. “Yes grandsire i have missed you.” He agrees and squeezes your hands.

“There is a proposal I’d like to ask you of.” You hesitate, this is really it. You have no clue if this is even going to work. But you have to try, even if it kills you you must try. “I am sure you could see how our family has been divided as of late,” You know exactly how to pull at him, how to get him to agree, remembering his speech from the fateful dinner that will probably occur tomorrow. “I hate it. I wish for us to be a family together. Which is why i must tell you. I have been in love with Aemond since i was a young girl. He is the man for me grandsire i am sure of it. So i must ask for your blessing in our union, to grant me my one true wish. To make our family whole.”

You are proud of yourself that you do not throw up. You are sick. You cannot believe you are even asking this. But you have to, you see no other path forward. If you can convince him to be on your side and stop this maybe it could all be prevented. You could be a fool walking into a lions den but it does not matter, you have to try.

“Yes yes that is all i wish for yes you shall marry him. oh the wedding will be beautiful, and we will be all together.” You do not have the heart to tell him he will probably not make it to the wedding. instead just smiling brightly and thanking him, squeezing his hand tightly. “Oh thank you grandsire this makes me so happy.” He nods eagerly before he begins to cough, telling you he needs some rest but as you walk away you can see him fall asleep with a smile on his face.

You are going to be sick. You are going to marry him. If you live long enough to marry him, if he does not kill you first. You try to hide the fact that your hands are shaking so badly and you stumble slightly as you walk as you make your way to the library. You know him to be a ruthless man. A Kinslayer. And now you were going to marry him. You were totally screwed.

You are unable to sit still in your seat, constantly rocking back and forth or tapping you hand and feet as you wait for him. He has no clue you’re sure. and your hopeful your grandsire will tell no one definitely not Alicent or most certainly not otto. You should have said something about it before you left but there is no point on dwelling on it now. as you try to relax in your seat.

“You are truly waiting for me.” You sit up out of your seat and turn to him in alarm. He had changed into more a more formal dark green outfit.

“of course uncle, i was truthful when i said i would wait for you.” You can’t read him. He does not speak for a moment, keeping his gaze stuck onto you, looking you up and down. You feel like he is analyzing you, trying to catch even the most minor slip up from you. Like he can tell you are trying to trick him. You can’t have him thinking like that, so you eagerly walk to his side and smile as sweetly as you can at him.

“I apologize if i interrupted your busy schedule uncle.” He smirks and shakes his head, offering you his arm, “Do your brothers know you are here?”

You shake your head and look at the ground. You do not get to see the pleased look that finds its way one his face until he grabs your chin and lifts your head up to look at him, taking a step closer. You feel your chest tighten. You do not understand why you feel this way, why his stare and the simply tilt of his head as your breath quickening. “How curious.”

He drops your chin quickly and acts as if nothing had just happened, offering you his arm. “You said you wished to see the gardens yes? They have grown rather nicely in your absence.” You hesitate for a moment as he raises his eyebrows with a smirk at your hesitance. You certainly cannot faulter now. you cant let him catch on to you, you can tell he has his suspicions.

You eagerly grab onto his arm and take a deep breath, accidently allowing yourself to be consumed by his addicting scent. You cannot stop the delighted hum that escapes you and your gasp covering your mouth. You are humiliated. You turn your head towards him and notice a different look on his face as he stares at you. He says nothing, simply letting out a hum before speaking, turning his head away from you. “We should head out now, the garden is lovely in the afternoon.”

You are glad he says nothing and simply nod and he begins to lead you out of the library and towards the courtyard. You attempt to ignore the stares and whispers of the maids and other ladies in the hallway as the two of you walk. You’re sure word will spread of the two of you walking arm and arm together, you are already dreading the talking to you’ll probably get from your brothers, your mother and especially daemon.

You cannot think about that now. Not as you finally arrive in the garden and simply begin to stroll through the large hedges of grass.

“I wish to know how you’ve been fairing uncle,” You stop for a moment pressing your free hand against his elbow in your laced arm, “I am embarrassed to say.” You bashfully look away, as if you do not wish to say it.

You are shocked you are able to act so well. Or at least you hope you are. You have to get him to believe you, you hope he is at least slightly convincing by your performance.

Your hopes are somewhat confirmed when his arm grips onto tight and looks your way, “You should talk freely with me my sweet niece.”

You blush at his words, unable to control the heat that flows up to your face. You are only happy he seems to be convinced, yes that is it.

“I have missed you.”

He turns you to face him and your breath stops. You two are chest to chest and he’s staring at you with dark eyes. You can feel his breath fanning on your face as you try to ignore the pounding of your heart at your proximity.

“You should not say such things to just anyone my sweet. Some men will not be as kind as i am after you say such things.”

my sweet.

You attempt to pull out of his arms but he keeps you there firmly. Staring you down as if he was a predator looking at his prey, you can’t help but whine quietly and you hear him hum, his grip tightens on you before he lets go. Taking a step back and coughing into his fist.

“I apologize, i lost myself.”

You can’t do anything but nod. Breathing heavily as if its the first time you can breath in years. You grip onto the spot where your heart is and grip the fabric tightly as your heart beats louder than it ever has. He looks at as stoic as he always does while you must look like a disheveled lady who just got caught in a scandal.

You basically were, feeling so caught by aemond who simply stares at you, his eye never leaving your face as he watches your every movement.

He opens his mouth to say something before a scared maid comes approaching you two, “my prince-” “What is it.” He spits at her, his face leaving yours angrily as he stares at the girl. The poor girl is practically shaking, she bows, “I am so sorry my prince but, the queen has requested your presence.”

His face drops as he straightens up at the mention of his mother. You suddenly notice the eyes you feel staring at you. It gives you a chill which runs down your spine, you look around the gardens for anything and notice nobody other than the maid and of course aemond. Then where are those eyes coming from?

“Of course, tell her i shall be there shortly.” “she requested i walk you to her immediately my prince.” You suddenly turn around and look upwards and you see two pairs of eyes staring right at you. Otto and alicent. How long had they been watching you? Had they seen what just happened between you and aemond? Not that anything had happened. No definitely not. Just two people talking.

“Of course.” You turn back to aemond and give him a nervous smile. He notices the look on your face and tilts his head as he looks at where you had just been looking. He tsks and turns his head away, you swear you see him roll his eye as he huffs. He looks back to you and grabs your hands, you try to pull them out of his grasp, your head flicking behind you, worrying they will see but he keeps you tightly in his grip.

“I am sorry to leave you, i shall see you dear niece.” He pulls your hands to his face and leaves a kiss on the backs of your hands before he drops them and walks off, not even waiting for the maid to follow after him. The maid quickly bows to you before hurriedly running off after aemond. You look back up and notice that the two of them are gone, you let out a sigh of relief praying they had left before they saw any of that.

Maybe you should be hoping they had. Then your act would be more believable. You never thought this would turn out like this. Maybe he just believed you far too much and was no acting on it. You wish you felt a sickness in your stomach, you want to hate him. He killed lucerys. You should hate him, you have hated him these last couple months. Nothing has changed, you do hate him. Do you?

You stand in the garden for a while your mind running a mile a minute. Are you getting so into your act that you're truly starting to believe it?

No. Enough of these foolish thoughts. You hastily move out of the garden, you should just head back to your room and sleep. Its late afternoon, you fake fatigue from your travels to avoid talking to your parents and brothers and lay down on your bed after a quick bath.

You stare up at the ceiling as the thoughts from today come spinning back up. Will this really work? Will this even be able to prevent anything? or are you just doing this for your own selfish gain? No. This absolutely had to work. You could not bare to go through what you had months ago, you still do not even know if anything is even real.

You try not to let your mind spiral and descended into madness as the sky turns from light to dark, skipping dinner. it’s not good to think about answers you will not receive until you see it for yourself. You should just try to sleep, but the way you are tossing and turning your eyes not even fluttering closed you fear you will not sleep a wink tonight.

Suddenly you hear soft knocks laid on your wooden door and you shoot up. For a second you think it may be aemond, you knew of aegons more horrendous personality maybe aemond is of the same mind and wishes to claim something from you? No, aemond is certainly not as depraved as him, you had known he took a mistress during the war, that witch, but if the rumors were true she was the only woman he laid with.

You open the door and let out a sigh. “lucerys.” You do not know if what you feel is relief or disappointment. Why would you feel disappointment? You watch as your brother attempts to smile at you before he looks meekly at the ground. “Can i, can i sleep with you sister? i cannot sleep.” Your heart aches at the sight of him, he had not come to you last time, had he felt the same way and could not sleep but felt like he couldn't come to you? was your over display of affection for him today the thing that gave him the confidence?

“of course you can.” You open your door wide enough and allow him to pass by you where he hurriedly scurried in and flops himself onto your bed. You smile at him as you walk over and lay down beside him. He smiles softly at you and lets out a quiet thank you as you begin to stroke his hair. “Are you alright?”

His face drops and he takes a deep breath, “i am scared. Why do they question us so? I wish we looked more like ser laenor and less like ser harwin then they would not question us, then we would be able to stay at dragonstone together, instead of being here.” Your heart begins to ache, you continue to stroke his hair.

You know of his doubts, his worries, and you wish you could do more to sate is worries. You know the trial will go fine tomorrow, knowing viserys will come to defend his heir, but he has no clue of that. Nor should you but you do.

“Everything will work out luce i promise. Leave it to mother to worry about.” “But i do not wish for her to worry. I wish i could do more for her. Maybe i should not be named heir to driftmark.” You sit up causing him to look at you alarmed. “Lucerys velaryon do not say such things. You are a wonderful boy who shall grow up to be the most honorable man, you should not speak down on yourself.” You cross your arms as your heart tries to be ripped from your chest as you remember. If you do not succeed he will probably be killed, by the man you are trying to court.

This whole thing was ridiculous.

He seems content with what you said and simply smiles at you, his eyes droopy with sleep. “Thank you sister.” You continue to comb his hair with your fingers as he’s lulled to sleep. You press a kiss against his forehead and allow him to press himself into your side.

You can’t allow anything to happen to him. You cannot allow yourself to be swayed by aemond’s charisma. He killed your brother. He was heartless and ruthless, a kinslayer. You cannot be swayed. he does not make your heart thump and have your breath racing.

You almost allow yourself to fall asleep before heavy banging on your door jolts you and lucerys up. You two look at each before looking back the door. “Who could be here this late?” No. He was not here was he? Another set of banging hits the door and you gulp.

There was no way right? You freeze as your hand hits the handle. What would you say if it was him? What would you tell lucerys? What would he do if aemond do if he saw lucerys? What would lucerys do if he saw aemond? you know the two will meet eventually, which did not go well at all, so what if its truly him?

You grab the handle and pull it. Letting out a huge sigh of relief as he storms past you. “You were not at dinner.”

He turns to you his arms crossed, your brother crosses his arms at you in the middle of the room. Baela and rhaena follow into the room, closing the door behind them. “I have been tired all day brother, i wished to rest.”

“You were not tired when you were walking around in aemonds arm rather cozy.” you ignore him, greeting you sister baela and smiles and gives you a warm hug before stepping and crossing her arms at you too. “Not you too.”

“What could you possibly have been doing with aemond?” You sigh and walk back to the bed, sitting on the edge. “I do not know what you wish me to say.” “I wish for you to explain to me why you were with him.”

You sigh and throw your hands up. “I simply wished to see him.” “You wished to see him? are you mad?” “Is that so wrong?” “Yes!”

You flop down on your bed and sigh. You feel the bed bend down next to you and see you jacaerys face staring at you. “you are acting strange sister, i simply am worrying for you.”

“it is so wrong i wish to bond with my other family members.” “They are not like us you know that sister.” You sit up and stare at them. You wish you didn't have to do things like this. You wish you did not have to do this. You wish you did not have to see the look of hurt on rhaena’s face or baela’s glare, or jacaerys anger or even lucerys confusion.

But you cannot give up now. Standing up to glare at the four of them and cross your arms. Your voice tight with anger. “I do not excuse what happened between you all on driftmark if anything i hate him for it. but you will not understand, i simply wish to spend some time with my other family. We should all want to mend what has been broken, bury old hatched and build, if not a loving family relationship, then atleast a civil one. I am sorry that i am the first person to realize that it is no good it would do no good for blood to be bad between is, not for us, not for rhaenyra. or her claim. We as family must have each other's back. and if we are not at least civil with these people they will never support us.”

The four of them are silent and you let out a huff as you fall onto your bed and close your eyes. “If you wish to hover and argue with me you may but you will be arguing with a wall. I know i am right and i will be sleeping. You are free to talk amongst yourselves.”

You roll over and keep your back to them. You feel lucerys get off the bed and you assume the four of them have huddled in a corner, whispering to each other. They would not understand. What you are doing for them. They would not even believe you if you tried. Though you hope your story is believe able enough.

You try to sleep. Though you are unable to knowing they are lingering not too far away from you. You feel movement around you and the door opens, footsteps trailing out before it softly closes. A part of you fears you might have scared lucerys off. but when the bed dips next to you you feel relief. “Can i still sleep here sister?” You turn around and look at his nervous gaze and nod, grabbing his cheek and smiling at him. “of course you can stay.” He smiles and lays down at your side, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

You don’t fall asleep for a while. Simply staring up at the ceiling and feeling lucerys shuffle around in your arms every once in a while. You pray and pray that tomorrow afternoon will go exactly as it had the first time. And for the dinner. You would have to get a lot more creative to try and figure out how to prevent that.

It is now morning and you had been planning on walking to jacaerys room after breakfast before you are suddenly stopped. “Good morning.”

“Good morning my queen.” You bow and attempt to bite your tongue as she gives you what you know now to be a clearly fake smile. “How have you been faring? it has been a long time since we’ve spoken.” “I have been well, as all my family has been, my queen.” She nods and folds her hands behind her back. “I wish for you to walk with me for a few moments.”

It is not a request. She is telling you. So you nod and she walks, not even looking to see if you are following though you are. You know what she wishes to ask. Though you pray your grandsire has not mentioned the proposal to her and she simply wishes to ask what you had been doing with aemond. Not that you would have an explanation for that either.

“I have just been wondering something. if you would clear my head.” The sound of metal clanging behind you would startle you if you did not know criston trailed behind alicent like a damn dog. He should make it less obvious that he is glaring at the back of your head.

Please do not ask about the proposal please do not ask about the proposal,

“I had seen you with aemond in the gardens yesterday, thats curious is it not?” You try to hide the shaky breath of relief you let out. You simply hum , “it is not so curious. We are family after all.”

You act like you do not near the mumbling of ser cole behind you. Something suddenly click to you, he was probably the one who told alicent of your outing with aemond and you grow irritated.

Alicent merely huns though you know there is more she wishes to say. You are silent as she attempt to gather her words properly. You do not even glance at either of them, keeping your gaze forward. Its odd, despite the fact you should be more stressed out talking with the queen you feel more at ease then you were with aemond.

“I suppose you’re right. Its simply been a long time since you’ve been in the keep.” “Exactly the more reason i would wish to spend the afternoon with him. It is rather a shame our time was cut short.”

You don’t get to see the way her eye twitches and the way criston rolls his eyes but you can assume so. “Yes. I am sorry i had to pull him away for somethings..” You can hear how her words are not sincere but you decide maybe you can make her feel bad.

You turn to her with mock shame in your face, “Oh gods i had no clue it was you who pulled him away, i am so sorry i would not have complained if i had known it was you.” She turns to you and has a look of embarrassment on her face, “It is no issue truly, do not fret.”

You smile at her and she gives you a weak clearly forced one back before you turn back forward. It’s fun messing with them.

“My queen.” She quickly turns around where a guard was standing, “Your presence is required in the council room your grace.” She nods before she turns back to you.

“Good day princess.” “Good day my queen.” She scruries off without another glance but ser cole spares you a glare before he trails after her. You sigh and roll your neck out before walking back to your own room, no longer having any interest in speaking to anyone. It would probably be best to have some alone time before the trial anyways.

The trial goes exactly as expected thankfully. Viserys walks up exactly as before, rhaenys says jacaerys and baela and rhaena and lucerys will marry, daemon cuts off vaemonds head. All the exactly the same. It gives you erriry feeling, now you are so sure you have been transported in the past. You keep lucerys hand tightly in yours during the trial though you knew how it would go, allowing him to lean against you in relief afterwards.

The only difference is you can’t help but find yourself glancing at aemond throughout it all. His eyes drift to you as well numerous times, a small smirk finds itself on his face every time you lock eyes. You look away bashfully every time but you always find yourself looking back to him.

You quickly rush out the room after everyone had been dismissed, hoping to avoid everyone. You find yourself in the garden once more, finding a secluded bench and sitting down. Leaning your head back and letting the sun hit your face.

You allow yourself to relax, listening to the sound of the wind and the bugs, breathing in the scent of flowers and grass, enjoying the way the sun and the wind hits you. You don’t know how long you’re lying there. Not until you finally decide to open your eyes and stretch.

You turn to your left and let out a shriek. “Aemond!” He has an amused look on his face as you cover your racing heart with your hands. “I did not mean to startle you my sweet.”

You turn away from him and readjust yourself to be sitting upright, keeping your gaze forward. You merely hum in acknowledgment, not trusting yourself to speak. The nickname. Maybe it has just slipped his mind to add niece at the end of it.

“I merely wanted to see you” You look to him and see the amused look on his face. You still cannot tell if he’s genuine or not, he keeps his emotions completely in check, only allowing you to see what he wishes you to.

You smile, putting on a sweet face as you bravely scoot towards him. “I an happy to hear that uncle.” He hums, continuing to watch you. You squirm under his gaze and cough into your hand due to nerves.

Why do you seem to be enjoying yourself? Why do you like his eyes on you? You hate him. He killed your brother for gods sake. He didn't in this timeline you suppose. No. Why are you trying to rationalize this with yourself? You had just sworn you would not be pulled in by him.

Yet when he leans forward and gazes into your eyes you find your mind turning into putty. “What have you been up to these past few years my sweet? i fear we did not get to talking much today during our time together due to,,,”

He trails off, looking away almost bashfully as if he is embarrassed about what had happened. You’re sure he probably is, you would be if you were him. Not that what he did was wrong, no it was wrong, very wrong of him to grab you like that and have you so close to him. To say such a romantic statement to you and you two are not even courting. Thought you two wouldn't be entering a courtship anyways, well would your engagement count as a courtship?

“I have not been up to much. I’ve been doing some studying, some reading, lady things.” He nods at your answer but he looks displeased like thats not what he wished to hear. “How have you been uncl-” “Are you betrothed?” You look at him alarmed and try to catch you breath as he leans in closer to you. “I will apologize for being forward later but i must know.”

“Why?” You breathe out with a hushed breath, as you notice his eye drifts to your lips. “You must know. You must know already why i wish to know, why i must know.” No. You don’t know. You certainly don’t wish to. You shake your head and let out a meek no while he nods and gets closer. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a chill runs down your spine as his lips brush against yours and you shiver.

“My prince.” He lets out sound close to animalistic as he whips his head to the left to glare at the squire while you pull all the way back and turn your head out of view, scooting farther away from him.

“Your mother is looking for you-” “Tell her i am busy.” He barks out. Thought you are not looking at him he can tell’s clenching his jaw and glaring. “She requests you now-” “You should go uncle-” “I am never allotted a moment of alone time and the one time i am she demands me? Tell her i am busy at once.”

The squire looks back and forth between you two and you say nothing, simply flushed with embarrassment. This was humiliating. Were you truly about to kiss him? and you were happy you were about to kiss him? You could not believe this. He nods simply, eyeing the two of you for a moment longer before nodding and rushing away.

You breathe heavily as you stare at your lap, your heart racing. What was happening to you? You begin to speak as you turn to look at him, “If your mother needs you maybe you should go- hmm!” he kisses you with a sense of fever you have never experienced. Sucking up every little sound and breath you take, one of his hands finds its place on your jaw.

When you open your mouth a little to gasp he eagerly shoves his tongue in your mouth, pocking and prodding, eagerly dominating you, leaning his body over you to where he is basically covering you completely, leaving you to lean back against the corner of the arm rail.

You grip onto his forearms, unsure of what you are doing. After what feels like an eternity he pulls away from you, eagerly rubbing his nose against your face affectionately, a small true smile falls on his face at your dazed look, his thumb affectionately rubbing the side of your cheek.

“Ao issi sīr gevie issa dōna.” (you are so beautiful my sweet) You flush. You hate him and the way he makes you feel. How dare he. You are supposed to despise him, make him pay for everything he’s done to you, to your family. But this Aemond hasn't done anything. This Aemond who’s gazing into your eyes like you are the stars in the sky, like you are the center of the universe. Maybe if this all works out and there can be no bloodshed there will be no reason to hate him truly.

Suddenly his hand lightly trails down your sides and to the sides of your thighs where he finds himself rubbing circles on your thighs. It is a silent exchange. The eye contact you share being more than enough. Your breath continuous to race as he keeps his eyes on you. one of his hands trailing down your legs and under your dress. Your breath speeds up and your heart quicken, is it even possible for a heart to be beating this fast? Would your heart burst from your chest?

He is a terrible man. An awful one. For being so unaffected while you are panting at a single touch. His hand lays on your thigh as he continues to gaze at you, he stops and you gulp, opening your mouth but unable to speak. He has stripped you of your ability to do anything. You look at him confused why he is not doing anything and then you realize something.

He is waiting for you.

For your queue. for your permission.

You have only heard and read about the affairs between men and women, you have never experienced something like this, he had even taken your first kiss. If you did this it would all be getting too real. Were you truly going to sully yourself like this? It would not technically be sullying yourself as he is to be your husband, no other man is meant to touch you anyway. No man is good to touch you other than him. You don’t want another man to touch you. Only him.

He is surprisingly patient. Not moving his hand an inch. continuing to gaze at you with that same dreamy look. You still cannot get a good read on him, is he truly trying to do this because he holds affection for you or is he merely attempting to manipulate you? had his mother told him to persuade you to get you to submit to him?

You nod to him.

It doesn't matter to you. You want him. Terribly to the point your heart begins to ache and your stomach twists and turns.

He finally begins to move his hand where you are soaked. He merely brushes his fingers against you and you move to grip his forearm tightly staring at him with wide eyes. He continues to simply gaze at you, unable to take your hands off you as he slips past your underwear and shoves a finger inside of you.

You gasp. One of your hands moving to grip his shoulder and pull him closer to you as he lightly begins to wriggle it around, feeling the inside of your walls. You are glad you are in a far away part of the garden for if anyone were to hear you, you would surely be ruined. Yet you couldn't find yourself to care as he pressed his lips against yours in a messy, open mouthed kiss as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. You are surely hurting him with how hard you are griping onto his shoulder, put his spare hand slides up your dress to begin squeezing your breasts as you gasp loudly against his lips. His lips leave yours occasionally, instead pressing against your cheeks and around your lips.

His finger quickens in pace where he slips in yet another finger giving you a delicious burn in your stomach. He stretches you out, his hands scissoring against you, his fingers pressing against your tightly walls which grip against his fingers harshly. He can move his fingers freely however, as you are completely drenched, allowing him to easily move within you.

You cannot tell how he is feeling, his eye simply closed as he presses kisses against your face but his face seems as stoic as ever. Though you cannot dwell on it again as he adds a third finger. You did not even know women could take more than one but three? This has your jaw clenching and your eyes shut tightly. He still says nothing and you in return. The only sounds coming are from your moans and gasps. You press your face against the side of his, putting your lips right up against your ear as he continues to pump in and out, you are now able to hear the squelching sound coming out of you leaving you to whine. You should be humiliated.

You continue to whine and moan and groan in his ear. Pressing yourself against him tightly, the burning of your stomach roaring louder and louder. You have no clue what is happening to you, not having heard about this unusual feeling before. You want to question him but you cannot find yourself to break this silence between you.

“Brother!” The two of you freeze. Your eyes shoot open and glance at him who looks at you with the same look, glancing over his shoulder at the direction of the voice. “Brother! Where are you? I know you're here!” He groans and mumbles to himself. His face annoyed as he continue to gaze at him. He slowly slides his fingers out of him and you whine at the now empty feeling, that burning in your stomach dying down.

You watch as he stands. You are unable to move only looking at him in confusion. What was happening? “I will make it up to you.”

He leaves. Turning his back to you and does not spare a single glance as he completely leaves your view. You are left clutching the bench and breathing heavily, the daze not having left you.

What the fuck.

[hyhkai]

∾ manwhore, mansplain, manipulate | sb

[ 🐬 ] — after having the displeasure of meeting the most annoying, son of a- nevermind, mansplaining cockalorum of your college, who you couldn't have figured to be the pervert type, and who you realize is also a dunce after he won't leave you alone though your annoyance was always written on your face, it's clear, it's obvious he'll only get shoo'ed away at one cost. or at least you think he will, since you've had enough of his bitchy attitude.

cw : PUBLIC, arguing, annoying clingy soobin, soobin's personality in this is quite the opposite from his real one, handjob, degrading crazy amounts.

a/n ; DO BLEACHERS EVEN HAVE SPACES BEHIND THEM, in this they do I couldn't care less, fuck, the title is the male version of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, and I totally made this plot on the spot while writing please.

you almost slammed the pen down onto the desk in a class so quiet that you could hear the clock ticking if paid attention to enough, looking behind after soobin poked at your back for the third time this class. "what. just what is it that you want from me?"

"nothing." he said, placing his head down on his own desk. those eyes may be doe, but they're like a siren to fucking run.

this is the kind of boy who makes you feel special, then ghosts you.

the cute kind of those, too.

"then don't poke me like that" you mumbled, turning your head ahead. you swear if it was possible for you to punch him if he even tried to talk to you during this class again, you would.

he's always been so... desperate, it's that he wants something from you but won't say it out loud, won't use his calculated words.

"y/n," to which he got no response, so he resorted to shaking your chair.

"what the f-" you looked back at him, a look of disappointment, anger and annoyance all over. "fuck off."

"I wish." he mumbled, looking into your eyes with no regret of what he just said.

"oh, wow." you said, and smiled without wanting to. "you're crazy."

"i know, right?" he shook his head in sarcastic thought. "I am kind of crazy."

"now please if you stay quiet, l could pay attention." and to your surprise, he stayed quiet throughout the entirety of what was left of the class. no poking, no chanting your name like a mantra. but it was not a reaction you'd usually get from soobin, he's always been the guy to fuck around with no remorse. and that is, very obvious, he is a dunce.

he's dunce enough to not even realize he is one.

class done, bag packed — you just wanted to get out and go back to your house, eat and sleep like you'd usually do, or like to do. but, alas, there was one thing hindering your peace and happiness — choi soobin. this one heck of a man who would fuck any object that is a good fleshlight alternative, a man who'd be happy from just fingering you.

and that, to you, is a problem.

how can a guy, with a face like that — a build like that, keep on poking and poking and poking at you until you've had enough and slap him across the face, just to get off on it? it's asinine.

so when you're walking out of the building, annoyed that your bag's strap keeps falling off your shoulder — and you spot him on the bleachers, there's one thing you make a mental note of.

change your route to the exit, please.

he almost jumped three stairs down when he saw you, lollipop clung onto his mouth's roof as he swirled it around.

"hey!" he lifted his hand in the air as a way of waving at you.

the loser's back at it again.

you didn't even look, didn't even glance at his figure that can only be described as perfect as he grabbed your bag. it got snatched right away because of just how loose you kept it on your shoulders.

"i said hey." he said again, looking at your exasperated, pretty face when you turned around.

"give that back, loser." you retorted, turning around, your head tilting forward with every word.

"sorry, what?" he said, putting a hand behind his ear to hear you better.

the fucker is now mocking your height? he is mocking your height? him?

"i said, give that back." you said, closing your eyes for a while so you can imagine smacking his face. "give me my bag back."

he laughed at your demands, looking in the direction of the building and right back at you.

"no"

you didn't realize before this that a single word can also hold so much meaning and depict just how much of an absolute motherfucker a man can be.

"no? no?! seriously?!" you looked up at his face that was only giving you realization after realization that he's a slutty bitch. "what do you want from me?"

he suckled on his candy for a while, looking as if in deep thought. but to no surprise with his next statement. "not much, really."

oh really now? not much? it's so obvious since the day he saw you, that in his mind he thought it won't be long until he's going to have you in his lap. is that not too much to ask for?

"just a bit of your time, is all." he continued, looking at the badges pinned on the front of your bag.

“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You're such a cunt!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating he's being. with the amount of cockiness he thinks he's so cool to be binding his personality with, you could beat him up with no regrets. "what do you want from me?! attention? tutoring? pussy?—"

"yeah."

"what?" your face contorted when he responded to the word that was merely a mockery of his wants and needs. "huh." you clicked your tongue. of course your assumptions about him only wanting to get his fill were true.

you grabbed his arm and pushed him further back, until the two of you were behind the bleachers. he didn't react to your very aggressive methods of traveling until you stopped.

"what the fuck are you doin—" he attempted at a protest as he dropped your bag to the ground, but was ultimately shut up with you pulling his head down vehemently and crashing your lips against his, and even though you're the one who initiated the kiss, his response is more enthusiastic than any guy you've ever gotten with — and it's so sloppy, it's unexpected from a boy with lips as plush as his.

maybe it's wrong to do this, maybe it's right, but it's the only way to stop this boy who's been wanting to fuck you for months now. "is this what you wanted? huh?" you asked, looking up at him, his locks of hair between your fingers as he looked at you with lips parted. you took advantage of his state, putting your thumb in his mouth, pressing against his tongue.

"hng—" his hand, as if by ultra instinct, crawled to your waist. maybe it's a form of affection, or maybe he's a desperate slut. "who told you you could touch me with your crusty hands?"

he sucks and licks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue swirl…fuck, how badly did you misread him? he's liking it?

he couldn't respond, this wasn't the way he'd expected to end up today at all — but hey, he isn't complaining. you rubbed your knee against his crotch, pinning him against the back of the bleachers.

please, someone don't be here.

"keep your mouth open." he was holding back his urge to bite down onto your thumb, as the stiffness of his body finally gave out and he stood straight up. you fed him your index finger, pressing your knee against his crotch again, rubbing as your brain went airplane mode. this isn't the best way to stop his bullshit, no, but you like it this way. him, on the other hand? he loves it this way, the slut is just too shy to admit it.

"awh, the manwhore is too shy to talk back now?" you pulled your fingers out, bubbles and strings of saliva on the pads of your fingers when your hands slipped into his pants after unzipping them, and you felt just how horny he can get in a span of a few minutes. he's enjoying this.

"um, so— holy shit— wh—” hes stumbling over his words. his hands are limp to protest against you, and his cock is too hard for him to protest against you.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you from above, with those god damn pretty eyes.

"shut up. just shut up. i bet you jerk off your stupid dick all night thinking about me, fucking whore."

his eye twitched at the statement, but he still does. "please fuck me." he requested while being muffled and jumbled.

"I am," you said as a matter of fact, tugging at his cock slowly. "I'm touching you, soobin."

"but, not completely." and this just showed how much of a demanding brat he is, not satisfied with the bare minimum friction he's getting.

"tch, tch, such a desperate man. aren't you happy a girl like me is touching your disgusting dick?" pressing your thumb on his tip to which his eye twitched, trying to grab your wrist to stop the pressure.

You could feel his breath on your neck—hot and heavy, which makes you feel things, to your demise — makes you wet, as you moved his hand out of the way for you, and after slight resistance, he pathetically lets you, followed by a whimper following shortly after when you start to slowly palm him. The moment you feel it twitched, you halt your movement, removing your hand from his crotch all together.

"h-hah.. h-huh? yeahh... yeah— fuck, please please, touch it properly, please—" he finally broke, letting out a whine he wishes you didn't hear, but judging by the smirk on your face, you definitely did. and it was hot— fuck, it was the sexiest thing he's ever done.

"ugh, I don't have all day for this." you shook your head, stretching the waistline of his bottoms forward and shoving you hands down again.

"holy fuuccck." he whispered, marvelling at the touch of your nails on the underside of his tip.

you twisted your hand as you jerked at his tip, causing his knees to bend an inch and his hips to buckle, closing his eyes shut. "shut the fuck up, soobin. don't need any student hearing you getting your cock jerked off, do we?" to which he mindlessly nodded, his head thrown back against the harsh metal that's probably heated up from the summer rays.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed under his breath, head tilting side to side every now that then, his chest heaving up and down. you squeezed his dick with your palm, causing his eyelids to squeeze. this sight has your panties in a bunch, but you can't show him that.

you press harder, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears turning red and heated. you looked down at the sight of your hands shoved down his denims. "hah, do you not know when to stop annoying a girl? when to quit with your antics, and be a good boy? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding his desire to be degraded that you're sure he has from the way he's reacting.

"is this— fuck, h-hah, is this the way you put all annoying guys in their place?" he questioned, managing to flutter his eyes open. he looked at you from the corner of his eye, trying to hide his face that was turning pink.

you laughed at the question, still looking down, index finger nudging his balls. "maybe it is. will that stop you from being an absolute annoying slut? will it?"

he couldn't respond, of course he couldn't — he's busy marvelling at the feeling of your warm, soft hands so all he could do was shake his head vehemently in a no.

what a slut!

"of course it wouldn't, pathetic whores like you only think from their dicks. you're a shameless bitch, soobin."

he couldn't protest, couldn't respond to the insults thrown at him — he's breathing is so messed up now his back is rubbing up and down the metal. "I'm gonna— I'm—" and he came in his pants, which will surely be a disaster for him to wash out afterwards.

you pulled your hand out, disguising your arousal with disgust at the sight of cum on your fingers, which you scrubbed off on the pockets of his pants, lifting your bag off the ground and throwing it on your shoulder. "keep being annoying."

i can write a whole fic explaining why I should give up on writing. okay goodbye. thank you for reading my garbage <3

[seeingivy]

obsessed

actor!sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

songs mentioned: bad blood by taylor swift and obsessed by olivia rodrigo (the performance mentioned in the chapter is based on the performance that olivia rodrigo does on the guts tour - linked here)

--

ryomen sukuna is a calculating man. 

cunning, conniving, contriving – they’re all words that sukuna’s had thrown in his face throughout the six years of his acting career, each and every time he steps forward and leaves people behind to rise to the top. 

and they’re not words that aren’t true. 

when sukuna was sixteen, he was playing hooky on the streets of los angeles instead of attending his statistics class. it was something he did often – bending rules, running around – when it felt like too many things were rattling in his head. 

sometimes it was the only thing that made his heart feel like it was still beating in his chest. and it didn’t really matter, because it wasn’t like anyone took him too seriously anyways. 

with an impending eviction notice, a sub-par report card, and teetering the edge of being fired from the coffee shop that he worked at, it was hard for anyone to do that anyways. sukuna wasn’t exactly as pure as his brothers. 

his eldest brother choso was the epitome of perfection. kind, intelligent, and brave – it was clear to sukuna that choso had a very strong bearing on what life was meant to be like, that he had a vision for himself that he was seeing through. though he supposed that spending five years in foster care before he joined his family would do that to someone. 

and his youngest brother yuuji was the embodiment of everything warm. funny, good looking, and compassionate – sometimes it made his stomach turn over how unbelievingly good he was. though sukuna figured that some people just had that in them – goodness that was innate. 

and it was glaringly obvious to him that sukuna was nothing like them. rough around the edges, harsh, and opinionated – it almost felt like he wasn’t even related to them. and the worst part? 

they’d spent their entire life trying to convince him otherwise. 

it was bright and loud, a sticky california day, that he found himself skating through the cracked pavement before he was stopped, by a twenty-five year old woman. 

there was nothing really special about her. a boring gray pencil skirt, an uptight hair do – but the flyer that she handed him was really quite the opposite. because it was a glimmering offer, to be scouted by an acting agency. 

the shiny numbers promised at the bottom – the three zeros that followed the one with the sign-on bonus had him running to the warehouse – because they were so promising. 

because sukuna couldn’t do many things right, but he could fix things by making himself useful. he couldn’t be soft, but he could be their salvation. bringing some money in so choso wouldn’t have to take out so many loans, so yuuji didn’t have to recycle his tux for his first homecoming. 

it was a done deal. 

and with one lick of how things worked, sukuna knew that he had found something that he would be great at. because while acting was an art, the industry that you had to survive in to do it was something entirely different. 

competition, rivalry, and struggle – it wasn’t anything he was a stranger to. in fact, he excelled at it. it was all too easy and before he knew it, he was quickly climbing ladders, picking who he knew and who he didn’t, and who he should have been associated with. 

and after two years, at eighteen, he was sniffing out the best of the best, batting eyelashes and flashing smiles to get what he wanted. 

and while he was calculated, it didn’t mean that he always counted right. a controversial relationship, a drug scandal, and as of late, what might have been the most vicious barking dog disguised as a barbie he’s ever seen. 

kim lynch is the icy kind of beautiful. the daughter of two high industry tycoons, a half-decent singer-songwriter, who had tons of connections. an almost synthetic smile, hollow laughs, and a wall so high sukuna figured he’d die if he ever tried to climb it. 

he figured it was a good idea. and for a few months, it was. because the after parties, the partnerships, and the people – it was a leg up that he couldn’t buy or charm his way into. but like most things were with him, all good things came to an end. 

because while sukuna was great, his overarching hunch that girls like kim ran for the shiniest thing in close proximity was all but confirmed when she seemingly ended things on a sour note – claiming that there was something too…unfixable about him that she just couldn’t get past. 

and knowing her, she was about to start the biggest slander campaign known to man. 

“this isn’t good, sukuna.” marjorie states. 

“i’m well aware, marj.” sukuna responds. 

“then why did you do it? because i specifically asked you not to. you had to get your dick wet that bad?” 

sukuna scoffs. 

marjorie simmons was sukuna’s manager, having taken her rightful spot after he broke up with his previous manager, the original woman who scouted him when he was sixteen. 

and at odd times, marj reminded him an awful lot of his sister-in-law, yuki, only because she always seemed to have some string of choice words for him every time he acted like an idiot. 

it was one of the only reasons that he kept her around. the familiarity, that was almost nowhere to be found in the overwhelming plasticity of the industry, was comforting. 

“i thought it would be a good idea.” sukuna states. 

“you should leave the thinking to me, idiot.” marjorie states, using her fingertips to massage at her temples. 

sukuna crackles his knuckles, leaning forward to pinch the bridge of his nose, before reaching for marj’s hands, and pulling her down onto the couch next to him. 

“marj, you know what this means to me.” sukuna murmurs. 

“sukuna, i literally warned you.” she whines. 

“i know, marj. but there’s so much riding on this. i’ll literally do anything you tell me to. i promise.” sukuna begs. 

in a very challenging game of moves and countermoves, sukuna found himself – by some turn of luck – and his little brother yuuji as the leads in a new show, being spearheaded by an a-list producing company. and if he tried his very best, it would solidify him as an a-lister himself, and set his parents and choso up for life. 

the only problem? the bad pr could tank the numbers for the show. he knew well enough that that lynch’s had generational pull – fans that would blindly follow anything and everything they did. 

and he watches as marj sighs, flipping through her papers, before slamming her fists on the table. 

“you desperately need good pr, sukuna. that’s the only type of thing that could combat something like this.” 

sukuna sighs. 

“the press for jujustu kaisen is just about to start rolling out.” sukuna offers. 

marj shakes her head. 

“that’s not enough. you need a way to bite back, but not directly. because anything you say or do can easily be perceived negatively. you…need a way to have someone else do it on your behalf.” 

sukuna looks at her eyes, steel gray and a deep inclination that the gears are turning in her head, as he waits for her response. 

“the worst case scenario is that kim writes a bunch of shitty songs about you that ruin your reputation. if it’s bad enough, it’ll tank the ratings of the show, at least by a sizeable dent, due to how big her following is.” she states. 

“we can’t have that happening.” 

marj sighs. 

“you need to bite back with equally loyal support.” 

sukuna pinches his lips into a line. 

“my fans don’t exactly do that. they just…call me hot and call it a day.” 

“i’m well aware.” 

he watches as she taps her manicured fingers on the top of the glass table, the sound pricking at his ears before she stops and looks up at him, the slightest smudges of her mascara accumulating underneath her eyes. 

“you’ll do anything?” she asks. 

“anything, marj. this has to work.” 

marj swallows hard, before crossing her arms over her chest. 

“you need to find another girlfriend.” marj states, 

“what?” 

“ideally, a pr girlfriend. someone who has the same motives as you, that has something in it for her the same way you do.” 

sukuna sighs. 

“and that helps me how?” 

“if you’re able to get one of these…pop princesses to help you, their fanbase will bite back for you. and a few lovey dovey songs here and there will definitely help.” 

sukuna groans. 

“that sounds –” 

“you said you’d do anything, sukuna. and i know you’re smart enough to know this – this is all about moves and countermoves. you’re only going to be able to drown out the bad, if you have good on the other side too.” 

sukuna sighs. only because he knows that marj is right. 

“okay, i’ll try.” 

“i’ll see what i can do to help, ‘kuna. see you on friday, alright?” 

he gives her a nod, sinking down into the soft plush pillows of her office, as the clicking sound of her heels fade into the distance. 

--

on thursday night, marj secures him two tickets to studio eleven’s start of the season charity event. 

at the end of each awards cycle, in partnership with the other recording studios in los angeles, studio eleven hosts a charity event for the local los angeles community. a night of fundraising, networking, and music – with every relevant singer-songwriter in attendance. 

sukuna had attended last year with kim. he found it awfully stiff, only because she was so drunk by the end of her set that her filter was gone – and he heard what were probably the most god awful and tone deaf things he couldn’t even imagine a real person would actually say. 

but this year, it was the one place he wanted to be. because it was the perfect place for him to pick his poison. 

“sukuna.” yuuji whispers. 

“what?” 

“fushiguro is here.” yuuji whispers back, the excitement entirely giving his way. 

although yuuji refuses to admit it, he has the most god awful crush on his new co-star, fushiguro megumi. one that sukuna had been speculating was returned by the stoically quiet grump. 

sukuna wouldn’t admit it, but the irritated guise he put up was just that – a guise. he deeply appreciated getting to see his brother be so giddy, even if it was about that weirdo.  

“you should go talk to him. and stop irritating me.” sukuna states. 

“do i look fine?” yuuji asks, gesturing to his air and readjusting the collar of his shirt, his eyes expectant as he waits for an answer. 

“you look fine, miss universe. just go over there.” sukuna grumbles. 

two hours later, he almost wished that he had begged yuuji to say. only because the prospects that he was considering were dwindling down to nothing after each consecutive set. because each girl either didn’t have a big enough following, already had a guard dog of a girlfriend like historia reiss, or were way too buddy-buddy with kim to even consider his proposition. 

“our next set is featuring kim lynch, with musical guest jake nicholson on guitar, from real sun studios!” 

sukuna can feel the irritation flare up in him as he watches kim walk across the stage – the synthetic smile on her lips as the lights flash in an almost blinding manner – and her irritatingly piercing voice fills the little club. 

'Cause baby, now we got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look what you've done 'Cause baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)

Now we got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em You made a really deep cut And baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)

“i’d be shitting my pants if i were y/n right now.” 

sukuna tunes into the conversation on his left, two girls in billowing silver and gold dresses, in an attempt to tune out the damage that kim was currently doing to his ear drums...and his brain cells. 

“that’s not about y/n.” 

“that’s jake, sarah. y/n’s ex-boyfriend. apparently they just broke up because y/n was horribly jealous of aimee since jake used to have a crush on her back in the day.” 

“really?” 

“yeah. I saw it on twitter. she was like obsessed with her, she wouldn’t stop bringing aimee up until he eventually got annoyed by how insecure she was and broke up with her.” 

“oh god. well, this doesn’t exactly help matters. and she’s going on next too.” 

“look, she’s over there! she doesn’t look bothered at all!” 

and he follows their line of vision to the right, only to see what must be you standing in the tent in between megumi and yuuji, downing an entire glass of pink wine before shoving it in megumi’s free hand and walking off. 

Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times You and I

'Cause baby, now we got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look what you've done 'Cause baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)

sukuna’s curiosity is piqued as he watches the tool on the left, jake, and kim hug it out, before they strut off the stage. and really – is more interested to see whatever it was that you were going to do – now that you had to be some type of buzzed. 

marj told him to find someone that would have their interests aligned with his. and if the blood was as bad as kim was letting on, he might have just found his perfect match. 

“ryomen sukuna.” 

sukuna turns to his left to find the devil of the hour, kim, standing at his side and fights the urge to gag. because while she was one of his better girlfriends, he supposes, the current issues that she was creating – with everything that was at stake – was filling him with the rage of the burning sun. 

“hi kim.” 

“i’d watch your back if i were you.” 

there was always something slimy about the way that she talked. the way the words seemed to whistle out of her perfectly white teeth – he had always found it unsettling. even more so, when she had a penchant to be as intimidating as she was trying to be right now. 

the booming speakers cut him off before he could bite back. 

“our next set is featuring our resident new york native, y/n l/n from dancing lady studios, with her new song obsessed!” 

the back screen flashes red lights, as he watches you walk onto the stage in a bright red bodysuit and shiny star tights, giving a bright and full smile to the cheers that seem to erupt from everyone in the audience. 

sukuna’s able to ogle in the full light this time. at the tiny needled tattoos on your arms, the shimmering glitter spread over your collarbone, and your glimmering eyes. 

and immediately feels his heart race as your sweet smile turns into an almost sneaky grin, as the backtrack starts playing. 

La-da-da-da, da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da La-da-da-da, da-da-da

If I told you how much I think about her You'd think I was in love And if you knew how much I looked at her pictures You would think we're best friends

'Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type I've seen every movie she's been in and, oh god, she's beautiful And I know you loved her, and I know I'm butthurt But I can't help it, no, I can't help it

I'm so obsessed with your ex (uh-huh) I know she's been asleep on my side of your bed And I can feel it I'm starin' at her like I wanna get hurt And I remember every detail you have ever told me So be careful, baby

it’s an embarrassingly hot feeling that he gets, that pools in his stomach. and really, the hot feeling only gets worse as he watches you crawl onto the stage, now singing into a camera that seems to be embedded in the stage, as he can only watch – wholly mesmerized. 

he’s no stranger to pretty girls, but he’s never seen someone so eye-catching like you. only – that and the fact that you seem to have some deep guts, to bite back at aimee and kim with no fear. 

it fills sukuna with the worst kind of excitement. 

She's got those lips, she's got those hips The life of every fuckin' party She's talented, she's good with kids She even speaks kindly about me, ha-huh

And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her You both have moved on, you don't even talk But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby

“fucking bitch.” 

sukuna’s broken out of his intense entrance, only to find kim and now her sister aimee at his side fuming. and the two of them are so quick with it – typing away on their phones, as he slowly connects the dots about what’s happening. 

Is she friends with your friends? Does she give great head?  Do you think about her? No, I'm fine, it doesn't matter, tell me Is she easy-going? Never controlling? Well-traveled? Well-read? Oh god, she makes me so upset

I'm so obsessed with your ex (ah) She's been asleep on my side in your bed (ah, whoa) I'm so obsessed with your ex (god, she makes me so upset, ah) I'm so obsessed with your, with your ex

and he watches as you blow one last kiss to the audience, to what. might be the most deafening aplause he's ever heard, before skipping back off from where you came from. 

and sukuna knows deep down that he’s found his dream girl - and now he just has to get her.

--

“y/n?” 

you look to your right to find someone towering over you – soft cotton candy pink hair and hazel brown eyes. 

“that would be me.” you respond. 

he extends his hand out, as you note the doll silver rings across his knuckles and shakes. the grasp is firm, but his hands are cold as he gives you a smile. 

“i’m ryomen sukuna.” 

megumi’s co-star. 

“right. it’s nice to meet you.” you respond, dropping your hand and lifting the glass of pink wine to your lips. 

“i saw you talking to megumi earlier. are you friends?” 

you pause. 

“you could say that.” you respond. 

sukuna grins. he’s found his in. 

“we go way back.” sukuna states. 

you swallow down the warmth of the wine, before turning looking up properly this time, to inspect him in full. 

the first thing that you notice is how tall he is – only because he seems to be towering over you, so much so that he has to arch his entire neck down to look at you. he has tattoos – black ink that you can’t entirely make out creeping across his arms and his neck – his entire look almost perfectly edgy with the three earrings that dangle from his earlobe. 

he smells like mint, which is shocking given how the smell of sweat seems to be hanging and lingering in the air here, and you can’t really pinpoint what it is that’s brewing in his eyes, but there’s one thing that you know for sure. 

that he’s a liar. 

“that’s sweet. when did you meet him?” you ask. 

“in elementary school. he’s always been the quiet type.” 

you smile. he took the bait.  

“he seems like the type.” you respond. 

“speaking of types, what’s yours?” 

he’s awfully forward. though you suppose for someone as attractive as him, this type of thing must work all the time. 

“why do you ask?” 

sukuna leans forward, his hands making your skin prickle as he rests them against your bicep, only to lean forward and whisper in your ear. 

“you’re a smart girl. i know you can figure it out, sweetheart.” 

you lean back, crossing your arms over your chest as you swirl the pink wine in your glass. and figure that if he was going to try this blatantly to lie to you – you might as well milk an idiot like this for all that it’s worth. 

“i’ll give it a shot.” you respond, giving him a wink that seems to excite him way too much.. 

sukuna grins and you note that he has dimples – on both sides. 

“atta girl.” he responds. 

“your name is ryomen sukuna. you’re an up and coming actor, with a decent amount of credits, who just got signed onto mappa’s new show, as the lead with your brother, itadori yuuji. you’ve gotten far in the industry – all on your own merit, of course – by using charm and wit to make connections, along with what i hear is some pretty decent acting.. and while you’ve done mostly well, you’ve made some questionable company as of late, with two vixens who i can’t seem to get away from. and now that you’ve ended up on their bad side, like everyone inevitably does, you’re trying to see if i’ll help you bring them down, by trying to charm me by lying.” you state. 

you watch as his eyes widen, before he leans back, his cheeks the slightest shade of pink as he swallows hard. and you give him your sincerest smile before pulling out your phone and digging for the photo in your favorites. 

of you and megumi in grade school, standing hand in hand. 

“i think i’d remember if the human version of pinkie pie from my little pony was running around my middle school.” you state. 

and shockingly enough, he only gives you a smile in response – like he’s almost delighted by the fact that you’ve just read him to filth – as he sticks his tongue in the side of his cheek and makes a clicking sound. 

“got me all figured out, don’t you dollface?” 

“you’re painfully obvious, like most men. i’ll see you around, sukuna.” you respond, as you turn on your heel to walk away. 

but he’s almost too fast with it, slithering his hand down from your elbow to your wrist, pulling slightly to beckon you to turn back. and he gives you an…a more earnest smile this time as he raises your knuckles to his lips, and leaves a kiss in between the pointer in the middle. 

“that’s a promise, sweetheart.” 

--

after seven phone calls, filled with his most incessant begging, sukuna’s plan is set in motion. 

as he now has exclusive passes to attending your npr tiny desk performance in two days. 

“you know, this wasn’t exactly the vibe i had in mind. she’s kind of a wildcard.” marj mumbles. 

sukuna turns on his heel, before giving marj a smile, one that he can tell that she doesn’t like in the slightest. 

“and that’s why she’s perfect.”

--

an: actor sukuna welcome to the ronnie verse....

(i'm opening a taglist specific for this fic lmk if you would like to be added <3)

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytuckyy @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga @skunabby @meisque @hoseokslefteyebrow

[zegrasdrysdale]

Thinking of: reader going to one of Ethan’s games with their son/daughter and once the kid sees his dad he’s so excited! Jumping up and down and screaming “daddy!! daddy!!”

AHHH IM HAVING BAD BABY FEVER!!!!!

[ memorable ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : Ethan plays first game as a Devil in October 2025 after signing his entry level contract over the summer so his fiancée brings their three year old son to the game to surprise him

warning(s) : none really (a suggestive comment it were getting picky)

author’s note : i also had baby fever so here we are lol

༺═──────────────═༻

The day Ethan came home one afternoon and told her that he made the Opening Day roster for the Devils, there was excitement in the air. She couldn’t be any prouder of her fiancé than she was at that moment, except for maybe when he was drafted by the Devils in 2020. There were a handful of days between the end of the preseason and the start of the regular season so that excitement only grew as Opening Day got closer.

Ethan can’t wait to get on NHL ice with the Devils for the first time. He’s looking forward to sharing the ice with Luke and Seamus again for the first time since the three of them played at Michigan.

No one is more excited than their three-year-old son Chase though. He has told everyone at his preschool over the last few days that his “daddy is gonna be on TV”. He can’t wait to watch Ethan play hockey on TV.

Or so he thinks.

She hasn’t told Chase yet because she knows he’ll tell Ethan but she isn't taking him to preschool because they're going to spend the day getting ready for the game. She's taking Chase to the Prudential Center tonight so he can watch Ethan play in person. Both of them have no idea of her plans.

Yes, Chase has seen Ethan play in college, but playing in the NHL is so much bigger than playing in college. Plus, she's not sure if he even remembers watching Ethan play in college. He was barely a year old when she took him to Tampa in the spring of 2023 for the Frozen Four.

Now he's three and all he can talk about is how excited he is that his dad is playing in the NHL. It makes her heart so warm and she can't wait to bring Chase to the arena for the game. Ethan's parents came in too as part of her surprise. All four of them will be at the glass for warmups to celebrate his first NHL game.

Her alarm goes off on game day at the usual time so nothing seems off to Ethan, though he's already up and in the mini gym doing his pre-practice workout by the time her alarm goes off.

At seven, she leaves her shared bedroom to go wake Chase up like it's a normal day. She throws on a hoodie on top of her tank top and boxer shorts she usually sleeps in before she goes to get Chase up.

She walks into his bedroom and he's already sitting up in bed like he's been up for a few minutes already. She turns the lights on and smiles. "Good morning, Chasey," she says.

"Hi, mommy," Chase giggles. "Daddy's music woke me up."

She leans down and presses a kiss to her son's head. "I'll let daddy know that he needs to turn down the music in the morning so he doesn't wake you up," she promises. "Should we go tell him to turn it down?"

Chase nods and sprints out the door at the suggestion. She lays out his outfit for the day and quickly walks out after him. When she gets down the hallway to the gym, Ethan has Chase in his arms and Chase is hugging his dad.

"Good morning, buddy," Ethan greets Chase. "Sleep well?"

"As well as I could with your music too loud," Chase comments. She covers her mouth with a smile as she watches her fiancé and son. "Mommy said she'll tell you to turn it down."

Ethan smiles and turns his attention to her. "Did she?" he asks. "I'll make sure keep it down in the mornings when you're sleeping, okay?"

Chase smiles and hugs his dad. She bites her lip and looks at her boys. It's the little things that make her happy, and watching her son and her fiancé together makes her incredibly happy.

"Chasey, why don't you go get ready?" she suggests. "I'll make sure you get to say goodbye to daddy before he leaves for practice. I laid out your jersey so you can wear it to school today."

Their son nods and Ethan puts him down. Chase giggles and runs back to his room, leaving her alone with Ethan for the first time that morning. She kicks the door closed, but not all the way so she can hear Chase run back down the hallway.

She takes a few steps toward Ethan as he turns down the music. She wraps her arms around her sweaty fiancé's neck. "Good morning to my favorite NHL player," she comments. Ethan's hands rest on her waist. "Excited for tonight?"

"I feel a lot of things about tonight," Ethan admits. "Excited, nervous. I have been looking forward to my first NHL game and I wish you could be there so it's going to be a bittersweet moment."

"You know I'll be cheering you on from wherever I am, even when I'm home," she tells him with a frown to sell her lie. "Both Chase and I will be rooting for you tonight, and every game after."

Ethan shoots her a sad smile. She surges up to her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips because she hates seeing him so sad.

When she lowers herself, Ethan cups her jaw and pulls her back into the kiss. It's a deeper kiss than the last one they shared and neither of them pulls away this time. Her arms slide from around his neck to around his bare torso so he can't go very far.

"I'm so proud of you," she mumbles against his lips.

He hums and deepens the kiss even more. She laughs as Ethan's fingers curl in her messy locks. "Love you," Ethan tells her between kisses. "Both of you."

There are quick footsteps in the hallway so she pulls away quickly. Ethan runs his fingers through his hair as they step away from each other so they don't traumatize their three-year-old. "Mommy, can we have chocolate pancakes for breakfast before school?" Chase asks as he pushes open the door. "Pretty please?"

"I think it's a special day so I think we can have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast," she replies. "You look handsome in your little Devils jersey. Do you think your friends will like it?"

Chase nods and does a little spin. A little "Edwards 73" being on his back could make her cry. This is truly Ethan's moment, and she can't wait to celebrate at the arena with their son and Ethan's parents.

"I'm going to go shower really quick but we can eat some breakfast together before I leave for practice and you leave for school, okay?" Ethan says to Chase. Chase nods and grabs her hand. "I'll be out in a few minutes. Maybe mommy will let you help her with breakfast if you listen to her."

She shoots Ethan a look as Chase drags her out of the room. Her three-year-old pulls her down the hallway to the kitchen. She grabs ingredients for pancakes and the chocolate chips. As much as she would love to have Chase help with breakfast, she doesn't want his jersey to get dirty so she puts him at the table with some coloring books so she can cook breakfast in peace.

Down the hallway, she can hear Ethan in the shower as she mixes the ingredients together. Chase gets her attention to show her one of the pages that he colored. She tells him it looks good as she begins to pour the batter into a pan to cook some pancakes. She makes some smaller pancakes for Chase and full size pancakes for her and Ethan.

He emerges from the hallway in a Devils hoodie with his number on his chest and compression shorts that don't hide much. She's piling the already made pancakes on a plate for the three of them. She grabs plates out of the cabinet and puts them on the table for them.

"They look amazing, baby," Ethan tells her. He presses a kiss to her cheek before he sits down at the able.

"If I didn't have to bring Chase to school in a little bit then I would have cooked something healthier for you since it's game day," she replies.

Ethan grabs two pancakes and starts to cut them up. "It's okay," he says. "I'll make it up with a healthy lunch. I'm pretty sure that Luke, Jack, Shea, and I are going to lunch so I'll suggest something on the healthier side. Maybe Chipotle since I know Luke and Jack love it. I'll probably head to Shea's to hangout before the game, maybe nap. I don't know yet."

She cuts some pancakes up for Chase. "Sounds good to me," she tells him. "I think I'm going to do some shopping today. Grab some groceries, maybe some new outfits for when I do attend games this season." Ethan smiles at the last comment. "Then I'll pick Chase up from school at the normal time and we'll both be here for the game."

She hands Chase's plate to him and takes away his coloring book and crayons so he can eat. He shoves some of the pieces into his mouth.

Her phone dings with a text. She pulls it out of her hoodie pocket and glances at the nofication.

from: tara edwards - 7:38 am lee and i are landing in about 30 mins. has e left? does chase know about the surprise?

to: tara edwards - 7:40 am eating breakfast w the boys rn. eth is leaving when i "leave" with chase at 8. i'll tell him in the car about the surprise

"Who's texting you so early this morning?" Ethan questions.

"The groupchat I'm in with the other wives and girlfriends," she lies. "They're all excited for you to play in the game tonight and they wish that Chase and I could be there."

Ethan smiles and swallows a bite of pancake. "I'm happy you're getting along with them," he tells her. "Especially since I have no idea what's going to happen this season. I'm on the roster today but I could be sent to Utica any day. I think you could use some extra support just in case."

She matches his smile and nods. "It's nice to have a group that was so welcoming too," she replies. "The girls really welcomed us with open arms, and they adore Chase."

His phone starts buzzing and he realizes what time it is. "Oh, I gotta get going," he tells them. "It's almost eight and Keefe wants to hold a meeting before practice. I don't want to be late today."

Chase finishes eating as Ethan talks. "Time to go to school?" he asks. He looks at his mother.

"Time to go to school," she confirms. "All done?" Chase nods and she takes his plate. She grabs Ethan's plate as well as her own and puts them all in the sink. Ethan goes to grab his things and she pulls Chase out of his seat.

She holds Chase on her hip as she grabs his backpack sans lunchbox since he's not actually going to school. She slides on her slippers by the door as Ethan emerges with his new equipment bag with the Devils logo on the side. She smiles as he puts on his slides with his socks that go halfway up his shins. "Wow, you look like a hockey player on his way to practice, E," she teases him.

He rolls his eyes and opens the door for the two of them. Chase has been put down but holds his mother's hand so he doesn't go running down the hallway. Ethan follows close behind them.

Their apartment is on the third floor so they just take the stairs down to the first floor. Ethan struggles a little bit with his large equipment bag. He's good once he's on solid ground on the first floor.

Ethan throws his equipment in the trunk of his car. She stands next to him with Chase as the trunk is shut. He picks up Chase and holds him on his hip. "Good luck tonight, daddy!" Chase says. "Score a goal for me and mommy!"

"I always do, Chasey," Ethan tells him as he presses kisses to his son's cheek. "You look good in your jersey. Have a good day at school and I'll see you in the morning." Chase wraps his little arms around Ethan's neck. She smiles at the two of them.

He holds his extra arm out for her and she steps into a hug with her son and fiancé. Ethan presses a soft kiss to her forehead as she wraps an arm around his waist. "I can't wait to see you in Devils red, E," she tells him when she looks up at him. "We'll be looking for a 73 on the ice."

Her fiancé presses a quick kiss to her lips before he hands Chase over to her. "I love both of you," he says as he walks around to the driver's side of the car. "I'll be thinking of both of you while I play tonight."

She blows a kiss in Ethan’s direction, and Chase mimics her. She laughs as Ethan catches both kisses then gets in his car. She and Chase wave goodbye to him since it will be the last time either of them see him before they see him on the ice tonight.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Needless to say, Chase was estatic when she told him the plan for the night. In the car on the way to pick up Ethan’s parents, she told him that they were going to go to the arena to watch him play. She has never seen him so excited for anything in his very young life. He was even more excited when grandmom and grandpa got in the car. He wouldn’t stop talking about seeing Ethan on ice.

She leaves Chase with his grandparents to actually go shopping for groceries and an outfit for that night. She wasn’t lying when she said she needed to go pick up a couple of groceries and outfits.

Plus, she needed some time alone since the day is already super chaotic.

Ethan does text her after lunch to tell her while she’s out that he is going over to Seamus’ apartment before the game to hangout and maybe nap so she doesn’t have to tell his parents to take Chase out since he’s supposed to be at school. She tells him to let her know when he’s up from his nap, if he naps.

When she gets home, Tara and Lee are playing with toys in the living room with Chase. Her son greets her at the door despite her hands being full with bags. “Hi, my handsome boy,” she says when she drops her bags and embraces Chase. “What are you playing with?”

“Animals,” he replies. “All my favorite animals. Lions and wolves too.”

She smiles when she sees the setup on the coffee table. “I’ll join in the game in a little bit, okay?” she tells him. “I have to put away the food.”

Chase nods and runs back to his toys. She hauls the bags onto the kitchen island and begins to unpack them.

It’s not until she’s nearly done when Tara walks up to her. “He’s so excited to watch Ethan play hockey at the arena tonight,” she tells her. “It’s all he’s been able to talk about since you left. I’ve never seen him so excited.”

She smiles. “You should’ve seen him in the car,” she tells Tara. “I mean, he went from looking miserable because he thought he was going to school to being the happiest kid in the world when I told him. He was so excited and asked so many questions. I think this is going to be a core memory for him.”

“It’s going to be memorable for all of us,” Tara replies. “I mean, it’s Ethan’s first NHL game after four years of college. I didn’t think he was going to sign his contract for the longest time, especially after Chase was born. It makes me so happy that he has the life he wants. A beautiful baby boy, a beautiful wife-to-be, and an NHL career.”

The women both laugh and she wipes away tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t wait to see Ethan’s reaction when he sees all of us there tonight,” she says. “He has no idea that we’re coming.”

“Thank you for flying us in for this,” Tara says. “It means so much to me and Lee that we’re here.”

“It was no problem,” she replies as she pulls Ethan’s mom into a hug. “I’m going to start getting ready. I have one of Ethan’s Michigan jerseys if you want to wear it?”

Tara pulls back from the hug. “I think his wife and son should wear his name and number,” she tells her. “Lee and I will be just fine in our Devils gear.”

She smiles and nods. Tara goes back to playing with her grandson and she takes her outfit into her bedroom to get ready for the game since it’s about three. She was out a lot longer than she thought she was going to be so she has less time to get ready since she wants to be ready and have Chase fed by five.

Knowing that Chase is occupied by his grandparents and Ethan isn’t coming home before the game, she takes an everything shower and takes her time. She shampoos and conditions her hair, washes and exfoliates her face and body, and then shaves all necessary parts of her body.

She has some soft music playing as she showers to calm her nerves about tonight. All she wants is for Ethan to have the best game and all she wants is for her son to have fun at the game. She hopes for the best tonight.

A Devils win with an Ethan goal is the ideal outcome for the night, but as long as Ethan has the best time on NHL ice then she’ll be happy. If Chase has the best time at the game watching his dad then that’s a win in her book, no matter what the score of the game is.

Once she’s out of the shower, she wraps a towel around her body and secures it under her arms. She blow dries her hair before she leaves the bathroom.

She throws on a robe to check in on Chase and Ethan’s parents. Tara is in the kitchen while Lee and Chase are at the table. “Hi,” she says, confused. “What’s going on in here?”

“I thought I would make some dinner,” Tara replies. “Just some chicken nuggets before we leave. Chase requested chicken nuggets.”

She kisses the top of Chase’s head. “Ah, okay,” she says. “Thank you. I was going to make something before we left.”

“I got it,” Tara says with a smile. “Go finish getting ready. I’ll have some chicken nuggets for you when you’re done.”

She looks at Chase. “Are you being good for grandmom and grandpa?” she asks. Chase nods and looks up at her. “We’ll leave when I’m done getting ready. Make sure you eat whatever grandmom makes for you, okay?”

He nods again and goes back to playing with his animals with Lee. She runs her fingers through his dark locks and decides in that moment to take him to get a haircut over the weekend. She goes to do her hair, put on her makeup then get dressed.

She straightens her hair and does some neutral makeup when she gets ready. She puts on a pair of loose ripped jeans that she bought today and black ankle boots with a two inch heel to give her some height. She puts on the red Devils jersey that Ethan got her and tucks in the front of the jersey into the waist of her jeans.

“Mommy!” Chase calls. “I’m done my nuggets! Can we go see daddy?”

“Yes, Chasey,” she calls back. “We can go see daddy!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The ride to the Prudential Center is the most exciting and nerve wracking experience of her life. Ethan has no idea that the four most important people in his life life are on their way to watch his first NHL game.

Chase basically vibrates in the backseat as she drives to the arena. He is very awake and didn’t take his nap after lunch because of how excited he is.

They pull into the player parking lot and sees Ethan’s car parked next to Seamus’. Chase is on her hip and Ethan’s parents walk behind her when they walk into a back door to get into the arena. She plays with her engagement ring as they get their credentials so they’re free to watch warmups with the other wives, girlfriends, and families.

“Have a good time,” the security guard says as soon as the three adults in the group get badges that hang on their neck. She puts her on and checks the time.

Warmups start in ten minutes. She quickly walks through the hallways with Chase still on her hip. The four of them come out at the glass in the opposite corner of where the players will come out.

She looks around at the stands that are filling up and puts Chase down for a few minutes since she’ll have to hold him once warmups start.

Fans are gathered at the glass to watch warmups. A sea of red, white, and black jerseys are lined up with signs. A handful of families, wives, and girlfriends are standing in the corner, and she sees Seamus’ parents at some point.

Then warmups start. Per NHL tradition, the rookies get a lap when warmups start. Seamus and Ethan take their lap before the the lights come up. As soon as they do, the other Devils players come out onto the ice, as well as the other team. Ethan takes a shot and skates right by the four of them without a second glance.

Chase notices though. He bangs on the glass in front of him and yells, “Daddy! Daddy!”

She pulls out her phone to get a picture of this moment. Chase has the biggest smile on his face as he tries to get his father’s attention. She even manages to grab a video of Chase banging on the glass.

Once the boys start stretching and taking line rushes instead of shooting pucks at the net, she notices Ethan standing with Seamus and Luke at the blue line. The trio talks about something but she has no idea what.

It just ends with Ethan looking directly at them. His jaw drops and he glances at his friends before he skates over to them.

Curtis Lazar stands at the glass talking to his wife and kids when Ethan skates up to them. Chase is moving so much in her arms that she stands him up on the boards. Lazar says something to Ethan that she can’t hear but it makes Ethan smile.

“Daddy!” Chase yells. Ethan waves at his son and Chase happily waves back at his dad. She has one arm around Chase so he doesn’t fall. She presses her lips in a line and holds back tears as she watches the interaction they’re having.

Ethan waves at his parents then makes a hand heart at her and Chase. She blows him another kiss and he smiles at her before he skates away to warm up. She smiles and watches her fiancé as he does his warmup routine.

The moment when Chase saw Ethan was everything she wanted. Her boys interacting at a game was a beautiful experience.

Tears roll down her cheeks and Chase asks, “Mommy, why are you crying?”

“I’m okay, Chasey,” she tells him as she wipes them away. “They’re happy tears, I promise. I’m very proud of your daddy. That’s all.”

Chase smiles and hugs his mom. She wraps her arms tightly around her son. Her eyes fall on Ethan as he takes a line rush. He is already proud to wear the Devils logo and she knows he’s about to put his all into this game.

Her son turns her attention back to his dad on the ice. He is so fixated on watching Ethan. It’s like he’s mesmerized by Ethan skating around on the ice. He passes the puck back and forth with Seamus for a second before he leans down to grab it.

Ethan skates back over to them and holds the puck up for Chase to see. He smiles and giggles as Ethan gets the puck between the net and glass. She catches the puck for Chase and hands it to their son.

While Chase is preoccupied with the puck, Ethan puts his hand up to the glass. She rests hers on his and smiles at him. “Love you,” Ethan mouths.

“Love you too,” she replies before he skates off.

One by one, players begin to leave the ice. Ethan is one of the last players to leave the ice and he makes sure to stop by one more time before he does.

She puts Chase down so she can get herself together. It was a very emotional moment for her, and it was everything she expected and more. She’s incredibly proud of Ethan and can’t wait to see what he does during the game.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Because it’s so late when the game ends, she takes her son home to try and put him to bed. Chase isn’t going to sleep anytime soon because of how exciting the game was. He watched his dad score his first NHL goal from the blue line and a Devils win. It was a 2-1 win over the Wild.

There’s no way he’s sleeping any time soon. She’s almost a hundred percent sure that he’ll still be awake when Ethan gets home. It was truly an exciting and memorable game for her, her son, and Ethan.

Tara and Lee stayed behind at the arena to come back to the apartment with Ethan while she went home with her son.

She looks back in the rearview mirror at Chase and he’s holding his puck. He’s turning it over and over again as he looks at it. “Did you have fun at the game?” she asks.

“Yeah!” Chase giggles. “Daddy scored a goal for us.”

With a smile, she nods. “Daddy did score a goal for us,” she replies. “His first NHL goal. Are you proud of him?”

Chase nods. “Yeah,” he replies. Then he yawns. “Will I see daddy before I go to sleep?”

“I don’t know, Chasey,” she tells him. “You look a little sleepy.”

He smiles as she pulls into the parking lot of their apartment building. She parks the car and gets out before she gets Chase out. The spot next to her is still empty so Ethan isn't back. She assumes he's doing media since he had an incredible NHL debut. He'll probably be back late, but Chase will probably force himself to stay awake anyway.

She pulls Chase out of his carseat and takes the elevator up to their apartment with Chase on her hip. His head rests on her shoulder. He really is tired.

Once inside their apartment, she kicks off her shoes and walks right to Chase's room to at least get him into his pajamas. He puts the puck on his pillow. "I wanna sleep with the puck daddy gave me," he tells his mom.

"That's all up to you, Chasey," she laughs as she pulls out a pair of pajamas for her son. "You can sleep with the puck or put it on your table. Whatever you'd like to do, my love. Get changed and we'll wait for daddy to get home together, okay? Maybe watch his interview." If he did any interviews.

Chase gives his mom a little thumbs up and she laughs as she leaves the room to let him get into his pajamas. She changes out of her own outfit into one of Ethan's old Michigan hoodies that she stole and checkered pajama pants.

When she emerges from her room, she sees Chase on the living room couch already. She smiles and shakes her head as she joins her son. She grabs her laptop and goes to the Devils’ YouTube page to see if Ethan did any media after the game.

He did. The most recent video was uploaded ten minutes ago and is titled “Edwards, Hischier, J. Hughes, Keefe talk about Wild win over Minnesota”. She smiles and clicks the video. Ethan does his interview first, and it’s about two minutes long.

“Ethan, how did it feel to get your first NHL goal so early in the season?” one of the reporters asks.

“Really good,” he replies. “Takes a lot of pressure off of me early so I don’t focus on that and focus on bettering my play this season.”

He looks around as another reporter asks, “Was there anyone special in the building for your first NHL game? We saw you interacting with a group behind the glass during warmups.”

A smile grows on Ethan’s face as he says, “Yeah, uh, I had a few people here today. it was a surprise that my fiancée planned at some point. She flew in my parents from Canada and brought our son to watch the game. Chase had so much fun during warmups. I could see him from every angle on the ice and it was a really special moment for me to have them all here tonight.”

“Daddy said my name!” Chase exclaims. “He mentioned you too, mommy.”

“Yeah he did,” she replies. “Keep watching, buddy.”

The first reporter asks another question. “Do you consider your roster spot safe after tonight?”

Ethan shakes his head. “I will keep fighting hard every single game and practice to keep my spot,” he explains. “I scored one goal tonight and blocked a couple of shots throughout the game but I don’t believe my spot is safe. I’m aware I could be sent down at any moment and I want to make sure that doesn’t happen. As long as I keep fighting and producing then I don’t see why I couldn’t be on this roster for all 82 games.”

She smiles at Ethan’s response. He’s told her so many times over the last few days that he’s worried about his roster spot. It sounds like he knows what he has to do to stay on the NHL roster.

“How was the locker room before the game?” another reporter asks. “Was it intense or were the boys ready?”

“Oh, the locker room was buzzing before the game,” he replies. “I mean, everyone was ready to start this season on a winning note, especially after getting knocked out in the first round last year. I came in and realized what kind of team I’m on this season and I’m ready to fight with them to get further into the playoffs and get the Cup.”

The reporters thank Ethan and it cuts to Nico’s part of the interview. She pauses the video and looks at Chase. He has a proud look on his face, like he’s showing how proud he is of his dad.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Chasey?”

“Will daddy have an interview after every game?”

“I think it depends on what he does during the game,” she explains. “If he scores then he’ll most likely do an interview. If he has a good game then he might do an interview. I don’t think it’ll be after every game.”

Chase nods in response.

The sound of the door opening sounds behind them and they both look behind them. Tara and Lee walk in first. Ethan follows them in his game day suit. Chase is off the couch immediately as he goes to greet his dad.

She’s slower to approach them so the boys can have their moment. Tara and Lee say their good nights and go down to the extra bedroom. Ethan picks up Chase and hugs his son. “Did you have fun at the game, buddy?” he asks Chase.

“Yeah!” Chase giggles. “Thank you for the puck.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replies. “Let me say hi to your mom and we’ll go put you to bed. Can you go get ready for bed? We’ll be right in.”

Chase nods as he is put down. He scurries down the hallway and Ethan turns to his fiancée.

She smiles. “That goal was very sexy of you, E,” she tells him. “I’ve never found you hotter than when you scored in the NHL.”

“I have a bone to pick with you,” Ethan laughs. “I did not know that you guys were coming to the game. Of all days to surprise me at a game.”

As she drapes her arms around his neck, she says, “I was able to surprise both you and Chase. I wanted the game to be memorable for both of you.”

“It was,” he tells her. “I’ll never forget my first NHL game. It makes it so much more special since you and Chase were there.”

She smiles and surges up to press a lingering kiss to his lips. Ethan’s hands rest on her waist and he holds her there for a second. “We’re going to end up having another baby by the end of the season if you think me scoring goals is sexy,” he mumbles against her lips.

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” she tells him without breaking the kiss. “Having another little Edwards running around. Plus, I’ve always thought you scoring goals was sexy.”

Ethan laughs.

“Mommy!” Chase calls. “Daddy! Come put me to bed!”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[angelltheninth]

husband!Gun x wife!reader where she kept avoiding intimacy with him because she was afraid of her stretch mark after giving birth, but he proved her that he still adores her body no matter what happened, pleaseee 😙

thank youuu 💖

Thank you for such a cute request!

Pairing: Gun Park x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, married life, being parents, bodyworship, insecurity, cuddles, reassurance, kissing

A/N: Going on a vacation in two days so I'm gonna write a few of these posts ahead of time.

Husband!Gun Park knows you've been feeling bad about your body lately. Ever since you gave birth you've been covering up a lot more, wearing baggy clothes, buying different clothes and almost hiding yourself from him when ever you changed for bed.

Husband!Gun Park offers you massages every night before bed. He wants you to know he still likes touching you and that will never change no matter how much your body does. You don't have to hide from him and if you try to then he will hold your wrists with his hands and kiss you breathless.

Husband!Gun Park takes you clothes and lingerie shopping and tells you how pretty you look in more revealing clothes. He's not ashamed when he's vocal about how pretty his wife is, he'll say it with his full chest and doesn't care who hears him. Besides he is more than capable of defending that position.

Husband!Gun Park wants to take as many pictures of you as you'll let him. He will brag about how pretty his wife is and you can't stop him. At this point you're not even surprised at the amount of pictures he has of you in his phone.

Husband!Gun Park runs his fingers across your stretch marks until you let him hear the noises he wants to hear. These touches won't ever stop, there will never be a day where he doesn't want you. If you doubt that then he will spend all night keeping you up and reminding how pretty you are to him.

Husband!Gun Park might find your body even more attractive after your pregnancy. If you told him that such a thing was possible he wouldn't have believed it, he was already crazy over you. But he cuddles you and your baby every day, watching with careful and adorning eyes as you nurse them.

Husband!Gun Park looks forward to you working out with him if it will make you feel better. He's always working out and that could be a good bonding activity, a good way to spend your time together outside of home. A great way to work up a sweat together.

Husband!Gun Park punches and fights anyone who criticizes your body in front of him. They're probably jealous that he has a good, loving and beautiful wife by his side. Stupidity won't save them from him beating the living hell out of them until they growl and apologize.

Husband!Gun Park encourages you to wear clothing that shows off your stretch marks when you're in the house. When he gives you compliments he hopes your self-confidence will grow enough for you to no longer be ashamed of your body. You wouldn't stop loving him if his body went through a change he knows you would still love him, and he loves you too.

Husband!Gun Park kisses your stretch marks every morning. He pulls your pajamas up and makes sure you look at him while he's kissing you. The more you see his love for you the more you'll know that there's nothing that you could go through and lose his love for you.

[zuppizup]

Circumstance

“You didn’t have to put him in the dungeon, Ez!” Rayla fumed, struggling to keep her temper in check. “In chains!”

“Rayla, Callum freed Aaravos!” Soren grabbed her by the upper arm, attempting to pull her back.

“He didn’t feel like he had a choice!” Rayla wrenched her arm back, glaring at the crown guard.

“He admitted to it in front of Janai and Zubeia. He made no excuses. What else could I do there and then?” Ezran sighed, tears in his eyes. “He’s my brother, Rayla, but I still have to consider my people. He’s put more than Katolis in danger.”

Rayla tried to gather her thoughts, swallowing past the thick lump in her throat. The weight of it all hung heavy upon her. Callum had done it for her after all, traded the Cube for her life. The guilt of it all felt like a dark heavy cloak smothering her, wearing her down. She hated the thought that Callum was in the position he was in because of her.

Sighing, she shook her head. “What would you have done, Ez? In that moment, what would you have done?”

“You think you’re a good judge of that?”

Rayla turned to look at Soren, having almost forgotten he was there.

“You had an opening, didn’t you? Back when Aaravos possessed him again. You could have ended it all, there and then.” Soren raised his chin, his eyes piercing. “You could have stopped things before we ever got here, but you didn’t. You really think we can trust your judgement on any of this?”

“You think I should have killed him?” Her voice caught as she glared at Soren defiantly.

“I think neither of you has the high ground when it comes to considering the greater good.”

“I’d do anything to keep him safe.” Rayla swallowed, biting her lip. “He’d have done the same for Ezran. He wanted to protect us.”

“I know.” Soren held her gaze. “And that’s the sort of reasoning my father used to come up with.”

Rayla clenched her fists, glaring at him. “Callum is nothing like Viren.” How dare he-

“Isn’t he?” Soren raised an eyebrow, clearly challenging her. “He didn’t even attempt to excuse what he’d done.”

Rayla took deep breaths, trying desperately to think of some way to counter this.

Ezran stepped forward, taking her hands, soothing her tight fists. “They’re afraid of him, Rayla. They’ve seen what Viren did-”

Her breath caught in her throat, as she blinked back tears. “Ezran, he’s not Viren.”

“Rayla, I-” Ezran looked between her and Soren, his brow furrowed. “I understand why he did it. I do, I think most people would but... if it came down to it. If something similar happened again, if its Katolis or, or the Pentarchy? Xadia. Do you- What do you think he’d do?”

Ezran stared at her, his eyes wide. Challenging. Begging her to counter. To insist Callum wouldn’t falter again. Wouldn’t put either of them before everyone else.. everything else.

Before the world.

She tried to look him in the eye, to hold his gaze... but she couldn’t... because, well, she already knew the answer.

———

Mayhaps in the continuity of Borrowed Time, I dunno

[emphistic]

Écoute Chérie

A/N: grr

<- Series m.list

When a certain someone — specifically a blond male, showed up to Sukuna’s door that next morning holding a wad of cash in his hand, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to sock him in the jaw. But he contained himself, saying, “Keep that shit for yourself. I don’t want it.”

“Oh? You backing out now, Captain?”

“. . .You’re one sick fuck, Zen’in.” He snatched the money out of the younger’s hands, before slamming his door shut.

Pride is a terrible, terrible thing, and Ryomen Sukuna was full of it.

“Oh, my God, girl! I feel like we moved on a little too quickly. Pause: He—you—you guys KISSED? Stop, don’t—don’t play with me right now. I can’t even get a guy to let me cheat off of him on a final, but you kissed someone on the FIRST date. Let me say that again, FIRST date?! As in the first EVER date you two have been on together.”

If you were counting — which you weren’t, this would have been the seventy-ninth time you giggled out loud this evening. You and Nobara were sitting — no, standing, actually, with you leaning forward with your elbows on the counter, and the brunette doing likewise. You decided — well, you were forced — to fill her in on all that happened the day before. You had just gotten off of your shift, and, obviously, were still in your uniform, but Nobara insisted you tell her anyway. She wouldn’t and “couldn’t” wait until you got back to your apartment.

“Yes, Nobs, for the hundredth time. We kissed and even added a little bit of tongue and then he walked me back to my apartment and we fucked all night.”

The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her jaw dropped to the floor and even broke through the tiles and went further beneath the surface. Just kidding; because that’s not possible, but her expression was even more funny after you said, “I’m just messing with you, girl. I have some self-worth left, believe it or not, and I wouldn’t sleep with someone after the first date.”

“Funny how you decided to deny only that part.”

“. . .”

“Don’t—don’t tell me the rest was true. Oh, my God! STOP! I was only kidding; but you—you actually added tongue? What the fuck? And, you just decided to not call me right after? Wow.” Nobara crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air for only a few seconds before she went back to gripping your shoulders and shaking your body. “You are such a freak, my God.”

“He also walked me to my door, y’know. No need to focus on only those parts.” You tried to bring her focus onto that, because you found that part the most adorable.

Truth was, the only reason you didn’t immediately call Nobara that night was because you spent the last few hours of that night screaming into your pillow like a schoolgirl and reminiscing on all that happened.

“You know,” you started, turning to face the man behind you, “you didn’t have to walk me all the way to my door, right? I could’ve just gone by myself.” 

You had insisted and insisted to Sukuna that you would be fine, and that the other residents of the building were friendly and cordial, but Sukuna ignored every one of your pleas and walked right next to you anyway. From the parking lot, to the elevators, and down the hallway, Sukuna never left your side, and actually, was surprisingly nice company. You two talked on the way about how good or bad the food at the game was, how hot and humid it was, how annoying the older gentleman beside your seats was, you two talked plenty enough.

“I know. I wanted to.” Sukuna stopped to lean against the wall beside your apartment, crossing his arms as you pulled out your keys.

“Hey, so, I had a lot of fun today. I guess baseball isn’t as boring as I thought it was,” you laughed, scratching the back of your neck. “Thanks for inviting me.” You had tried to tell him on the car ride to your place, but you chickened out.

Sukuna snorted, “No problem; my pleasure, actually. And, I had a lot of fun, too. I think I enjoyed today more than I would if Yuuji was there instead of you. So thank you for coming.”

“Oh, please. Don’t lie; he’s literally your brother. Besides, Yuuji’s not even here to defend himself. Kinda rude, if I say so myself.”

“I’m not lying, though, really. I enjoyed today. I can’t even remember the last time I was able to leave the house for anything fun and actually, sincerely, enjoy it.” Sukuna moved his head as he spoke, as if in a way to accentuate his point. You found that completely and utterly adorable. Just the thought of you being part of making his day alone made you blush, and you looked away sheepishly.

“I’m glad you had a nice time, Sukuna. And thank you, again, for today.” You caught Sukuna by surprise — beyond surprise, actually — when you cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his cheek for a chaste kiss. Mwah! The sound was audible through the night. And it was the sound which replayed over and over in Sukuna’s mind as he lay completely awake for hours past midnight in bed. The only thing he dreamt of — when he eventually fell asleep, that is — was you. You.

Now that he thought of it, there were no words to describe you. No words to describe your beauty, though, ethereal did come close. No words to describe the smile which you gave him when you two passed each other on campus. No words to describe how friendly and comforting the melody of your voice sounded to him; if you were a siren, and he, a pirate, Sukuna would dive headfirst into the water. No words to describe how drunk, how dizzy, how pathetic you made Sukuna, even with mere eye contact. But, there was a word to describe Sukuna.

It’s quite simple, actually.

Sukuna was whipped. Absolutely enamored of you. But. . . Very unfortunate he only noticed now. And, it was such, such a shame that he was also full of pride.

“Okay, that’s so romantic, though! I can’t believe it. My friend is gonna get with the love of her life, and I don’t even know how to turn the stove on. Oh, my God. My friend’s getting with the love of her life. OH, MY GOD!” That was not even close to the last time you would hear Nobara say “Oh, my God” that night.

-

“You wouldn’t happen to . . . y’know . . . have plans . . . this weekend?”

You didn’t know why Sukuna kept on pausing, but you knew it was oddly suspicious.

“And if I did?”

“Then, I wouldn’t ask you to . . . help me . . . with some . . . math.”

“Sukuna, are you okay? You sound like you’re being held at gunpoint.” You crossed your arms, failing to stifle a giggle. You really couldn’t fathom why he was acting so strange. Sukuna couldn’t, either. 

Ever since the day you both went to that baseball game together, Sukuna’s been different, to say the least. And yeah, maybe after kissing someone for the first time changes your behavior towards them, but still, it was strange. 

He wasn’t as cocky when going over his daily feats at basketball practice; he wasn’t as blunt and insulting to freshmans whom you two came across while on campus; he wasn’t as teasing or sharp with his remarks as he usually was; he wasn’t as assertive and casual whilst slinging an arm ‘round your shoulder. He wasn’t him. Then again, Sukuna also didn’t know why he was acting this way.

“I’m . . . fine. I’m fine.”

“Okay. . . Anyways, I am free. So yeah, I can. My place or yours?”

“Ah, you don’t have a lot of good alcohol,” Sukuna tapped his index finger repeatedly on his chin, as if contemplating which location to use was very difficult for someone like him. “I get bored with just water. So, it’ll have to be mine. ‘Sides, I don’t think Gigi likes me that much anyway.”

You laughed. Sukuna wasn’t very keen on having you tutor him while your apparently “murderous” cat was present. Giselle, also known by her nickname ‘Gigi’, was a black-furred breed, with very sharp, untrimmed nails, which proved useful whenever Sukuna came over to hang out with you or do some other shit. Maybe it was because of how provocative Sukuna and his usual cold demeanor were. Maybe it was because of how close Sukuna got to Gigi’s owner whenever you sat down on the couch together. Maybe it was because of the fact Sukuna took your attention off of your so precious cat whenever he stepped foot into the apartment. Maybe it was because Sukuna was just Sukuna. And Gigi didn’t like that one bit.

“Alright, since you’re afraid of a mere feline, which — mind you, is less than a quarter of both your height and size.”

“Well, that feline comes from the depths of Hell. So yeah, excuse me if I prefer to stay sixty miles away from it.”

“Gigi comes from Hell, now? Pfft—she’s probably just excited to see her previous neighbor, then,” you snorted.

Sukuna gave you a side glance, hiding his growing grin. He was not about to openly admit you were even slightly funny. No, he would never give you that kind of satisfaction.

“Okay, so can you tell me what the variable ‘d’ is?” You had explained the formulas as best as you could, even taking it a step further and dumbing it down immensely. Then you left the living room to put away the dishes, leaving the pink-haired male to attempt his assignment on his own. — With some guidance here and there.

Sukuna and you had ordered Chinese, deciding to study while eating. And while your plan for energizing proved to be frustrating at first — since a certain someone didn’t know how to eat with his mouth closed, you had become used to it by the end. Your tactic? Drowning out the audible chewing noises. Eugh.

“Why don’t you come over here, and I’ll show you.” Sukuna leaned his head on the cushions, wrapping an arm around the back of the sofa.

You scrunched up your face in reply, pausing in the middle of scrubbing food and gunk and whatever off of the porcelain plates. “Pass.

“I told you already, Sukuna. The exponential functions are the ones that slowly curve up; think of it as this: good things happen to a bad thing. Get it? Like, their lives are getting better. And, since I know you’ve already forgotten, a ‘y’ value can have as many ‘x’ values, but the ‘x’ value is . . . unambiguous, so it only has one ‘y’ value. Now, does that help?” 

“Ugh, this is such a bore. How can anyone pay attention to these types of things long enough in class to be good at it? Fuck.”

You took his consequent silence as him giving up on life and continuing to work on solving the problem in his evident misery, but oh, how wrong you were.

“S’kuna, what are you doing?” you sucked in a breath. He was so close. So close, to you. You thought it had only been two seconds, but in those two seconds, it only took Ryomen Sukuna four easy strides to end up here. — With his chest pressed almost right up against your back. Key word: almost. Yes, Ryomen Sukuna was so close, but still, so far.

“Helping you.” God, did he have to be that ambiguous all the time? He was like a walking enigma, a puzzle, a riddle, for you to solve. A mystery for which you would soon lose sleep over.

Sukuna easily grabbed several dried plates, removing them from the rack, and storing them in the cabinet above your head. His hand left lingering touches on your arm as they passed by each other. You slowly, gradually, accumulated a mountain of goosebumps.

It was infuriating.

He was so close, but not close enough.

Every time he moved to grab another plate, he would rest his hand upon your hip or on the curve of your waist. Sometimes he ran his large-scaled hands up your middle; sometimes he moved them lower, and lower. Was he trying to give you heart palpitations?

“Y’know,” he started, his voice dripping with honey, “you can keep breathing, right? What, do I smell that bad?” he snickered.

“I—what—why—what the hell are you doing?” You wanted to argue that he had no sense of personal space, which, yes, was true, but you feared he would stop whatever he was doing at the moment. And, you didn’t want that.

“I’m . . . helping . . . you.” He bent down to your level, lips brushing your ear as he spoke, and his hot breath fanning your ear. 

There it was again. That ‘pausing thing’ of his. But, this time, it was different. Earlier he was pausing as if he was unsure, but now, he was pausing just to create suspense and further rile you up. He clearly knew what he was doing; he knew what he was doing to you. Poor ol’ you, who just innocently wanted to wash some dishes.

You had previously wanted to turn around and properly face him in order to confront him better, but now, you didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not like you could, anyway, you were stuck between the counter and him. Your eyelashes fluttered, as your eyes darted here and there. And your palms began to sweat, you quickly wiped them on the material of your sweater, but your continued attempts were futile.

“No—no, you’re not.” You struggled to stifle your heavy breathing, and it took you quite a time to form a sentence without giving away the tight feeling in your chest.

“Yeah? Then, how could I help you, hm? Tell me,” he spoke your name firmly, like he was anticipating your breaking, and egging you on nevertheless. Then again, how could he not be? It had been days, days, since you two went to that game. Days since he felt like he was in heaven and talking to an angel. Days since he felt your lips on his. Days since he felt well. Days. And for days, he’s been restless, hungry, thirsty, empty. Hell, forget about your predicament, he was the one close to breaking.

“Tell me,” he said your name, again. “Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”

“. . .You can help by telling me what the fuck we’re doing right now.”

“Don’t you already know? And here, I thought it was obvious.” Sukuna bit his lip, but that didn’t help any bit in suppressing his laugh.

“What . . . are we . . . doing?” You repeated.

Sukuna was silent, for a moment, “You’re tutoring me, on math.”

“I already know that, dumbass. I mean, what are we doing?”

“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that.”

“Oh, my God—what are we doing? What are we? For fuck’s sake. How thick is your skull really, damn.” You finally mustered the courage to twist your body around, and though you were only met with his chest, you sighed and looked upward to meet his face.

“That’s a little harsh.”

You glowered at Sukuna.

“Okay, okay. I’ll talk,” he cleared his throat. “We’re . . . just us. I don’t know what to tell you. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. That’s all there is to it, right?”

For a second, you thought he was referencing what you had previously said to Nobara, but then the rational side of your brain kicked in and said, “No, there’s no way he could’ve overhead that,” and so, the surprised expression disappeared from your face as you looked down at the floor of the kitchen.

“We’re friends, yeah, that’s all there is to it. . . But friends don’t do . . . this. So we clearly, definitely, shouldn’t be doing this.”

“So, we can pretend we’re not doing this, right? There, fixed the problem.”

“And if I don’t want to pretend we’re not doing this?”

“Then don’t; we don’t have to pretend.”

“But—”

“Please,” he looked at you with such an earnest expression on his features, “don’t say that word. Not again. You’ve no idea, no idea, how much it drives me crazy when you say that word. Mad, insane, deranged. Anything but that, please, anything. We’re clearly not friends. We’re clearly not just friends. So please, don’t call whatever we have as that. I’m sick of it.”

“If we’re not friends, then, what are we?” Your voice was just above a whisper, and you couldn’t even recall when it turned out that way. 

“. . .We’re whatever you want us to be. . . What do you want us to be?”

“No, you decide, Sukuna. What do you want us to be?” You gingerly laid a palm on top of his chest.

“I decide?”

You nodded, “Whatever you want to be . . . will be.”

“I want us to be . . . us. Together. Just us. No one else; just you and me.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

He took your hand from his chest and held it in his, as if in a way to seal his promise. “I’m glad.”

Having had a couple beers — in favor of Sukuna giving up on attempting any more math, you were a little drunk. Just a little. 

“You have a stupid, stupid face, but it’s still my favorite. It’s my favorite to stare out. It’s my favorite to kiss. It’s my favorite to rub — your skin is so soft. It’s my favorite. My favorite.” 

He let you pepper as many pecks as you wanted onto his cheek, but when you tried to give Sukuna a proper kiss on the lips, he quickly moved his face to the side so you unintentionally planted your lips on his cheek instead. 

For, he didn’t want you to freak out in the morning and think he was the type of guy to take advantage of someone while they were even a little bit tipsy.

Besides, he had just gotten you. He couldn’t lose you now, could he.

A/N: i love portraying raw emotion

[httpkaulitz]

high enough

PAIRINGS: Vampire!Bill x Female reader

CONTENT: Smut

SYNOPSIS: Bill is a little addicted to you.

WARNINGS: mention of addiction, mention of blood and bite, manipulation, fingering, oral (f receiving)

You met Bill by chance, after another day of work you were coming home and literally bumped into him. Staggering and somewhat disoriented, he didn't know where he was.

Against all your thoughts of self-preservation you took him home and took care of him.

When Bill told you he was a vampire, you thought he was crazy and when he showed you what he was you strangely remained calm. Somehow you felt like he wouldn't hurt you. And he never did.

All the blood he had from you was given to him willingly. You wanted to help him and so you did.

And it was by wanting to help him that you ended up in this situation.

"What do you want?" Bill asked impatiently.

"What I want?" You repeated, looking at yourself in the mirror. "Nothing. I'm happy."

He let out a frustrated groan before taking a deep breath. You watched him straighten up, though the action was considerably less intimidating. His bleached blonde hair was disheveled and tangled with a light sweat on his forehead.

"Damn it." You observed. “you’re worse than an addicted.”

“Brilliant deduction! Do you want a fucking medal?” You raised an eyebrow.

Bill slapped his face, rubbing his stubble tiredly.

“Can’t you just help me?” He was always ready to dramatize, you already knew his tactics. You turned to him.

“We have already had this discussion. No." You said firmly.

"I can give you-." He started to speak but you interrupted him before he could even continue his speech about how good he could be and give you expensive things that you never had. You've been through this before.

"Nothing." You interrupted, crossing your arms. “I don't want anything from you, Bill. I like my life. I like my boyfriend. I like my job. There is nothing I want from you that can change my mind. Plus, I’m pretty sure I can think of a handful of humans who would be more than willing…”

“I DON’T WANT ANY IDIOTS OFF THE STREET!” His jaw was tense. If he applied more force, you'd think he might break his molars. “I want your blood. Yours. Do I need to spell this out for you?”

He approached you, brown eyes glaring at you.

"Please." His voice was almost pleading.

Inhaling silently, you studied him with half-closed eyes.

A second later and you shook your head.

“There is nothing special about my blood. You're being needy because I was there for you when no one else was. It was my mistake. I won't let that happen again.”

Before he could lift a finger, your arm flew forward. Either he was too weak to fight back or he wasn't even trying. Whatever the reasoning, you were easily able to make him fall back into a chair.

He didn't seem surprised by the gesture, nor did he try to fight it.

“I’m going to meet my boyfriend.” You said approaching him. “When I come back, you will be gone.”

“Liebe.” He whispered with furrowed brows and doe eyes.

“Bill, stop. You're better than that." You paused, grimacing. “I'm serious, control yourself.”

His head fell back and despite your better judgment, you went to his side. The last thing you needed was a drugged-out vampire in your apartment.

The moment one of your hands wrapped around the back of his head, Bill grabbed your wrist.

The pressure was gentle but sticky. His reddish brown eyes tried to mask a poorly concealed despair. Both pupils were dilated.

"You know." He drawled, bringing the back of your hand to his cheek. "You're my favorite human."

“I’m not yours.” You corrected, unable to not find his attention somewhat amusing.

“Oh, but you are.” He snapped and you rolled your eyes, the stubble rubbing against the skin of your hand like sandpaper. “It means your blood is very special. You are my special human. I don’t want anyone’s blood but yours.”

He continued stroking your hand. You found it slightly disturbing and strangely adorable.

“Quick fix.” He whimpered softly, pulling your fingers up to his lips as he blinked rapidly. “Just a taste will be enough for me. I won’t bother you again after this.”

You let out a pained gasp, your thumb thoughtlessly brushing his upper lip. He responded by kissing the tip of your thumb.

“I won't do it again. This is the last time, okay?” You always said that and you both pretended to believe it. The truth is, you couldn't say no to him even if you tried.

"Sure." He agreed, releasing your hand. "Last time."

                      ✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

“Oh, Jesus, not again.” You exclaimed impatiently.

This time, he was lying in your bed, with the sheets piled up beside him. Your comforter was thrown somewhere on the floor.

“Liebe.” He greeted you lazily. Despite knowing his name, he never used it. Always using some German word that you didn't know what it meant. “I'm glad you're here. Would you mind giving me some liquid?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Unless you want me to piss in your mouth, I suggest you get out of here." You responded sarcastically without patience.

“Piss in my mouth?” He repeated slowly. Without warning, he burst into laughter, fingers gripping the sheets in delight.

You made a mental note to change them after he left.

“I’m an eccentric bastard, but not that eccentric.” He said. “You said last time that you wouldn't donate again, but you don't understand. You don't understand the euphoria you give me. It’s… I imagine it’s magical.”

''I'm sure you can live without it.'' Spinning around, you quickly rid yourself of the shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair. You took a deep breath, arms reaching for the ceiling. The position was maintained until you felt the pleasant burning in your muscles.

"But I do not want." He says thoughtfully.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You mumbled, taking off your jeans.

He didn't respond to your joke. Instead, he got up from the bed. Not that you heard or noticed it.

Until you felt the unexpected pressure of two warm hands resting on your hips.

“Bill.” You warned, looking at him over your shoulder.

"Hmm?" He hummed, shamelessly pressing into you.

“Get off me.” You whispered seriously hoping he would respect your request.

"I don't want." His grip tightened. You tried to ignore his hardened length digging teasingly against your ass.

“I heard a rumor that you’re not happy with your little toy.” He whispered in your ear huskily. You were so shocked by his boldness that you ignored how your skin crawled.

"You don't have ri-."

"It is not?" Bill asked with a raised eyebrow. “I keep tabs on my favorite human.”

You weren’t sure if he was serious or bluffing.

“So, you have romance, flowers, blah, blah, etc.” He listed, two fingers slipping under the band of your panties but not going any further. “But when it comes to being naughty, he falls a little… boring.”

A calloused hand brushed against your ribcage, nails grazing the skin experimentally. Involuntarily, your breathing became shallow.

“A little sexually frustrated, aren’t you?” He continued.

You were ready to lift a heel and tap his toes when, without warning, he grabbed one of your breasts, smirking when you shivered.

“I could do anything you wanted.” He suggested, brushing the outline of your hard nipple with his thumb. “I could be a good boy for you, if you want. I could easily spend hours paying attention to your pretty pussy, you know. I spent a beautiful day or two thinking about it.”

His breath sent a wave of goosebumps across your shoulder.

“Playing with your clit. Sucking it. Making you all nervous. Always giving. I don't have to worry about my own needs. I’ll put my tongue to good use, ma’am.”

Your hips moved forward as the two previously inactive fingers slid across the opening, not penetrating but brushing the sensitive wetness with tantalizing intent.

Protesting the action would have been counterproductive. Despite Bill's irritating nature of manipulating and being a general jerk, his words were leaving you embarrassingly wet.

And that was what was confusing you.

“You are a pathetic addicted.” You tried to sound angry, but your voice came out shaky.

You felt his shrug before he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You are my conflicted and sexually frustrated supplier. I don’t think we need to point fingers” He said amused.

Biting your lip, you forced yourself not to think about the hand massaging your breast or the two fingers caressing your pussy.

It was a trickery. The word alone made an unpleasant feeling of guilt in your stomach. Your boyfriend was a nice guy. Better than you dated in a long time. He treated you with a respect that's hard to find these days.

So, the sex wasn't the best. Was it really worth throwing away months of a well-paced relationship just for a few seconds of mindless pleasure? Especially with Bill, of all people!

You may not be the best person in the world, but you tried to be good.

On the other hand, befriending him wasn't exactly a step in that direction.

“Mistress?” He was gone. There was no longer Bill in that tone.

You would have found his submission more comical if it hadn't worried you so much. And it intrigued you more than anything.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” He insisted. “Our little secret. Fair deal, I guess. In fact, I'll give you a free sample.”

Unexpectedly, he removed both of his hands and moved away from you. The disappointment you felt at the loss of contact was not something you wanted to reflect on.

You saw him kneel before you, his eyes wide but focused. More focused than you usually witnessed when he craved your blood.

"Come here." He gestured.

When you stayed still, he snorted softly. With a few quick movements, he knelt so he was eye level with your hips.

You knew what he was about to do. This, perhaps, was the worst part. You knew and you felt…excited. Relieved, even. For the first time in months, you were about to receive as much as you gave. Appropriately.

It was selfish and terrible, but equally thrilling and exciting.

“Open your legs a little for me, baby.” You did as he said, teeth firmly gripping your bottom lip.

"My God, you've been a lecherous young lady, haven't you?" Bill smiled, hands steadying himself on your hips.

"Shut up." You mumbled, ignoring his embarrassment.

"Yes ma'am." His fingers hooked into the elastic and slowly slid your panties down. The entire time, his tongue was stuck between his teeth while his eyes never left your pussy.

You took off your panties, almost shaking with excitement when he threw them over his shoulder.

“Hmm.” He marveled, tilting his head. "I was right. Beautiful."

The compliment made you not only blush but also become slightly irritated. Were your priorities really that far off?

That depressing thought spurred your next action.

Quickly, a hand grabbed Bill's hair by the roots. With a push, you pulled back, ensuring his eyes locked with yours.

“If you want my blood, you work for it. Got it?" You didn't even realize you had a dominant streak until Bill's obedient nod made you smile. “If I don't reach my high, you certainly won't reach yours.”

"Yes ma'am." He responded obediently. No sign of sarcasm or mockery.

You looked at him for a second longer and let go of his hair. Bill wasted no time.

It didn't take more than five minutes for you to cum. Whether this was a result of not having pleasure for so long or Bill's genuine talent, you weren't sure.

What you could be sure of, when a hand found his hair again and kept his tongue and lips attached to your clit, was that you were entirely willing to make that bargain again.

                     ✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

This arrangement lasted a solid month. Which surprised you. You thought the moral of exchanging blood for sexual acts would disgust you. At least enough to present a bigger argument the next time Bill showed up again. But that wasn't the case.

The next meeting was certainly a little awkward. You came home from your shift and found him sitting patiently on your bed. He didn't say anything. He just watched you as you tiredly took off your clothes. His submission was strange but attractive. It wasn't until you were blessed with a quiet Bill that you realized how much you appreciated him.

"How are you doing?"

It was strange, but you couldn't help but ask. Bill may have been an addicted and willing to do anything to get what you wanted, but he was still a living creature beneath that stupid desperation. Completely degrading him brought you no pleasure and wasn't something you felt completely comfortable doing.

“You won’t hurt me.” Bill complained. “I'm a big boy. Do your worst."

“Do you want a safe word?” Yet you asked.

“Unless you have plans to kill me, I really don’t see the point.” That was the last discussion about a safe word or words in general.

Bill came three times a week, sometimes four. Always when you were alone. His snark, thankfully, wasn’t present and he did everything you requested of him.

At first, you were careful about boundaries. The first week was spent mostly in your bed, with Bill buried between your thighs. He was surprisingly energetic, licking and sucking you like a hungry animal. His fingers were excited too, starting to pinch your clit and moving in and out of you at deliciously insane speeds.

No orgasms were faked, and if you were taking a while to cum, Bill worked with impressive voracity to ensure you reached your high.

That's what made you bolder.

In the second week, you ordered him to touch himself.

"What?" He asked confused.

"I want you to touch yourself." He studied you with half-closed eyes.

"You understand this isn't about my pleasure, right?"

"Yes. It's about mine. Drop your pants, sit on the chair and touch yourself.” Your voice didn't even tremble.

His confusion was evident, but he did as you asked.

As you guessed, watching him masturbate was a deeply satisfying sight. On some level, you wanted him to feel pleasure from this arrangement, but that had more to do with fascination. Fascination with being able to make someone bigger and stronger take off his underwear, sit down, spread his legs, wrap his hand around his generously sized cock and slowly start stroking himself. In front of you. Simply because you ordered it.

The control was intoxicating.

You didn’t ask him to do anything else after he climaxed with a strangled moan. And it was one of the first times you realized that Bill had no idea what your game was. Or at least why you were enjoying watching him cum.

The rest of the month followed roughly the same schedule. You would give him an order and after a brief but curious glance in his direction, Bill would obey.

Many of the commands required you to cum. At you request, Bill got into the habit of bringing a vibrator. Which he used on you very well.

Some days the commands were to get him out. You were creative and it was never the same way. True, he always touched himself, but sometimes it was kneeling on the bed or bending over a chair so you could admire his cute ass. Once, you even deprived him of his vision with a scarf, taking advantage of the slight uncertainty his hand felt when caressing himself.

By the four week, you were comfortable enough to ride his persistent tongue into pleasure without an ounce of shame or embarrassment.

On the days Bill didn't show up, you questioned what you were doing with him. In public and surrounded by friends, you were passive and sociable. On nights when the two of you were alone, you were loose and experiencing some serious dominance kink.

For a long time, you were puzzled and faintly appalled by your actions.

Then one night, it hit you.

When would you ever get that kind of sexual freedom again? That ability to explore what made your toes curl and grip the headboard until your mind went blank and your voice hoarse.

Nights with Bill made you feel liberated. They made you feel like a woman. The vampire never judged you, although in the end he received your blood, so that was his triumph.

Regardless, the ability to delve deeper into your sexuality and learn the new ways your body responded to stimulation was one of the biggest reasons you never withheld your blood from Bill.

If there was any guilt you held onto, it was because Bill did the things you asked for your blood, nothing more. It would have been nice if his actions were genuine. But he was an addicted, you reminded yourself.

This, when you looked back on the whole fiasco, was ultimately where you made an error in judgment. Assuming Bill regarded your meetings as nothing but a necessary task in order to gain the true source of pleasure: your blood.

In fact, you were completely unaware that after only two weeks together, he’d completely kicked his blood habit.

And that he was testing you.

It wasn’t until the month was complete that you found out why.

                         ✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

He wasn't sitting on the bed this time.

Instead, he was standing tall and physically looked immaculate. Hair combed, beard trimmed and he looked at you differently.

The moment you absorbed all these changes, you felt a distinct shift in power.

It was definitely not in your hands anymore.

“You look healthy.” You greeted. “Who finally got to talk you out of it?”

A part of you couldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. You sessions would probably come to an end. And the Bill before you certainly didn't look like he was taking orders.

But you weren't selfish enough to deny feeling genuine happiness that he was no longer an addicted. No one deserved to be a victim of this desire. Of course, he will always have to live with the desire to drink blood, but now in a controlled way.

“That’d be you, darling.” He revealed. “Put plenty of things in perspective for me.”

"Good." You encouraged, offering him a soft smile.

He continued watching you without blinking.

“See yourself in the mirror lately?” He asked.

Immediately, a hand patted your hair.

“Did a bird shit on my head again?” You walked over to the mirror, fingers examining you head.

Bill appeared behind you and stopped your search by grabbing your wrist.

You looked at him.

“Skin doesn’t have the vibrant glow it normally has.” He whispered calmly.

Eyebrows furrowed, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Wow. How did you miss that?

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered.” He continued. “Always giving me the amount of blood I ask for is not an easy task. Or a healthy one. But I can’t allow you to get hurt.”

You nodded absently. Your brain became more fuzzy at the consideration Bill was giving you.

"Why are you being nice?" You asked, looking at him warily.

“Like I said… I got a little perspective on things.” He replied.

“Do I need to be worried?” You asked apprehensively.

"Hardly. Not only have you fulfilled my needs, but you did so discretely. As an added bonus, you even made personal sacrifices. That right there... that's the way to a man's heart."

“I think you’re overestimating my worth.” You pulled your hand away. The conversation starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Honey, you’re underestimating yourself. Let me explain what happened last month to you. I was vulnerable, needy and weak. Instead of making a name for yourself - which I'm beginning to doubt even crossed your mind - and taking advantage of me, you quietly gave me my fix. With me so far?”

“Anyone would have done it.” You knew this was a lie the moment it passed your lips.

“Mm… I’m afraid not, liebe. I don’t find that kind of loyalty.” You weren’t sure if you should feel flattered or flustered.

“Now, this is where it gets interesting. After I got my addiction under control, I couldn't help but wonder why you were helping me. So selflessly, in fact.”

“I got off on telling you what to do.” You defended.

“No, I understand that part. But you started making small sacrifices.” Swallowing hard, you took a step back.

"Like what?" You asked confused.

"Well, like breaking up with your little toy, for example." Bill hummed in amusement.

“He didn’t deserve to be betrayed. It had nothing to do with you.” Bill smiled at that.

“If it weren't for my mouth on your pussy three times a week, you never would have let the poor guy go. I had a little input into that.” Something inside you twitched with discomfort and pleasure.

“So, as we saw, you neglected your appearance a little. You didn't even realize how much blood I was taking from you. And yet, you continued to give.” Taking a careful breath, you tried to get your thoughts in order.

"You deserved to get what came to me for." It seemed like a lame excuse, despite its veracity.

“And that’s the fun part!” Bill exclaimed. “This whole time you were under the impression that I hated it. I hated making you cum, I hated cumming while you watched, I hated the total attention you gave me. I'm not sure if you've heard, but I have a bit of an ego. And you caressed it until I was weak in the knees. You had so much control in your hands and had the courtesy to worry about my own pleasure. Not very mistressy of you, liebe.”

“If you were so confused about it, then why the hell didn’t you stop?” You retorted. “If you didn’t like me not playing my role, you should have stopped playing yours.”

“Ah, but I liked my role.” He assured, eyes slowly scanning your body. “In fact, if you knew how much I enjoyed it, you would be more worried about disappearing so I could never find you.”

"Are you-?" Your voice died in the middle of your throat.

“Ah, I left my favorite human speechless. Well, let’s see if I can remedy that.” Before you could blink everything went dark.

When you woke up you were in a huge room with incredibly expensive furniture. The place was well lit and looked very modern, you could see some paintings on the walls around it. The tables held a variety of food and drinks. Some, you noticed, were among your favorites.

Your mouth officially dropped open when you noticed it was king size and the sheets were brown. Also expensive, it seems. Above that, your eyes sharpened on the silk ties tied provocatively to the headboard. That was certainly a vision that spoke for itself.

“I will not be your mistress!” You argued, quickly getting up from the bed.

“I prefer the term girlfriend.” He didn't move from his seat once.

This gave you the confidence to try to escape. You ran towards the door but it was locked.

“Nice trick, isn’t it?” Bill mentioned, pride coloring his voice. “I blocked your exit, my dear.”

“Bill let me go.” With a tight frown, you stared at him.

“I will give you anything you want.” He promised. “In the meantime, you might consider this vacation a little more…permanent.”

“You are imprisoning me!” You screamed, anger burning through your veins.

"Keeping." He corrected. “I'm keeping you. Considerable difference in terminology.”

You tried to regain control of your breathing, but your current situation didn't allow for that.

“I like you, liebe.” Bill stated seriously. “You are charming, adventurous, and deceptively thoughtful. More than that, you are trustworthy. And has a sexual appetite that rivals mine.”

“And you couldn’t have told me that without kidnapping me?”

"Keeping." He remembered. “What would you honestly have done if I told you I was pretending to be an addicted because I was more addicted to you? Which sounds as terribly sentimental out loud as it does in my head. Shame. I thought it would translate better.”

You backed away until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Tremblingly, you sat up, palms hitting the sheets beneath you.

“I was kidnapped-.”

“-kept-,” Bill said helpfully.

“-all because I was…nice.”

Bill shrugged. "Opposites attract?"

You lost consciousness right after you finished laughing. Rest assured, you found the situation more grim than hilarious.

Sighing, Bill walked over to your unconscious form. He sat up and gently picked you up so you rested against his chest.

The urge to smile and grimace fought violently within him.

“This could have been worse.” He confessed, looking at you.

He rested his chin on your head. The desire to smile won. He was happy.

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ IN MY DREAMS...

Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is referred to with you/your only. PWP (plot what plot), handjob, cunnilingus. XIAO X READER

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this was supposed to be for tomorrow hahafhfsahjs YES this was inspired by xiao's letter. its been a while since i last wrote something about xiao </3

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | GENSHIN MASTERLIST

Xiao’s dreams of you start with simplicity and indulging in idle moments of life. Moments he always thought were unreachable for him because of the karma he carries on his shoulders.

To saunter along the coast of Yaoguang Shoal as you collected those starconches that captured your attention, both his eyes and mind drifting off to the way you look with the sunset behind your back, casting its afterglow’s hues onto your hair.

He remembers your face with such vivacity, thanks to the longing in his heart. Your voice, your signature perfume, or the aroma of your shampoo—the mirage that you are in his dreams—all of it committed to the smallest detail. It’s like you were there.

The dream keeps moving forward. With intertwining hands, you two make your way towards the abode. He’s looking at you while you chat, smiling at him and taking his other hand in yours. Inside the abode, the chatter fades into silence, and a shift in mood ensues. It’s soft, however. Like how you press a kiss on his lips.

Not only does he recall your face to the simplest detail, but so does your warmth. When you envelop his shoulders with your arms, lean into him and rest your head on his chest. Knowing that you can hear his heartbeats makes them fasten, but he doesn’t move away. He’s capable of maintaining some level of composure, and his hands relax on your hips. His touch is loving like he’s with you: malleable, allowing you to take the lead according to your heart’s whims.

You press a second kiss on his body. This time, on his neck. The underside. It tickles him. Then, you move onto a third one, a fourth one... It stopped tickling and instead stimulated other sorts of reactions in his body.

In the blink of an eye, he finds himself with his back against the mattress, your body looming over his. You were whispering something to him; he couldn’t decipher what it was, but it sounded sweet against his ear. Xiao closes his eyes and lets you continue, his hands obediently waiting by his side.

The longer you stay on his lap and the more you keep canting your hips forward and backwards, the harder it is for him to stay obedient, though. Likewise, the way you suckle and lick on those delicate spots on his neck doesn’t help his case. With a heaving chest, Xiao tries to warn you of that impending pleasure that’s going to burst; much to his dismay, he fails to warn you in time.

Despite the shame he feels, you don’t appear to be bothered by it. You laugh, endeared, and promise there’s nothing wrong and that you’ll relieve him more. Xiao tries to make sense of your words amidst the after waves of his climax, but you clear up what you meant the moment you pull his pants down.

And then…he woke up with a rapid heartbeat. His cheeks, neck, and the tip of his ears were tinted red.

He spent a while in silence, staring off into the starry sky in those couple of seconds.

And then he moved his head to a side—his gaze met your sleeping face. He had fallen asleep on your lap a couple of hours ago. At some point, you dozed off as well after him, he presumed. No wonder the warmth and aroma were so vivid. 

Maybe his fixed gawk woke you up. You blinked a couple of times before mustering up a drowsy smile.

“Mm…” You rubbed your eyelids, shaking off some sleepiness. “You look like you had a nice dream. I’d like to hear about it.”

Despite it being a mere dream, somehow, Xiao felt tender all over. He woke up flustered and didn't know how to arrange his thoughts at first.

“We were...strolling the shore. While holding hands,” He scratched his cheek, avoiding your eyes.

“Aw,” You placed your palm on his forehead with the intention of brushing his bangs but found yourself rather surprised by how sweaty it was. Not that he was drenched in it; it was enough for you to notice it, however. “If you have some time, we can do that tomorrow. What else did you dream about?”

He hummed, thinking.

“You were collecting starconches until you were tired. We made our way home...” Xiao's resolution to seem unaffected by his fantasies was stable enough for his voice to not waver.

You leaned in closer, eager to hear more. “And what else?”

“...That's it.”

Mindlessly, you traced with your fingertip the side of his face down to his jawline as you heard him speak.

“Are you sure that was it?” You couldn't help but stifle a small giggle.

Other details you noticed besides his sweaty forehead were the prominent arousal evident behind his pants.

Xiao looked like he wanted to say something, to which you shut him up with a kiss. Little by little, you felt him relax into you more, pleasured sighs escaping from him on those short instances you would pull away. Those seconds of rest did nothing to cease the fire that burned up in him. The adeptus tangled his hands with your hair to hurry you into needy kisses.

You slid your hand beneath the elastic of his pants to pull them down midway to his thighs and wrap it around his stiff cock. A small sound vibrated within his throat because he held it back, but that didn't deter you from continuing your touches. You swiped your thumb on the tip, smearing it with his pre. You stroked it, feeling the malleable skin harden and grow hotter with your attention. More beads of precum dripped on your hand, resulting in a smoother movement.

“C-Cummin',” The obscene word with which the adeptus have grown familiar, it still caused some bashfulness to express it. “I don't want to get your hand dirty—”

You hurried your pace, the slick sounds coming from down there proving that it wasn't a difficult task to do. Xiao's brows furrowed, and he bit his lip hard when he cummed, spurts of cum landing on your wrist and fingers.

Xiao stared at your complacent smile; his bewilderment grew when he saw you lick your fingers clean.

He sat up with a new resolution. He grabbed your shoulders. “You haven't cum yet. I... I’ll help you with that.”

“Oh, don't worry about it!”

“Not fair. I also want to taste you.”

It was not like he needed to beg for it more; his eagerness to please you was enough. It was Xiao’s turn to push you against the ground, get rid of your clothes, and, without missing a beat, went straight to what he desired.

This wasn’t the first time you shared an intimate night with him, and thus, Xiao had a solid idea of what to do to please you. He spread you open with his fingers, and his tongue delved between your folds, slurping and sucking. It gently thrusted inside, tasting, and swallowing you before his mouth sought your clit, repeating the suction and the licks there. The tremors in your body signaled to him of your impending orgasm, his soft lips and hot tongue stimulated you with more vigor.

When the inescapable happened, Xiao’s awaiting mouth opened to drink you up, licking the remnants of your slick on your thighs.

While you caught your breath, attention lost in the starry sky, Xiao loomed over your form. He was blushing, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself, and with his dick poking at your entrance. Seeing you enjoy yourself that much aroused him again, ready for another round.

And you were, oh, sore and aching—yet you wanted it as much.

[obsidian-wolf-whisperer]

This is most likely the first time Rocket has ever experienced true happiness.

It's the first time he isn't shadowed by the torments of his past. 

He's no longer being hurt or belittled and no one's coming after him.

He faced his past head on and for the first time he has nothing to run from.

He's truly free.

For the first time he feels a genuine sense of self worth.

He doesn't have to prove himself to anyone; he's already done that and he's been accepted.

All he had to do to be valued was be himself.

He finally knows who he is and he's embracing it.

He has found true purpose in life as the leader of a group of former outcasts just like him fighting for the greater good of the galaxy.

He's not just fighting for himself anymore. 

He's not just fighting for those he cares about. 

He's now fighting for a universe he believes is worth protecting.

He's no longer angry at the world.

He's finally letting go of fear and hate and is allowing love into his life.

He's dancing. He's hollering. He's happy.

It's bittersweet yes, because the family he has made for himself, the ones he loves, are going their separate ways, but that's okay because he knows they're not abandoning him, just going in different directions.

He'll be in contact with most of them, and there's hope that the others will find their way back some day, some how, even if they are living different lives now.

They still love him. 

For the first time in a long time he knows he is truly loved.

For the first time he feels worthy of that love.

And he isn't pushing it away anymore.

He isn't alone.

He has made peace with his past, he's embracing the moment, and he's looking forward to his future.

To me, that's the most beautiful thing imaginable. 

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #14

[Mermay Special Part 4 Warning: Yandere, Violence, Mention of Blood/Claws/Getting hurt/Someone else getting mauled and hurt, Chase Scene]

"No. NO!"

Your friend's voice boomed through the room. Strangely, the water didn't stop the sound from ringing out clearly and sharply, your ears feeling like they were exploding. There was little resemblance to the kind and sweet friend you knew. Their body contorted, their eyes bulging, fingers growing rigid, and their fangs snapping at the water before them. They were changing into a monster you only knew from horror movies, but worse was knowing you were the cause.

The queen gasped, just as much in shock as you were, but she regained her composure quickly when your friend charged at her, letting out their anger on her rather than you. She slipped by him, their claws ripping the skin on her arms cleanly like a scalpel, but she didn't deter. She grabbed your body by your arms, yanking you up and forward through the door.

"Swim!" she screamed as she used her body to barricade the door that she had shut closed immediately after exiting. You could see that she struggled as something or someone was thrown into the door repeatedly, trying to break out. "Don't look back! Just swim down the hallway and when you see the portal go right through it! Don't waste time here!"

There was a faint sense of desperation in the way she urged you, and you knew she couldn't hold your friend back much longer. Your head hurt, your body felt unfamiliar, and the screams of your friend told you to surrender, but when the queen gave you one last pleading look, you got yourself together and moved forward, leaving her behind. You could only pray your friend wouldn't do anything to his own mother and that she'd hold them back long enough for you to go.

You swam and swam, slamming into walls as you kept losing control over your own tail, clumsily, stupidly, feeling like a child. "[Name]!" you heard your friend yell behind you, and you jumped in surprise; they sounded so close. It scared you, they scared you. Everything about this world and chase was scary, and all you could do was keep your eyes forward like the queen told you and swim.

Finally, the portal appeared in the room before you, a sense of relief washing over you as you gathered your strength and caught yourself from hitting the walls again, the goal so close. It was almost too good to be true, and when a torrent moved you forward, followed by the sound of a massive body slamming into the corner behind you, you knew you were screwed.

Letting out a pitiful squeak, you picked up the pace, your friend suddenly right behind you. "Stay!" they begged, but it sounded like a demand. "Don't go back there! You're supposed to be here with me! What did that witch tell you?! Oh, I'll kill her if you leave! She'll be dead because of you! Don't go! Please, don't go!"

The chaos of their voice all around you didn't stop you from going forward. They were nuts, completely out of their mind. Nothing in this world could make you stay, and you reached out your hand towards the portal's light when...

Suddenly, you were yanked back.

You screamed as sharp claws dug into you, keeping themselves anchored inside your tail and tearing it apart. This time, you had to look back.

"Stay with me. I love you," your friend begged, bubbles rising from their eyes like tears. They had changed back into their normal self, beautiful, although you knew better now. It was all a facade. You shook your head, throat tight with fear and adrenaline. Their expression changed instantly, darker and more deadly, but your eyes were torn from your friend despite them reaching up, seemingly trying to attack you again.

With a heavy thud, the queen slammed a stone down on your friends head. They gurgled before sinking to the ground. "Go!" the queen yelled, her beautiful face ripped apart by claws, blood mixing into the water all around her.

You didn't make her repeat herself, the portal welcoming you with a waft of wind and the sounds of birds chirping.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You rubbed your palm along the muscle in your thigh, feeling the strange, burning sensation that had recently started acting up. You didn't know why, but sometimes, when you looked into a mirror or took a shower, it appeared. It was pretty annoying, but the doctors told you to just let it come and go as there were no signs as to what caused it.

But ever since your family decided to take a trip to the beach, this sensation had been acting up constantly. At this point, it was making your stomach churn, anxiety flooding your senses for some unknown reason. You tried brushing it off, listening to your mom and sister talk instead, but it was hard to ignore.

"Are mermaids real?" your sister asked, and your mom chuckled, turning around in the passenger seat to wink at you to tell you to keep up the charade. "They are so real. And they capture little kids and keep them locked up underwater so they can eat them."

Your sister squealed before giggling her adorable laugh. What a stupid story, you thought. Mermaids don't exist.

Finally, at the beach, your family set up the towels before running off to get food and dip into the water. But for some reason, you couldn't help but let time pass you by as you stared out into the ocean, strangely captivated by the waves. You jumped, eyes widening when you thought you saw a head pop out far, far beyond where everyone was swimming, sharp eyes fixating on you, but it was gone with the next wave. Your thigh burned, and this time, it hurt so much you could barely keep standing. You considered cooling down in the water, but the pain only intensified.

Your sister ran up to you not long after you took a seat in the sand, wanting to take you swimming with her. You refused, citing that you were hurt and needed to rest.

"But the mermaid told me to bring you to them..." she mumbled, wrecking her little head about what to do now.

"Who?" you asked, and she shot you a bright beam.

"The mermaid! They aren't mean at all like Mom said! They said we could come to their underwater palace with them! I want to, can we? Pleaseeeee!"

As the pain throbbed in your thigh, you watched as your sister jogged back into the water, arms flailing when she was suddenly pulled under. One second she was there, the next she was gone, and in her place, a strangely familiar face lurked out of the water, beautiful, ethereal. But the eyes of the stranger were weird, dark and mysterious. Driven by an unknown feeling that ran a shiver down your spine.

"Your turn." The stranger lifted a hand out of the water, webs between their fingers, inviting you in, and your leg hurt even more.

"I waited long enough for you to return, my spouse."

Was there ever really a choice for you?

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[lara-prisma-avm-ask-blog]

Overreaction - An AvM Fic

[This was done with the full intention of stopping the villainization of the GC in relation to the recent episode!]

The applause began to gradually subside, the audience thanking the incredible show that was put on for them and saying goodbye to the sticks on the stage.

That is, with the exception of one.

A little after the curtains closed as they had initially opened, the four friends got together and dug through the rubble in the center of the stage, pulling out an unconscious Green.

Bringing him back from the stage they sat him down in a seat as they settled in for the tiring day.

Nothing went as planned, but that doesn't mean they didn't have fun. Even Second Coming had fun, and they usually bother with a lot of noise, especially when it's time to sleep.

They talked for a few minutes until Green began to regain consciousness, Blue had placed a bag of ice on his head knowing that it might be hurting. Green opened his eyes looking around to see the others, talking friendly as if nothing had happened.

"Green! You're awake, thank goodness." Blue celebrated by placing a hand on his relieved chest, he knew his friend would be fine but he still worried.

"F-fine?? Today was a disaster!!" Green raised his voice, feeling pain and squeezing the ice bag lightly.

"Green, look on the bright side, everyone loved the show!" Red extended his arms while Yellow removed his bow tie, trying not to be hit by the younger's arms.

"Yeah, a show I didn't plan!!" He crosses his arms frustrated looking to the side.

"Well, we did what we could, we stole the show back from those silverfish and it was actually fun!"

"Fun? FUN??" Green stood up, his tone becoming more serious and loud, "this has nothing to do with fun, everything was supposed to be perfect!! that square rat ruined my show that I worked for MONTHS to give the most perfect performance ever!!" Red shrank into their seat, feeling smaller compared to Green who was raising his voice more and more.

"Green, I know this was important to you, but we had fun, we asked you to join us and you didn't want to!" Blue takes Green by the shoulder asking for his attention.

"And also, one of the things about working on a stick is, in unplanned situations, improvise!" Yellow continues, placing a hand on Red's calming them, "and that's what we did, the silverfish were attacking you and we made a distraction for them to change their focus, and it worked!" Green looks at her in surprise, his frustrated expression changing to a sad one.

"Green..." Second, who had been silent for a while, takes a step forward, "We only accepted this because we wanted to make you happy, but especially because we wanted to have fun with you." They break into a smile, brushing Green's cheek with their thumb.

"Yeah, man. So what if it didn't go as expected? The important thing is to have fun!" Blue strokes Green's back gently, making him even more silent.

Green was so obsessed with perfection that he didn't think much about how his friends felt about everything. They saved him from the silverfish, they saved the show, everyone loved what they did, maybe he should just rest, it was all making his head hurt more and more.

"I... My head hurts..." Blue laughs putting his arm around him. Green felt his eyes watering, upon noticing this Second just hugged him.

"I'm sorry it seemed like we didn't take this seriously." They say with a smile, "But sometimes you don't need to make everything perfect either, no one will judge you for making mistakes." This makes Green look at them, wiping away his tears as he hugs his friend back.

"Sorry for being a pain in the ass..."

"You weren't, you just have to see things on the positive side."

This makes Green smile lightly, Red also hugs him, placing his arms around his neck.

"But seriously, my head hurts, I just want to sleep for now..." the others laugh and start to come out from behind the stage.

"In fact, if you want, I can ask the silverfish to apologize!" Red states with his arms behind his back but Green just waves it off.

"Nha, it doesn't matter." he says in a slight inconsistent tone rolling his eyes, he was still mad at the mob, but at the moment he only thought about one thing, sleep.

In the end, none of them were really to blame, and Green could never resent his dear friends, after all, without them he would never have escaped the silverfish. 

It's not like they were the ones who brought the mob to the stage, they were probably just curious about the music and wanted to participate, like them when they discovered the note blocks for the first time. 

So as much as he still doesn't like the mob, he couldn't blame the little creature for being curious and wanting to have fun, and honestly, what a talented opponent, Green hasn't seen such a talented mob since the music universe, which reminds him.

"Oh damn it! Purple and MT!!" he facepalms, remembering that their friend was watching the whole thing, "I don't know what they thought of the show!!" Blue holds back his laughter, patting Green on the shoulder.

"Okay, MT seems to have just been shocked by the power of the staff, and he probably regrets giving it to us..." Yellow replies, lowering her head in embarrassment. 

Red and Second laugh while Green blushes in embarrassment.

"Green!" Purple's voice echoed from across the room, "Ah, I'm glad you're okay!" They smiled seeing them, MT was right behind him with a worried look.

"You children should be more careful the next time you use the staff, I almost had a heart attack!" he clutches the suit close to his chest.

"Ha, I should have seen what happened months ago-" Red covers Blue's mouth before she can say anything else, looking at MT with a nervous expression.

"Okay, just don't cause the end of the world because of that one thing." He sighs in relief, sliding his hand across his forehead to the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry the show wasn't what you expected." Purple holds Green's hand gently between theirs, Green could only laugh nervously.

"It's ok, at least I tried..." he looks to the side, still visibly upset, "but who knows? Maybe next time it won't be a disaster?" he laughs and Purple smiles.

"That's great, but let me tell you, it was really fun to watch you fight that silverfish! Especially when you did that little dance!" They laugh and Green blushes embarrassed, they didn't expect them to focus on that dance.

"Anyway, I had fun, even if it wasn't perfect." Their smile calmed his anxiety, and looking at the others he could see that indeed his reaction, though justified, was unnecessary.

After saying goodbye and going their separate ways, Green was taken back to their house and threw himself on their couch, Blue sat next to him while Second took a blanket to cover him.

Slowly as the others gathered around him, he fell asleep with his head lying in Blue's lap, smiling knowing that his friends would always be there for him, even when he made mistakes.

[vetitiscripta]

Can you do sfw and nsfw headcanons for btd 2 ren? I love him so much he’s my underrated short king🦊

btd2 ren my beloved. ask and you shall receive anon (i might add more to this later but this is what i have for now)

sfw

this man is the clingiest motherfucker ever. in the beginning, you can't walk from room to room without ren being on your heels. it was a new experience from him and he wanted to know all about you! now, though, his clinginess comes in the form of holding you too tightly when laying with you, tracing his name onto your skin with his finger, and telling you how much he loves you about 20 times a day. it's suffocating to be honest, but you would rather ren be clingy than be mad

speaking of mad, he doesn't get mad at you often. you've learned well enough in your time with him that making his mad was not a fun thing to do. ren may be small but he knows how to fight or to at least knock you down enough to remind you whose really in charge. but there's not really a need for that nowadays since you are so well behaved! he makes comments all the time of you two being the ideal relationship (you find yourself agreeing with him sometimes. maybe he's not so bad after all)

loves taking baths with you. it's probably the thing he looks forward to the most. there's just something so intimate about it that he loves so much. maybe it's the scented soaps and shampoos going to his head or the heat of the water. maybe its the way you fit so nicely against him and he gets to hold you close (there's not enough room, don't look at him like that!). sometimes he can convince you to let him wash your hair and the way you look at him as he's running his fingers through your hair is enough to make him die from happiness

50/50 on being the big spoon or little spoon. there are days where he wants nothing more than to hold you, face buried in your neck as his tail lays over you like a blanket. but there are also days where he wants to be held himself. those tend to be the days where everything floods back to him, the memories of when he was in your shoes. sometimes he just needs a reminder that he's okay now, that he's better now ("better")

he likes to win your affection with little things here and there. small things he picks up for you while out, letting you choose what anime to watch that night, but his go to is to cook for you. we can't deny that ren is an amazing cook and he knows it. you cook as well, but ren tends to cook most nights. he likes cooking and he loves it when you help him. but if he's trying to woo you (or to maybe erase some anger you feel towards him) he'll whip up your favorite meal and maybe even light a few candles

JEALOUS OF LITERALLY ANYTHING! showing more attention to the plant he got you last week? it mysteriously dies a few days later (he poured glass cleaner into its pot). mentioned liking a specific actor/actress from a show? the tv has parental locks the next day to restrict that show. all your attention belong to him and should be on him! nothing else! (sometimes you find it cute how jealous he gets and will go out of your way to make him jealous, but don't tell him that)

he's still trying to find his place in this entire thing. strade's gone now, but ren can't deny that he feels like he's missing something. like there's a gaping hole in his chest that's longing to be filled. because of this, he's not afraid to experiment on you. you wake up in the basement more than you would like, ren looming over you with a smile on his face but an almost empty look in his eyes. he's thinking, calculating what he'll do. the sessions always end with tears streaming down your face and ren understanding a little better where he fits in

nsfw (under the cut)

horny 24/7. cannot keep his hands to himself. you'll be watching tv together and then ren's hand is on your thigh- ok normal enough. and then it starts moving slowly upwards and your breath hitches when his hand finds the waistband of your pants. he teases you first, messing with the band and drawstrings, nails grazing the skin just below the band. he's not even looking at you, or at least you don't notice the sneaky glances he throws your way before turning back to the tv. but that doesn't last long as he can't take it anymore himself and throws himself at you right there on the couch

ren's big on eye contact. he wants you to watch him as he goes down on you. if you look away or close your eyes, his nails dig into your thighs hard enough for little beads of red to form. your attention belongs on him at all times, especially when sharing an intimate act. he expects you to keep eye contact when you go down on him as well. he doesn't care if his cock is in your throat and you're trying not to gag. he'll pull your hair hard enough for tears to form in your eyes

likes to roleplay every so often. his favorites are anime specific ones and maid/master. he loves it when you dress up for him, especially if it's in these big, frilly dresses or skirts (doesn't matter your gender, he loves to see it). he likes having you pretend to do something, only for him to come up behind you, sneak his hands under your skirts and mess with you. likes taking your attention away from your task and putting it on him

ren hates having to punish you but he loves the act of it. when he punishes you, he gets to do whatever he wants! punishments tend to be in the basement and he tends to get just a little heated every so often with them. your tear streaked face just does something to him and most of the time punishments end with his cock either in your mouth or with him fucking you

doesn't shut up while having sex. if he's not whimpering then he's moaning in your ear. if he's not moaning then he's talking to you, telling you how good you are, how great you feel. if he's not talking than he's whimpering