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jo-com · 4 months

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Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 Smut. Thank you so much ❤️

₊˚⊹♡ ➛ le mien

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader

Summary: Part 2 of Mine

Genre: DARK fic.

Word: 2.03k words

TW: baby trapping, p and c penetration, possessiveness, jealousy, branding, manipulation, obsessive behavior, bit angsty, corruption, brainwashing, wrap it before you tap it folks and overall messed up shit. This is not proofread and there are some grammatical error also google translated french. if uncomfortable minors do not interact!!

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…

Despite all the love you share on social media, nothing can compare to the real truth that exists beyond the internet.

People don't see the things he does behind closed doors—all those emotional abuse, obsessive behavior, and possessiveness. Never, even once, do people know that it's happening between the two of you.

All they know is the sweet words you guys share in each other's posts and the way you act whenever there are people around you two—all sweet and loving like one of those fairy tale romances you read. But behind all that, they don't see how hurt you are mentally. It was happening constantly, and you were so used to it that you became numb and just succumbed to the growing pain you feel inside.

To the point where you act like his puppet—doing everything that pleases him, and acting the way he wants you to.

You never once complained, thinking that it was just how love goes.

You were a fool. A fool blinded by "love".

...

"Hey y/n/n, are you alright? Me and mom have been worried about you; you haven't been going to our usual family gathering." your sister asked over the phone.

It was true; you haven't been going to those gatherings for a while now, only because Charles said, "It's not safe to go outside," and of course, like the sweet girlfriend doll you were, you followed his words.

You stared blankly, your mind wandering off. You tend to get lost in thoughts nowadays, and you're not sure why. Maybe it's from the stress you've been feeling, but you just brushed it off like it was nothing.

"Yeah, I am good. I've just been busy lately, you know? Keeping the house safe and everything," you chuckled dryly.

"You know I can tell when there's something wrong, right? So just tell me."

Before you could answer, Charles walked into the room. With one hand holding Leo, he was snuggled up nice and cozy in his embrace. His eyes roamed around the room searching for you; his gaze then fell prey on your meek figure—you sat there holding the phone in one hand while the other rested on the softly fabricated couch. You looked angelic, as if untouched by any form of evil.

Then again, Charles wasn't just any form of evil; he was the reincarnation of the devil himself, and he wanted nothing more than to corrupt your innocence.

With a soft smile, Charles walked to where you sat, sitting beside you and settling leo down on his lap.

"Who are you talking to poupée (doll)?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, just my sister; we were just catching up on things." You muttered, your voice quivering slightly; you don't know whether you were scared or just have some sore throat that made your voice crack.

Charles looked at you in disbelief, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and simply turned his attention back at Leo. "Hang up the phone," he said bluntly, not even sparing you a glance.

"But baby, we were just talking." You tried to argue with him, telling him that you just wanted to chat with your sister, but as usual, he blocked your words of plea and glared at you—he always does that, looking at you as if he were judging your whole soul.

His eyes have always been your weakness; they both scare and pleasure you at the same time. Charles knows that, and he uses it to his advantage every time.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy; you could feel it weighing down and crushing your spirit.

Sighing defeatedly, you had no choice but to end the call with your sister and not further complicate things.

"Hey, uhm, sis, I'll just call you back, okay? Something just came up."

You didn't even let your sister respond before hanging up the call. Charles hummed contentedly and patted the seat next to him. At that very moment, you felt angry with him, but you knew that you couldn't do anything about it, so you sucked it up and sat beside him. Leaning close to his embrace.

"Bonne fille, ma chérie (good girl, my darling)," he mumbbled softly, kissing the roof of your head.

...

Charles gripped your waist tightly, his jaws clenched, and hands balled up to a fist. He half-ass smiled at the man, trying to compose himself—fighting back the urges to beat the shit out of the guy in front of them.

He saw the way he looked at you; his eyes scanned each and every part of your body like you were some kind of art on display. fucking disgusting.

You, on the other hand, held on to him, almost ripping the fabric of his clothes with your tight grip. You paid no mind to the guy he was talking to and just stared at the bustling room; in there, people were having fun, dancing, and drinking with others.

At that moment, you didn't care about Charles or who he was conversing with; all you wanted was to spring free from his embrace and just party wild with others. Was that too much to ask for?

For him, it was. If it was legal, he wanted nothing more than to lock you up and live the rest of your lives together. So, having that idea was just wishful thinking—it never hurts to dream, though.

"I'll see you around, yeah?" The man asked, earning a subtle nod from Charles as an acknowledgment.

"Quel putain de cinglé (what a fucking weirdo)," he mumbled under his breath, his accent making the words sound more spiteful and venomous.

You didn't hear him say that. You were too busy to admire people's enjoyment and bask in the laughter and smiles that surround you. How could people be as care free like that? The ache on your heart only grows fonder. Oh, how you wish you could do the same.

With your head up in the clouds, you didn't seem to notice the angry monegasque that stood beside you, cursing you in any language he knew. The next thing you felt was a harsh sting that rested on your jaw.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I've been trying to talk to you! What are you even looking at? Are you cheating on me, Chienne (Bitch)?" he yelled, not even caring anymore if people heard him.

Your breath hitches, eyes widening, and heart racing fast.

His hands were now on your jaws, gripping them with sheer strength. You didn't know what was going on or why this was happening to you. You were always so nice and never did anything to cause harm, so why?

All those questions in your mind made your vision go blurry and your head spin, causing you to black out on the spot.

...

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and only bits of memories of what happened that night. "Ouch," you winced, massaging your head to try and ease the pain.

As if on cue, Charles walked in with medicine on his left hand and a glass of water on the right.

His face lit up, seeing that you were now awake. He softly smiled and walked towards your shared bed. The matress dipped down as he sat next to your sitting body.

"Are you feeling better, mon amour?" he asked. His hand was about to stroke your cheeks, but out of reflex, your body flinched at his sudden movement.

That made Charles frown. You know how bipolar his mood has been; that's why you've been extra careful not to ruin it. You were expecting him to be mad, but what happened was the opposite. He only sighed deeply and lowered his head.

"I am sorry, Mon cœur." Your being shocked was an understatement; in fact, you were flabergasted at his words. You never knew that hearing him say that would make you want to tear up.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I know you didn't mean for it to happen," you assured him, and rubbed circles around his arm.

And just like that, Charles once again got you wrapped around his finger. You were way too easy to convince and so naive that you'd fall for anything he said.

He slowly lift up his head and gave you a light smile.

You then melted at his expression, it was silly of you to think that a face like that could ever harm you. he would never do that.

...

"Fuck, Charlie, put it in already, please," you begged, your eyes watering from the overstimulation. His hands gripped your waist tighter—muscles flexing in the process.

"You're so needy for my cock, mon amour," he breathes out.

The two of you have been at it for half an hour now, both out of breath and with marks made by one another. Your bodies were sticky with each other's bodily fluids, but you guys paid no mind to that. Only focusing on reaching the pleasure you both wanted so badly.

Without wasting a second, Charles huridly inserted his dick into your aching core. Your eyes widened from the sudden sensation between your thighs; you could feel how he was stretching you, and the need for him to satisfy you only increased.

"Move, please" you said, your voice quivering and hands scratching his back to let out some of the pain.

Your legs instantly rested on his lower hip, wanting to keep him as close to you as possible. You don't know why you're acting like that, but you suddenly got the urge to mount him and fuck him till dawn.

"Shit baby, you're always so tight," he chuckled, his left hand settled in the headboard while his right hand played with the nub of your tits.

His hips clashed with yours, making the two of you a moaning mess. Charles then dove down to your breast and licked it, biting and teasing them. He made sure to leave plenty of marks.

"Oh god, i..i am about to come," you gasped, your toes curling from the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

"Just come for me, baby," he said, continuously pounding into you, your flesh crashing at each other and making a loud, smacking sound.

His hand then snaked up to hold onto your ankles, lifting it up. Shifting his dick into a deeper position.

With the new found position, your vision started to go blur; now only seeing nothing but stars. Your mind then turns hazy, and hands gripping tightly on the duvet sheet that scattered on the bed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" was the only thing you said before collapsing on the matress, your body convulsing with pleasure as your juices slowly fall down your flush tighs.

"Damn, all that for me, ma chérie?" Charles laughed, licking his lower lip at how ravishing you look; fucked out and cockdumb for him.

He continued to rut his hips to your overstimulated cunt. "Fuck, Je veux mettre un bébé en toi (i want to put a baby inside you)" he mumbled, not minding your state and carried on fucking you into an oblivion.

"I'ma fill you with my cum, make you a mama and the fill you up again....fuck" he rambled, his hips never stoping, not until he reach his high.

And after a few more thrust, he finally came inside of you— his eyes rolling in the back of his head with satisfaction. He continued to rut into you; not wanting to spill his cum and then coating your walls with his white seed.

You were sure to get pregnant by that and after that, you two are going to be tied forever, just like he planned.

...

yeah that was pure filth, hope you guys like it though! My requests are always open.

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heartlilith · 10 months

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Difficult Placements in the Natal Chart

*Difficult: defined as "not easy; needing effort or skill to do or to understand"

I'm going to be discussing what placements I believe are more difficult to have in a natal chart. I just want to emphasize that this is my opinion (Tamra Judge voice) . Let's remember that all placements have their pros and cons, you are not defined by a few unfavorable placements. Of course, aspects and orbs matter... Chiron with 3 squares to your personal planets will be more difficult to handle than if you had Chiron trine Sun and Venus, for example.

One last thing: Difficult placements can be the ones with the most value. They teach you things, make you stronger, and they can make you an inspiration to people dealing with similar situations. Difficult placements have their positives too, which we will discuss.

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Sun conjunct Chiron: These natives go through a lot of pain, physically and emotionally. They go through many trials and have to learn how to heal again and again. I feel like the universe puts them through a lot so that one day they can help others, which is nice but damn. This aspect can easily make someone slip into addiction, depression, and bitterness if the energy isn't channeled correctly. These people are prone to psychic attacks that lead to chronic illness, specifically migraines.

Positives: Can become a healer, can help other people through their problems, can become an inspiration, selfless character.

Sun square/opposite Neptune: These natives struggle when it comes to their fragile ego. They are deeply sensitive and feel things intensely. They absorb energies meaning if they're around negative people, they themselves will become negative as well. It's so important for these people to be surrounded by positive and successful individuals. Sun square/opposite Neptune is also easily manipulated and taken advantage of since they tend to see the world through rose-colored glasses. Throughout life, this placement can make an individual feel unworthy and inferior which can lead to a victim mentality that's hard to break. Watch out for escapist behavior because these people are prone to addiction.

Positives: These people are very psychic and should work on their spiritual abilities. Becoming religious or spiritual can be very beneficial for them. They have the most impressive imagination and are super creative.

Capricorn Moon: I've noticed that people with Capricorn as their moon sign have difficulties with being vulnerable and asking for help. They are the people that hold their family and friends together - they are the strong one. Oftentimes, they become responsible too early in life, which probably cut their childhood short if they had one at all. Their sense of responsibility is their strength but its also a weakness; they don't want to be thought of as "weak" or "needy" so they hold their feelings in. Like Pisces, when their emotions come on strong they need an escape, Capricorns rely on work and their sense of duty. They are prone to becoming workaholics and will ignore painful situations by working all the time.

Positives: Likely to become successful career-wise, very driven and ambitious, people trust them, they make great friends because you can rely on these people.

Aquarius Moon: Similar to Capricorn, Aquarius Moons struggle with their emotions and how to express them. Their emotions might not even be felt in some cases. They look at things intellectually and in a detached way; they think "Should I be sad about this?" or "Am I supposed to be angry?". Growing up, they probably didn't have someone that they could emotionally confide in or even worse, they could've been punished for showing their emotions. I've noticed a lot of Aquarius Moons have a detached sense of family, they could've been adopted or they just feel "different", they could even look at themselves as the black sheep.

Positives: Can come up with creative solutions to problems, a great friend, nonjudgemental and open minded when it comes to others and their life experiences.

Moon square Pluto: This placement could've been the victim of abuse, especially from their mother. Their mothers could have struggled with mental illness and unfortunately these natives could've been the scapegoat and received the backend. Their mothers could be careless one second and the next they could become obsessive; the obsessiveness usually shows when the native leaves home and creates space between them. This leads to distrust in people, women especially. Moon square Pluto people cling onto any sense of control because they grew up in utter chaos. Unfortunately, these people can deem self destructiveness as "normal" since it was what they knew throughout their whole childhood.

Positives: If these people conquer the negative traits brought on by this aspect, they could become great psychiatrists or therapists. These people are devoted and loyal.

Moon square Saturn: This placement could've struggled with feeling unsafe in childhood; like they couldn't count on their parents. Their mothers were less affectionate than normal and they didn't receive the comfort that they needed, which leads them to being uncomfortable with affection in adulthood. They probably went through some tough changes in childhood which is why they loathe change as an adult. This placement could've felt like they had to parent their parent, specifically their mother. And their mothers could've vented to them about problems that they had no business hearing, cutting their childhood short. Their mothers could go to them for advice a lot of times. They could've felt like a burden growing up, usually an emotional burden but more likely a financial burden.

Positives: Strives to become successful, these people are independent and self sufficient.

Virgo Venus: Virgo Venus isn't too bad but can make a native struggle with self esteem issues. I put this on my list because these people attract lovers that need fixing. Venus in Virgo love to fix people and make them "better". The people they're trying to fix could be toxic and destructive; the "bad boys/girls". But having their partner in focus and ignoring their own needs makes them resentful after awhile. I've noticed this placement attracts creeps and stalkers as well because they have a vibe of innocence and purity. In love, they can grow to be very demanding and make their partners feel inadequate in the process. They also get the ick quite easily, meaning its easy to turn them off.

Positives: Is reliable in love, a lady in the streets freak in the sheets type, definitely someone you want to bring home to your family, will take care of you.

Venus in the 8th house: Venus in the 8th house natives tend to be possessive and jealous in love. It's not that they view their partners as property (they can but this placement alone doesn't indicate that imo), they are just extremely loyal and expect their partner to be as well. From my experience, Venus in the 8th house people are ready to give it all up for someone they love. They want to merge and become one with their partner. Their intensity comes from a good place but once a relationships ends, it can be very very painful for them. Love and relationships trigger transformations for these people and sometimes triggers transformations in their partners. They come out of relationships a stronger and better version of themselves but this is usually achieved through heartache. This placement also has a real fear of abandonment and will stay in toxic relationships for this reason.

Positives: Loyal and devoted in love, is a ride or die person. They are very alluring and magnetic. Not easily forgotten.

Venus in the 12th house: I believe these natives are too good for the world. I say this because, like 8th house Venus, they are ready to give it all up for love. Venus in the 12th house is self sacrificial to a fault, oftentimes neglecting themselves in relationships. Love can bring subconscious pain to the forefront, attracting lovers that make them face hidden problems they hold within themselves. Venus being in the house of the hidden, it's not uncommon for these individuals to be the "other woman/man" or be in secret relationships for whatever reason. They can be easily manipulated and taken advantage of since they're hopeless romantics. This can lead to them having to regulate how much love they have for someone; they'll hold back their feelings and needs in fear of being naive and walked on.

Positives: They love people genuinely and whole heartedly, they see the best in their partners, they form deep connections in love.

Venus square/opposite Saturn: These natives may have grown up in an environment that lacked physical affection. This creates a person that is uncomfortable in love and becomes very regulated with how they express their emotions. They may be inherently insecure when they're young which creates doubt around being loved; they're prone to thoughts like "why would anyone love me?" which then creates trust issues. These people also struggle with self-love, they have feelings of inadequacy and compare themselves to others a lot. Since they have low self esteem, they often attract partners that treat them badly and the worst part is they think they deserve it. These people aren't fans of PDA or physical touch and often express love through gift giving or acts of service.

Positives: Self sufficient, usually has a "glow up" later in life, once this placement is conquered (could be the second half of life) they are unstoppable and have so much love for themselves.

Mars in 4th, 8th, 12th house: Mars doesn't feel very comfortable in water houses, this is especially true if the native has a lot of squares and oppositions to their Mars or water house lord. Mars ignites the emotional watery nature of the houses which can lead to sudden outbursts. Mars in the 4th house natives could have dealt with a prominent mother who dominated the household (4th house). This could indicate that a father figure was absent or estranged. Either that, or his role was weak compared to the mothers. Mars in the 4th house could also signify an aggressive mother and hostile home environment. Mars in the 8th house natives experience extreme emotions a lot of the time, this can include anger, obsession, and jealousy. Since Mars is in the 8th house of transformations, you can expect these people to go through many many painful changes in their life because Mars here speeds things up. These natives are prone to accidents involving vehicles, tools, gym equipment, etc. so watch out for transits! Mars in the 12th house could suppress their martian traits; sexuality, motivation and anger... or it could be the opposite, they could become addicted to sex and have a wicked temper, depending on the sign and aspects. Trauma related to sexuality and the inability to stick up for oneself could be prevalent here as well, or they could be downright violent towards others. These people can either lack motivation or become extremely restless. They also probably have crazy vivid dreams and aggressive hidden enemies.

Side Note: Mars in water houses can either be horrible or not so bad, it really depends on the rest of the chart. I included this because the negatives can be extreme.

Mars square/opposite Pluto: These natives usually had a childhood filled with violence and witnessed a lot of strong emotional outbursts. This makes the native think that reacting aggressively or even violently is normal. They could've been abused by their peers, siblings or parents. As they grow up, physical violence, fights, and anger issues could arise. They can get offended really easily and people just assume they're picking fights. Has a lot of physical energy that can manifest as aggression.

Positives: If they channel their energy correctly, they could become talented athletes. Has enough energy to meet their goals and then some.

Saturn in the 1st house: These people have had it hard since childhood. These natives struggle to be comfortable within themselves due to being surrounded by critical people and even being bullied growing up. The judgmental voices they grew up listening to becomes the voice within. They could struggle with body dysmorphia and have deep rooted insecurities. They are confused within themselves and their insecurity could make them miss a lot of great opportunities.

Positives: These people often have a deep sense of responsibility and can be very successful in their career, depending on the rest of the chart.

Saturn in the 7th house: Saturn, the planet of restriction and blockages, sitting on the 7th house of partnerships can make a native go through a lot of trial and error when it comes to one on one relationships. These people could be shy and fear intimacy due to their self esteem especially when they're young. Since Saturn is very karmic in nature, these people could attract toxic relationships or partners that don't fit well with them in order to learn necessary lessons. These people should be careful of going into business with people and also should be careful of divorce settlements (sign that prenup!)

Positives: After Saturn return, these natives will finally meet an adequate partner and since the universe put them through trial and error, they'll be ready for it. Has meaningful life long friendships.

Chiron opposite ASC/Chiron in the 7th house: These peoples' lessons come in the form of lovers. Betrayal, deceit, heartbreak, and infidelity can make their way into these natives lives. It doesn't have to be those themes although it can be. Depending on the sign of your 7th house, those are the themes that'll teach you the lessons and open up old wounds. For example: Leo in the 7th house (Aquarius rising) you may attract and deal with partners who, worst case scenario, are selfish, egotistical, and want everything to revolve around them. This could trigger your childhood in which your parents fought with each other and forgot about you in the process. Another example is Aries descendent (Libra rising) you may deal with partners who are aggressive, dominating, and maybe even violent. This could trigger old wounds from childhood: maybe you lived in a home where domestic violence was prevalent. You get the idea.

Positives: You're not doomed in love by the way, it's just 7th house signs and their themes that will show up throughout your life. The examples I used were pretty extreme to get the point across. The positive here is that most of the time, the themes are much more discreet. For the 7th house Chiron in Leo example I used, it could be that your partner is self centered and you recognize and treat this. Could be an easy lesson learned (well it better be because if not it's gonna keep showing up).

Chiron in the 11th house: Chiron in the 11th house is a placement I personally have using Placidus. These natives never feel like they fit in, they feel like they're looked at as the outcast, like they don't belong. This is usually the consequences of being bullied as a child and made to feel less than. These people could go through a hard time in life where they have no friends and feel like they have no one to turn to. Loneliness could be a prominent theme in their lives especially when they're young. Chiron in the 11th house would rather have one on one connections than be part of a friend group.

Positives: Could be an advocate for people sharing similar experiences, knows how to be a good friend, values friendships and knows how to be alone.

Chiron conjunct Pluto: I have this one! I've noticed that certain painful experiences; death, heartache, betrayal, rejection affect me SO much. Growing up my mom would just brush these things off and say that they're a part of life. But to me, these things would happen and I would grow to fear them immensely. For example; my grandmother who I was super close to passed away when I was 17 and ever since then I've been terrified of my parents dying. Painful experiences really change people with this aspect, for better or for worse.

Positives: These people are forced to confront their deepest fears which in turn makes them stronger. They have the power to transform themselves after traumatic events.

Lilith in the 1st house: Lilith is the exact opposite of what "women should be" which rubs people, men specifically, the wrong way. It also rubs older generations the wrong way or whoever believes in traditional gender roles. Here in the 1st house, these natives embody Lilith which, you guessed it, rubs people the wrong way. They usually have trauma related to males trying to put them down or put them in their place, even as a child. Growing up, adult women could talk about them negatively as well. Everywhere they go, there's people that look at them sideways; they're either disgusted or intrigued. They often experience people hating them for "no reason". The real reason for this reaction is because they make people feel threatened just by being. They were also sexualized from a young age and could've had older people, mostly men, commenting on their bodies.

Positives: Extremely magnetic and alluring, blessed with beauty, intense aura and presence, always gets what they want.

Lilith in the 10th house: Similar to Lilith in the 1st house, these natives have a tendency to set people off just by being themselves. This creates a lot of disturbance in the workplace; people either love them or hate them but either way their reaction to them is extreme. Male authority can either sexualize them or belittle them making the workplace uncomfortable. Lilith being Lilith here, they may use this power to their advantage and climb the ranks so to speak. Rumors about them swirl around the workplace because people are just obsessed.

Positives: Strong people, very attractive, can use their good looks to their advantage, will grow to be a boss.

18° in Personal Planets/1st house/6th house/8th house: 18° is the shadow side of Virgo. Having this degree could indicate serious illness, tragedy, and critical misfortunes playing a role in your life. This doesn't have to be the native themselves experiencing these things, but it will affect them whether that be through family, a partner, friendships, etc.

Positives: I feel like this could be true but not always so if you have this degree anywhere you're most likely safe. But then again you might not be. Good luck. :)

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I'm definitely forgetting a bajillion placements but it's all so negative so I'm going to end here. I'm not trying to be negative I'm just shining a light on certain placements because they're fucking hard to deal with!!!

To the people that say no placement is bad or negative: how does it feel to have rainbows and sunshine shooting out of your fucking ass?! Be forreal.

Life is hard, we all know that. How could we appreciate the fortunes if we didn't have misfortunes? For all the negative there will be positive too. Here's to all of us and our shitty fucking placements 🎉

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moondirti · 3 months

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anal on the beach w/ gaz. a spiritual continuation of that one cbf! dry humping blurb i wrote but can be read separately

kinda dubcon. anal (obviously). manipulation. semi-public sex (no one catches you). gn! reader

he texts you that he’s got an extra ticket to fiji. the message is brief, spontaneous like he tends to be. pack your bags. eta 1420. you planned on rotting home all weekend, already in your pyjamas and hair care, looking every bit a wreck as you feel. it isn’t exactly the opportune time for him to come by; though you know mentioning it won’t do anything to change the fact that he will.

frankly, the whole thing reeks of that kyle-specific class of manoeuvring you’ve come to know in recent. catching you off guard with something you can’t say no to, and using it to push you past what you’re comfortable with. you’re tempted to refuse. it’s too short a notice. pick someone else. but a week long beach trip sounds nice, actually. work has been killing you. your personal life’s a mess. every date you’ve managed to snag in the past month has ghosted you. and to top it all off, you miss your best friend – his odd quirks and all.

so your body’s way of protesting is to slip off the couch, refocusing on the effort it takes to haul your luggage out of storage rather than your several woes. by the time kyle comes by, you’re in a sweatsuit and sneakers, bag stuffed with all the swimsuits you’ve owned since high school; you doubt you’ll have time to wash one between swims.

and it’s nice. you sit next to one another on the plane, syncing your movies by counting down to three. yours is always a few seconds behind, but he waits for your reactions before delving into a spiel about how realistic it is to drive a knife into someone’s throat with just your teeth, à la dev patel. you listen, swinging off every word he says into your own conversations, and it goes that way until the old lady two rows back shushes you. you, specifically, seeing as kyle charmed her into deference when he helped her lift her bags in the overhead compartments. always so considerate.

still, you’re concerned about falling asleep next to him, lest you wake to find a hand kneading your inner thigh.

nothing weird happens, though. you touch down in fiji and check into a lagoon resort (we managed to find you that king room, mr. garrick – the receptionist adds with a smile, eclipsing the weary way you regard sharing one bed. but you’ve had your fair share of cramped family vacations, and are well-versed in the subtle art of pillow walls to keep his side and yours separate.) that first night, he gives you an hour to dress up for dinner reservations while he fetches snacks for the room. make it pretty, yeah? we’re meeting a few distant cousins f’mine. i told them we’re dating to keep the work questions off my back.

nothing weird happens. until—

you take a boat out to Fulaga after citing it as one of the least populous islands. with wisps of white sand, like baker’s flour beneath your feet, and limestone islets across electric blue waters, it’s hard to see why.

no matter to either of you. you lay your towel on flat patch of sand, smothering yourself in sunscreen to play a game of chicken and waves. a vain endeavour, of course. he’s always willing swim out further than you, diving under quivering waters to arch amongst sea turtles and ulavi.

eventually, you grow bored of watching him from the shore, ambling back to your set-up to make use of the oils you bought for an exorbitant price. they lacquer over your skin, the places you can reach, to reflect the light overhead. you recall a quote you read in uni as you slather – something about people broiling themselves as though they were nothing but cuts of meat – and falter for just a moment. it had seemed crude at the time, particularly in the context in which it read, but as you prep yourself for the sun, you can’t help but feel exposed. vulnerable. like predatory eyes are tuned in all around you, peeking from the foliage, the waves, and honed on your slippery flesh.

you tell yourself you’re being silly, and spread yourself back on your towel. the heat licks away at your worries, making good work of laving the salty stress off your neck. you measure time in how long it takes for the sand to flake off your feet, drying as the rest of you does.

when the soft stretch of your stomach starts to burn, you turn yourself over and bury your cheek into the fibres cradling you. sun-drunk, chafed, bruised a little from the choppy waters, you welcome sleep when it inches on your conscious.

“and what are you doing exactly?” kyle huffs, encroaching on your sanctuary. you can’t see him, though you can almost hear the water vaporising off his dark skin. sizzling. the heat sinks into your side once he flops down onto his own towel.

“sunbathing.” you mumble, reluctant to give more than a words response lest it shakes you out of languor.

“the water’s great. you’re missing out.”

“mm. later.”

“and what am i supposed to do?” he all but whines, tugging at the complicated strings that tie your bottoms up on your hips. it doesn’t feel as suggestive as it might be. all you can manage, in the wake of your scoured unease, is annoyance.

“read. dig. sleep.”

he doesn’t take to your advice, shuffling until his knee presses into your arm. “you missed a spot on your back.”

“get it, then.”

“where’s the lube?”

your head snaps up, eyes narrowed both to adjust to the brightness and in admonishment. “oil.”

“same difference.” his grin is wicked, white and impossible to upbraid. rolling your eyes, you settle back down, face turned the other way around to keep an eye on him.

“in my bag.”

he shuffles through your stuff until he comes up with the hot pink bottle, making no stop for confirmation before he squirts the contents over his hands. they feel every bit as big as they look when they press into your back, right below your nape. rough, barnacled with callouses, but softened a bit by the ointment so it doesn’t hurt when his thumbs run circles around your shoulder blades. you sound an appreciative moan.

“say, if you’re short on something to do, y’can always massage me.”

“yeah, yeah. doubt you’ll return the favour.”

“i would... later.”

he laughs. “whatever. isn’t what i want, anyway.”

“and what do you want?” you ask. not because you’re curious – but so long as entertaining him keeps his efforts on your sore muscles, you’ll keep at it.

“oh, y’know.” kyle hums. ambiguous. you don’t know, not really. not until one caress strays lower than it should, conforming to the rounded shape of your ass. your cheeks clench with the sudden touch. he takes it as confirmation that you must want the same thing, too. “these bottoms aren’t leaving much to the imagination, mate.”

“th-they’re old.”

“this pert thing is practically eating them. can’t see fabric anymore.” he squeezes the fat there, shaking it in a vice grip that doesn’t so much as allow you to sit up, to knock his assault off. “want me to look for it?”

“kyle–”

“kyle.” he mocks, snickering. your hesitation does nothing to dissuade him. instead, he rocks up to straddle your legs, hands moving away from your back to settle below the curve of your ass. you don’t know what’s hotter – the damp, sun-bleached sand cushioning you, or the way he spreads either cheek apart, groaning when your swim-suit slips to expose the tight rim under it. “fuck. you been hiding this from me?”

“i- i don’t… please don’t be w-weird about this.”

“dunno what you mean by that.” he says, then promptly proceeds to be weird about it as his knuckle grazes your hole. you’re stiff, printing an indelible mark on beach. “never had it touched before?”

“no. i’m not a freak.”

“ouch, darl.” but he’s already spurting a hefty amount of oil onto you, working it in with a thick thumb. effectively makes good on his stupid name for it; lubes you up, nice and slick, so the only pain that arises at his intrusion is the virgin stretch. “promise it feels good.”

and you hate to admit it, but it does. once you get over the foreign sensation of his finger pistoning where you’ve never been fucked before, it stirs a tumultuous heat in your belly. part of it, you think, isn’t so much the physical sensation as it is the taboo of it all. despite the beach being virtually empty, void of any life but hermit crabs and the two debauched humans at its centre, there’s a delicious thrill that curls with the risk of being caught. not only being conventionally raunchy, but having your ass gaped by your best friend. what a sight you must make, pinned to the ground, having your sense pared off you in slow, painstaking layers.

one finger becomes two, and two soon turns to three.

the sound is so lewd, borderline disgusting when set against the natural ambience. you squelch and suck around him, lube smacking between your nates. and you lament it in slow, drawn-out breaths. embarrassed, wailing, soughing with the briny wind. kyle’s determined to get you ready for something much bigger, it seems, because four digits cram into your hole and scissor apart.

“is that re- really necessary?” you pick your sand- dusted face off the towel to huff into the thick air.

you feel him jostle atop your legs. shrugging, likely, in that deferent way he does when he realises acquiescence will better serve his purpose.

“whatever you want, mate.” there’s the sound of wet fabric scratching against itself, his trunks shucked down to rest mid-thigh. “i was getting impatient, anyway.”

if the excitement in his tone isn’t enough of a forewarning, he soon makes you regret saying anything at all when he notches his cock against you. it’s fat even at the end, the head too hefty to fit between your spread cheeks. it slips as it searches for purchase, rubbing against the excess lube he pours for aid, before pushing in. not in one fell swoop, but with five short, strong thrusts to finally anchor into your asshole.

you squeal, grasping behind you, onto his wrists for stability. you feel capsized, heeled over, thrown off kilter. shells and sparkling horizons dot the backs of your eyelids, liquid pleasure coursing through your veins. nothing about it is romantic, momentous like firsts should be. rather, you liken it to soap scum. spume. salt crusted hair. natural conclusions to things you overlook.

“s’fuckin’ tight, soft. can’t breath when you squee-eeze me like th-that. loosen up… up, mate.”

“k-kyle. fuck. ah! i c-can’t, you’re so… yersobig.”

“tried, didn’t i? b’you wanted to complain. next time i’ll make you t-take it dry… teach you how to count your, your blessings.”

and that turn of phrase – next time – is what sticks as he thrusts into you. not the implication that it’ll be painful, or that he intends to punish you for whatever it is you did wrong – but that this isn’t the last incident of its kind.

you had excused his homecoming – that first time he rushed you with a hug and came in his pants – as incidental, weeks of pent up energy. you try to excuse this – this, taking your ass on a vacation he probably booked precisely for the two of you – even while it unfolds, searching for justification in the distance between here and home.

but you’re not stupid. what becomes increasingly clear, as kyle fixes your waist in place and cants your hips higher, balls slapping your greased thighs, tightening with his looming orgasm, is that this was never meant to be a one time thing.

(won’t be, if he has any say in it.)

you resolve to think about it later. later; the coil in your stomach ripping a blinding release.

#unedited #and written on my phone #im in a summer mood if u couldnt tell #also back on my gaz loves butt stuff agenda #kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle ‘gaz’ garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #kyle gaz Garrick #x you #x reader

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bucknastysbabe · 5 months

Text

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW//age gap, grooming, manipulation, no one is properly nice, Criston being crazy, Targtower!reader, canon era, anxiety and panic attacks, sibling strife, Alicent is tired, isolation, angst, sad ending, innocence/corruption kink, slight religious kink, v!fingering, oral, frottage, pnv!sex, lots of tears, I was emo okay and no I did not rush the ending no I did not-

WC: 9.5k (idk what happened oops)

Taglist: @arcielee @bambitas @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @starogeorgina @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @sugarpoppss2 @fairysluna @jamespotterismydaddy @elaratyrell

Being Alicent’s second daughter, the third of Viserys, your political pawn status was minimal in youth. You minded your own and listened, a constant shadow behind your mother. The queen was your idol— she was strong, devout, and loved deeply. It was your siblings who were willful, dragon blood coursing through their veins that made her fraught.

Somehow it felt you didn’t get any dragon blood. Your egg had refused to hatch, your eyes an ugly dark purple. The worst was that you had red hair. The hair of the Hightowers. You'd been born too late and too plain it seemed. The feeling of being strange led to shyness plaguing you. Hence why you’d clung to your mother’s skirts, she made you feel safe and beloved. Any closeness with your siblings dissolved as time wore on. Alicent apparently didn't mind, even if her child was manufacturing her own isolation.

Aemond devoted himself to scholarly learning, training in the yard, and flying on Vhagar. Helaena seemed to rather keep to herself, stitching beautiful works and catching her lovely insects. Aegon— he embraced hedonism and you’d leave it at that. You had been close with Daeron when he was a babe, loving on your little brother. Then Alicent sent him to Oldtown.

Ser Criston and your mother seemed to be the only presence you were around most of your childhood. You loved the white knight dearly, he’d bring you little gifts and swing you around as Alicent prattled on about something. He was so handsome and chivalrous, always a kind word upon his lips. Just the thought of the oath-sworn knight made you grow flushed and giddy.

You’d hide behind Ser Criston's white cloak when your father occasionally took interest. Viserys seemed annoyed at your shy demeanor, asking Criston to bring you to him. It was dreadful, he was decaying and his rotten smile was frightful. You would weep and shake, turning toward your mother or Criston. Looking for an escape.

The king would frown. He sniffed, “Here Cole, take the girl, Hightower as they come hm?”

Criston’s jaw clenched before he sighed, “Come on princess, we have appointments to keep.” You had grabbed his hand and left— ignoring Viserys' muttering. It brought a feeling of uselessness to your young heart. At least Daeron was bettering himself in Oldtown. The Kingsguard scoffed, “I wouldn’t appreciate sitting in his lap either. He will always have eyes for your half-sister, do remember that. Your mother has your interests in mind.”

“I understand, Ser Criston."

When Alicent was sleeping or tending to the matters of the realm, you oft sat with Ser Criston as he guarded the queen. He would tell you about his youth in the Dornish Marches, harrowing tales of battle and blood. One time as a child you grew so frightened you hopped in his arms. He laughed and petted your hair, “You’re alright, no vulture kings shall get you. Not with me here.” His smile was bright, and his brown eyes lit with humor.

You hid a picture you’d drawn of you all grown up, a beautiful maiden holding hands with Ser Criston. A dragon would be there too. Fantasies plagued your innocent mind, courtly love between a princess and her loyal white knight. Nothing like the isolation and tension that brought strife to your family. Everything was perfect and happy. Everyone loved each other. Stupid, stupid, silly you.

As you matured into the early stages of womanhood, your shyness and frayed nerves did not abate. In fact, fits of crying and shaking began to afflict you. Tourneys, balls, and weddings made your stomach turn and hands grow clammy. The Maester had given a tincture for fits and fears such as these, citing a ‘hysterical disposition.' The tincture was diluted milk of the poppy.

You were half-dazed and daft but no longer weeping through an entire feast. Small victories.

At three-and-ten you visited Dragonstone, bonding with the gorgeous Silverwing. As you flew around the island, tears streamed down your face. It was beautiful, so very beautiful. When you landed, your white knight and mother clapped, proud of their favorite princess. Even Aemond gave a word of applause. Rhaenyra watched with a strange look, further back. You refused to acknowledge her, you had heard all you needed to know about your elder sister.

Later, Aegon had japed with a sloshing goblet, “Ah, I was beginning to think you were a bastard dear sister. Maybe a lord will take an interest now.” Ser Criston had cuffed the lad on the ear at that, Aegon squeaking an apology.

The knight consoled you afterward, gloved hand tilting your chin up. His dark orbs bore into your own, his thumb swiping your tears. He stated intently, “Never, never for a second think you are not true-born. My princess, you are just beginning to blossom, you’re Targaryen as they come. I will defend that claim until my death.”

Your heart skipped a beat, tears welling up as you hugged the older man, thanking Ser Criston for his kindness. He was stiff at first, then gloved hands came to rest at your shoulders. He called you blossom after that, the pet name never failed to make your cheeks flush. Alicent took great pleasure that you had kept to their sides instead of wandering off to find whatever to abate the stress of being Royal. She would sniff occasionally, "Do remember what white signals, virtue."

Ser Criston named you the Queen of Love and Beauty at six and ten, a tourney Otto and Alicent schemed for you to get a suitor. Although the suitors were cracked in the helm and knocked on their ass. Criston was rather vicious this tourney, winning the melee and joust. You chose not to dwell on the blood splattered on his shiny armor, for it caused wicked thoughts. He grinned with red lips, offering the crown.

Aegon rolled his eyes, quipping something foul as he guzzled his wine. Viserys had apparently glared at the knight, mouth twisting. You smiled and blushed, feeling like a silly child again. The handsome marcher was consuming you more and more. Eyes that saw you wholly, his little blossom.

Later in the evening, many lords or heirs were at the feast for your sake. They did not seem interested, casting wary looks. You decided it was partly your nerves and shy nature, the glaring knight at arm's length was no benefit. You made one connection that night with a son of the Arbor, a sweet-faced Redwyne lad. His name was Meryn, that was the extent you knew. Grandsire seemed to be pleased with your choice. Criston's dark eyes lingered in your mind. Meryn had dark green eyes and straw-blonde hair. He would be alright if you had to, Meryn was courteous. You swallowed down bile at the thought of living so far away.

You’d become so struck with Cole you had begun to lie awake at night, purposely ignoring the desire that coursed through blue veins. He had said that a true, chaste maiden did not give in to carnal pleasures. Your mother said that self-pleasure was sinful and wicked. You'd read the Seven-Pointed Star, the Stranger would fondly take fornicators down to the seven hells.

You agreed, feeling sinful if your womanhood ever throbbed. Innocence remained a quality of yours, Viserys liked to call you his Septa daughter to Daemon. You’d rather be a Septa than a whore. Aegon had doomed himself already. You hated when he spoke so vulgar at the table, you had to look away in disgust.

Aegon crushed your entire world, in fact. The pair of you had ridden to the Dragonpit to ride Sunfyre and Silverwing. You rode in silence, Ser Arryk and Erryk behind on guard. The stilted awkward air between Aegon and you seemed to thicken as the Dragonpit loomed closer. Your elder brother blurted “Are you still infatuated with that preening peacock Cole?”

You stiffened and stared, aghast, mouth agape.

Aegon’s full lips smirked. He laughed “Oh, you still are. I forget you follow him and mother around the keep like a shadow. You’re six and ten, you don’t want to fuck a lordling? Or are you saving it for Ser Cole?”

“Stop it, he’s kind and a good knight. You should respect our Kingsguard, he keeps mother safe.”

Hot tears began springing at your eyes as Aegon laughed harder, that horrid shrieking giggle. One of the Cargyll’s snorted. Aegon always made you feel so silly and childish. You sniffed angrily “What are you getting at Aegon?”

“Sorry sister, sorry, it’s just- hah! It’s just your white knight’s cloak has been likely been dirtied since I was born. You do know the rumor don’t you?”

Your heart began to patter uncomfortably against your chest. Ser Erryk always carried your medicine— you did not wish to take it as you were trying to fly. Aegon leered with a grin. He spoke in a low murmur, “He hates our dear half-sister so, we know that. Rumor has it Cole sullied his oath as he took her maidenhead. She spurned him later. Then your ‘white knight’ beat Laenor’s fop lover’s face in wrath at her wedding.”

Your legs and hands began to grow numb from sheer panic. You cried, “No, you are lying! Why would you say such dreadful things?” Shakes began, as tears leaked down your red cheeks. The prince noticed your state and sighed, “No one knows if he truly did. 'Tis not strange he became mother’s sworn sword after one night hm?”

Your vision swam. No, no, no— you couldn’t believe that. Ser Erryk rode up next to you, beckoning you to open your mouth. He yanked you onto his horse, chiding Aegon, “Shut your mouth about that, you know how she gets. I have to return all the way to the keep!”

The prince shrugged, offering a weak apology, face a rude smirk.

Ser Erryk sighed, “He’s a prick. Talk to your mother about Ser Criston. Back to the keep we go, just relax.” You felt like your chest had compressed into a tiny box, shaking and panting. It couldn’t be true. You would speak to your mother immediately. The tincture began to soften your muscles, eyes lolling as you slumped onto the Cargyll twin. Erryk murmured, “Can’t wait for this shite show with the marcher.”

You were still in a hazy lull, the movement of the horse and Ser Erryk’s familiar lilt leaving you in a poppy-laden stupor. He’d ridden into the courtyard, carrying your limp frame into the castle, barking at a squire to take his horse. You mumbled, “Mother, need her.”

“I know, princess.”

Ser Criston’s voice made your poppy laden eyes flick upwards. The knight demanded, “What the hell is this? Did you dose her with the entire phial? Where’s Prince Aegon? Give her to me.”

Ser Erryk bit back, “She asked for the Queen, Ser Criston. Not you.”

You nodded softly, Ser Criston’s brows pinching together, his lips thinning in anger. He snapped, “I’ll take her to the Queen, give me the princess. Seems you can’t follow the maester’s directions, Ser Erryk.”

“No. Trust me when I say this Cole, Aegon brought this on. He was telling your ‘blossom’ all about,” the man whispered something to the marcher. Criston’s face paled, a stricken look over his features.

The door opened without further protest, Ser Erryk laying you upon the plush settee, curtly nodding. He exchanged words with the Queen. Criston remained outside the door, dark gaze peering from afar. Your mother’s wide eyes and familiar green dress hovered in your vision. She stroked your hair and sighed, “Dear girl, what did Aegon say?”

Your sluggish hand gripped her own, glazed eyes meeting brown. You whimpered “Tell me he was lying. Just tell me Aegon was lying about him.”

Alicent’s lips pursed, turning to gaze at the lingering Cole. She ordered, “Ser Criston, please shut the door.” Even through the medicinal haze, the man looked downright fearful. The door shut with a soft click. Your mother’s attention was back on you, kissing your forehead.

“About who? Take your time.”

You moaned in anguish, “Ser Criston. He broke his oath to be with her?,” you sobbed, “He lies, he can’t, mother please!”

Alicent’s eyes flicked to the door once more. She bundled your frame into her arms, lifting your limp body up. Her soothing voice murmured, “Ser Criston is a good man. He loves us dearly. He is sworn and would die for us, my dear.”

You wept, “Tell me the truth.”

“He had a moment of weakness. Ser Criston was merely a few years older than I and Rhaenyra. She manipulated his good heart and bewitched him. That is all. He did not break his oath.”

You stared at your mother, unsure if she was lying while the pristine image of Criston darkened. Was it hurt? Jealousy? Childish affection gone wrong? There was nothing to do but softly weep in your mother’s arms before sleep took you. Supper was provided when you awoke, only Alicent caring for you.

She never lied to you before. Your mother cherished you too much to lie.

Right?

You faced Ser Criston again. The ache in your chest throbbed— but you would give him grace. He was devoted and good to you. His worried look made the apprehension die down. The knight grabbed your shoulders, eyes piercing as he frantically spoke, “Blossom, my princess, please. I have been distraught for days. What can I do?”

You stared at him, mind conjuring a response, feeling like a bratty child overreacting. His leather gloves squeezed again to draw your attention. It took everything in your weak heart not to babble and weep. This man was sworn to chastity and the Faith, yet you craved him like nothing else.

“Aegon just shocked me. This is a lot to process. I-I didn’t know anything about that, oh, ordeal.”

He seemed to sag, guilt wracking his handsome features. Ser Criston pulled your small form inward, chin atop your head. He murmured, “It is a stain that shall never be washed. Your mother saved me. I grew stronger from the failure. It pains me more now that you have learned the truth after so long. I should have let you know.”

You nodded against the steel plate of his chest, resigned.

You let him hold you— unsure of your intense feelings. The Red Keep was a web spun of lies. Even Ser Criston was caught in the horrid trap. You would remain to trust him, his affair with Rhaenyra was before you were even a thought. Still, your gut churned with uncertainty.

Criston murmured, "I shall never fail you again, sweet blossom."

You had distanced yourself from Ser Cole, protecting your own heart selfishly. He was upset and had been striving to gain your once devoted affection. It wasn’t hard to avoid him as war came in on Dragonback. They plotted and planned, too busy for Helaena to mourn. Aegon was raging at all times. You remained in your rooms, nervously awaiting Syrax or Caraxes to show on the horizon. Dracarys. Dracarys, the voices sang in your head.

They were always in the Council Chambers.

You’d been in your room, feeling madness creep at the edges of your mind. Shadows in the corners, fire on the horizon. A knight stood guard outside day and night, sometimes your mother would come sup with you. All she could do was tiredly ramble and apologize. You held her softly one night as she cried, how alone and useless she felt. You could empathize with that. At least in your room, you were safe from those fits. Sometimes.

Then your grandfather left. Criston was now Lord Commander and Hand of the King. A small ceremony was held in the throne room, Aegon strutting around like a peacock. You knew he was as scared as the rest of the Keep. Alicent sighed to you, “My darling, stay strong, you must.”

The man you had grown up with, the fancy of your girlhood, looked frightening with his chain of gold hands, lips curled up in pleasure. His eyes flicked toward you, entrancing. The newly appointed hand smiled with pride. You looked down and away, shaking hands clasped together. There was no reason for tears about this. Yet, the titles muddled and twisted your preferred concept of the loyal white knight.

War had truly begun with armies on the move around the realm. Criston, Aegon, and Aemond set off to Lord Staunton at Rook's Rest.

After the incident at Rook’s Rest, Criston returned colder, Aemond with the crown, and Aegon charred half to death. The now powerful marcher was paired with his protege, they could conquer and perhaps win this war. You were frightfully alone again, Alicent moved into Aegon’s chambers. Nothing new you supposed, yet your heart hurt.

About a week after the return, you were summoned to the Hand’s Tower. Criston sat at the desk, war plans drawn up. His hair was shorn, a beard grown in. The soft part of you ached at his bruised and nicked face. You awkwardly curtsied and murmured, “Lord Hand.”

“Don’t call me that, Ser Criston is fine,” he said, a hint of aggravation to his hoarse voice.

“Sorry, Ser Criston,” you apologized. He seemed like a different person sitting where your grandsire once sat. He beckoned you over, closer and closer until you were at the edge of the desk. He looked tired, sad, and beleaguered by his position. You murmured, “You requested me Ser?”

He sighed, leaning back in the supple leather chair. Criston’s eyes were achingly wet as he stated, “Do you still despise me so? All I think about is you, your safety, and how I can keep my blossom alive and well. After Rook's Rest, I began to remember my priorities."

You whimpered softly, the months of being alone and overlooked had taken their toll. You missed him dearly. Taking a few sighs, mouth quivering, you whispered. Whispered only so you may not sob. Your dress was bunched up by your distraught hands. Inwardly, you cursed yourself for being weak.

"I have been so…isolated. I don’t leave my room and all I can do is stare at the window and...and and hope I don’t!”

You clamped your jaw shut as your voice grew higher with emotions. Hot tears ran down your cheeks now— brought on by the outburst. Criston made a soft noise, pleading, “Blossom, come here. To me. You know how I hate to see your tears.”

It embarrassed you how fast you climbed into his lap and wrapped your arms around his shiny armor. The man cooed, cradling your frame and nuzzling your hair. His hands gripped into your curled legs— you didn’t care. It felt so good to be with him.

“There we are, poor princess, why are you crying blossom?”

His dark brows were pinched in concern, gaze quizzical in nature. You refrained from staring at his lips. One of his warm hands pressed into your back, rubbing up and down. You focused on that, tucking your face against the warm crook of his neck.

“Take your time princess, I’ve got you. Too sweet for this dreadful world.”

Ser Criston’s soothing words and hands, his gentle tone could almost lull you to sleep. It felt like an hour had passed, soaking in the moment. You blinked a bit, feeling syrupy sweet in his arms. He asked “Blossom, are you feeling better?” A soft little jerk of your head was the response before you pulled back to look at him.

“I feel better, thank you Ser Criston. I grow fearful,” you frowned at your words, “More fearful than usual.”

He cocked his head, seeming to mull over the words. The man sighed, “I haven’t done a good job of prioritizing your protection. These are arduous times.” Criston thumbed your cheek, sliding down to tilt your chin up. He murmured, “Tell me the truth. I feel a piece of me has returned. You cannot spurn me again, I need you my blossom, more than anything to keep going.”

His agonized eyes and the tiniest little warble at the end of his sentence melted your fears. This was Ser Criston— he’d done right by you, only second to your mother. Even then, he knew you in a way others didn’t. Something behind the mad little princess who cried at feasts. Criston saw qualities none seemed to perceive.

Making eye contact you admitted, “I missed you too. I- I had a hard time coming to terms. I was sickened with envy, picturing that…my sister, having Ser Cole’s heart,” you placed a hand over the white cloak on his shoulder, “I know it was a mistake now. I grew up thinking you were, Gods, the knight out of tales. Gallant and true. It was swept out from under me and I behaved as a child. You're only human.”

Criston’s jaw gritted, frustration crossing his features. He hissed, “If I could take my honor back from that viper I would. But I chose to be fooled, a young idiot. I know what it feels like to be truly loved now. Unconditionally.”

He licked his lips, “Knowing that I hurt you, hurt me. I prayed and prayed. I don’t know if I can be that knight for you, my dear blossom. But I can be the knight that gives his life for you, his heart and soul. You were merely hurt, I can understand why. But the Seven answered my prayers," he beamed, "You’re still here, with me. As it should be.”

Unconditional. He wasn’t wrong. You’d love Criston even if his cloak was stained black. He loved you. Only you. Prayed for you. Your heart swelled, pumping with excitement. At least that's what it seemed he said.

“Oh, Ser Criston, I, I love you.”

His face morphed into a pleasant look, eyes alight with happiness. You moved to straddle him, pressing yourself closer, your cheek pressed to Criston’s dark stubbled one. The knight rumbled, “I love you, innocent love for my little bud, now a blossoming young woman. You’re mine, to cherish and to love. Understand that. Just us.”

He squeezed your waist as you sighed, “Yes, yes Ser Cole, I am yours.”

“My perfect little Princess, the Gods are smiling upon us.”

You nodded along, smiling helplessly, more tears welling as your lips pecked his cheek. Criston turned his head to gently capture your lips, a chaste little peck. You shivered in his embrace, smiling as your noses nuzzled. He was chivalrous was he not?

Soon after you had spoken your feelings for Ser Criston, he wanted you moved into the Hand’s quarters. Said it was safer and you wouldn’t have to stare at the dreaded horizon that brought many a nightmare and fumbling for your tinctures.

It was done quickly, your garments and belongings now intertwined into the man’s quarters. He had the Lord Commander’s room too and pledged to sleep there for your comfort and honor. The knight was sweet and kind, letting you sit upon his lap as he wrote letters, amended decrees, and even kept you there when Aemond arrived to discuss battle.

Your brother looked shocked at your presence, a thin brow arching. He huffed, “Sister, I believe it would be best if you left us to the battle plans.” You nodded, the ingrained behaviors to follow orders hadn’t dissipated. Criston held you tight on his lap, remarking “She’s family. You think your sister to be a turn cloak?”

Aemond grimaced and sat down, his hair swinging as he glared. The crown of the Conqueror laid upon his brow. The crown that belonged to ailing Aegon. Criston poured some wine and handed it to the stiffened Prince Regent, opening the discussion.

You merely sat back and listened, your knight occasionally asking for your opinion. “I don’t know why you would not seek the high ground there,” you offered while pointing to the Westermen’s location. Jason Lannister would be slaughtered. You read up on historical battles now and then.

Aemond’s scoff and Criston’s noise of contemplation shut you up. You knew you were here to please your knight. Make him feel comfortable and less alone. You padded off toward the bed as they talked into the night, ignoring Aemond’s sharp questioning.

A kiss on your lips awoke you, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. The marcher seemed irritated and sleepy, now clad in a white shirt and thin breeches. He sat upon the downy bed to pet your hair, muttering, “Ignore your brother. He thinks he is the king right now, is all. But the hand pulls the strings.”

You shrugged, “He sees me as a distraction I suppose.”

Criston nodded, dark eyes rolling as he gruffed, “You are my motivation, blossom. He will learn to embrace your presence. Now, I have had a long day. I wish to hold you,” his face grew soft, “Is that okay with you dearest? Say no and I shall leave.”

Scooting over you pulled back the warm blankets, Criston crawling in with a sigh. You cuddled into his frame, the marcher flipping you around so he could press the length of his body to your own. He sighed in your ear, “Much better. Soft and sweet. Thank you for trusting me." He placed his chin on your shoulder, humming in contentment, tanned arm wrapped around your stomach.

The voices of the past screamed at you. So be it.

Criston now laid by your side every night, gentle and kind. He'd awaken you with a kiss and that saccharine smile. You fell deeper and deeper in love. His touches grew more frequent, keeping you by his side around the keep. Any snide comment was met with an equally acrid reply.

You'd been invited to sit in at council meets. Your mother seemed surprised, rushing to you, hands clamping down on your arms. She whispered, "What are you doing here? You should not listen to this, it shall give you a fit." You indicated the satchel at your hip and replied, "Ser Criston said I could come along, since I am able of mind and body I should have a say. He has stuck up for a Princess when everyone else has discarded me."

You did not mean to come off as harsh. Ser Criston's affections had bolstered you as of late. The dowager queen's eyebrows raised as her lips turned into a pursed frown. Alicent bit out, "Are you his kept woman now? I raised you better than this." Your mother drew closer to hiss, “Ser Cole loves you. Ser Cole is overstepping his boundaries as the Lord Commander. Lord Hand Criston sees you as his pretty little pet. Do take heed, princess.”

You frowned, chest tight with hurt, childishly scoffing, “Ser Criston cares for me. You’d rather sit and plot than visit your daughter? I’d like to visit Helaena with you, mayhaps Aegon. Don’t lecture me, your grace.”

Aemond called the council, breaking up the heated moment between you and the green queen. You took a seat to the side, watching and listening raptly. Alicent’s eyes flickered between you and Ser Criston, displeasure upon her pursed lips. He eyed her back, furrowing his brows. They had known each other so long the pair could speak without saying a word. Aemond and Lord Lannister prattled on. Worry began to pool in your belly, a shaky hand shifting to the pouch on your waist for comfort.

You could glean the wracked state of the Realm from the terse meeting. Daemon was at Harrenhal and men were gathering. The Hightower host led by a relative and Daeron approached from the south. Cregan Stark’s winter wolves were coming with a cold vengeance and desire to die in glory, grizzled grey beards that they were. You swallowed, mind a bit scattered pulling the pieces together. A crazed Greyjoy was on the loose and the Triarch had been called in. All-out war.

The meeting was adjourned. Aemond would leave soon for Harrenhal. Criston would join him later, much to your fear. Your white knight immediately came to your side, holding your elbow tenderly, “I must have…some words…with her grace. I’ll see you back in the tower?” You nodded, eyes panning toward Aemond getting an earful from your mother. Nerves began to prick— you kissed Ser Cole’s cheek and nodded. He smiled softly, gloved hand caressing your cheek as he murmured, “Sweet girl, relax, it will be fine.”

You may have dropped some of the diluted milk into your wine, hands shaky. You were going mad waiting, waiting, waiting. Mind-spinning rationalizations appeared to ease the rising panic. Your mother had no say anymore, it was Aemond and Criston in charge. If Aegon wasn’t bedridden he likely would not care. Ser Criston would not leave you, he loved you, yes.

The door swung open, clattering against some furniture, startling you upon the settee. Criston was pissed, anyone could see as much as the vetted knight masked his emotions. His eyes were dark, jaw clenched and his teeth audibly ground. He stopped in his tracks, running a hand through shorn hair. You warbled “Criston?”

His furrowed brow and wide eyes turned to you, sighing and stalking forward. The knight dropped to his knees, hands cradling your cheeks. Criston fumed, urgency to his tone, "You’re mine. You shall do as you please. I shall do as I please. I have the right, I'll leave my position as Kingsguard if the oaths are displeasing, you understand sweet girl? I need you to understand you’re my Princess.”

You held his gauntlets to nod, eyes wide upon his visage.

“Say it for me. Say it so I know it to be true. Now.”

Your eyes glossed over with tears. He was in quite the mood. Criston's dark eyes were wet, and desperation laced his roughed voice. Your hands curled around that cold chain of hands, lips frantically moving, “I am yours. Your princess. Nothing shall change that. I swear it on the Seven. I swear it on my heart.”

“I godsdamn love you blossom,” he growled, taking your lips roughly. Criston pressed himself into you, dominating the kiss. His hands moved down to your rear, jerking your hips flush to his own. You cried out, the dark-haired man swallowing the noise, tongue lapping against yours. His lips were insistent, and needy, leaving you breathless. You'd never felt Ser Criston so rough with you, it was intoxicating.

Shivering at his gruff words, you could not help from sliding your arms around his plated neck to moan. Criston pulled back, murmuring, “No one shall keep you from me, I’ll fucking kill them. I may do as I please now.” His lips trailed down your cheek, jaw, to your neck. All you could do was whine as he sucked and nipped little marks, big hands massaging the flesh of your ass. He nosed further down to your décolletage; greedy hands pausing at the neckline.

Lust-blown eyes met your own. You nodded, panting, “Please. Please. Take me as you wish.” His eyes scrunched shut, mouth swollen and wet as those covetous hands of his jerked your dress down, carelessly tearing the silky fabric. You yelped, never having been exposed like this, nerves sparking like wildfire. Criston’s lashes fluttered as he groaned throatily.

“Oh- fucking seven hells, precious girl,” he almost whined, nuzzling into your breasts. You seized up, unused to the carnal touches. Criston yanked off his black gloves to grab handfuls of the tender flesh, still on his knees for you. That seemed to abate the ever-looming presence of your neuroticism. He was submitting, lavishing lush kisses on your fiery skin.

You tightened your legs around his armored waist and cried out when calloused thumbs began to tenderly circle around your budded nipples. He watched your face, lips curled and eyes ever hungry. Criston murmured, “Sweetling, so responsive. Never had your pretty teats touched. Good, good, only me.”

You nodded in haphazard jerks, Criston pulling at one nipple and playing around with your other breast, big hand massaging. His kissing grew closer to the darker skin, lips closing around the bud. You mewled and squirmed, head thrown back to moan. He hummed around your nipple, flicking his tongue across the peak. Criston grew rougher, nipping before pulling off with a lurid pop.

The knight growled, moving onto your other breast. A shiver wracked your frame, your swollen peaks exposed to the chilly air felt like a white-hot line of arousal bolting down between your legs— throbbing and uncomfortably slick. You babbled, “Ser, Criston, Criston, wha-what?”

He chucked darkly, suckling a mark on your sternum. Criston hummed “You like that? Little princess needy for her knight?”

“Love, oh, love it, thank you,” you simpered.

He rasped, nose nuzzling into yours, “Of course…I take care of my blossom don’t I? Sweeter than sin.” His hands placed themselves atop your smaller ones, brown eyes begging. Criston breathed "Blossom- wanna feel you, help me out of this dreadful cage?" Once again mute- you began to unbuckle straps and buttons, exposing more and more skin.

"So good to me. Divine, ah, don't know how I was blessed with an angel."

You helped him out of the chest plate, leaving Criston to undo his white and gray gambeson. You were carefully putting the pieces on his armor stand, the man humming your name. Looking back, Criston smiled softly, his scarred and tanned torso exposed. He beckoned you over, cocking his head in surprise when you dropped to your knees.

“What are you doing, your grace?” Criston's lips curled up in amusement, dark orbs searching your serious expression.

Holding those inky eyes, you helped his boots and thick socks off. Criston threw his padded tunic to the side, cheeks growing flushed. He softly murmured, “Answer me, a Princess should not be on her knees like this.” His hand cupped your cheek, a smirk mirroring your own. You quipped, “Is it bad to be on my knees for you? I am merely serving an important man to the realm.”

You watched his face darken, eyes catching a glint to them. He swallowed, hand on your face tightening. Criston rasped “Is that it? Just merely service? Dirtying your knees like a woman of the night. Does my blossom want to be bad? Behave wanton and licentious so? Forget your maiden's day vow, hm?"

His words made your face grow warm. It was as if he was speaking your fantasies aloud. For once to not be the strange princess— nervous, wrong shade of hair, and overtly pious. No, you wanted to let go. No more being held back by others and your own swirling fears. Ser Cole soothed those aches. You wanted the keep to whisper more about how the littlest one was openly Ser Cole’s pretty blossom, driven from her mother’s teat at last.

“I- I want to make you feel good,” you murmured with blotchy cheeks. It was not necessarily a lie, but if you began to ramble about the lustful feelings you feared you may not stop or disgust the man. That simply couldn’t happen. Not after how far you have come with him.

“You lie to me blossom,” he teased, “I know exactly what you want. What you crave. To think the old king thought you to be a Septa. C’mere then, no more games”

You watched him unlace his light breeches, exposing his dark curls and full prick. A moan slipped from your lips at the sight, lust pounding your body in waves. The knight's cock was heavy and flush, the dark tip weeping. You squeezed your thighs in excitement, licking your lips. Criston’s tan hand jerked at the taught flesh, rumbling, “Needy little blossom.” It was almost funny how he stated it like a simple fact, yet you were on the edge of combustion.

“Y-yes! Please, want it so, want to be your bad girl, the bad princess…please,” you grew shy again after blurting out, “I- in m-my mouth Ser.”

Criston’s expression changed from playful to predatory, dark eyes narrowing a bit. He rasped, “Mhm, filthy little thing. I shouldn’t encourage this behavior. Especially as your protector.” As you shuffled forward to grab the thick flesh he stopped your hand, his amusement facing heady desire. You sulked, “Wanna learn so I can please you Ser.”

Ser Cole seemed content, enough to lean back on one arm, eyes roving to your tits and wide eyes. His other hand stroked himself one more time before shoving two fingers to your lips. You opened dutifully for the intrusion, eyes rolling back in bliss.

Criston’s princess was a dream, a godsdamn dream. He pressed the pads of his fingers down on her tongue, watching her shiver and whine. He soothed, “Settle now, I’ll teach you how. But I need my sweet girl to settle down. Focus on my fingers. Nothing else.” She nodded, wet lashes upon her cheeks now. Her hands were neatly placed in her lap.

He took the still moment to reflect, idly rubbing his cock. She was well trained. Helaena was the same in her mannerisms unless she grew distracted. Before Criston even remotely began to have romantic feelings, his blossom had always held him ensnared. She was horribly timid and clutched to Alicent’s skirts, then began to seek him for comfort. The white knight earned her trust with a trinket he bought in town. A small Yitish jade dragon— to place upon her bedside table. She still had it there, pristine and well-kept.

Criston was not sure when his protective nature slid into desire. It began with jealousy, perhaps around her name-day celebration and resulting tourney. Alicent and Otto were looking for a mate. Something twisted deep within his chest. Criston did not want the sweet thing to leave the castle. Get wedded and bedded by some callous lord or idiot heir.

Her smile after he routed the competition brought great happiness to his heart. That twisted thing in his chest swelled with a possessive pride that soared past his normal feelings for Alicent's children. He hated the feast. The princess was shyly speaking to a young Redwyne lad. The Arbor was too far away for his liking. Yet nothing panned out. He couldn't beat a boy for being kind.

Criston strapped his back bloody and raw for a fortnight as penitance. He could not imagine being a snake slithering around waiting for her. He already knew she held affection for him. Thus prayer would work, and he would be a good, pious protector. Alicent made a small comment and he withdrew from being too close. Those woes seemed to be gone by the time she turned eight and ten— leading to now.

The sweet, blossomed woman was dozing around his fingers now. Criston purred, "Such a good princess, just likes to be bad. That's okay, you deserve it, so kind for helping me out." She softly whimpered and drooled as he pressed upon her tongue.

"Gorgeous, being good for me."

She whined in response, pretty lashes fluttering. Criston almost lost her affection once. That dreadful day with Aegon and Ser Arryk telling him to stand down. He could have wrung his neck. But fear overcame the anger. The knight knew she mustn't gain access to that horrid secret. Criston prayed and prayed and prayed, mutilated, and prayed that Alicent would keep the truth hidden. Something in the uncomfortable hairshirt worked, his blossom forgave him, and the Gods had granted him a boon. Certainly, she was meant to be his then?

Criston blinked out of his reverie, asking gently "Blossom, are you with me?"

She looked like she was under her poppy tinctures. He smiled a bit, the princess blissed out from Criston alone. Eventually, she nodded, trying to speak around his digits. He sighed, "I think I've changed my mind, why don't you come sit in my lap? Must be chilly down there."

The blossom whined when Criston pulled his fingers out, mumbling, "Yes Ser, yes, whatever you need." She clambered onto foal-like legs, Criston guiding her to the plush leather chair. The man easily pulled her frame atop him. He hissed lowly as her ass pressed against his aching cock. Fighting the feeling, he nuzzled into reddish waves, lips quirked up. The knight whispered "You've always been such a pious one. Did you ever touch yourself?"

She shook her head slowly, body melting into Criston's. Her hands wrapped around his bigger wrists. The princess whimpered, "No, never, I would not dare. It is sinful," she paused for a long time, "Right?" Cole chuckled, one hand of his rubbing soothing circles onto her side. He teased "We're together now, I prayed for it, the Seven smile upon us. How can it be sinful if you're touching yourself for me? The Seven-Pointed Star says you may indulge with a paired soul."

He grabbed her chin to emphasize his point, her innocent eyes making his cock hurt "I would say we are paired souls. Do you agree?"

"You know it to be true, you always have," she stated.

"Good. I'll touch you instead, so you may remember this and feel better when I am away."

He bunched her woolen dress, exposing her plush thighs and untainted maidenhead. Criston inhaled sharply, fingers digging into the wrinkled cloth. He could see her slick and aroused, flesh darkened with need. The man gritted his jaw in restraint, he would treat the sweet girl like the delicate blossom she was. Her eyes were still upon him, dark and wet, skin flushed. Ser Cole could feel the tacky way his cock was plastering itself to her ass with his prick leaking the way it was.

"Does it please you?" came her tiny warble.

Criston groaned, "Yes, yes, more than anything yes...Hold your dress up now. I...need to take care of you sweet blossom. My needs can wait." She sniffled and clung to her raised layers of dress, head shyly tucked away as she panted. The Hand gripped the giving flesh of her thigh, coaxing her to open wider with a gentle coo. The redhead shivered in response, breasts bouncing as her breath hitched.

"Have you been this wet for me before?"

"Mhmmm," she whined, hiding her embarrassed look.

"Need you to watch blossom, or you won't know how," he stated. He could feel her gaze watch as Criston's spit-slick fingers cautiously slid across her opening. She mewled in response, gasping, "Ser!" He hushed and laid tiny lush kisses, easing her heightening fears. "Slow and gentle, breathe for your knight," came his rasp.

"Ser, Cris- oh heavens, oh what is that? S-so good!"

He laughed, "A special place the mother gave you, the maiden bestowed for naughty princesses like you to rut on and make a mess. You're making quite a mess, all wet and needy." She moved back against his swollen prick, Criston's eyes fluttering. His princess babbled, "'S for you, m'not, not, naugh-ty." He assured her she wasn't, now narrating his way down to her entrance.

"Your sweet pearl is fun to play with, but most green boys don't know how to work a woman's body. I'll let you take your own pleasure too."

The tips of his fingers slid into her wet warmth, tight and silky smooth. They both gasped into the room's silence, Criston groaning in contentment. He slid further in, minding her reactions. Maiden above she was tight. She planted her feet on the leather chair, her dress falling back. Criston was taken aback as she breathed, "Want to touch you, not this silly dress."

"Seven Hells, you'll send me to an early grave..."

Her hands held onto his forearms as Criston began to delve into her cunt, easing her in with rhythmic slides. She was growing restless, cute tits bouncing with every heave of breath. He would surprise her with the sweet spot. The marcher curled his fingers upwards, dragging against the soft ridged area.

He smirked as her chest hitched once more, a small confused noise leaving petal lips. Criston playfully crooked his fingers back and forth as watched her whine and squirm raptly. The man whispered against her ear, “Feel the heel of my palm? Go on, use your hips.”

Criston’s smirk broke into a smile as she rode his hand and fingers, shyly at first. The princess’ hips twitched tentatively, her slick cunt moving against Criston with ease. He nuzzled her neck, pressing more little kisses as she sped up, fingers digging into his arms. The knight found himself mumbling between kisses, “Good…so good..thassit’.”

His blossom was rutting hard now, huffing between her broken noises. Cole could feel her tighten around him, even one of her pretty tits under his hand was budded and tight. His dark gaze noticed her thighs were quivering as she grew frantic with pleasure, crying Criston’s name. It made his heart swell. Yet the deep-seated craving wasn't met by the hand of the king.

“Mine. Say you're mine. Before you come. Now.”

Her hips stuttered and ground down hard, the princess throwing her head back onto Criston's shoulder as she cried, "I am yours, only yours, forever yours Ser Cole! Hnghhh- oh my gods! Please!" She looked up toward him, begging softly, riding his hand, her ass rubbing Criston's prick to near completion. He demanded her release, gasping as the innocent m thing squealed and gushed all over his hand, grabbing onto him for dear life.

She sobbed in pleasure, sending a gut punch to Criston's own throbbing balls. He gripped down on her with his free hands, squeezing her soft hips as he rutted with heavy grunts, blinking and gasping for breath as he emptied all over her clothed backside. Criston moaned her name, pressing his sweating forehead to her shoulder, inhaling their mixed scent. He rasped, "Lovely blossom, just lovely, I'm so proud of you my love."

She stared with swollen eyes, the prettiest smile upon her lips as she said, "I love you Criston."

He would take that memory to battle with him. Else the man feared he'd pick her up and abscond. He was too deep, had too many scores to settle, dying with a name worth living for. Yet. Yet, she was always there, waiting for him. Ser Criston shut his ever-spinning mind down for the evening.

Criston was leaving for the Riverlands in the morn. He'd kept you by his side for the last week or so. It did not matter where— the throne room, the barracks, his tower, even the council again. People stared and remained silent. Alicent had refused to speak to either of you and Aemond looked at you like a common whore. It did not matter when you had your love.

Ser Cole was insatiable in the bedroom since he brought you to a peak with his fingers. He'd taught you how to suck him, rub him, how to get off on his thighs or tight stomach. Every night you'd lain in a mess of sweat, tears, and come. Nothing was finer than taking a sensual bath afterward, soaping each other up between slow kisses. You were in love, truly, but at such an awful time. You prayed the gods would give him back to you. You feared what would come of you when he left. The thought of death was too much.

Your white knight was in a forlorn mood tonight, holding you tightly. You rubbed his thigh and consoled Criston, "I have a dragon you know. I shall be fine." He grimaced and rolled over to face you, handsome face twisted with emotions. The marcher asked, "I hope you think me to be good and kind even after this all. Don't let me die in vain."

"Don't talk like that," you chastised, frowning.

He grumbled further, sinking into his foul mindset, barbs upon his tongue. A tense argument broke out between you two. Criston ended it by shoving himself atop you and bursting into tears. He gritted, "I am, fucking hell, reconsidering everything now. I must go on. I must face my reality, we both should. But it...hurts! It fucking hurts! You have to grow up now! I've left you in your pretty gilded cage for too long!"

You blinked in shock, his tears hitting your face. Criston seemed to deflate, apologizing and weeping, "M'just scared, I can't leave you alone, I can't. You're all I need. Oh gods forgive me." This was the side of the marcher you knew few had seen. Vulnerable, real, human. Criston huffed into your neck, his hands digging into your waist.

“You’re not wrong-“

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Whether you did or not, ‘tis true Criston. We must face our fates whether that be now or later. I must prepare my own dragon to defend the city. You must go lead our troops. I can’t sit and weep the rest of my life.”

He gazed with wet eyes, red rimmed and dark lashes clumped. You caressed your knight’s cheek, murmuring, “I want you to have me before you leave. The gods never promise anything.”

A soft noise fell from his swollen lips, Criston readjusting himself between your lax thighs. You thought idly about giving him your tincture with the way the man was shaking. He rasped, “They don’t, not the Stranger. I want to make this…good.” Criston’s lips trembled as he pressed them tenderly to your own, balancing himself on an elbow. You wrapped your arms around his wide shoulders, opening up.

The kiss spoke of the utter fear in the air. Long drags of tongue and sucking of lips, no urgency in the sacred moment. You arched into him, suckling gently on the tip of Criston’s hot tongue. He groaned, hips twitching against yours as he tilted his face some, lips dancing yet insistent. You grabbed some of his dark hair, crying out when he nipped your lip. The man ate up your noises, hands greedily roving your body.

“I love you,” he spoke, voice wobbly.

His lips moved down your jaw and neck, sucking at that sensitive place below your ear.

Criston’s cock had grown flush and heavy between your legs, twitching with need. Your own desire began to drip with slick and pounded with blood flow. You rocked against him with a whine, Criston’s eyes flicked to you with a sly smile as he ground back. You threw your head back in pleasure as he massaged and lapped at your tits, sucking at your tits with desperate noises.

Once again you yanked at his hair and Criston moaned, pausing to take your lips again. He murmured, urgency to his voice, “I’m going to stretch you out blossom, as best as I can, wan’ you to feel good. Feel so good.” The urge to cry bubbled up but you nodded along anyways, spreading your legs like the good princess. His good princess.

Criston hitched one of your thighs up around his waist, the other he held out. The man inhaled at your tender mound, eyes black as the coal on his sigil. You shivered involuntarily at the feeling of those sculpted lips sealing around your pearl, sucking ever so softly. One of your hands slapped down on the bed as you whimpered, thighs tightening. His calloused fingers swiped at your slick cunt, diving in two off the get.

It wasn’t painful— you’d gotten quite used to two fingers from your lover. But he pumped a couple of times before stretching his fingers outwards. That was a new feeling, a bothered whine elicited from the sensation. Criston flicked his tongue a couple of times and that was forgotten as hot licks of pleasure bundled up in your belly.

His ring finger slid in, a new feeling, a bit of a pinch. Criston rambled, “Breathe love, breathe, doing so good for me. The most obedient princess, wanton for her night. I wish you could see how much of a mess you’re already making.” He smiled at your keen of arousal and embarrassment, three fingers stretching your tight walls. He dove back down to flick, suck, lick at your pearl— relentlessly so.

Your hand not trying to rip the bed gripped his short hair, thighs clamping down now. He was abusing your other gifted place, curling his fingers as if to bring your release forward. Wet noises of his hungry mouth and ravenous fingers filled the room. He grunted, hips jerking to a standstill when you whimpered, “So close, closeclose, I love you, oh stars Criston.”

He didn’t cease his movements as you felt goosebumps arise across your hot skin, sweat beginning to bead up as pleasure rose and rose. Your lower stomach was a tight cord, ready to come undone, winding tighter and tighter. All you could do was mewl and squirm, enslaved to his ministrations. You gaped, breath going staccato, whining through your nose.

The coil snapped.

You fell apart in a flurry of shaking limbs, mouth wide open yet not a peep coming out. It was intense and fiery, the flames of carnal delights searing you. Criston moaned softly, “Ah- gorgeous blossom, made a mess all over.” He licked his swollen lips and wet chin, cock beaded and bobbing between trim thighs. You watched in a haze, feelings the subtle burn from his beard brushing your delicate skin. It felt delightful to you— the dull throb.

“Want you, please, want your,” you paused, “Want us to be truly together.”

Criston nodded, hand on his prick, precariously sliding atop your limp form. He slicked up the head of his already weeping member with your own essence, eyes rolling back at the sensation. Criston nuzzled against your face, promising to make you feel good. He seemed to grow more emotional, taking his time with sliding the blunt head around your entrance.

Carefully holding wide shoulders you tried to relax your nervous body, going limp when his cock breached your tight cunt. Criston shivered, pushing forward a bit more, gasping out. “Princess, are you okay? Hm?” Worried brown eyes flitted around as he met your eyes. You nodded in a slow jerk, it was uncomfortable but more foreign than anything. The man pushed in further, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock.

There it was, a pinch inside. Your chest went a little tight, nails digging into his shoulders. Criston’s mouth opened but you surged forward to kiss him, thighs and heels urging the man on. You’d never wanted anything else but this, right now. He moaned deep and long, holding himself from going too far. Inch by inch he settled, the pair of you panting into eachother’s mouth. A pregnant pause settled over your connected forms, his eyes upon yours. Brown and plum.

You didn’t have to say it again— it was felt.

Criston gingerly pulled out on a soft whine, pushing himself back into your cunt. Then again. Over and over until he built up a pace, mouth hanging open as he groaned helplessly. The friction was delicious, the pain blending away to fall into deep pleasure. Your nails clawed at his back some, keening your lovers name as he began to fuck you in earnest.

You felt so fucking full and satisfied, Criston’s gorgeous moans urging you to fuck back onto his fat prick. Useless babbles left your lips, “Full, oh, oh you feel s’good.” Criston whined wetly against your neck, feverishly kissing and sucking as he grabbed your hips to get a better angle. His beard rubbed your neck and collarbones raw— another reminder of his love. The marcher’s chest heaved as his hips and balls hit your skin, leaving nothing back as he gave in.

“Godsdammit, hah, sweet blossom, taking your knight so well. Made for me, swear- swear it.”

“All for you.”

He bit down on your neck, thrusting at a breakneck pace. The dark haired knight couldn’t quit from rambling or moaning, eyes scrunched shut as your tight pussy milked him. You squirmed under his heavier body, Criston’s chest hair rubbing against the delicate skin of your breasts, your nipples aching from the friction. Your nails drew deeper scores into his back. Tears pricked at your eyes.

Once again you were at the precipice.

Why did this feel like the last?

Criston whined as his hips stuttered, cock twitching deep inside. His tactful thrusts were mismatched and sloppy, the firmness of his voice chipped away to quavering emotional whimpering. You tightened further, your cunt spasming in waves as you felt the familiar throes burn deep inside. So good it hurt. The pair of you came undone together, sounding like a pair of young lovers squealing and crying. Thick ropes of his cum painted your insides, another shiver crossing your frame.

Would it be so bad if his seed took?

Criston fell down to his side, cock slipping out in a mess of spend and blood. He grabbed onto you tightly, tears slipping down your cheek. Your own tears mingled with his, you absently petting dark hair. He laughed blithely, “I shall bear your wounds proudly, hmph.” You pointed out your neck, agreeing to do the same in case you were needed.

“I’ll pray for you my love.”

“And I you.”

Many winters and summers later, barflies would say you could catch glimpses of a ragged white knight asking where his blossom was, down on some road south of the Gods Eye. The ghost would never know she perished in dragonflame, best that he didn’t, if anyone even knew what the apparition was talking about.

#ser criston cole x reader #ser criston cole #criston cole x reader #kingmaker era #heed the tags #targaryen!reader #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction

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sharkiethrts · 5 months

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prompt: meeting highschool sweetheart! sunday for the first time. oh, just how charming he tried to be

relations: sunday x reader

notes: this is modern au! with little relation to the actual story. There are NO YANDERE THEMES in this particular work, I'm more focused on picturing the human side of Sunday (without the detrimental effects of the dream master's manipulations).

warnings: none.

He talks a lot. Though you find that every word he says tend to fill with immense knowledge that seemed to peruse all the right places that clicked all the content your teacher had tried to impart upon the class. At this point, he made the teachers' comments seem more like an add on to his lessons. A rendition, almost.

He doesn't seem to have ever possessed a single vacuous thought in his life.

He's resplendent, too. Which added onto the charm, even if the classmate had found the subject particularly boring, they'd have to focus their gaze on him at least. If his charms hadn't worked (how, even), then his commanding presence should do the trick. Even when he wasn't speaking, you found that your gaze often found their way so incredibly naturally to him.

You think he knows of his charm. Otherwise, why would he be so confident in offering to relay the summary of Kafka's 'metamorphosis' so eagerly to you as an accompaniment to your reading.

"Kafka's self esteem has essentially pledged itself upon the approval of his family, which led to the derelict condition of his heart at the post-climax of the story..."

His voice is nice too. If the noises of the library are a cacophony of miserable sounds, his seems to have conducted all of it into an irie melody. You find yourself wondering whether his interactions with you have been a combination of polite passes and a shackled formality to maintain with another. You aren't an idiot, though you can be rather forgiving to details, you certainly haven't missed the unctuous smile and words he gifts to another.

You'd like to think that you'd be able to catch it when his facade starts showing but with the way his golden eyes introduce you to a drowning reverie, you start to doubt it.

It's not your first interaction, since his eager summarisation of Great Expectations two months ago, he hasn't stopped approaching you.

A part of you start to suspect that he had planned this. Every Friday, twelve forty-five, at the fiction corner.

You'd once change your schedule, moving it an hour later and happened upon Sunday impatiently waiting by the non-fiction corner, just two steps away from the fiction corner. When your eyes met, you think you saw a hint of splendor relief. You had quickly turned away. So you missed the rest.

"Are you perhaps tired?" His questions brings you back to reality, your eyes blinking furiously from how dry it had gotten by the past minute of you completing gazing off, "I understand that you had biology just prior to this, so I'd understand if you'd prefer to talk about something... easier to swallow... Macbeth, perhaps?"

There it is again. His not-so-subtle-now-that-you've-caught-on way of leading your time together to become a plethora of unending adventures. He doesn't offer to walk away but rather, a simple remedy of a new book. Sometimes a longer one, he had tried to sneak Harry Potter in once. Sneaky boy.

Seriously though? Macbeth for an 'easier-to-swallow' alternative? Now he's getting sloppy.

You test him.

"How about we part ways for now?" His eyes turned cautious. You decide to push it further, "I don't wish to burden your... already crowded responsibilities," you're certainly aware of his role as the golden boy of the Oak family, "Nor do I wish to force more ingratiating words out of you," You're certainly aware of his hidden affections for you by now, "Now that I think of it, haven't this been going on for... three months? That doesn't sound too fair to you-"

"-Two months," He cuts you off, his eyes now looking slightly strained. His posture taut, "You shouldn't be worrying of anything of the sorts, I'm completely happy to revise any type of stories you're interested in..."

That reminds you, your lie of being interested in Metamorphosis. You're sure that he hasn't read of it, yet, with his superb recounting of it to you? He must have spent his week revising.

"You don't need to be so... genteel," You smile, knowing exactly what a fool you're making of him, "I'm not exactly the most exciting conversation partner."

"Nonsense!" He cuts you off again, suddenly forgetting his manners, "You make me feel excitable things, I can assure you-" His cheeks suddenly turn red. His mouth closes. Then opens. And shuts again.

You let out the cheekiest smile you can possibly muster, "... Excitable, you say?"

You watch his neatly folded collar wrinkle for the first time.

"Nothing scandalous!"

You weren't thinking of such but now you're certainly curious, "I'm not quite sure I believe you."

Oh, did his tie loosen? A new sight to behold indeed.

Best to come at twelve forty-five sharp next week then.

#sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sharkie works ; all honkai #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x you #modern soft! sunday #highschool sweetheart!sunday #soft!sunday

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justadeadreaper · 8 months

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TW: Hair pulling, DUBCON, Manipulation, Crying, Sadistic tendencies, "Experiments", Being a "pet", Hinting at further actions/NONCON, Past kidnapping, Kidnapped, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

Being the pet of Angel!König is not the worst fate you could have found yourself in. On one hand, you were guaranteed a spot in Heaven for the rest of eternity, which was a fate that most people dream of, while on the other hand, it meant you were never able to see your friends or family again unless they somehow made the criteria to make it into Heaven but knowing them you thought it to be impossible.

He is nice, well, as nice as he can be for an Angel who keeps you as a pet.

The Common Angels that cared for you when he was busy were the ones to gossip, and they gossiped loudly. You knew the jist of why you were there even if you did not have all the details. Apparently, most of the First Heirarchy Angels, such as Seraphim and Cherubim, tended to have a fascination with humans even if they were to never to act on it like previous ones, such as Lucifer had done. And this included Angel!König, who was the most fascinated by humans out of them all; you did not know what he had gone, but he had done something which allowed him to be granted one gift by the Almighty, and unluckily Angel!König only had his eyes on one human out of all of the ones that resided on Earth.

That human just had to be you.

You had been stolen away in your sleep and dragged away to a palace. It was grand and incredibly vast. At one point, you thought it was larger than all of Earth as it seemed never-ending as you continued to walk through its many halls. It was made up of a collection of star matter, clouds, and gold to form its walls, ceilings, balconies, staircases, floors, shelves, and anything else you could think of. You could never get bored inside of it as every time you opened a door; it showed you a room that was filled with anything you wanted to entertain yourself. Most of the time, you found yourself reading in the library as not only were their books in there, but the fanfiction you also enjoyed reading had been formed into books, and many series that you had wished to have finished were fully finished even if it would have never been possible on Earth. Another point that made the palace a dream was how the kitchen was filled with food. Like how the bathroom and closets were filled with any clothes you wanted or skin care items needed, the cupboards, fridges, and freezers were all filled to the brim with all the foods in existence that never seemed to go rotten or end. You could make anything you wanted, but most days, you would just open the doors to the dining room to find a feast already prepared for you.

You did not think as to why a being like an Angel would have all of those things as they should not need them, but you tried not to think about it. You had learnt that it was better not to think of such things.

Overall, your life seemed great. You were trapped like a bird in a cage. No matter how appealing the cage was or how glamorous it was, you were still trapped, and there was nothing you could do about it. The only thing you could do was accept your new luxurious life, as there was no point in fighting back.

In return, all you had to do was appease your new master, which was not too hard. Angel!König did not ask for much when he was around you after doing the duties he was appointed to do. For his size, he was surprisingly gentle; he never tried to harm you, at least not on purpose or if he was not doing one of his experiments. He had a few simple rules that you had to follow.

One: No asking questions, but if you have to, not too many.

This rule was only implemented due to how you kept pissing him off by asking him too many questions and screaming at him for what he had done. He banned you from asking questions after that point unless it was necessary due to you being an utterly clueless human in Heaven.

Two: Always listen to him.

Not too hard as most of what he told you to do were simple commands, but when he did start ranting to you and telling you everything about the things he found interesting, which mainly was just about killing Demons.

Three: Always do what he wants you to do.

It was the one rule you hated the most, but he somehow always guilted you into complying by saying how he was just curious and wanted to learn as he had never met a human before.

Four: Be nice and compliant.

You wanted to fight back, and at times, you tried to, but you packed that in once he had brought a Demon back to show you and told you what terrible things they would do to a human like you. You also learnt the valuable lesson of not trying to test him that day when you saw how easily he crushed that Demon’s skull in his hand.

Five: Never try to escape.

Probably the easiest rule to follow as it was impossible to escape the damn palace anyway.

The rules most of the time were not a problem. It was his experiments that were your biggest problem. They were not even real experiments, it was just his excuse to be able to do what he wanted with you.

It started off small, nothing much really. All he asked was that he could play with your hair, he said that he enjoyed playing with it as the texture was so different from Angel hair and the material that made up their wings. It was simple, just him holding a clump of hair in his hand as he seemed to study it. He even enjoyed styling your hair and helping you through your care routine for it. But, it progressed. After a while, he began to tug and pull at it, you would cry and ask why but all he would say was that he wanted to see what would happen when he did it. That was when you learned about his sadistic side as he never stopped pulling your hair, he just loved to see you cry.

From your hair, it turned into touches. He would fondle and squish at your body as he made demeaning comments about how soft and delicate mortals were compared to Angels like him. It made you feel pathetic but at the same time, it was relaxing. The heat in his palms would radiate into your muscles, helping them to relax, getting rid of all the knots that tended to plague you. He made you melt into his arms, making you complacent putty in his hands. But those touches moved to more intimate areas. It started with him toying with your nipples, pulling at the delicate flesh until you choked on tears. Then soon enough his hand went lower finding your most sensitive part. He would rub it, the callouses on the tips of his fingers made the feeling somewhat odd but it felt all the better. He would rub, flick, pull, anything he could at it until you were a crying, overstimulated mess who could barely say your own name as the sheets were covered with your own cum; he would stare at you with glossed-out eyes, deep in thought like this was all new to him.

Unfortunately, you did not know that soon he would take it further then you could have guessed. It would be an actual experiment. One to make the perfect hybrid.

Taglist: @frogchiro @diejager @suimon @konigsblog

I am so sorry for not posting in a while I have just been busy with a big project that has taken over my brain and is my main focus, plus I have had exams. Hopefully, I can post soon and start posting the project, warning some of you may be emotionally devastated or want to kill a certain character (*cough cough* like two of my friends who already are waiting in line to have a little "talk", you know who you are *cough cough*). I may come back and edit this later.

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lagoonalake · 8 months

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Can we get BTS ideal type? 👀💕

BTS IDEAL TYPE

JIN

Personality: 6 of cups, the empress, 9 of wands

Someone very giving, compassionate, feminine, healing. A strong support. Very warm soothing presence. Very calming. More of a homebody. Fiercely protective of him and their privacy/home/family if they were to have one. He has a lot of love to give and wants to pamper his partner, so someone ready to receive affection and ready to settle. Physical touch is important. He also would most likely want children. Someone good with kids. Motherly. Nurturing. Sensual. cancer, taurus, leo

Appearance: 2 of wands, 9 of swords, the star

Someone who looks a little like him, who mirrors his features or matches him physically. Nice legs. A more mature, reassuring, soothing, motherly quality. More regular looking than sexy idol. Feminine but strong appearance. Can both look cuddly and fierce. "The typical mom". A more classic or casual style. He likes the teacher look, glasses, and it’s not the “sexy teacher” type, more like reassuring, warm teacher type. He finds someone being good with kids or cooking attractive. cancer, leo, taurus

Turn offs: 4 of pentacles, knight of swords, 9 of wands

Someone clingy, possessive, jealous, aggressive. He likes a bit of fierceness, but too much defensiveness turns him off. Someone harsh with words, with no compassion, selfish. Someone who is never happy, always looking for a fight. aries, mars, scorpio

SUGA

Personality: 4 of swords, 9 of pentacles, 5 of pentacles

Honestly, I’m not sure he really is open for love. Companionship maybe, but deep emotional connection probably not. He basically would prefer someone who is not too stressful, gives him some company and appreciates all the abundance he has to offer. He doesn’t seem open to offer much else unfortunately right now. So his type could be someone who is in need of money, or who would really value the material aspect of the relationship. Sugar daddy vibes lol. earth signs, especially taurus

Appearance: the tower, 2 of cups, the moon

It’s more about the chemistry and the impression that this person gives rather than specific traits. Someone he would feel a deep intimate connection with. He tends to rarely fall for someone but when he does it’s head over heels and it comes out of the blue. Someone who makes a big impression on him. Could like a thicker, meatier body type. Someone a bit mysterious but with an intense aura. scorpio, pisces, aries, taurus, uranus

Turn offs: king of swords, the magician, the moon

Trickster, people who are trying to gaslight him, manipulate him especially with their words. Cold, detached, overly intellectual people who like to listen to the sound of their own voice. People pleasers who hide behind a mask, who are fake, hypocritical, two faced. negative air signs

J-HOPE

Personality: knight of wands, 10 of wands, the sun

Big personalities. Someone with a lot of energy, adventurous, confident, assertive, very fun and connected to their inner child. Someone who is creative, optimistic. Who wants to travel. Someone very active, never stopping, always in movement. Someone able to shoulder a lot of responsibilities. Someone with a lot of charisma and authority, with leadership skills. Inspiring, motivating. A self starter with great success that comes mainly from their own hard work and skills. fire signs, capricorn

Appearance: 7 of wands, 2 of wands, 9 of cups

Someone athletic and fit, quite muscular especially the abs, someone who looks confident, expressive face, what you see is what you get type of face. Sexy and revealing outfits. Bright smile. Androgynous look. Short hair. Think baddie rapper style sort of vibe. Creative style, bright colors. Artsy street fashion. aries, pisces, sagittarius

Turn offs: 3 of swords, 8 of pentacles, page of swords

Backstabbers, cheaters, hiding things from him, lack of trust in the relationship, someone who plays mind games. Immaturity, people who are too fidgety, who never stick to anything, can never finish what they start. Someone who on the contrary is so slow moving that you never see the end of it. Someone always in a bad mood, grumpy. negative gemini, pisces, sagittarius, virgo

Personality: the tower, 4 of swords, the emperor

Very strong explosive personalities. All or nothing. In your face. Very passionate and who would make a strong impression on him. Someone respectable, with a certain authority. Well established. Someone protective. Interestingly someone not too complicated intellectually, but who still is able to think by themselves, not easily influenced, but just not the type to overthink everything. A more simple type of mind, who maybe sees things in a more black and white sort of manner. Someone who would turn his life upside down, he likes the whole transformative process. aries, scorpio, leo, uranus, sagittarius

Appearance: the lovers, wheel of fortune, 2 of wands

His type changes depending on who he fancies. He’s going to find attractive traits he thought nothing of before just because his current lover has those traits. So he is rather open to different looks. But the physical attraction needs to be present, whatever that person looks like, he’s not attracted just to the mind. It’s more about chemistry and the spark than aesthetics.

Turn offs: the hierophant, queen of pentacles, page of wands

Narrow minded, overly traditional people who just think the way they do because that’s what they learned and they don’t look beyond that. People obsessed with money, possessions, the material life. On the other hand, people who have no stability, who are reckless, disconnected from reality and immature. negative taurus, capricorn, sagittarius, aries

JIMIN

Personality: queen of wands, 9 of pentacles, the devil

Someone fun and with a lot of humor. Joyful, who appreciate life to the fullest. Confident, sexy, an extrovert. Creative and enterprising. Who likes to party. He probably meet a lot of his lovers at parties too. He tends to be involved in rather toxic relationships though, it doesn't happen all the time, but sometimes he lets himself be used by people interested in his fame and money, by the luxury he can offer, narcissistic people who want to further their career or show him off and dominate him in the relationship. He's not fooled by them but he lets them because he feels lonely. And he can be a bit clingy and needy, so he needs to be more picky with his partners. leo, taurus, gemini

Appearance: queen of swords, 10 of wands, 3 of pentacles

Haughty looking, a bit vain, but beautiful. Cold beauties who play hard to get. Very stylish, trendy. Not too revealing but sexy. Charming voice and smile. Colorful, artistic, original fashion style. Elaborate make up and hairdo. Someone who could look a bit mean or out of reach at first. But at times he would catch their cute sides. I’m hearing “a tease”. Someone from his environment. capricorn, libra, scorpio, gemini, aquarius

Turn offs: 9 of wands, king of swords, the sun

Basically the same qualities he is attracted to but when it’s not fun anymore and it makes him feel powerless or disrespected, emasculated. Someone so on the defensive that all sense of attraction is lost. Someone so cold and detached, so inflexible there is no way to make them melt. Someone too domineering, who makes all the decisions and acts like the ultimate authority, hyper critical, all of which I feel must have happened a lot in his more toxic relationships. negative aries, leo, aquarius, capricorn

Personality: queen of wands, 10 of swords, the hermit

He could be attracted to people who went through a lot, but who present themselves in a very cheerful or confident manner, even though in private they may suffer quite a lot. Maybe he is attracted to wounded souls that he wants to save. Despite this, he is attracted first to someone successful. So if he’s going to pick this wounded soul, it will likely be amongst his own circle. Someone who would impress him. Passionate, independent. Someone who can manage on their own. Can be very fun and charismatic on the outside but is more of a loner and deeper than you’d think. capricorn, virgo, sagittarius, saturn

Appearance: 4 of wands, 9 of pentacles, queen of pentacles

Marriage material, very beautiful, looks play a big part in who he's going to go for, personality isn't enough. Sensual, sophisticated, nothing too flashy. Rich, warm earthy colors. Brown, green, beige, gold…Radiant complexion. Someone who looks like him or mirrors his looks, is on par with him when it comes to beauty. A certain fullness to their features, full hips, full lips, slim, beautiful radiant smile. Calm, soothing, slow energy. Someone who smells good. taurus, virgo, capricorn, libra

Turn offs: king of wands, ace of wands, 7 of wands

People who are loud and invasive, domineering, who want to decide for everyone. Self centered people. People who disrespect him. Impulsive, aggressive, childish people lead by their ego. People who are too easy to read, too spontaneous. fire signs

JUNGKOOK

Personality: queen of swords, 4 of cups, the moon

People who are a bit cold, hard to get to know, who have strong boundaries. Intelligent, quiet, subtle. Could even seem a bit bored at first, uninterested. Calm, mature, reserved, independent, a bit remote. People who are a bit mysterious. It’s possible he is attracted to those shy private cold types and projects some kind of romantic depth onto them, he thinks there is something hidden behind the closed off exterior when there isn’t, sometimes they are just empty inside. Most of the times (more and more as he matures) he is right though, and those people really are warmer than they appear. pisces, capricorn, virgo, aquarius

Appearance: the star, 6 of pentacles, knight of cups

Soft, calm, mature and collected. Kind eyes. He would be attracted to someone who is kind with animals or is helpful to others, especially people in needs. Natural beauty, “like a light in the darkness” sort of beauty, a more simple style, doesn’t need much to stand out, effortless beauty. Soft, soothing gestures. Someone who looks "skilled" and "talented" at what they do. virgo, pisces, libra

Turn offs: 8 of wands, 8 of swords, 5 of cups

People who try to disrespect him out of envy or because of their own poor self esteem. Impulsive, loud, reckless people. Stupidity. People who play the victim and whine all the time, chronic complainers. People who are loud, talk too much, reveal too much about themselves, people who only have one topic of conversation: themselves and all their problems. XD cancer, gemini, pisces, leo, aries

#bts #bts tarot #bts ideal type #jin #suga #j-hope #rm #jimin #v #jungkook #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #taehyung #bangtan #kpop #kpop tarot #bts reading #kpop reading

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theamberfist · 4 months

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The Common Enemy | Dad Alastor

Familial! Alastor is Reader's Adopted Dad from life

Description: When you bring home your new partner (platonic or romantic), neither your dad, nor your son are enthusiastic about it. So for the evening, they decide to put their hatred for each other aside and unite against their common enemy.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of murder, death, violence) (manipulation) (gender neutral reader) (Reader is Alastor's adopted child) (Reader is an adult) (Reader has an adopted son)

❀ This oneshot is based on the I'm a Grandpa! Headcannons I wrote a bit ago. I recommend reading them before this but you don't have to! ❀

❀ Reader has a partner in this; they are written as gender neutral and can be platonic or romantic! ❀

Words: 6,497

Alastor never thought he and Amon would ever agree on anything; aside from the fact that they hated each other, of course.

The young boy had been a complete nuisance to him since the day they'd met, but because you seemed to love him so much, he'd had to constantly play nice with the child and act like the doting 'grandfather' you expected him to be.

How he hated being called that.

The Radio Demon himself had adopted you when you were very young. He'd had his own reasons at the time (mainly entertainment value and the avoidance of suspicion being a single dad would bring him), but he'd always been an attentive and loving father to you, despite being a cannibal serial killer underneath it all.

Since you'd grown after his death, it seemed you'd chosen to follow in his footsteps and take in a child of your own; a choice he wished he could have prevented you from making. Not only that, but you seemed to expect Alastor to love the boy!

Amon was a disaster of a child. Where you had been well-behaved, kind, and polite, he growled at people like a feral cat and only ever answered to you. But on top of that, he hid his more violent tendencies so you'd think he was a better-behaved kid than he actually was; masking it all behind a sweet smile and a deep love for his parent.

It almost reminded Alastor of himself when he was younger, which was what he hated about it.

There was no room in the Radio Demon's heart (if he had one) for anything but his love for his child, entertainment, and the radio itself; and it seemed Amon felt much the same way about his parent as well.

Which meant the two of them were constantly competing for your attention, whether you knew it or not. Sometimes you would be tending to Amon; making him food or supervising him as he played or tucking him into bed, and your father would suddenly barge into the room claiming he had 'urgent news' or that whatever he needed your help with simply could not wait another second as he pulled you away from your son; not forgetting to smirk triumphantly at the child from behind your back as the two of you left.

Conversely, there had been plenty of times where you'd been enjoying tea with Alastor, listening to his radio broadcast, or exchanging gossip, and Amon had come running into the room claiming to be gravely injured and in need of your help, or that he'd had a nightmare or something else had occurred that needed your attention. Seeing that evil smirk reflected back at him by the child as the two of you would leave hand-in-hand always made Alastor grit his teeth.

More recently, though, a third party had surfaced that was now beginning to demand your attention more often than not; putting both grandfather and grandson on edge.

You had gotten a partner. Alastor wasn't sure when it had happened, considering he made it his job to oversee most of what you did in hell, even if he wasn't technically present (the power to manipulate shadows while remaining mostly undetected only seemed to become more useful now that his child was in hell with him). He wasn't able to get any answers out of Amon either, as expected, but it seemed that the boy was just as confused as him about how this could have occurred.

Nevertheless, you had a partner now. You'd broken the news to them both at dinner one night, not even realizing how the news sent them both silently spiraling in their seats.

Your father had pretended to be mostly unbothered, asking when that had happened. You'd explained that it was new; that you and your partner had only decided to call one another that recently after having hung out a few times. Amon seemed to choke on his food at that and you gently patted his back as Alastor nodded, calmly congratulating you while being sincere about none of it.

And now, a day later, you would be bringing your partner to dinner to meet the 'two most important people in your life.' Alastor also despised being called that. As your father; the very man that had raised you, shouldn't he have been the most important person in your life? It shouldn't have mattered that you'd now taken in this...parasite!

At present, both he and Amon stood in the living room of the home you all shared, waiting for you to come through the doors with your new partner. Based on the boy's tense muscles, Alastor gathered he hadn't been put in this situation before, meaning this was, indeed, the first serious partner you'd had.

And, with any luck, they would also be the last.

Neither of them seemed willing to take a seat as they waited, remaining with their eyes fixed on the door. Alastor knew you were about a block away from the house right now thanks to his shadows, but as for the kind of person you'd be bringing home, he would have to wait until you arrived to find out.

He glanced at Amon again, who had gotten himself dressed up and presentable for dinner on his own. When asked, though, Alastor would of course claim he'd helped the boy like he was supposed to have done. Thankfully, your son looked much more presentable than he had the day Alastor met him.

The Radio Demon silently sighed as he recalled how you and him had reunited in hell. After so long apart, it would have been a completely lovely moment, had the child not been there to ruin it.

..........

You and Amon had been walking down one of hell's many streets. Apparently, he wasn't very enthusiastic to meet whoever you'd been looking for because he dragged behind you slightly as he walked. Still, he remained silent and didn't complain so you let him get away with it; glancing back every few seconds to make sure he was still alright and following behind you, not that the kid would ever have dreamed of allowing himself to get separated from his parent.

At the time, Alastor had already managed to locate you through one of his shadows, and with the knowledge that you really were in hell now, had begun casually making his way in your direction as if he, too, was on a simple stroll.

That was when he'd finally gotten within your earshot and, knowing you would recognize his voice, turned to the nearest demon to ask them for directions he didn't actually need.

The second you heard him speak, you'd recognized him as your papa from when you were alive and had nearly teared up as you gazed at him. In turn, the Radio Demon's eyes had landed on you as his smile softened into something more genuine.

"Papa...?" You called, stopping in your tracks. Amon stopped too but kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to interact with whoever you were talking to. He was content just to trail after his parent like a lost puppy and prevent any harm from coming to them with his own hellish powers, it seemed.

Immediately, Alastor had appeared beside you and pulled you into a hug as you finally let the tears spill out of your eyes. "Finally, my little one, I've found you." He said softly as you leaned into the hug. Just like when you were alive, it seemed you were the only person the Radio Demon was so comfortable touching, and he held you close to him as he took in the fact that he really did have his child back after all this time. "How I've missed you..."

The moment was promptly interrupted, though, when he noticed the little boy standing directly behind you. Upon noticing his sudden silence, Amon had looked up to meet Alastor's eyes. Not only that, but he'd glared as if the Radio Demon had done something wrong by hugging his own child (Of course, Alastor didn't deny that he had done plenty of wrong things but this was certainly not one of them).

Seeing Amon like that immediately made rage bubble within the overlord and without a second thought, he'd created a tentacle that appeared from the ground and grabbed the little boy, pulling him away from you.

A random child following his own kid around had to have bad intentions, after all, so in his mind, he'd been protecting you.

You, of course, realized what was happening almost immediately and called out to Alastor. "Dad!" You shouted as you pulled away from the Radio Demon and turned back to your child, who was currently dangling upside down in the clutches of a black tentacle-thing. Amon, however, seemed less than concerned as he swung over the ground, simply snapping his fingers to create a black hole behind the two of you. It started sucking in everything nearby, aside from you, and Alastor's smile seemed to only get angrier as he was slowly pulled further and further from you now.

"Amon, what did I tell you about using your power in public?" You said as you placed both hands on your hips and turned back to the boy. The black tentacle holding him only seemed to tighten its grip now though; as if trying to squeeze the life out of him. Behind you, Alastor was having to grip a crack in the sidewalk to keep form being sucked into your son's pit of death, which only made his own power that much more violent as Amon was raised higher in the air; probably to then be dropped back to the ground again.

"Dad!" You called, but it fell on deaf ears, "Amon!" Neither one of them made another move or even looked at you and finally, your patience began to wear thin. Taking a step between the two of them so your body now blocked their views of one another, you put out both your hands. "Both of you; cut it out!" Your voice boomed and this time it was finally enough to make them both stop; freezing as their powers ceased. Amon fell to the floor now that there was no tentacle holding him up but was relatively unharmed. You sighed in exasperation.

Gesturing for your son to come over and stand by your side- which he promptly did- you turned back to the Radio Demon. "Dad," you spoke in a calmer tone now, "This is Amon; I adopted him when I was still alive." Alastor's eyes widened at that but you just turned back to the little boy.

"Amon, this is your grandpa."

"This is the guy you told me about?" The kid asked with a tone of slight disgust. At the moment, Alastor's own disdain wasn't being hidden very well either and you sighed.

"Yes; we're all family now." You made a point to look at your dad as you said that; who rolled his eyes but didn't protest. He was aware a good few years had passed since his death, and that you'd been left all alone since then, but a part of him had always hoped he'd never have to deal with you bringing in...extra family members like this. What was next; a pet dog? A spouse?

"We've been looking for you since we got down here," you went on to explain to the red deer-like demon, "I wanted you to get to meet your grandson." Internally, you'd hoped this meeting would have gone better than it did. After all, you'd always hoped for your dad to be proud of you; especially when it came to things as big as this. Alastor, noticing this, did his best to hide how much he hated the situation.

"I see," he said with a sigh before finally turning to Amon, who still stood by your side. Bending down, the Radio Demon held a hand out to the child. "Then I suppose it is a pleasure to meet you...child." He trailed off as Amon took his hand and shook it; his grip more firm than that of most adults. Neither of them enjoyed the physical contact with one another but so long as you were watching, they had to play along.

Alastor stood up straight now, turning his back to you so you wouldn't see how he immediately wiped his hand on his jacket. It was at times like this when he missed the days where he used to carry a pack of wet wipes for sanitation, like when you were little.

"Now, I suppose since you both are new, you haven't seen much of what hell has to offer!" He exclaimed, immediately putting on a cheerful attitude that made Amon's glare worsen, "Allow me to give you a personal tour!" You smiled at that, placing a hand on your son's shoulder. Of course, there were many things you and your father would have to discuss now that you'd been reunited, but for now, you just wanted to enjoy being able to be around him again after having lost that in life.

"We would love that, dad." Amon had to disagree, but he kept quiet about it, nonetheless. Alastor's grin widened and he immediately took you by the arm, ignoring how the young boy immediately moved around to walk on your other side.

And thus began a feud between grandfather and grandson.

..........

The door to your home opened now and both Alastor and Amon stiffened as you entered, followed by a sinner neither of them recognized. They looked nervous but your smile only widened as you shut the front door behind the two of you.

"And here they are!" You exclaimed with pride as you gestured to Alastor, then Amon.

"This is my dad and this is my son, Amon." You smiled brightly. The other sin waved awkwardly as the Radio Demon's head tilted in both intrigue and disgust. Amon crossed his arms but gave them a curt nod.

"N-nice to meet you both!" Your partner squeaked as you attempted to ignore the obvious fear in their voice. Of course, you briefed them about your family. Amon, as a sinner child with some extraordinary powers, could be quite intimidating, and Alastor was the feared Radio Demon himself. You'd made sure your partner knew what they were getting into beforehand, but nothing could have prepared them for quite how scary this moment would be.

"Pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" Alastor spoke, though his supposed enthusiasm didn't match his tone at all as he did so. The sinner beside you nodded and then Amon spoke up.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance!" He said, displaying all the manners you'd instilled in him over the years. Your smile widened, feeling slightly reassured by their welcomes. Though, you could still sense the growing tension in the air. Deciding not to let it fester, you turned to your partner.

"I still need to finish up making dinner; want to help me?" You asked. They nodded almost too eagerly, wanting nothing more than to be away from the rest of your family. Your dad's eyes narrowed at that.

"Need I remind you, dear, that I am hardly unequipped when it comes to the kitchen?" Alastor called as you began making your way to the door, followed by your partner. "I am more than happy to offer my assistance!"

"Or I can help!" Amon said, eager to prove himself as the more helpful one of the two.

"That's okay!" You told them with a kind smile, "I think we've got it handled. Why don't you two set the table and we'll meet you in the dining room in a few minutes?" Your partner looked beyond relieved at that, wanting a few minutes alone with you to discuss whether this night really was a good idea. Neither Amon, nor Alastor seemed enthusiastic about their assigned task but they didn't protest either; letting you head off into the kitchen and closing the door behind you.

Once you were gone, Alastor snapped his fingers, summoning a few of his shadow creatures that then ran off to set the dining room table like you'd requested. Amon ignored his antics, heading for the room himself, but with no intention of actually doing the chore you'd assigned. It wasn't lost on him how the shadow creature set every place at the table beside his own so he got to work preparing his own spot. That way, it wouldn't look like he'd been slacking.

Alastor came into the dining room too, but rather than helping out at all, he simply pressed his ear to the wall connected to the kitchen in the hopes of hearing your conversation with your partner. Sure, he could have sent a shadow in to listen to you, but then there would be too much risk of you noticing it and getting mad at him; something he would have preferred to prevent right now.

Once Amon's place at the table had been set, he went over to the opposite corner of the same wall and pressed his ear to it as well.

Not much could be heard from the kitchen, aside form your occasional laughter and light chatter with the sinner you now seemed so fond of. It made the Radio Demon's blood boil just hearing it, and judging by the clear glare on your son's face, Amon was no fan either.

"Why do they even need him?" He asked as he crossed his arms and stepped away from the wall now. "We don't need any more surprise family members." It wasn't lost on Alastor how the child glanced his way while stating the last part.

However, having confirmation of the child's dislike toward your partner did give him an idea.

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, sending a look at Amon, whose glare only deepened, "I suppose all we can do, however, is wait and hope they eventually break things off with one another." He gave a shrug before inspecting his nails in disappointment. Just as he'd hoped, that sentence was enough to plant the seed of an idea in your son's head.

"Or speed up the process." Amon said with a mischievous grin now. The Radio Demon made a show of raising his eyebrow at that.

"Why, are you suggesting we break them up ourselves? A scheme, perhaps?" He asked with fake surprise in his tone. Amon just nodded. Alastor pretended to pause for a moment, letting the boy continue.

"I don't like you," he admitted, "And I don't like having a grandpa now, but I like them even less." He tilted his head toward the kitchen, referring to your partner. "So I think we should call a truce; just long enough to get rid of them." Alastor's smile only widened. It seemed this boy really was like a younger version of himself, and right now, he was thankful for that.

"I suppose that would solve both of our problems," he admitted with a hum, "And for the record, I do not enjoy having a grandson now, either." There was another pause before he finally brought to light the question he'd been wanting to ask this whole time. "Alright, then how about we make a deal?" Green smoke appeared on his hand and Amon shielded his eyes form its bright light.

"I'm not supposed to make deals with anyone," he said carefully, glancing at the wall of the kitchen, where you were. Alastor supposed that, after having that rule drilled into you by him upon reaching hell, you'd passed it down to your son, too.

"This wouldn't be a deal for your soul," he clarified, "More like an...Agreement. You and I work together to break up their relationship tonight, and the obligation ends there. The catch is that you must be willing to work with me until then, dear grandson." The term of endearment felt more insulting to Amon than anything, but after a moment, he nodded, taking the hand of his grandfather reluctantly.

"Alright." He replied, and with that, the deal was (quietly) made.

..........

After what felt like an eternity, you and your partner came out of the kitchen, bringing the food you'd prepared into the dining room, where you set it on the table.

"We saved you a seat!" Amon exclaimed happily, pointing to the chair beside him. There were plenty of spaces at the table, so it wasn't as if he needed to do so, but you did as he said in order to please him anyway. The way they'd set it up, you sat between your son and your father with your partner directly across from you as if they were being interrogated. They chuckled awkwardly upon realizing this but didn't bring it up.

You started passing around the food, allowing your family members to take whatever they wanted and helping Amon serve himself as needed. Meanwhile, the glances exchanged between Alastor and the little boy went unnoticed by you.

"So, what is it you do, my esteemed fellow?" Alastor asked your partner, though his tone held anything but genuine curiosity. They gulped.

"W-well..." They began as you nodded encouragingly, "...I work in technology." That gave the Radio Demon pause and there was a slight static noise before he replied.

"I see." He said, "And what sort of technology do you work with, then?"

"M-mostly television," your partner admitted carefully, "I work for Channel 666, specifically." You could sense the growing tension at that; your dad had never exactly been fond of television. You'd grown accustomed to it, though, especially because Amon had always loved it. Turning to him, you expected a more positive reaction, but instead were met with an unamused ten-year-old.

"Sounds boring." He said and you nearly choked on your food. The Amon you knew would never have thought that; had something happened to your kid?

The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence, aside from your occasional contributions. Alastor was more than happy to divulge memories between you and him as he'd raised you, and Amon was always glad to talk about how much he loved his parent, but the second you tried to bring your partner into the conversation, they both promptly shut down.

It was very awkward.

Finally, everyone finished their food and Amon turned to you with an eager expression; as if he'd just remembered something very important.

"(Preferred Parent Name), remember that drawing I was working on earlier?" He asked as politely as possible as Alastor stared from behind your back.

"Yes, is it done already?" You asked, excited to see the final result of the project he'd been nurturing for several days already. The boy shook his head but pushed his chair back.

"No," he admitted, "But could you please come pose for it? I need the reference if I'm going to draw you, too!" He was already standing and taking your plate off the table, as well as his own. He deliberately ignored both Alastor and your partner's dishes as he awaited your response.

"Of course, sweetheart," you grinned, ruffling his hair as you pushed your own chair back and went to stand up, "Maybe we can all come see-" Before you finish your sentence, Amon interrupted.

"No!" He nearly shouted. Behind you, Alastor's smile tightened in a way that told the child to watch his tone when speaking to you. "I...Don't want anyone to see the unfished drawing but you." Amon said, gently taking your hand now. "Please? I promise it won't take long!"

You still seemed unsure, turning back to your partner, who was shaking their head urgently in the hopes it would prevent you from leaving them all alone with the Radio Demon. Unfortunately for them, though, your dad piped up before they could.

"Why not humor the boy, dear?" He asked with the soft, genuine smile he only ever extended towards you, "After all, I assure you I'm perfectly capable of entertaining our guest in the meantime!" He practically spat the word out but you didn't seem to notice as Amon continued tugging on your hand.

"Alright, alright," you told your son with a chuckle before glancing back at the terrified sinner, "I'll be right back!" You assured them, and then with that you finally disappeared into Amon's room.

Now left alone with your dad, your partner turned to face Alastor again, only to see the Radio Demon already staring them down with a sinister smile. His eyes had turned into radio dials that seemed to be glowing in the now dimly-lit room.

"Now that we're alone," Alastor spoke as radio static began seeping into his tone, "I believe there is something we must discuss."

The sinner jumped out of their chair and scrambled back as Alastor seemed to grow, climbing over the table towards them. Black tentacles started growing out of his back and there was a green glow wherever his overlord powers persisted.

"P-please, I've done nothing wrong!" They tried to shout, only to be silenced as one of the tentacles grabbed them and squeezed around their body. Alastor was towering over them now as he stared into their eyes with his own.

"What you've done is get involved with a family in which you do not belong." He snarled. His antlers, which had previously been small, had grown off his head now and tapped against the ceiling with how tall he was. "So, if you value your life, here's what you're going to do..."

Before the Radio Demon could finish, though, the sound of a door opening nearby caught his attention and in an instant he'd reverted back to normal, standing over your partner as their shaking body collapsed on the ground. They gasped for breath; unable to take their eyes off him for fear he would kill them if they did.

"My dear!" Alastor called as he noticed you now coming back from Amon's room, followed by the young boy, "Finished his drawing already, has he?"

"Only the sketch," the child replied calmly. A whole conversation was exchanged between the two of them through their eyes, with the Radio Demon questioning why they hadn't been gone longer and Amon seeming having been unable to keep you distracted much more. "But it will be enough for me to work with when I feel more inspired."

You glanced at your partner, who was still laying on the floor, and raised an eyebrow. Seeing the realization begin to appear in your eyes, Alastor promptly spoke. "I was just helping this fine fellow off the floor!" He explained as he extended his cane towards the sinner now, "It seems they are quite clumsy." He stared into your partner's eyes, daring them to say anything other than an agreement. Luckily, they seemed to get the message.

"Thank you..." They managed as they grabbed ahold of the end of your father's cane and allowed him to pull them off the ground. He nodded in response.

"Well, I'm glad you two are getting along..." You replied, though you were clearly suspicious. You weren't an idiot; you knew how your father was. And though you hoped he would have gotten over some of his overprotective tendencies since you were an adult (and a parent) yourself now, you wouldn't have put it past him to be plotting something.

Before you could think much more about it, though, Alastor spoke up again.

"While we're on the topic," he began, bringing up a topic you certainly had not been on, "I wanted to show you where I decided to hang that painting; the one you so generously gifted me last week!" He didn't even need to fake an enthusiastic tone at the memory; after all, his own child had gone out of their way to buy him such a nice piece of artwork simply because they'd thought he would like it! He was touched.

"Oh," you said, remembering that he'd mentioned wanting to find a place to hang it up, "I'm sure wherever you picked is great, dad." You glanced at your partner again and Alastor could tell you didn't want to leave them alone a second time, but he wasn't about to back down either.

"Why, thank you, dear, but this is your home too! I want to make sure you appreciate my interior decoration skills as much as I do!" He exclaimed, "It had slipped my mind before, but now that I recall, it simply cannot wait!" He started heading for the hallway again, gently taking you by the arm. You sighed but didn't protest.

"Alright." You said before looking back to your partner and son, "Amon, be nice, okay? I'll be right back!" And with that, you disappeared once again.

Your partner sighed in slight relief. Though they could tell your son didn't like them any more than your dad did, he at least seemed less dangerous than the Radio Demon, they thought.

The boy's immediate glare told them they'd likely thought wrong, though, and he snapped his fingers, immediately creating a black hole behind them that began sucking nothing in except the sinner themselves. A targeted black hole, one could call it.

"I don't like you." The child told your partner, "I'll make your death look like an accident." He was, of course, very good at doing so. He'd hidden almost all his violent tendencies from you for years, after all, and he wasn't about to let his dear parent find out he would be behind this, either.

You would definitely ground him for life if you did.

"Please, Amon!" The sinner cried as they held onto the carpet for dear life, "Just tell me what you want! I could be the best second parent you could ask for!" The boy's expression darkened at that and the black hole seemed to only get stronger.

"I don't want another parent!" He shouted, glad Alastor was using his powers to prevent you from hearing any of this from the other room, "The one I have is perfect! I don't need grandpa, and I don't need you!" His power's increased strength was enough to finally break your partner's grip on the carpet now and they went flying back towards the black hole.

Just before they were engulfed, though, the hallway door opened once again and Amon was forced to make his powers disperse in order to prevent you from seeing the scene.

"(Preferred Parent Name)," He said with a smile as he turned to you, "How was Grandfather's painting placement?" Alastor's eyes narrowed at the title but he said nothing as he followed you into the room. Unfortunately, he could only make the viewing of a painting take so long, and you two had been back before he'd wished it.

"Perfect, as expected." You grinned back, then noticed your partner on the floor, "Did you fall again?"

They were still shaking slightly but they gulped at the sight of Amon's dark glare. "They seem to lack spatial awareness tonight," the boy said with a shrug before stepping forward and offering his hand to the sinner. "Here, please let me help you up." Since his back was turned to you, your son smiled evilly down at your partner and they couldn't bring themselves to accept his offer, even if it would upset you.

Pushing themselves off the floor on their own, they drew in a breath and then turned to you. "Can we talk in private?" Your eyebrows raised at that but you nodded, gesturing for them to follow you into the hallway. They did so, scurrying after you as they eyed Alastor cautiously.

Once the two of you had disappeared, the Radio Demon turned to Amon with a satisfied smile, both of them knowing exactly what this would be about.

"What is it?" You asked your partner with concern. They took a deep breath, remembering that you'd warned them your family could be eccentric. They'd been prepared for some weirdness but hadn't expected anything like this.

"I don't think I can do this," they admitted, your face immediately falling at the words. "I can't get along with your family."

"You promised you'd try," you said, feeling very dejected, "I told you who my dad was and you said it didn't matter!"

"That was at the beginning of our relationship!"

"So?" You asked.

"So, I didn't plan for us to be this serious!" Your partner finally replied, "I didn't think I'd end up having to meet your family!" You froze at that. Meanwhile, Alastor and Amon, who had their ears pressed to the hallway door, both exchanged angry glances at the idea of anyone daring speak to you like that.

"You told me you wanted us to be permanent," you said in as calm a tone as you could manage.

"I do," your partner replied, gently taking both your hands in their own.

"Then...Can you please try to get along with them?" You asked, "They both mean the world to me." Your partner sighed. They'd known this about you since before you two got into a relationship. Your family was too important for you to ever brush them aside, and if they couldn't make that relationship work, they knew there was little chance their relationship with you would either.

"Fine." They said finally, "I'll try." After all, you would be with them for the rest of the evening, wouldn't you? It wasn't like your dad or son would have another chance to try and kill them with you present.

Outside, Alastor and Amon's smiles both widened creepily. Had your partner simply told you what they'd done, they knew you would have believed it. After all, they had less than perfect reputations when it came to violence. But since they'd chosen to keep quiet about all that, it seemed the game was still on.

"Thank you." You smiled, pulling the sinner into a warm hug. They took it in for a moment and then you pulled away. "I'm going to go to the restroom, so please try to at least talk to them while I'm gone?"

The second you said that, your partner's face fell. They were so dead. You didn't seem to notice the fear that appeared on their face as you turned and headed for the restroom. They gulped, debating whether to heed your request and face the family members again or stay right here where it was assumably safe until you returned.

Their choice seemed to be made for them, though, when the door to the hallway slid open and an inky black tentacle moved toward them. They wanted to scream, but before they could, it grabbed them and squeezed once again, dragging them back into the living room where it closed the hallway door behind it.

There, both Alastor and Amon stood with sinister smiles as they watched the tentacle hold your partner up. Amon snapped his fingers again and another black hole appeared; this time directly below where the sinner was dangling. They let out a cry of fear, only for it to be cut off by the pressure of the black tentacle.

"We tried to warn you to get lost." Amon said as he crossed his arms in supposed disapproval, "Now you have to pay for it."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Alastor added as his eyes became radio dials once again. With that, the tentacle let go of your partner and they were dropped into the black hole. They screamed as the bottom half of their body was enveloped by it and they were about to fall all the way through when the door to the hallway opened once again and everything returned to normal with your partner panting on the floor.

"(Preferred Parent name)!" Amon called as he ran over and hugged you for no apparent reason. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him before looking up at Alastor and your partner.

"Everything alright?" You asked. The Radio Demon was about to reply but the sinner spoke before he could get the chance.

"No!" They shouted, "Everything is most certainly not alright!" They stood from where they'd been laying on the ground; still panting heavily. "I can't take it anymore! I've been nothing but cordial to these...Monsters! And they still hate me! I'm done!" They stomped towards the front door as your eyes widened.

Again, Alastor felt they'd missed the big point of him and your son having tried to kill them but it only worked in favor of his plan so he supposed he could let that slide.

"What do you mean?" You asked, following after your partner as you let go of Amon.

"We're done!" They finally shouted, turning back to you, "Don't contact me again; all of you are insane!" They gestured to the three of you before turning and slamming the front door behind them. You froze for a few seconds as they left.

After a moment, though, the tears you'd felt coming on finally fell and you sunk to your knees. Immediately seeing their opportunity, Alastor and Amon moved in to hug you; one of them on either of your sides.

"It's okay, (Preferred Parent Name)," the little boy comforted as he leaned into your right shoulder, "They seemed like a meanie anyway!" You chuckled through your sobs at that. Leave it to your kid to always notice those red flags before you did.

"The boy is right, darling," Alastor added, "And you still have your family here to support you! When you feel a bit better, I'll make your favorite recipe, hm?" You sniffled at that before nodding.

"Thanks, dad." You said softly as you leaned into your father's embrace. Amon leaned into yours too and you held him in a similar way to how you would a giant stuffed animal. "You two are the best...I guess that's why you're my two favorites, huh?"

For once, neither of them felt anger at having to share that title. You closed your eyes as you wiped some of the tears form your cheeks and Amon exchanged a glance with the Radio Demon, who seemed surprisingly content. Like before, no words were needed between them to convey what they wanted to say, and after a minute, Alastor nodded down at the boy approvingly.

It would likely be the last time he ever did so, and soon they would go back to their usual dynamic, but at least for tonight, you'd managed to bring the two of them together. It seemed having a grandson wasn't the worst thing; Alastor realized.

If nothing else, the little boy had proved himself quite useful in the face of a challenge like today, and he could appreciate that.

He still hated being called 'grandpa,' though.

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writers-potion · 5 months

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when writing enemies to lovers, how to I avoid the trope of “hes mean to me but it’s okay because he likes me” and make the mmc redeemable after being mean, because so far all I have is have her be just as bad 😭 (I don’t know if I worded that right)

Redeeming The Bad Boy Character

Drop Subtle Hints of Redeemability

Okay. Rule Number 1 for romance heroes: They need to be LOVABLE. Full stop.

Before you start coming up with possible justifications, place the actions of your bad boy on the emotional balancing scale of your girl. Do his real feelings shine through the meanness on the surface?

What readers usually DON’T want to see redeemed is:

Outright lying/manipulating the girl

Being obsessive and controlling

Physical/emotional bullying (i.e. stuff that real bullies would do)

“Crossing the line”: This will depend on character - like insulting a disabled sister the girl character feels super protective towards (like NO PLEASE NO)

Even if the “enemy” phase of your romance is meant to be intense, your bad boy needs to display “goodness of heart”. This is easy if you’re switching POVs or 3rd person omniscient where you can show him secretly beating himself in regret, trying to make up with her behind her back although she doesn’t know, etc.

Even if you’re doing the girl’s 1st person POV, drop subtle hints that the guy character isn’t as mean as the girl is made to believe:

Him having the reputation with friends/teachers/neighbors for being kind

Him being awarded in school for good deeds

The girl’s friend telling her stories about how the guy actually seems nice. If this is a YA setting, you can even get away with explicit comments like, “maybe you’re judging him too hard”, etc.

A good example is Bryce in <Flipped>:

Bryce is an innately shy middle schooler who finds himself inadvertently influenced by his toxic dad, who looks down on the girl (Juli) and her family.

By flipping over to Bryce’s POV, his reluctance for the “mean” things he’s done is revealed (he’s kinda scared of his dad + he’s never been taught better)

Eventually, Bryce grows up and learns to treat Juli better.

If you’re going to use family history/backstory as justification, remember:

The backstory doesn’t justify anything by just existing. That’s called an excuse.

The bad boy needs to have a point of realization and grow up, moving away from his dark past into the light, towards the love interest.

Misunderstanding

Another way to redeem a bad boy character is to shift some blame on the female character too. In fact, every story has two sides - the girl has her own goals and biases.

For example:

Academic or workplace rivals: since the girl has to compete with him, she will tend to take offhand comments offensively, etc.

A third person badmouthing the buy deliberately to the girl

The girl overhearing the guy saying something bad about her (which wasn’t in fact the case) and being determined to not like anything he does after

Make Him Suffer

If you want to give your girl some backbone, just make her fight back! “Fighting back” can be in different forms:

Ignoring the guy outright

Just giving her another potential love interest who treats her better

She literally correcting him with awesome logic and maturity that make him shut up

She crying (either out of madness or sadness), then proceeding to avoid him actively

Write about how your bad boy will eventually realize his mistakes and come around after he takes a real blow. Think about why your bad boy is being mean in the first place: it’s to get her attention. Tit-for-tat can work for female characters who have some teeth, but doing the same things he does would mean that she IS giving him attention, which ironically fulfills his initial motives.

Personally, I think the best way to “fight back” is to no longer give him the attention, hinting that the girl wishes to move on from this unhelpful relationship status. This will set off warning signs in the MMC’s head that if he doesn’t change his ways, she would be gone for good.

The point is, if your girl cannot tolerate something, you can’t make her sit around. If your boy is mean and immature, she needs to be the one to take the mature step - and walk away.

Apologizing in the Other Character’s Style

What the MMC will need to do to gain the girl’s attention back will depend on what she thinks, but this will often involve:

Explaining his true motivations/resolving the misunderstanding

A genuine apology

Spending some time apart during which he can reflect and make up to her

Undoing the damage, if this is possible

If she’s been just as bad as him on occasions, make her reciprocate the apology! Re-establish healthy boundaries that didn’t exist before, and show how they stick to it.

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almightygremlinblob · 4 months

Text

A Honey Trap For The Butterfly

Nanami Kento was everything you needed in a therapist, only as long as you ignored the sinking feeling in your gut.

Even tho there's nothing describing the act of s*x here, it's still a yandere fic - so minors and those not comfy with yandere stuff DNI and have a nice day! 🫶🏽

Word Count: (will update when life stops life-ing lmao)

⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: UNBETA'D, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Yandere!Therapist Nanami Kento, Gender!Neutral Reader (and no bits mentioned), Modern!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Yandere, behaviour that SHOULD NOT be tolerated irl, Nanami says some very comforting shit to manipulate you, no curses.

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️️: Unhealthy power dynamics, HEAVY and subtle emotional manipulation, implied stalking, mention of sexual activities, professional boundaries are OUT the window.

When your gut tells you something is wrong, one tends not to believe it at first, and this causes you to dismiss any further warnings.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Sorry, I-I'm just..."

"There's no need to push. Only if you're ready."

"No, I-I'd like to."

Therapy was a tricky thing. There was the problem of getting the right medication for you. There was also the problem of finding the right therapist for you. Which is why some people - like you - search for a very a long time until you finally found one that clicked. Nanami Kento, who was practically everything you needed in a therapist.

"The nightmares are about your family, yes? They say nightmares are ways for the mind to release overwhelming emotions. Can you tell me more about them?"

"Y-yes, I...these nightmares are always the same. My family talking about me behind my back, it's...I feel alienated."

"Hm...it's no wonder these nightmares always coincide with upcoming family gatherings." He scribbles something down, and turns his full attention towards you. "If you're okay with sharing, what makes you think they're alienating you?"

"I...now that you mention it Doctor, it does seem to coincide, but...I-I don't believe I've mentioned...how did you-"

"Ah, it's just an observation." He waves his hand dismissively. "And I told you, you can call me Kento."

-------

"I-I'm so sorry!" You apologize profusely, embarrassed and just a little defeated when you turn up short at the cashier of your favorite coffee shop. There's a brisk walk, and someone familiar drops some change at the cashier for you. Though being payed for was a surprise, the person paying was not. It was Nanami, who you seemed to run into a lot. So much, that bumping into your therapist outside of your sessions was almost the norm. Something about living nearby.

"Oh, Doctor, I-I'm really sorry about this!"

"Oh don't fret, it was only a few bucks." He offers his hand. "Come, sit with me."

You're taken aback. It's not like you didn't WANT to. Nanami was a very attractive man; well built, broad shoulders, and such a handsome face. But, still, he was your therapist. There is a very faint alarm, all the way at the back of your mind, that makes you feel just a little bit uneasy at the proposal.

"A-are you sure this...I mean, i-is this okay?"

"Of course." When he intertwines his fingers with yours, his face and eyes and words are completely welcoming. Laced with nothing but care in order to hide the ugly side just waiting to devour you.

"It's just coffee, love."

-------

"I think last session was a very eventful one. You did a lot well this week. I'm quite proud of you."

"Still...I-I don't think it was right for me to just cut everyone off like that. Now I don't have anybody..."

"You have me. They don't care about you." The fingers that brush your cheek are too gentle for how dangerous they feel. "You know this...it's why you came to me in the first place. They never cared, not truly. Not like I do."

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but you made the right choice. Now..." His warm and strong hands linger on top of yours, as he hands you the paper for your medications. "See you for lunch after?"

"I just can't believe they'd do that to me..." You try and keep yourself from crying any more. "They're my family. Why would they go around spreading rumors like that! I nearly lost my job..."

"Hey, hey...don't worry about them anymore, okay? Just leave them behind." Nanami gently cups your face with his hand. "You don't deserve to be burdened with dead weight."

"It's okay. You'll be okay." His eyes go over to your lips, as he tilts your head to better align with his. The room suddenly feels awfully quiet, too constricting, when his lips meet yours. "I'm so proud of you. You know that, right?"

-------

"I think I've come a long way." You sigh and laugh softly. "I'd like to celebrate but...I-I'm not sure how. I'd like to minimize my spending..."

"Well, I'd have to agree, you ARE making fantastic progress." He takes your hand in his. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to celebrate it with you. I have a few ideas we could try."

"Oh, of course!"

"Date night." He brings your knuckles to his lips. "Your apartment."

Nanami stayed over that night. Worshipped your body as if he was made for it. He was a wonderful lover but, the entire experience left you feeling wrong, somehow.

-------

"I don't know what to feel...I just...they're all dead. My family, they're all..." It was all too much, and Nanami wraps his arms around you. "I know what they did but, still, I..."

"Oh, love...it's okay. Let me handle everything; planning, funeral expenses. Everything."

"Kento, that...that's too much-"

"Nothing in the world is too much for you, my dear." He holds your face when you start to cry again. "I would do anything for you."

When he looks at you, his eyes show a devotion and adoration so strong it borders insanity. You'd never expect this 'gentle giant' to be the one that caused your family's deaths. It was nothing you've ever seen from him, and it unsettles you.

"Anything. You know that, right?" He seals it with kiss on the lips, just a bit too harsh, just a bit too possessive. "Stay here, with me - where you belong. Don't worry anymore."

"You're home now."

When your gut tells you something is wrong, one tends not to believe it at first, and this causes you to dismiss any further warnings. It is just one of the many ways that humans self-sabotage. Though, for many manipulators, the intention is to make their victim do so by putting up a welcoming and disarming front - a perfect honey trap.

Writing this was a TRIP man, ughk. It's so tame and light as a yandere fic but something about writing subtle manipulation just makes my skin crawl the most. 😭 Anyways, hope you enjoy! ✨🫰🏽

#jjk x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #yandere nanami kento #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere nanami #yandere jjk #yandere nanami x reader #soft yandere #nanami kento x gender neutral reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #my writing

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har-rison-s · 10 months

Text

fear or endearment | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: hello people of tumblr. yes, i'm getting on the train of writing for coryolanus snow (save me). he's just so writeable before the 10th games, i feel. after that i lose any touch with him, honestly, idk. bad man. welp! enjoy this little short blurb i thought of while i was at work yesterday (no connection, tho, just day dreaming). happy reading <3

warnings: none except snow's manipulative, calculating personality; this is pre-10th games snow btw

word count: 1,894

gif credit goes to owner <3

“you only like me because i bring you free stuff,” she says, her lips wearing a smile that holds the sadness of the half-joke she just made. it’s only an ironic way of saying the truth, and she thinks him a fool not to admit it. her hands get busy with carefully emptying the messenger bag full of food leftovers and pastries that the kitchen in her house deemed as unworthy for her family.

“not true,” coryolanus says with a gentle shake of his too-perfect head, eyes looking at her instead of raking over the gifts she’s brought. they’ll keep him and his family away from hunger for a week at least, if they plan carefully, “i like you regardless of that.”

she shakes her head with more conviction. it’s one thing to lie to himself about it, it’s another to tell the lie to her face. her face that has seen the brutal truth in people, her eyes that can see through any facade. it’s the reason she doesn’t watch television unless she absolutely necessarily has to – the facade built up around the ugly truth makes her sick to her stomach. “oh, yes, and my dream is to become a peacekeeper.” her sharp tongue responds.

coryolanus considers her words and the sarcastic look on her face, the faint grin she wears. he doesn’t like being confused, and yet she makes him feel that way very often. sarcasm is her companion in every conversation, and coryolanus suspects he might be one of the only people in the world she shows her bare soul and heart to, and even then she shows very little. her rebellious nature, though, is what makes him worried for her. sometimes he thinks he ought to follow her in her ways, even though it wouldn’t be easy. it would also be going against everything he’s fought so hard to have, and would continue to fight for.

coryolanus shakes his head in confusion, his cheeks blushing just the faintest tone of pink and curls trembling along with his head movements. she laughs fruitfully at knowing she made him confused, her head hanging back for a moment. she closes her bag, its contents emptied on coryo’s kitchen table, and looks down on them. “i know you wonder why i say things like that,” she looks up at him again, and coryo nods, his lips bit back in a faint smile, “can’t help it. must be some security mechanism in me, to joke or draw irony in serious matters.” she shuffles herself onto the table’s surface, now getting the view of coryo in front of her instead of having to wring her neck around every time to just look at him standing beside her. coryo nods again and smiles wider. “sometimes i want to shut up, but i just can’t seem to. and that tends to get me in trouble quite a lot. you know that well.”

ah, yes, her rebellious nature that gets in the way of her education and reputation up-keeping. he might just be her only friend at school, because no one wants to associate themselves with such a rebellious girl as her. sejanus has been nice to her, but coryo guesses he lacks the courage to talk to her. coryo makes a grin and takes a step closer to her. her genuine eyes find his again and she searches them for some bit of truth. it’s hard for most people to guess what he’s thinking, but not for her. “i like you for that,” coryolanus tells her, and she furrows her eyebrows because by looking into is eyes she knows it’s the truth that he’s telling.

“hmm,” she just hums in surprise, “i know it upsets you, too. and that you worry about me, and that’s why you get me out of trouble, even if you don’t have to. you and your perfect attendance and grades, perfect attitude.” she counts off, and it almost sounds like she despises him for all these things. coryo shakes his head, eyelids fluttering while looking at her still.

“you of all people know how imperfect i am,” he says, “look where i have to live,” he gestures around the kitchen. but her smile drops, “it’s almost nothing compared to your place.”

“where we live doesn’t say much about us,” she responds, “so many people at school think i’m this spoiled princess of the capitol living in my great mansion with mother and father.” she rolls her eyes. “only thing perfect about me are my grades, and even they are being pulled down because of my attitude.” she sighs. coryo nods, understanding, and stays close to her. “i’m really a rebellious child whose parents hardly have patience for. it’s not like i try to get into trouble, it just so happens that my opinions don’t go well with everyone else’s. i know i’m not the only one, but i might be the only one with guts to say those opinions.” she shrugs. “you know that associating with me can get you into trouble, too.”

coryo nods. “but it hasn’t this far,” he responds with a kind smile as the two of them look at each other. she wishes she could respond with a smile half as true as his current one, but her character has been beaten down. her eyelids flutter and she looks down at her hands.

“why do you get me out of trouble, then? why do you worry about me?” she asks quietly. “we both know you shouldn’t.”

“you don’t believe me when i say it,” coryo says, reminding her of the beginning of their conversation. she looks up at him again, chin raised. he’s wounded by her disbelief.

“what?” she asks in half a whisper. coryo tilts his head, his facial expression saying that his answer should be obvious. his hand hesitantly reaches out to hers in her lap, gently coating her intertwined palms. she’s almost forgot how to breathe. he’s never touched her hands before. it’s always a hand at the small of her back, on her shoulder, arms around her. never the hands. it almost seems like he was saving them for... something.

“i like you,” coryo says just as quietly, hand over hers and eyes looking at her, this intense emotion suddenly between them in the air, “not just for the free stuff. it’s the depth of your heart and kindness,” one i know i’ll never have, “and your courageous nature.”

she smiles. “you have courage, too, coryo,” she tells him quietly, and finds herself lost in him now that he’s so close to her. his ice-cold heart warms at her using the nickname for him. she intertwines their fingers now, raising the formed knot higher between them, so that it would enter their line of vision. coryo looks at it, and his heart lurches in his chest, making him feel nearly on the point of fainting, “you do,” she says again, “you just need to... channel it in the right direction.” she utters in a the quietest of whispers.

coryolanus doesn’t dare a make a noise even though his throat is dry and he needs to clear it, but he fears anything louder than a whisper might ruin everything, even his heart feels like it’s hammering too loud in his chest, “like this?” he asks in a faint voice, and she furrows her eyebrows at the weird question, but doesn’t get to doubt it because coryo is pressing his lips to hers, adding even more value to their moment together.

for a person who is always able to calculate things to come, she is surprised because this she didn’t calculate at any point. but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t waited for him to do this, to take a next step, for at least a few weeks now. her courage faded away any chance she had to do the same, to be the one who takes the first step.

she grips his hand between them even harder, and her other hand goes to cradle the side of his face, but after the first few kisses their hands untie and she uses both of hers to hold his face, while coryo is too shy to touch her. she pulls away, both of them out of breath, and they look at each other. stunned. thrilled. without words to say about what they just did.

“yeah, like that,” she finally breathes in response, always having something cheeky up her sleeve, “only...” she takes both of his hands in hers and places them on her waist, where they fit nearly like a magnet. coryo breathes a quiet sigh of relief, it was where he thought of embracing her, but somehow lacked the guts to do so. looking at each other, she nods at him and coryo makes a small smile. “i know you like me now,” she says quietly, and coryo even chuckles, “you wouldn’t be so nervous about me otherwise.”

he nods, succumbing to the defeat of her cracking him, and stands between her legs that dangle off the side of the table. his hands on her fit right in place, both of them feeling that they’re always meant to be there. “sometimes, uh...” coryo shakes his head, a little nervous to say what he wants to, but she urges him on with her hand on his cheek serving a comforting touch, and he blushes when he looks at her, “sometimes i don’t know if i like you or i’m scared of you.” he admits.

it makes her laugh out loud, as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard someone say. her head hangs low, and then rests against his chest once her laughter has started to subside. coryo feels embarrassed that he admitted that now, but he wraps his arms around her nonetheless. he knows she means no harm.

she looks up at him, hands on his chest, and gets real close to his face again, “you better figure it out real soon, coryo,” she tells him, “i don’t want to be with someone who’s scared of me. i want them to be with me because they like me.” she says truthfully and coryo nods. he’s never really been around a girl or woman who’s made him feel like she has. it’s hard to explain, but her rebellious nature, her unpredictability are what scare him, but also what endear her to him. make him like her so much. makes his heart jump out of his chest when she speaks against a professor or simply flees a classroom.

“i like you,” coryo assures her, “and i’m glad you want to be with me, too.” he says and they smile at each other. she nods at him and leans into his chest into a long embrace neither of them really want to get out of.

coryolanus is scared of the consequences of her actions, scared for where it will make him end up. but life with her has colour. he doesn’t exactly want to give that up because he might get in trouble. he finds a way out of it with his wit and charm, anyhow. whatever problems she could get him into by being herself he can easily get out of, so maybe taking risks isn’t that deadly of a thing. not for her.

permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @xoxobabydolls @corallyink @rottenstyx

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part 2

#har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s work #coryolanus snow #coryolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfic #coryo snow fanfic #coryo snow x fem!reader #coryo snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

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secondhand-snow · 7 months

Text

a body of impulses

chapter 4: staining the future

lukas matsson x f!roy reader (succession)

★chapter 3★

wc: 8.6k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, roman roy as his own warning, mention of phone sex, manipulation, praise, no use of y/n

summary: The fall back to the real world after your time spent with Lukas hits you hard. But your family hits you harder, and they hit to kill.

author's note: snow writes a fic without graphic smut?!? insanity. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

Logan’s birthday is… Logan’s birthday. The day is always celebratory, and always ends in trouble. Chaos tends to be inevitable when your family is together, like two comets on a collision course, helpless to stop the impending crash. Even intimate get-togethers are no exception. You were fully prepared for this, readying your mediating skills and considering any possible issues that could come up at the event. Until, your siblings inform you that they will not be attending. On one hand, it’s a shock. Missing something as important as your father’s birthday because of a fight seems unreasonable, especially when you were so sure you would see them in person again. On the other hand, the lack of their presences could avoid the conflict you were expecting. Either way, your focus shifted from getting ready to stop blow out fights to preparing to answer nosy questions on the whereabouts of your family.

It was nice to talk to your siblings after weeks of no contact. The discussions you had were usually meager, straight and to the point. But all the same, it gave you some sense of normalcy in your vastly changing life. That and the less you spoke to them, the less you had to lie to them about what you were up to. Between Lukas and work, it felt like you could barely get out a sentence without potentially compromising an immense secret. You’d gotten uncomfortably close to disclosing your relationship a couple times, both with Roman, both due to your increasingly frequent trips to Sweden. Luckily, you’d been trained enough in keeping the peace to brush over the details of your life and get him to talk about himself, the suspicion leaving his mind almost instantly.

In addition to rekindling your relationship with your siblings, a strange sort of friendship was beginning to form between yourself and Tom. You were the only two in the immediate family that hadn’t jumped ship yet, well, besides Greg. Since he wasn’t really speaking to Shiv, and Roman and Kendall would rather die than see his face, you were the only one Tom could go to for a genuine conversation. Unless he wanted to talk to Gerri, Karl or Frank, but Tom preferred speaking to someone who wasn’t at least 20 years older than himself. Because of this, the two of you began bonding in a way you hadn’t had the chance to before. When Roman wasn’t making crass jokes over your shoulder, influencing your opinion with his humor, Tom wasn’t actually that bad.

He was more down to Earth than your siblings. He had grown up rich, but not your kind of rich, and it gave him a sort of level headedness that you didn’t see often. His jokes were pretty funny, and his midwest accent gave his speech a natural formality that was strangely captivating. You liked talking to Tom, you even began to see him as a friend during the months after the GoJo deal began. Not only was he sociable, he was actually good at what he did. You’d always thought that he got his position through his relationship with Shiv, though when you began working with him on the GoJo deal you saw that his work ethic had a genuine quality to it. He could be a little brutal at times and looked out for himself before others, but who wasn’t in this business. By the time Logan’s party came up you found yourself honestly enjoying his company.

When you arrive at Logan’s penthouse, the party has already begun. There’s a good crowd of people mingling, mostly executives from Waystar’s corporate world and old business associates of your Dad’s. You’re happy to see Colin, who you greet with a friendly smile, and annoyed to see Kerry, who you give a tight lipped grin. Your dad is at least somewhat happy to see you, giving you the rare hug in welcome.

Buying gifts for a man that has everything is incredibly difficult, and after the watch situation from last year, you were even more terrified of Logan’s reaction to your present. You had settled on purchasing him a Navy medal of honor from WWI to add to his collection and wrapped it weeks in advance, trying to push the worry from your mind for as long as possible. As he opens the present now, his reception is better than you hoped for. Your dad offers you a small thanks and notes that he will add it to one of his display cases later. Internally you doubt that he will, but at least he was kind to you publicly. With another quick hug and a promise to see him again in a bit, you enter the throng of people once more and begin looking for a drink.

It’s really only natural that you gravitate to Tom, joining his side with a glass of champagne as soon as you spot him in the mass of suits. He cracks a few jokes, makes a few comments on work, but mostly you just stand together and look engaged in conversation, successfully deterring any onlookers from bothering you to ask prying questions. You make frequent trips to the bathroom. Not to actually use the toilet, but to answer your messages from Lukas. It was too much of a chance to open his texts around others at the party, since so many of them knew him well. He knows your at Logan’s birthday, he even considered attending himself before getting too busy with work. His goofy texts brighten up the otherwise dull day, giving you something to look forward to and keeping you awake amongst the bland chatting you’re obligated to engage in.

It’s after one of these trips to the bathroom that the first sign of discord begins to creep into the party. It starts with Cousin Greg, who’s chattering incessantly in Tom’s ear as you approach the pair.

“-I’m kidding, I really do like her.” You seamlessly attach yourself to the conversation as you join them, keeping pace as you begin to walk from room to room.

“Like who? The blonde teeny bopper you brought?”

“Yeah!”

“What, did you meet her on Raya or something?” You get a small laugh from Tom at that, the three of you pausing your stroll for a moment.

“She’s used all the display towels in the bathroom and now they’re sopping wet, she’s gabbling about herself and posting on social media.” Greg scoffs a bit at Tom’s critique, looking around to be sure the blonde was nowhere nearby. “She’s asking people personal questions- and she’s wolfing all the canapes like a famished warthog!”

“People are overreacting, okay? She brought a normal kind of handbag!”

“Greg, the massive purse is one thing. Posting pictures of the inside of my father’s house on Instagram is actually incredibly invasive. She’s basically a security risk at this point.”

“You are a laughing stock of polite society.” As Tom chimes in, the unmistakable face of Greg’s date begins to approach you, a look of concern on her face. Tom whispers as he finishes his comment. “You’ll never go to the opera again.”

“Maybe- we should go?” The woman’s voice has a twinge of vocal fry, her hand holding her phone protectively close to her body.

“Oh are you okay? What, uh, what happened?” Greg stoops from his normal towering stance to direct his quiet tone towards his date.

“Nothing! I just asked Logan for a selfie.”

“You asked my dad for a selfie?” You can’t help the small laugh of disbelief that leaves your mouth at her confession.

“Yeah- oh! You’re- uh…” The woman is at least socially conscious enough to realize her mistake in not addressing you, an awkward smile coming to her face as she continues. “I said ‘Congrats on the big deal.’ I was like, ‘Ker-ching, am I right?’ I was being funny!”

“...That is hilarious.”

It’s a little while later when things start to get worse. Logan had disappeared with Colin a couple of hours ago, and was now ignoring calls as his executives tried to contact him. Additionally, Kerry had come to you and asked you to talk to your siblings, to get them to text or call Dad for his birthday. You gave her the same strained response you’d had to repeat so many times in the past few months, “My siblings are capable of making their own decisions.” Despite this, you did text them to let them know of Kerry’s request. They left the message on read. It’s you who’s finally able to get through to Logan, letting him know that there was some trouble with the Pierce deal. He arrived back at the penthouse only a bit after you contacted him, immediately stopping the party and kicking out the crowd.

And so, on a day that was supposed to be calm, work-free, and relaxing, you ended up gathered in Logan’s home office with the tension rising rapidly. It’s concerning how quickly the group is able to find out that it’s your siblings who are the rival bidders. It’s more concerning how upset Logan is when he finds out. He swears. More than usual. He yells at both you and Tom, telling the pair of you to call Shiv and tell her to get her own idea. To your credit, you do call her, but you go straight to voicemail.

You’re helpless in the situation, in a sort of trance of dissociation as chaos unfolds around you. You barely even perk up during Logan’s “roasting” rampage, refusing to cause a spectacle for your dad’s amusement. Unfortunately, Greg doesn’t have the same foresight as you. What snaps you out of the haze is when Tom finally gets through to your sister. The two of you huddle around his iPhone in the corner of the room, trying to maintain some sense of privacy as speakerphone causes your conversation to echo around the office.

“Hey, Shiv” Tom’s is clearly stressed, an unnatural lilt in his voice as he speaks.

“Hi?”

“Hey. Tom!” So Kendall’s with her.

“Fuck you, man mountain!” And the voice of Roman solidifies your siblings' involvement in buying Pierce. An inaudible sigh leaves your mouth as the worst is confirmed.

“Hey, look, so… we were just wondering if we’re not being- uh, played a little here. Since this is all indicative.”

“Okay, well, what did he go up to?” Shiv’s tone is simultaneously annoyed and eager.

“Well, we can’t tell you that.”

“He didn't go to nine, did he?”

“Well, we were just wondering, you know, all things being equal, the asset does have a price. And it would be- it would be crazy to add an emotional… uh, premium here.” Tom is beginning to scramble, his demeanor becoming frantic as he searches for some kind of tactic to convince your siblings. “So, should we be looking for a back door on this?”

“What's Dad's ceiling?” Shiv asks the question like she already knows the answer. You wonder if she really does.

“Well, what's your ceiling?”

“Why don't you go first, Tommy? Build that trust, brah!” Kendall’s tone is surprisingly happy, like he’s high either on coke or on the thrill of bidding.

“Well, his ceiling is-- is... Uh, well, I... Your dad is just–”

“It’s higher than yours, I can guarantee that.” You cut in for the first time, saving Tom from his own bumbling.

“Oh hi baby sister! Decided to join the rebellion yet?” Roman stretches out the nickname, whining in a way he knows you hate, trying to rile you up to their level.

“Do you even have the financing for this? Or are you pooling together all your lunch money just to piss off Dad?” Maybe it’s the fact that you’re over the phone, maybe it’s how stressed out this situation has you, but you find yourself bolder than normal. For once, you’re going head to head with your sibling’s wit without backing down.

“We’re not doing this just to piss off Dad.” Shiv deadpans, interjecting before Roman can get another word in.

“Right because you have such a genuine interest in a left leaning, family based news conglomerate that’s a direct competitor to ATN.” Your normally soft and regulated tone has a sharp edge to it, cutting through your family’s bullshit like butter. “What happened to the media company you were starting, you seemed so excited about that? The hundred, or something?”

“It’s still news and media, it's just- just starting from nothing versus, like, starting from an already established network.” Kendall speaks next, you can hear his chair vaguely creaking as he sits forward to direct his voice into the phone.

“Well it’s not worth it, what you’d gain from buying Pierce is nothing compared to the damage you’d do from fucking this deal. You know that.” You take a breath before finishing your piece, voice softer as you attempt to appeal to your family’s empathy. “Right now, you can still come back from this. Things… aren’t too broken, yet. We can fix them. If you go through with this, I don’t know if that will still be true.”

There’s a long pause before Shiv speaks again. “Our ceiling is 12.”

“Fuck off!” Tom can’t contain his shock at the statement. You tilt your head back, shaking it in disbelief with your eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah, well, our’s too. Okay?”

“Okay!”

There’s a familiar beep as the call ends. You don’t look at anyone’s faces as you reclaim your seat on the couch. You barely speak for the rest of the night. You don’t flinch when your siblings win Pierce, don’t look up when your dad screams at them through the phone, don’t say goodbye to anyone as you leave. Your resolve only crumbles in private.

That night, you call Lukas. He answers on the first ring, smiling into the camera as you greet him on Facetime. You can’t say much about the business that went down today, but he knows you well enough to fill in the blanks. Lukas has listened to you vent about your family so much, and everytime he consoles you like nobody else. He remembers past issues, connects them, brings them up to understand the context better. He frowns when you cry, he tries to make you laugh when you’re mad. He’s single handedly crushing your apprehensions on the relationship one night at a time.

You feel refreshed in the morning, maybe you cried all the angst out of your bloodstream. There’s already a text from your boyfriend making sure you're okay, asking you to text him updates about your day. It’s one of the rare occasions that you won’t be in the office. Instead you’ll be at Connor’s wedding rehearsal, doing just as much work, only with your family instead of the company. Inside, you’re dreading the event. It’s awful, just 24 hours ago you were excited to see your siblings in person. You’d been prepared to hug and smile and laugh. Now, you weren’t sure if they’d even come. And worse, you had no clue how they’d react to your presence if they did attend.

Nevertheless, you persist. You treat the rehearsal like a work event you really don’t want to go to, practicing fake smiles in the mirror as you do your makeup, donning your best cocktail dress, and pushing through the anxiety rushing in your veins. The actual rehearsal is mostly uneventful, your siblings missing from attendance. Of course, it’s incredibly awkward. Willa clearly did not want to be there, tears welling in her eyes every five seconds. Connor absolutely knew this, trying to make up for it with overt public displays of affection. At one point you swear she’s gonna call it off. Instead, she runs off to the bathroom with her bridesmaids for half an hour before returning like nothing was wrong. By the time it’s over and Willa is rushing out the door, you’ve settled into a round table at the restaurant with Connor. You’re expecting to be consoling him for the rest of the night.

It’s just your luck that your family arrives less than five minutes later.

“Finally!” Connor’s sudden interruption in your small talk makes your head whip around, your eyes landing on the trio approaching you. You set down your champagne glass a little too hard, and plaster a polite smile on your face as they near.

“Found him!” Roman is the first to approach his demeanor casual as always, eyes skipping over you to focus on Connor sitting to your right.

“Hey, hey.”

“Hey.”

“Here you are, we missed you.” You keep your voice gentle as you address them, letting Kendall give you a small pat on your shoulder in welcome.

“Hello sir, hugsie?” Rome stoops to plant a semi-authentic hug on Connor, gazing over his shoulder to give you a small look of endearment. A silent show of forgiveness you’ve gotten used to.“We’re so sorry man.”

“Yeah, dad screwed us.” Shiv reaches over you to hug your brother. She gives you a tight lipped smile to acknowledge your presence. “Hey, bro.”

“Oh look at you, the rebel alliance. How is it out in those hills? Supply lines okay? Got enough to eat?” Connor alters his voice a bit, putting on a front of normalcy for his family, even if he knows you can see right through it. Your siblings are still leaning on the table, standing noncommittally as you stay seated with your eldest brother. “This is how it is, huh? Us and Dad on one side, you guys on the other?”

Roman doesn’t answer, disregards his comment in favor of asking a competing question. “You… okay man? We saw Willa on the way in.”

“Yeah, I think it’s all fine.” Connor’s resolve slips as he responds, voice lowering to a level thick with anxiety and gloominess.

“Well…” You give a sideways glance at him before moving your gaze to the rest of your family. “When Willa stood up to do her speech, she said ‘I can’t do this.’ And then she ran to the bathroom and stayed there for forty minutes with her friends.”

There’s a universal cringe that spreads across the table at that information.

“Oh no, no, no. That’s not-” Roman takes a seat, slouches back in his chair as he tries to assure Connor with some rambling. “That’s totally fine, don’t worry about that. Just… toss her another ten grand. -Or a snowmobile and some teeth whitening vouchers.”

“Any luck, Sylvia?” Connor directs his message to a blonde, tanned woman holding a glass of red wine in one hand and her phone in the other. She shakes her head. “That’s Willa’s mom.” He adds under his breath before getting up to go speak with her in the corner.

“It's… fine Con.” Roman’s volume dwindles as your brother walks out of earshot. You scoot back in your chair a bit, craning your neck to look over at Connor while your siblings continue speaking.

“This is so fucking weird.”

“Okay so- do we regroup at my place?” Shiv lowers her voice as she speaks, almost like she’s telling a secret.

“Shiv. He’s, Come on- he’s lookin’ a little rough. Don’t you think?” Rome angles a thumb to your oldest brother. His voice is thick with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

“Well, sure.” Shiv’s still standing, tapping her foot impatiently as her words speed up. “I’m sorry that Dad fucked us, and I’m sorry that we’re late, but we do need to decide fast… so…”

“Wait, decide on what?” Your head turns back to the group at the table, eyes settling on your sister in front of you. “And- you’re leaving? Seriously? You just got here, you can’t spend an hour with your brother? He’s clearly going through a lot!”

“Yeah, we should stay.” Kendall chimes in, giving you a small nod of agreement. “And- I mean, I think we know, right?”

“Do we, though? They made some pretty compelling arguments”

“Sandi’s a greedy little bitch. She’s got her hand up the ass of the carcass of her dad, and Stewy’s just along for the ride. It’s a- fuck it! It’s a packet of horseshit!” Roman’s speech gives you more insight into what it is they’re actually debating. There’s a thousand different reasons your siblings could be talking to Sandi and Stewy, but with your family it’s never just innocent conversation. And with Shiv’s comment about deciding fast… whatever they’re up to, it has to be affecting something in the near future.

“Okay. What if I want to talk it through?” Your sister stresses the word I, like she is the ultimate driving force in this decision. Which, to be fair, she seems to be.

“Talk what through? What’s going on- what are you three up to now?” Your head shakes slightly as you ask the question, already preparing for the worst. There’s a slight pause as your siblings look at each other, which you use to take another sip of champagne.

“Okay, still incommunicado.” Connor’s presence breaks the rising tension, and stops one of your siblings from having to answer you. “I just really hope she’s okay. So, what do you say? A little bit of karaoke?”

“Would it be possible to do anything other than that in the entire universe?”

“No, let’s do it! Come on, just this one time.” You give Connor a little shoulder nudge as he sits back next to you, encouraging his idea with a smile.

“Yeah, she’s partying, I can party.” There’s an air of both hopefulness and desperation around your brother.

“I mean, we can go drink, right? Little bachelor party for POTUS- SCROTUS?” It’s honestly a bit of a shock to you that Roman is so quick to comply. Then again, maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to Shiv about whatever scheme she's involving them in this time.

“Well I mean… we three kind of-” Shiv tries to step in, giving her best impression of someone regretful to decline such a kind invitation.

“Oh sure, everybody’s busy.”

“Come on. Let’s give him a drink, sis.” With Kendall’s agreement, your sister is outvoted. Connor claps in excitement. “Let’s give him a drink.”

“Yeah! But- but not your usual… stupid places. Uh… somewhere fun- and real! Away from the fancy dance.” Connor stands to tower above the table, talking with his hands as he outlines his plan for the night. “A real bar with chicks. And… guys who work with their hands and grease and sweat from their hands, and have blood in their hair.”

“I don’t like these guys. They sound like a medical experiment gone wrong.” Roman’s arms are crossed, his eyes narrowed in fake suspicion as Con takes a long drink of his red wine.

“Yeah… I don’t think we have that kind of place just engraved in our memories. Might have to Google this one.” You stand to join your brother, grabbing your clutch as your other siblings rise with you. Shiv is a bit reluctant, not moving until you all begin leaving the restaurant, then hurrying to catch up with you. So you quickly find yourself on the cold streets of NYC, walking (because Connor insisted) to the nearest dive bar you can find in a three block radius.

The bar is like something out of a movie. Like something from another planet. It’s all wood paneling and dark lighting and sticky counters. There’s old TVs mounted to the walls playing baseball and a glowing red exit sign over the door as you step in. The soundtrack is muted classic rock with the clinking of beer glasses over a constant chatter of patrons.

“Ah! America… I missed you.” Connor is immediately out of his depth, blue suit clashing horribly with the plaid flannels of the other customers.

“This is charming.” You shoot Roman a smile at his attempt of optimism, he brushes you off with an eye roll as you follow your oldest brother to the bar.

“Okay, what’s everybody having?” Ken’s straight to business, you wouldn’t expect anything less out of him. “What do you want?”

“Uh- do you think they know how to make a vodka tonic?”

“They can make a vodka tonic, Rome. You’ll just have to settle for Smirnoff” You give him an eyeroll of your own. It’s moments like these you feel so much more normal than your siblings, despite the fact that you’ve had such similar upbringings.

“House red? Do I dare?” Shiv’s comment gets a genuine laugh out of you, and a string of both ‘yes’s’ and ‘no’s’ from you and Roman. She chuckles before deciding, “That- just a club soda with a sealed lid. Nothing from that… tainted nozzle.”

“Con, what do you want?”

“I’ll just have whatever a regular Joe would have. Uh, Belgian Weissbier? Not Hoegaarden, ideally.” Connor’s distracted by his phone, looking down at it while speaking instead of answering Kendall’s question.

“How do you feel about Miller Light?” You get a small scoff from Shiv at that, but Con’s already too engrossed in his iPhone to pay you any mind. You drift over to Ken as he starts ordering the drinks. The background noise is loud enough that you can’t quite hear as Shiv pulls out her phone and begins speaking to Roman. It’s only a second before he moves away from her, but you catch the vague mentionings of Waystar and Sandi before the conversation is interrupted.

“Hey, can I get a, um- vodka tonic, I’ll have a bitters and soda…” Kendall orders for the group, listing out Shiv and Connor’s orders before turning to you for your drink.

“A Cosmo?” You pitch in, receiving a nod from the bartender in confirmation. You turn back to the trio of your other siblings, catching Con in the middle of a sentence.

“-Anyway I am reassured. She’s definitely not on her way to Cuba. Well, her phone isn’t.” You move closer to peak over his shoulder, seeing a little dot on a map lighting up his phone screen. “Yeah, she stopped movin’. Guess she found a spot she likes.”

“Sure…on another man’s dick.” You, Connor and Kendall look at Rome with the same exasperated expression as he speaks. “On a much bigger, nicer, harder, younger dick is all I’m saying.”

“Rome, that’s not-” Your tone is breathy with annoyance before your brother cuts you off.

“Can we not? Because you know, I’m feeling… I’m having certain anxieties, huh?” Roman mutters a string of disingenuous apologies as Connor talks over him. “I mean, I wanna have a good time!”

“Okay, all right. Let’s have fun. We can monitor her dot together.” Kendall’s nonchalance makes you cover your mouth to mute a giggle that you know would’ve ticked Con off. “Let’s- let’s get it up on the big screen.

“Why so long…” Connor points to his screen with two fingers. He reminds you of Logan trying to figure out new electronics when he doesn’t have an assistant nearby to do it for him. “Her dot is at an aquarium supply retailer. That doesn’t look safe- is that a drug thing?”

“No.” Looking behind Con’s back, you see Roman mouth ‘I love him’ across the way at you. You respond with blowing a little kiss in his direction.

“You sure?”

“I am sure.”

“It is. It’s a drug thing.” Roman moves in, working his magic to aggravate Connor in a way only a younger brother can.

“Now she’s at a dry cleaners?” Connor runs a hand through his hair.

“She’s probably getting her panties clean. Mussed 'em up a bit.” They’re too preoccupied with bickering to notice as Kendall waves to your drinks and departs the bar on a phone call.

You sigh as the two boys continue clashing, moving over to grab your drink from its spot on the bar. The drink is good enough. The vodka’s not very smooth and the orange peel looks like it was cut by a 5th grader, but it’s better than you expected from the shabby chic destination. When you start to hear Roman mention cum, you decide to break into the conversation.

“Hey guys. Drinks. Look.” You speak slowly, making big hand gestures like you’re talking to toddlers. It gets a scoff from Roman, but breaks up the tension enough for Connor to come over and grab his (definitely not Belgian, probably not even wheat based) beer. Shiv joins you too to grab her club soda. “How do we feel about food?”

“I could eat.” Connor is still pretty engrossed in his phone, but looks away for a few moments to sip from his glass. For what it’s worth, he doesn’t complain about the taste.

“Shall we grab some menus?” Rome strolls over to grab his tonic, making his way to the nearest table.

“Here? Isn’t that guaranteeing food poisoning?” Shiv crosses her arms, holding her position at the bar as she glares at your brother.

“Come on Shivvy, we’re being average citizens. Remember?” You bite your lower lip in a smile, following Rome to sit at the table. Con comes with you, not even bothering to look up from his device as he just moves with the crowd. She’s out ruled, once again, and gives in to join you three. It’s only a few seconds later than Kendall joins you again, an indistinguishable look on his face.

“Hey, what’s up? What did I miss?” His tone doesn’t give anything away, the same monotone, muttered pitch that you’re used to.

“We’re… eating! Right here!” Kendall sits in the free chair next to Roman as the younger man points animatedly to the menu in front of him. “Billy Ray Cyrus’s Kentucky Fried Shit Shack.”

“Roman, they’re gonna spit in your food if they hear you say that.” You shake your head, a small smile on your face as you turn your attention to your own laminated menu.

“Well, they seem to have some hearty fare.” Connor follows your lead, looking over the meal options himself.

“What was that shit?” You’re glad Roman asks before you do. The question is on your mind too, but it sounds less suspicious coming from your brother.

“Uh- Stewy…”

“Oh great, what the fuck now? What?”

“Well actually guys, can i- can i show you something?” Ken pulls out his phone, screen illuminating his face in the dark lighting of the bar.

“Yeah…” Shiv leans over to peek at Kendall’s phone while Roman tries to tune out the action happening before him. Instead of giving Ken the attention he’s asking for, Rome’s eyes scan the menu before he begins his interruption.

“Ooo, wings! I wonder from which particular creature they snip these wings.” He shifts the cadence of his voice, making his tone all whimsical and silly. “Perhaps a mammal…”

It’s um… on the comparables. It’s- it’s actually pretty fucking intriguing.” The information Kendall gives leaves a puzzled look on your face.

“Wait… why are you looking at the market comparables for Waystar?” You set down your menu as you make eye contact with Ken, narrowing your gaze slightly. “I thought you three were done with the company, completely into your Pierce-thing now.”

“Well, it just makes you think.” Shiv pitches in, your eyes shifting to her, brows still furrowed in question. “Maybe Dad isn’t on it like he used to be… he’s getting pushed around-”

“Fuck, she’s in the East River.” Connor’s outburst makes you whip around in his direction. You feel like a bobble head trying to even out our attention between your siblings. “She in the fucking- wait, no. She’s on the bridge, she’s headed to uh- Williamsberg.”

“Con, I love you, but there’s other shit going on.” You keep your tone gentle with him, a reassuring but slightly strained smile on your face.

“Not to be dicks but- can we do a little breakout chat? Just the three of us?” Shiv is already moving in her seat by the time the question is out of her mouth. Her eagerness makes you crinkle your nose in agitation. “We won’t be long, like, two minutes max.”

“Hey, fuck it. Why don’t we fold them in?” Rome scratches his nose and raises his shoulders in indifference as he addresses your sister.

“Well, they’re not on the board so…”

“Yeah but they have sizable shares, so if the deal-” Roman makes a cutting sound low in his throat, “-they lose their payouts.”

“Excuse me?” Connor’s focus is finally on the group instead of his phone, his hand now holding the beer glass he’d previously forgotten.

“Oh yeah, so, Shiv wants us to get mixed up in some sort of drug deal that will fuck the vote tomorrow.” And all your suspicions are unfortunately confirmed.

“You wanna fuck the deal?!” You can’t keep the shock from your voice.

“Um, no. A small delay, we all want the deal.”

“And, look- I think I agree.” Kendall’s admission just surprises you more, causing you to shake your head lightly in disbelief.

“Oh, what the fuck now?”

“So, what? You think Waystar’s worth more than what Luk- or, Matsson’s paying, and you want to drive the price up?” Shiv and Ken nod in confirmation. “That’s so fucking stupid, he’ll walk if you try to force him to that!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna force Dad to grovel?” Connor steps in again, his expression mirroring yours. “Oh man, how long will a renegotiation take?”

“It’s a play.” Shiv moves her hands in front of her like she’s trying to smooth the air between you, trying to brush the tension away from the five of you. “More money is more money, and that’s all there is to it.”

“I just- I can’t” You stand from your seat, moving to squeeze behind Connor’s chair. “I need a break, just give me a minute.”

“What, you running to Daddy?” Shiv calls from behind you. You flip her off.

It’s not too difficult to find the bathroom in the restaurant, luckily it’s an individual stall with a lock on the entrance door. As soon as the latch comes down, you take a deep breath and let your back rest against the white tiled wall behind you. A hand comes up to brush hair out of your face, you fold your arms across your chest with a sigh. Reasonably, you should call your Dad. You should tell him about their scheming like a good daughter, let him deal with your traitorous siblings in any way he sees fit. But as you reach for your phone, your fingers end up dialing a different number.

“Have you been talking to my siblings?”

“A few of them, yeah.” Lukas answers your Facetime on the first ring, your phone showing an image of him sitting back in an armchair, donning a white tank top.

“Like, recently?”

“I just called Kendall a few minutes ago.”

“Fucking- I knew it.” Your jaw clenches involuntarily. If you were still a child, you’d be stomping your foot in anger.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Lukas’s face tenses a bit, his eyebrows coming up to form lines on his forehead as he questions you.

“Whatever you said, it’s convinced Kendall to fuck the board vote tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” Despite the inquiry in his voice, he doesn’t seem surprised at the fact.

“They want more money from you, these market price comparables have influenced at least two of them, probably even more board members” Your filter for business information has been blown to pieces, at this point you’re letting whatever you want fly from your mouth. You’ll probably regret it in the morning.

“I figured.”

“Are you really gonna walk if they try to negotiate for more?” You can’t help the pitiful, almost whiny sound at the end of your question.

“Hey, it’s okay, I have it figured out. The deal will be fine regardless of what happens, I promise you.” Lukas’s tone takes on that nurturing tint he uses when you get flustered around him. You know that if you were there in person, he’d be pulling you into his lap to stroke your hair. “This has got you all worked up, huh?”

“I just- I feel so torn lately.” The sharp edge to your voice begins fading as he starts to coax the anger out of your system. “I just want everything to work out and everyone to be happy. And that’s really fucking hard when the people you love are all at eachother’s throats.”

“I know, you shouldn’t have to go through that. You’re just so caring, sometimes you can’t look out for yourself.”

“I really miss you.” Your voice breaks a bit at the confession, fingers coming up to dab at the few tears that have gathered in your waterline. These moments with Lukas are like nights. Nights where the sky is dark and covered in clouds, and every once in a while the moon will peak through the haze and illuminate the entire world below. Somehow, just a minute with Lukas will brighten your entire demeanor, and will change you for the better.

“I miss you.” There’s a sad sort of smile on his face when he continues. “You have to take care of yourself when I’m not there. Don’t get overly involved with this shit, you know it’s ultimately out of your hands.”

“I- it’s like there’s so much going on I don’t even know about. And I’m just over here worried about how everyone feels.”You wrinkle your nose at the mention of feelings. Lukas gives a small chuckle at that, you wiping your tears with a newfound smile. “You should’ve seen me, I got so pissed when they said they were gonna fuck you over.”

“Aw you defended me?” He makes a little pouty face, putting out his lower lip with his best puppy dog eyes to make you laugh. “I love it when you’re feisty, turns me on.”

“Can I come up?”

“Absolutely, just tell me when. We have our company retreat soon, so before or after that I’ll carve out some time for you.”

“Oh gee thanks, cutting out time from your busy schedule to be with your girlfriend.” Lukas gives a fake frown at that, your smile grows wider in response. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hang up the call with a wave before tucking your phone back into your bag. Going to the janky mirror bolted to the wall, you fix any smeared eye makeup after splashing a little cool water on your face to calm down. Your head feels clearer after that conversation, your emotions more regulated and understanding a little deeper of the issue at hand. It’s strange how just a few minutes away from your family can change your mood so severely. Making your way back down the wood paneled wall of the bar, you join the silhouettes of your siblings back at the table.

“-I wanted to get married tomorrow. I wanted to spend tonight with my family and tomorrow with my dad and I wanted to get my fucking money out.” Connor’s arms are crossed as you back down next to him, shooting a concerned look to your other siblings. “If I were you I wouldn’t have fucking come back.” He gives you a shake of his head and a glare from the corner of his eye.

“What even was that about? Were… were you telling Dad?” Kendall raises his eyebrows as he addresses your presence again.

“No, I wasn’t. That’s your own shit, I don’t wanna be involved.” He nods, but still has a look of suspicion in his eyes. “Sometimes you guys just give me migraines. But anyway, can we do anything else, Con?”

“...I would like to sing one fucking song at karaoke, because I’ve see it in the movies, and nobody ever wants to go.” There’s a short pause before Connor speaks, but he seems happy enough to switch the subject. Shiv smiles in the background of your view, Roman puts his head down on the sticky surface of the table. You put an arm around the back of Connor’s chair and smile at him during the lull in conversation.

“You wanna do karaoke?” He nods. “Let’s do it, Mr. Bachelor. You only live once.” His face lights up at your optimism, Kendall looks at your other siblings in apprehension.

“Can we do literally anything else?” Rome’s voice is muffled from its position, and Shiv puts a hand on his back in consolation.

“Come on, one song on the night before his wedding. Toughen up, Rome.” Ken deciding to support the idea makes it 3 to 2, Connor wins.

And so, with a substantial amount of whining from Roman, your party makes its way to a new location. This time, Connor allows you to get chauffeured by his driver, sparing you from the cold New York air. The karaoke bar is all modern white surfaces and bright pink lighting. The partygoers range from business men just getting off work to bachelorette parties dressed in animal prints. Luckily, the venue has a private room available at short notice and the five of you are quickly escorted there by a polite usher.

“So, what happens now?” Connor walks to the center of the room, not waiting for the door to be fully closed before eagerly exploring the new space.

“Uh, well… someone has to humiliate themselves in the shame palace.” Shiv holds up an inflatable saxophone toy with a smirk while your brother joins Con on the couch.

“It’s not humiliation, Siobhan. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?” You move to a wall holding a mounted flatscreen and two wireless microphones, beginning to fiddle with the electronic there.

“Think they have "Desperado" by The Eagles?”

“I would imagine they do. Longest night of my life.” Roman is still looking around with his hands on his hips, surveying the room with a grimace on his face

“Oh, shit. She's gone dark- why has she gone dark?” Connor is once again transfixed on his phone, a panicked expression coming across his features as he rambles. “I mean… is this it? Is she going off with some buck and they're gonna…you know?”

“Hey, take it easy. Kendall moves the thick book of songs that Connor had been flipping through over to himself, trying to calm him with his causal tone. “Maybe-maybe her phone just died.”

“Yeah. Have you ever considered that she might not be right for you? This could be good. Yeah?” Shiv is still perched by the tub of comical accessories, saxophone now abandoned as she leans with her hand placed on the counter. “You'll meet someone else.”

“Connor?” There’s a pause in Kendall’s speech, a soft look in his eyes when he continues. “You're not doing better than Willa.”

“I would agree. Do not let Willa go.”

“Romulus.” Ken’s begun to pour the provided champagne, holding a glass out to his younger brother carefully. When you see the drinks begin flowing, you make your way over to your brothers, leaving your attempt at understanding the karaoke technology begin. A chime on Connor’s phone grabs his attention again, a low sigh leaving his mouth before he speaks.

“So… Dad’s on his way.”

“What?”

“He wants us to meet him down at the car when he gets here.” Connors admission makes even you puzzled, looking around at your siblings in confusion.

“What the fսck?” Shiv opens her arms, clearly in a similar state of discomposure.

“How does he know we're here? How do you know he’s coming?” Kendall’s voice takes on a bit of an angry edge as he looks at you. “Did you tell him? Is that what that little ‘break’ was about earlier?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that!” You’re quick to defend yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as some kind of protection, some kind of armor.

“Fuck, you totally did. You’re lying!” Shiv sounds shrill behind you, her accusatory tone making you draw your eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Well, no. I told him… that it’s the night of a thousand wobbles over here and he needs to talk to you.” Connor finally steps in, taking the heat off you.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You turn back to your oldest brother, arms coming out in an expression of absolute bafflement.

“My life isn’t filled with secrets like some people. I share things, and I want my father to be at my wedding.” Shiv moves to the back to the couch, leaning over it with two hands bracing herself.

“You mean you want the money?”

“Well no- Siobhan, that was not my primary consideration.”

“I mean, what do we do? Do we- do we leave? I mean…” Roman’s moved a hand to his mouth, chewing at his fingernails in anxiety. It’s always startling to you, how quickly he can turn subservient at the mention of your father. “Will he come in? He’s not coming in, right?”

“I am totally down to leave.” You move closer to Roman’s side in support. “I don't want to be around you-” your finger points at Connor in objection “if you pull insane shit like this!”

“This doesn’t even affect you, why are you so upset?” Shiv’s eyes narrow in a glare at you, still suspicious from your current connection to Logan.

“Because it’s evil and manipulative and- fucking conniving!”

“You know what? Just be water, my friend.” Kendall is surprisingly calm in the situation. You wonder if he’s high.

“‘Just be wat-’ Wow, thanks man.” Roman turns to you. “What happens if I kill a Buddist? Do I get reincarnated as a fucking Buddhist?”

“I hope not.” You sigh, grabbing the champagne from your brother's hand and swallow it in one gulp. “Fuck it, I’m really just gonna leave. I don’t think I can take any more of this shit tonight.”

“Honestly I would too, you don’t need to be a part of this.” Roman runs a hand through his hair as he begins pacing across the room.

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not…” You move to reach across the island table grabbing the mostly full bottle of champagne from its resting place. “I’ll just deal with Dad on my own. I’d rather not experience his wrath in front of other people. And looking at Connor makes me want to vomit right now”

“Fair enough.” Kendall is still calm, leaning back on the couch as he addresses you with an expression so neutral that it makes you want to roll your eyes.

“Do you wanna come with?” You make eye contact with Roman, eyebrows raising in question.

“... I dunno-”

“If you wanna run away you can. Just send him another little text later, ‘Sorry I missed you Daddy, take care!’” Shiv makes her voice all whiny when she quotes your brother. She’s clearly trying to aggravate him, get him to stay even if it’s not the best idea. You silently pray that Roman’s strong enough to resist her.

“Fine, I’ll fuckin- stay. Let Dad strangle all of us together, mass homicide.” But he’s not. He gives in to Shiv too easily, makes you frown in empathy.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Text me later okay? I worry about you guys.” As you turn to leave, you add one thing over your shoulder with a little grin. “Don’t… don’t let him push you around. As much as I disagree with you, you have to make your own choices. Even if they’re wrong.”

On the way home you finish the bottle, staring out the backseat window of the SUV as the bright lights of NYC whizz past you. When you enter your apartment, you only pause to set down the empty drink and kick off your heels before flopping back onto your bed. Your chest is a little giggly and your brain is a little fuzzy from the alcohol. So of course you decide it’s the perfect time to call your boyfriend.

“Hiii!” You speak as soon as he answers, drawing out the word with a cheeky smile on your face. You’ve rolled onto your stomach by now, supporting yourself with your elbows as you gaze lovingly down at the image of Lukas in your phone.

“Oh, you’re drunk. And sexy.” You laugh at that, it’s always surprising how quickly Lukas can read you. To be fair, you do look really hot. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy, and your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes. It reminds Lukas of how you look after he’s fucked you really well.

“Yeah…I drank a bottle of champagne. By myself.”

“Things went that bad?” His eyebrows furrow a bit as he questions you, clearly worried about your wellbeing.

“Kinda? It was actually Connor’s fault this time though.” You roll onto your back with a sigh, hair splaying out behind you in a halo. You hold your screen above your head, giving Lukas a little peak at the cleavage coming out of your shirt.

“Really? What happened?” His eyes dart to the sliver of your skin, but come back up to your eyes as he awaits your response.

“He, like, went to our dad about the shit Shiv and Rome and Ken are up to. The vote stuff I told you about.”

“And Logan was mad?”

“I assume so? I kinda left before he got there… it was just too much.” Your lips come together in a frown. “I dunno, maybe I shoulda stayed.”

“No, no, you did good. Looking out for yourself like I told you to.” Lukas gives a smile that you can’t help but mirror. He knows how his praise gets you.

“Maybe, we’ll see what happens. With him it’s like night or day. He’ll either love that I didn’t agree with them or hate that I didn’t rat them out to him.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. Regardless of what he says.” His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, eyes traveling back down to your cleavage.

“Thank you.” You pause for a second just looking at him before you continue. “If I wasn’t so drunk I’d have Facetime sex with you right now.”

“I can tell. Your pupils are so big your eyes look black.” Playfully, you roll your eyes in response. “Call me in the morning, I’ll take care of you then.”

“Okayyy, and I’ll see you soon right? Come up before your retreat thing?”

“Of course. I’ll talk to you in the morning, go get some sleep.”

You do end up getting some sleep that night, following your boyfriend's wishes. But you also energetically masturbate to his past dick pics to tire yourself out. When you tell him that in the morning, he audibly groans at the fact that he missed watching you.

In the end, Logan isn’t mad at you. He’s not pleased either. But, being indifferent is better than you expected. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself. He invites you with the core executive crew to come to Sweden for a sudden meeting with Matsson, and of course you accept. It means you’ll miss Connor’s wedding, but you honestly don’t want to see him right now anyways. Plus, it means you get to see Lukas sooner than expected. Ken ended up texting you a brief recap of what happened after you left last night. When you read it in the morning it makes you glad that you weren’t there.

It almost feels like yesterday was a dream. Like life is all back to normal now and things will carry on just as they always have. The deal will go through, Logan will be happy leading ATN, your siblings will be happy with Pierce, or whatever they end up working with. And you will live happily ever after with Lukas, ideally on Mars, or in outer space, or some other place that alienates you from all physical contact with your family.

At least some of that ends up happening.

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