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[riboism]

me and my husband

》 pairing: emperor! k.hj x (f) empress! reader

》 wc: 5k

》 plot: In a cold and ruthless empire, the neglected Empress is trapped in a loveless marriage to a possessive and tyrannical Emperor. When he encourages her to take a lover to occupy her loneliness, she begins a forbidden affair with a kind-hearted gardener, discovering a tenderness she’s never known. But when the Emperor learns of her growing feelings for the gardener, he becomes consumed with jealousy, rage, and betrayal, prompting him to realize his conflicted feelings and take matters into his own hands.

》 content: royalty au, possessive! hongjoong, lots of plot before smut, affair, low key angry sex, cunnilingus, backshots, breeding, creampie, verrryyyy toxic ;)

》 a/n: this is heavily inspired by the Hulu drama, ‘The Great’, and that goddamn hongjoong mv…

🎧 me and my husband by mitski, all mine by brent faiyaz, heartless by the weekend, closer by nine inch nails, why do you love by hongjoong

You paced back and forth in your large bedroom, the quiet ticking from the grand clock slowly maddening you until your patience evaporated. Mingi is exactly eight minutes late. You wouldn’t have noticed his short delay if it was any other night, but tonight you were particularly desperate. It was only a couple of days before you’d start bleeding again, and your body craved to be taken care of. The frustration made you so hot and flushed to the point that you felt it unnecessary to apply any color to your cheeks. 

Exasperated, you fell back into the softness of your bed. Despite his occasional lateness, you had to admit—having a lover had its perks. At first, the idea felt like a betrayal of everything you stood for, a compromise of your values. But Mingi had been nothing short of a blessing. The loneliness of the palace had once felt suffocating, but his presence brought a much-needed light. He listened when no one else would, his warm gaze making you feel seen in a way the Emperor never had. And when words failed, he used his skilled fingers to help ease away your tensions. 

It was the Emperor’s idea for you to take a lover. Yes, you and your husband had sort of a dysfunctional marriage. When you first learned that the young Emperor was going to ask for your hand, you were quickly consumed with giddy daydreams of romance and devotion, the kinds you read about in books when you were just a little girl. You were ecstatic to have his companionship until reality struck you hard and fast. The hastily arranged wedding had barely concluded when you finally met him—a man who was far from the Prince Charming you had imagined. The dreams of a happily-ever-after faded quickly, replaced by the cold, bitter truth. You were merely another pawn in his political game, and he was far too absorbed in his own indulgences to care about yours.

Emperor Kim Hongjoong was a tyrant draped in silk and gold, a man whose cruelty knew no bounds. He ruled with a reckless disregard for his people. While his subjects froze to death in yet another senseless war, he surrounded himself with decadence—hosting opulent feasts that spilled into debauchery and indulging in nights of ecstasy with his concubines. The Court tread lightly around him, knowing full well he was a volatile storm, ready to unleash fury over the slightest inconvenience. Beheadings became as common as whispers in the palace halls, his wrath fueled by whims and dulled by the haze of opium that clouded his mind. Rational decisions—military or otherwise—were a rarity, yet the Court still pushed him toward one expectation: securing heirs to continue his blood-soaked legacy.

You quickly came to understand your place within the palace walls. Though you bore the title of Empress, in his eyes, you were nothing more than a vessel for producing heirs to secure the bloodline and strengthen the Empire.

Intimacy with the Emperor felt like a cold and mechanical ritual devoid of any tenderness or affection. During your ovulation, he would visit your chambers to complete the act, barely sparing you a glance as he did. There was no care or affection—just the unceremonious deposit of his seed before he rose and left without a word. More often than not, you were left lying on your back, alone in the dark, listening to his footsteps echo down the hall as he sought solace in the arms of his concubines. Whatever happened between you two during those nights was never meant to bring any joy or passion; it was simply a transaction, a duty to the Empire.

What stung most was how he never saw you as he did those other women. To them, he gave smiles, laughter, and sometimes even whispers of affection—crumbs of humanity that you yearned for but never received. And yet, despite his cold indifference, you couldn’t help but crave his attention. You told yourself that if you waited, and if you worked hard enough, he might one day change. Maybe, just maybe, he would soften, hold you, and love you the way you had once dreamed.

But with each passing day, the hope grew dimmer. He only seemed to drift further away, leaving you to grapple with the emptiness he left behind.

“I don’t have time,” the Emperor said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He shoved the last of his rice into his mouth and rose swiftly from the table. He always ate with such haste in the mornings, as though the very act of sitting with you was a burden he couldn’t wait to escape.

“All I’m asking for is a short walk in the garden. Please, I’m so lonely here. Can’t you spare even a moment for your wife?” you pleaded, your voice trembling with the weight of your desperation.

He adjusted his trousers with a practiced indifference, striding toward the tall, imposing doors without so much as a glance in your direction. Just as he reached them, he let out a dismissive scoff.

“If you’re so bored, find yourself a lover.”

The Emperor had said many cruel things to you before, but this? To suggest such a thing as an affair to his wife? It was beyond comprehension. That very day, you found yourself pacing the palace garden, his vile words echoing endlessly in your mind.

Was he truly that done with you? you wondered bitterly. Did he care so little for you that the thought of you lying with another man didn’t stir even the faintest flicker of jealousy? No, he had encouraged it. Not out of love, but because your presence was a little more than an inconvenience to him. The realization gnawed at you. He treated you with less regard than his concubines, women he showered with affection, attention, and gifts—things you had only ever dared to dream of.

Your sadness was written across your face, too raw to hide, even when the tall, unassuming gardener approached with cautious concern. His voice was soft as he asked if you were alright, his eyes kind in a way you hadn’t experienced in ages.

And it was in that moment, standing before Mingi, that you decided. If the Emperor’s cruelty extended so far as to push you into the arms of another, then so be it. You would take his advice.

—

A loud thud at the door jolted you upright. That must be Mingi, you thought, heart racing as you leapt out of bed. Hastily, you grabbed the bottle of floral perfume on your nightstand, spritzing a delicate mist onto your neck. You smoothed your lacy nightgown and approached the door on light feet, careful to keep your movements discreet—though you knew the palace walls were full of watchful eyes, and rumors of your midnight visitor were no secret.

But the giddy flutter of butterflies in your stomach twisted into a cold, heavy weight the moment you opened the door.

Standing there, framed by the dim hallway light, was not Mingi.

“Emperor,” you murmured, quickly bowing to mask your shock.

Hongjoong’s gaze slid over you like a blade, lingering far too long on the delicate lace of your nightgown. His lips quirked upward in a faint smirk, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. You flushed under his scrutiny, the sheer fabric suddenly feeling like a cruel betrayal.

"All dolled up," he remarked, voice low and taunting. "Quite the effort for someone who isn't me."

You widened the door hesitantly, feeling cornered, as though you had no choice but to let him in. The Emperor stepped inside with an air of entitlement, his presence suffocating in the small space. As he moved further into the room, you instinctively leaned out into the hallway, glancing left and right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mingi—wanting to warn him somehow.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about the gardener,” Hongjoong said casually as if reading your thoughts. “I sent him away.”

You froze mid-step, the blood draining from your face. “S-sent him away?” you stammered, dread pooling in your chest.

Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed, a sharp, grating sound that only deepened your unease. “Relax,” he said, waving his hands in mock reassurance. “I didn’t kill him. Tempting, sure, but no. I figured that might upset you.” His words were flippant, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made your stomach twist. The reassurance didn’t land—it only left you more anxious.

Without invitation, Hongjoong strolled further into your chambers and collapsed onto your bed with an exaggerated sigh, as though he owned every inch of the space—and, of course, he did. His dark eyes roamed over you unabashedly, lingering on your bare, glistening legs and then rising to your barely covered chest.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in that nightgown before. Did I buy that?”

You didn’t respond, refusing to acknowledge his comments. Your thoughts were racing, consumed with worry for Mingi. Where was he? Was he safe? What did Hongjoong do to him?

The Emperor sat up, his expression shifting into something more serious. “I didn’t kill your boy toy,” he said bluntly. “I’m simply relocating him. He no longer works at the palace.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Now, sit down.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. The room felt colder, heavier. You wanted to scream, to hurl every ornate wedding gift he had ever given you in his face, to demand answers at the top of your lungs. But you swallowed it all—the anger, the fear—and silently moved to sit beside him. It had been so long since you were this close to him, and you needed a moment to size him up before doing anything rash.

“Why did you send him away?” you asked quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying your attempt at calm.

“Because I decided I don’t want to share pussy with a lowborn. You couldn’t have at least gone for the Chancellor? He’s always ogling at your breasts. Doesn’t carry much in length, but at least he has status.” He answered offhandedly.

“What?” You flustered. 

Hongjoong threw his head back in exasperation before turning sharply toward you, his expression a mixture of annoyance and condescension. “Everyone in the Palace knows about you two,” he began, his tone dripping with disdain. “The Court has been whispering that your little gardener was falling in love and planning to run away with you. He made a mockery of me. Me. So yes, I had to get rid of him. You should be grateful I didn’t have him beheaded. That imbecile.”

His words left you reeling. Was he telling the truth, or weaving lies to justify his cruelty? It didn’t make sense. He had ignored you for so long, humiliated you at every turn, yet now he took offense when you sought solace elsewhere? And with his permission, no less?

“I don’t understand,” you said, your voice trembling with both anger and confusion. “You told me I could have a lover.”

Hongjoong chuckled darkly, the sound grating against your nerves. “I meant a fuck buddy,” he corrected, his smirk widening. “Not a boyfriend. But anyway, I take it back. You can’t have either.”

Hot anger coursed through your veins, lighting every nerve on fire. How dare he? Who was he to take the one shred of happiness you had and discard it on a whim? You rose to your feet, fists clenched, jaw tight. “Bring him back. Now,” you demanded, your voice firm despite the trembling in your chest.

His smirk deepened, his gaze alight with a maddening amusement. He leaned back leisurely, resting his weight on one arm as if your anger were nothing more than entertainment to him. “No,” he said flatly, his arrogance palpable.

The sheer audacity made your head spin. You had always tempered your tone around him, swallowed your words out of respect—or fear—but this was too much. “If you don’t bring him back to me,” you said, your voice rising, “I will leave. And I will never come back.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed, though his smirk remained intact. “If you leave,” he said with maddening calm, “I’ll send my men to every corner of this Earth to find you and bring you back to me.”

“Then I’ll jump to my death!” you spat, your voice trembling with both fury and desperation.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head mockingly. “Do you need my assistance opening the window? They’re awfully heavy,” he said, his tone laced with derision.

It hit you then—the futility of it all. There was no winning with him. Every word he uttered, every action he took, was final. Your defiance crumbled as hopelessness set in. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, staring blankly at the carpet.

My Mingi, you thought, your heart aching in the hollow silence that followed. If he had truly loved you, if he had asked you sooner, you wouldn’t have hesitated to run away with him. But now…

A sudden touch startled you. Hongjoong’s thumb brushed away a stray tear from your cheek before gently gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He studied your face with an almost detached curiosity, sighing as if your sorrow was an inconvenience.

“Oh, cheer up, dear,” he said, his tone mockingly light. “You don’t need that filthy cock to sit on. You have me.”

The sheer calmness in his voice, the audacious cheerfulness of his words, was infuriating. It gnawed at you, his willful ignorance of your pain more provoking than all his cruelty combined.

You pushed his hand away. “At least that filthy cock could make me cum.” 

You braced yourself for the sting of his hand against your cheek, but it never came. Instead, the Emperor’s lips curled into an amused smirk, as though your defiance was nothing more than a child’s tantrum to him. “Well, If you’d dropped that attitude and let me into your chambers from time to time,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “you might have seen my full potential.”

His words dripped with arrogance, and your stomach churned in disgust. The memories of the handful of nights you had spent with him were distant and cold, fleeting instances of duty you had long since abandoned. After meeting Mingi, you had shut your doors to the Emperor completely, forsaking the obligations of producing an heir as you allowed yourself to be swept away in the warmth of another’s embrace.

“Just get out,” you snapped, your voice brittle with anger and exhaustion.

Hongjoong tilted his head, studying you as though you were a puzzle he was just now beginning to solve. He hadn’t expected this level of fury—at least, not from you. A flicker of realization crossed his face.

“Oh,” he said, a note of amusement creeping into his tone. “Don’t tell me you loved him.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The truth sat heavy in your chest, threatening to burst free. It wasn’t just lust that had drawn you to Mingi; it was the way he saw you, the way he listened, the way he made you feel alive. You cared for him deeply, even when it terrified you, even when the impossibility of your circumstances loomed over you like a storm. There were nights when you dreamed of a life with him, though, they were only dreams, you had to remind yourself.

Hongjoong sighed, a long, dramatic exhale as he leaned forward, his movements slow and deliberate. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and venomous. “Oh, you don’t get it, do you, honey?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “You can’t be with anyone else. You belong to me. Your mind, your voice, your lips, your breasts, your legs...”

His fingers brushed against the softness of your thigh, a teasing touch that made your skin crawl. His hand lingered there for a moment, as though threatening to move closer, before retreating entirely. “...The very essence of you is mine,” he said, his tone as cold as it was possessive. “And the next time you foolishly find another hard cock to bounce on, remember this: I graciously spared your beloved lowborn this time. I let him walk out of here with all his limbs intact. But next time?” His voice darkened, a shadow falling over his words. “I won’t be so kind.”

The silence that followed was deafening, his threat hanging heavy in the air.

Without another word, the Emperor rose to his feet, smoothing out his clothes with maddening calm. He strode to the door with the same regal air he always carried, pausing only to glance back at you with a mocking bow. “Goodnight, my dear,” he said lightly, as though he hadn’t just shattered your world.

Then he was gone, leaving you trembling on the floor, a hollow shell of anger, fear, and heartbreak.

—

It had been months since your last encounter with the Emperor. Tonight, he was returning from a diplomatic trip overseas. All morning, Courtesans and nursemaids visited to remind you of your wifely duties. They whispered about your dwindling fertility window, urging you to try for a child before it was too late.

You prayed he’d be too exhausted from his journey to come to your chambers. But you knew better. Time away from the Palace always left him restless.

You hadn’t forgiven him for sending Mingi away. Of course, he hadn’t apologized—he never did. Hongjoong likely believed that with time and distance, you’d forget. That you’d fall back into your role, returning to him as if nothing had happened. But the lack of replies from the letters he’d sent you during his absence told him otherwise.

Resigned to your fate, you lay on the grand bed in your best nightgown, the silk clinging to your skin. Waiting. At least it would be quick. The Emperor never lasted long anyway.

The heavy doors swung open, and Hongjoong entered, still wearing his elaborate robe. You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the ceiling as he began to undress. You braced yourself, mentally preparing for yet another empty, soulless night.

Hongjoong broke the silence. “I take it you’re still angry I took your toy away?”

The arrogance in his voice made your skin crawl. You hated how he spoke of Mingi, reducing him to an object. A plaything. As if you hadn’t cared for him deeply. As if Hongjoong’s own heart wasn’t capable of understanding such feelings.

“Are you going to talk at all tonight?”

You stayed calm, swallowing the retort burning in your throat. “I’m not here to talk, remember? We have a duty to fulfill.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, you make it sound so dull. Like we’re here to do paperwork or something.”

You didn’t answer. He busied himself removing his rings, laying them on the table beside you. His gaze landed on a pile of familiar envelopes, all sealed, untouched, and forgotten.

“You didn’t even bother opening these?” he asked, his voice tighter than before.

You sighed, unmoved. “Were they urgent?”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face. “No,” he admitted, quieter now, “but…”

He trailed off, his confidence suddenly faltering. You had no idea how much those letters meant to him. Each word, each line, was an attempt to ease the guilt that haunted him during his travels. He had replayed the memory of your tears over and over, trying to drown his regret in ink and sentiment. Yet now, staring at the unopened letters, he realized it had all been for nothing.

“You know, you hurt me too,” he blurted.

That caught your attention. You sat up, furrowing your brows. “Me?” you echoed, incredulous. “How? By doing the very thing you told me to do?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Your laugh was sharp and bitter. “Why? Because only you get to sleep with other people?”

Hongjoong scoffed, brushing off your words with a wave of his hand. “What I do is different from what you did.”

“Different?” you snapped. “How? How is it any different?”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. His voice dropped, quieter but seething with rage. “Because I don’t fall in love with them!”

The room fell silent, his words ringing in your ears.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Was he more hurt over the possibility that you had feelings for Mingi than the fact that you’d shared nights with him? The absurdity of it made your head spin.

But then he said something that chilled you to the core.

“Seeing you cry over that bastard…” He paused, his voice tight with unspoken pain. “It enraged me. I wondered—would you ever cry for me like that?”

His admission hung heavy in the air. For the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes.

“You must be drunk,” you said quietly, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Come, lay down—”

“I’m as clear-headed as I’ve ever been,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but slightly slurred, betraying the truth. You noticed his steps wavered as he began pacing the room again, the hem of his robe brushing unevenly against the floor.

His words came faster now, laced with frustration and desperation, his worries of masking his inebriation quickly dissolving. “When you married me, you promised me your loyalty. It didn’t matter who you spent your nights with, as long as you returned to me. But instead, you gave him your heart.”

You stared at him, stunned. His jealousy, his possessiveness—it was suffocating. Yet there was something almost pitiable in the way he looked at you, as if your betrayal had cracked something deep within him.

He stopped pacing, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You belong to me,” he said through his wine-stained lips, his voice low and firm. “Your mind. Your body. Your soul. Your loyalty. Your love. All of it. And I’ll be damned if I ever let another man take what’s mine.”

Before you could even digest all of what he said, Hongjoong climbed up on the bed, nestling himself between your legs. Your breath hitched upon feeling the softness of his lips trace over your inner thigh, planting slow and messy kisses all over your soft skin.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked flabbergasted, not used to seeing him in this position. 

His arms wrapped from under your legs, locking you in place. “Showing you my full potential.” 

—

Your body tensed with each flick of his tongue. You held back your moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but your sweat coated breasts and your shaky, quiet breaths betrayed you. He held onto your thighs as he tasted you, gliding his tongue in tortuously long and slow strokes. 

When you looked down, you were in awe at his focus, his brows furrowed in concentration, and saliva running down his chin as he savored you like a long-awaited meal. You felt trapped under him. Each time you got closer, he could sense it in the way your body braced itself, and he’d slow down again, ghosting his tongue over your parted folds, making you mentally curse him for stealing yet another rush of relief from you. 

You had reached your breaking point, and although you remained utterly mute, Hongjoong understood your frustration. Like an answered prayer, his tongue swirled briefly around your throbbing nub, before finally wrapping his wine-stained lips over your aching bud. 

As he suckled at your clit, you had no choice but to gasp out loud, your dry voice cracking as he consumed you. He purred into your cunt, smug with himself for finally breaking you. His craving for you grew even stronger, and he pulled you closer to him, his hips now rutting against the mattress. 

“You taste exquisite, Empress,” he breathed into your cunt, which didn’t fail to send goosebumps all over your exposed flesh, “Need to taste your cum next.” 

What felt like hours of edging had finally caught up with you, and your breathing started to get shaky again. Your hands slipped into his dark strands, holding onto them tightly as your hips jerked up, the fire in your abdomen finally snapping as you cried out, your milky white essence dripping onto Hongjoong’s tongue just as he desired. 

You collapsed back into the mattress, your vision blurring as he continued lapping at your sensitive cunt. He drank up every drop from your puffy, tender lips, his hand resting at your stomach to help bring you down from your high. You melted into the mattress as his lips shifted from your dripping cunt to your inner thigh, kissing and biting at your soft skin while he waited for you to steady your breathing. 

You looked down and met his deep, velvety gaze, his glassy eyes and slick-coated lips hitching your breath. In this moment, you took each other in. His once neatly top-knotted hair now loosely hung over his forehead, all roughed up from when you tugged and pulled at it earlier. You were disheveled yourself, your pretty lilac nightdress now sweat-drenched, the loose strands of your hair stuck to your rosy-red cheeks. He watched silently as your breasts which were barely covered by the hem of your dress, most likely hiked up from your convulsions, heaved up and down. 

You were a vision unlike anything he’d ever encountered. He had just returned from a journey that took him across vast snowy peaks and through valleys kissed by the first blush of cherry blossoms. Yet, the sight of you lying here, draped in soft shadows and the moonlight shining in from the window, surpassed the beauty of every natural wonder he’d seen. You were alluring—a temptation so profound it made the grandeur of the world seem pale in comparison.

"So foolish," he murmured, his voice low and thick as he hovered over you now, the heat of his breath brushing against your skin. His face lingered just a breath away, his eyes drinking you in. What he wanted to say—how foolish he’d been to neglect you, to waste time when he should have been losing himself in you—caught in his throat, heavy and unsaid.

Instead, he let his actions speak. His head dipped slowly and his lips found yours, claiming them with a hunger that had been simmering for far too long. You met him with equal fervor, surrendering completely to the kiss and tasting your sweetness on his lips, pulling him closer, tighter, as though you could make up for all the lost time in that single, stolen moment.

“Get on your knees,” He instructed after pulling away from the kiss, a tinge of impatience and restlessness painted in his voice. You obeyed his order, pivoting yourself from your back to your hands and knees. 

His hands gripped your hips eagerly, securing you in place as he lined himself up with you, giving his throbbing shaft a few pumps before sliding into your wet walls. You inhaled sharply as he entered you, his hard cock stuffing you so deliciously that you were forced to make a strangled moan, grasping at the silky sheets from under you to brace yourself. 

You had never been in this position with him before. It was always missionary as it was the best option for ensuring a successful pregnancy, but from this angle, his cock hit you so deep, his balls swinging and smacking into your aching clit as he thrust into you harshly. 

Your loud and lewd screams left Hongjoong teeming with ecstasy. He smirked as he watched you from behind, her royal highness, who was always so primmed and polished, so graceful in the way she walked and spoke, now babbling sinful moans, her makeup running, her hair tousled, covering him with her sticky juices as she cried and begged him to go faster, harder. He felt honored to see you like this. 

The wine made Hongjoong fatigued, and he slowed down his pace, which was a little too slow for your liking. Your brain had already turned to mush, and your hips started to have a mind of its own, forcing you to fuck yourself on his cock to reach your high faster. Hongjoong cooed as he watched you, his cock throbbing at the sight of you taking matters into your own hands. 

“You forget yourself, Empress,” He teased, placing a hand on your mid-back. He caressed your skin, watching your stretched-out pussy take him whole. 

“Just shut up and cum inside me already,” You huffed, your composure crumbling, giving way to raw frustration. 

A spark ignited in his eyes, a glimmer of something untamed and primal seeping through. His weariness evaporated and a renewed vitality coursed through him. He lifted you and pulled you into his chest, his hand sliding around your neck, fingers tracing your pulse before tightening just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Want my cum?” He rasped into your ear, lips smashed against your hot skin, his hips never letting go of that rough pace, “you want it?” 

“Yes, p-please!” You choked, your salty tears falling onto your reddened lips, “Want it all!” 

His grasp tightened around your neck, fucking into you so raggedly now that there was a moment he thought he could break you. “Gonna take it all?” He growled, “All of me in that little pussy? Who’s fucking pussy is this?” 

Your head swam, a dizzying mix of exhilaration and the sharp, intoxicating absence of air. The rush of excitement left you lightheaded and entirely consumed by the moment. 

“Yours!” You cried out, “It’s all yours!” 

With a satisfied smirk, he watched you dissolve in pleasure, finally letting go of your throat as he shot his load into you, a mixture of your wetness and his creamy white dripping out of your cunt. You felt all your strength leave you as you came down, letting yourself be held up by Hongjoong, your head nestled between his chin and shoulder. 

“That’s right baby,” he pressed a few gentle kisses on your sweaty temple as he pumped his cum back into you, pushing deeper and deeper to make sure you don’t waste a single drop of him, “Your mine, all mine…”

a/n: feedback is appreciated

[lenny-link]

Fusions! :D ✨

< part one >

Description of the fusions:

Citrine is the perfect blend of calculated genius and unhinged ambition. With the cold precision of engineer and the fervor of medic, and his many mechanical arms that move with precise accuracy, he is as captivating as he is terrifying

charming yet unsettling, he likes pushing the boundaries of science and logic. Citrine speaks with a smooth, calculated confidence, always one step ahead, never not prepared

Weapon: The Shock Therapy (one of Medic’s melee weapons from TF2 classic) he can shoot little capsules to heal his teammates (just like Crusaders Crossbow/ Rescue Ranger) and give shocks to who ever he punches. whether he id building, healing, or “improving” those around him, one thing is certain: with Citrine in the lab, science is never boring

Sugilite, yes he is entirely inspired by the artist Prince, it started accidentally, whenever i work on his design it will always lean into Prince’s purple rain outfit, so i simply took it xD

he is the embodiment of chaos wrapped in velvet and mixed with stardust. He moves with the grace of a performer, every step a dance, every word is dripping with charm

He speaks in a voice as rich as a glass of wine, but his mind is full of mischief and unpredictable power. he’ll sweep you off your feet with a silver tongued compliment, only to forget about you the next second. He treats war more like an extravagant party where he is both the host and grand finale

Weapons: disco-ball bombs/ smoke bombs. he uses his bombs and when he wants to make a dramatic exit, he’ll toss one of his disco bombs at the ground and a burst of sparkling smoke fills the battlefield, letting him vanish in a cloud of colors and dust

Kunzite is silence, just like a ghost in the night, a presence felt but never seen. moving with grace, he is as precise as he is elusive, striking his blade only when the moment is right. his piercing purple eyes sees every weakness, every flaw, every opportunity, his long cape drifts behind him like smoke, his steps lighter than a whisper

Kunzite does not talk. he can, but prefers not to. A single look from him speaks more than an entire conversation, and his presence alone is enough to make even the most hardened gems uneasy. he is neither cruel nor kind, neither merciful nor sadistic, he is simply exists in the quiet. by the time you realize he’s there, it’s already too late

Weapon: darts + hidden blades. The darts he carries, are launched with the precise accuracy of a huntsman. And when the distance closes, the hidden blades beneath his wrists strike with the speed of an assassin, no hesitation, no excess force, just cold, calculated efficiency

Rainbow Quartz (kind of takes the place of Stevonnie) they are a ball of both energy and strategy, they lay between calculated precision and impulsive enthusiasm. They are loyal, affectionate and very clumsy. They often feel insecure and constantly have the need to prove themselves. but beneath their playful personality lies a sharp mind, constantly adjusting, and planning their next move, even if their feet sometimes move faster than their brain

They follows orders with lots of enthusiasm, sometimes a little too much, leading to moments of clumsiness. they’ll execute a plan flawlessly then right up trip over their own momentum, sending themselves (and sometimes their enemies) tumbling in a chaotic mess. but give them a goal, and they’ll chase it with relentless determination, never backing down until the job is done.

Weapon: the Flying Guillotine, its fast, unpredictable, and devastating in the right hands. just like them, it can be unpredictable, but when it hits, it hits hard

[amyzworldds]

HEYYYY i love your writing and how you always write so fast hihi btw i was wondering if you could do yn as the quiet 14th member of seventeen and how she always gets picked on by host whenever seventeen appears on tv show because of how quiet she is but before any of the member can defend her she replied to the host in the most sassy way possible??? and from that day she turns into a mini minghao hihi thank youuuu and take care 🩷

Title: Blossoming in Silence

Masterlist

Seventeen’s shy maknae, evolves from a quiet, blushing observer to a sassy force under Minghao’s guidance. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff

The members sprawled across couches and chairs, waiting for their producer, Bumzu, to arrive. The room hummed with the usual banter—Jeonghan teasing Mingyu about his latest cooking disaster, Woozi scribbling notes on a pad, and Dino trying to convince Hoshi to join him in a TikTok dance challenge. Amid the lively chatter, Y/N, the group’s beloved maknae, was in a rare mood. She was usually the quiet one, her shy nature painting her as the soft-spoken shadow who preferred observing over speaking. But today, she was a burst of energy, clinging to Seungcheol’s arm as she animatedly shared a story about her favorite stray cat.

Y/N had always been reserved. When she joined Seventeen, fresh from the trainee life, her wide-eyed silence made her seem like a fragile porcelain doll. She’d answer questions with a nod or a whispered word, her cheeks flaming red if anyone teased her too much. The members quickly learned she wasn’t distant—just painfully shy. They adored her for it. To them, Y/N was their baby sister, a treasure they protected fiercely. They’d melt whenever she spoke, hanging onto her rare words like they were precious gems. Publicly, they kept their teasing gentle, never wanting to push her past her comfort zone. But in private? That’s when the playful chaos unfolded—poking at her blushing cheeks, ruffling her hair, and laughing when she’d squeak in protest.

Her clinginess was even rarer. Y/N usually kept to herself, maybe curling up next to Joshua with a book or hovering near Wonwoo during practice. But on days like today, when something sparked her excitement, she’d latch onto someone—today’s victim being Seungcheol—and the members would watch with heart-eyes, soaking in her fleeting openness.

“Cheollie oppa, you should’ve seen her!” Y/N’s voice bubbled as she tugged Seungcheol’s sleeve, her eyes sparkling. “Mimi—that’s what I named the cat—she was so brave! She had four kittens, and they’re so tiny, like little fluff balls!”

Seungcheol grinned, his dimples deepening as he leaned closer, nodding like her story was the most important thing in the world. “Four kittens, huh? Mimi’s a superstar. Did you name them yet?”

Y/N’s cheeks pinked, but she didn’t shy away. “Not yet, but I was thinking maybe… Cloud, Pancake, cheesecake, and… um, maybe Cookie? I don’t know!” She giggled, hiding her face briefly in Seungcheol’s shoulder.

Across the room, Vernon raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Cookie? Y/N, you’re gonna turn our dorm into a bakery with these names.”

The group chuckled, and Y/N’s blush deepened, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she stuck out her tongue at Vernon, a rare playful jab. “Better than your idea to name a dog ‘Dog’ last week!”

The room erupted in laughter, Vernon clutching his chest dramatically. “Yo, that was a concept! You’re savage today, maknae!”

Jeonghan, lounging on a beanbag, propped his chin on his hand, eyes glinting mischievously. “I like this Y/N. Clingy and sassy. Cheol, what’d you feed her this morning?”

Seungcheol chuckled, wrapping an arm around Y/N protectively. “Nothing! She’s just excited about her cat family. Right, Y/N?”

“Mhm!” Y/N nodded vigorously, her ponytail bouncing. “They’re living outside our dorm, but I bring them food and treats every day. Mimi trusts me now—she lets me pet her! But the kittens need a real home. I was thinking… maybe I could buy them a little cat house? Or find someone to adopt them?”

Woozi looked up from his notebook, his serious producer face softening. “A cat house? That’s ambitious. You gonna build it yourself, kid?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she waved her hands frantically. “No, no! I meant, like, buy one! I’m not that handy!”

Mingyu snorted, leaning forward with a teasing grin. “Oh, come on, Y/N. I bet you and Wonwoo could make a cat mansion. Right, Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo, who’d been quietly sipping coffee, glanced up with a small smile. “Leave me out of this. But Y/N, you’re doing good with those cats. They’re lucky to have you.”

Y/N beamed at the praise, her shY/Ness creeping back just enough to make her duck her head. “Thanks, Wonu oppa…”

Hoshi, bouncing in his seat, clapped his hands. “Okay, but imagine! We adopt all the kittens, and they become Seventeen’s official mascots! Picture it: tiny cats in little carat-colored sweaters!”

“Hoshi, no!” Joshua laughed, shaking his head. “We can barely keep up with you in the dorm. Don’t add cats to the chaos.”

“But they’d be so cute!” Hoshi whined, turning to Y/N. “Back me up, Y/N! You want the kittens in sweaters, right?”

Y/N giggled, her fingers twisting in Seungcheol’s sleeve. “Maybe… just one sweater? For Cookie?”

The room cooed in unison, the members melting at her soft admission. DK leaned over, ruffling her hair gently. “You’re too cute, Y/N. We’re gonna have to fight over who gets to adopt Cookie now.”

“No fighting!” Y/N squeaked, her voice half-laugh, half-protest. “They need nice homes, not a wrestling match!”

Seungkwan, who’d been scrolling on his phone, looked up with a grin. “Y/N, you’re practically their mom already. You sure you’re ready to give them up?”

Y/N paused, her excitement dimming for a moment as she thought it over. “I… I want them to be safe. Even if it means I can’t keep them. But I’ll miss them a lot…”

The room softened, the teasing energy giving way to warmth. Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder gently. “You’re doing the right thing, Y/N. We’ll help you find them good homes, okay? No one’s better at taking care of others than you.”

Y/N smiled shyly, leaning into him. “Thanks, oppa… You guys are the best.”

Dino, who’d been unusually quiet, piped up with a playful smirk. “Yeah, we’re the best—until you start yapping about cats again and we all turn into your personal audience!”

“Yah!” Y/N huffed, tossing a crumpled tissue at him, her blush returning full force as the room burst into laughter again.

As the teasing resumed, Y/N settled back against Seungcheol, her rare chatter fading into a content smile. The members kept stealing glances at her, their baby sister who could light up the room with just a few words. They wouldn’t trade these moments—or her—for anything.

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

Over the next month, Y/N’s quiet presence found a new anchor in Seventeen’s Xu Minghao. While Y/N’s shyness wrapped her in a soft, blushing cocoon, Minghao’s silence was a different beast—sharp, deliberate, and laced with a sassy edge that could cut through any nonsense with a single deadpan quip. Her rare bursts of chatter treasured like gold. But lately, the members noticed her gravitating toward Minghao, the one whose quiet wasn’t timid but commanding, like a cat that didn’t need to roar to make you feel small.

It started subtly. During practice breaks, Y/N would plop down beside Minghao, her knees tucked up as she sipped from a water bottle, listening intently as he critiqued a dance move or tossed a dry remark at Hoshi’s over-the-top antics. Minghao, for his part, seemed to welcome her company. He’d always been fond of Y/N, charmed by her gentle nature, but he never pushed her to talk. Instead, he’d offer a calm space where she could just be. Soon, she was trailing him like a shy shadow, and the members couldn’t help but notice.

One afternoon, Minghao invited Y/N to a tea ceremony he’d set up in a quiet corner of their dorm. It was a ritual he cherished—porcelain cups, steaming water, and the slow art of brewing loose leaves. Y/N, curious and a little nervous, sat cross-legged across from him, her hands fidgeting.

“Oppa, am I doing this right?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she held a teacup with both hands, mimicking his careful grip.

Minghao’s lips quirked, his eyes glinting with that signature sharpness. “You’re holding it like it’s a grenade, Y/N. Relax. The tea’s not gonna bite.”

She giggled, her cheeks pinking, but she loosened her grip, watching as he poured another round with practiced grace. “It’s so… fancy. I thought tea was just, like, a bag in hot water.”

He raised an eyebrow, his tone dry as desert sand. “A bag? Y/N, that’s not tea. That’s an insult to civilization.”

Y/N laughed, a soft, bubbling sound that made Minghao’s stern facade crack into a small smile. “Okay, okay! I get it. This is better. It smells nice too.”

“Told you,” he said, leaning back with his own cup. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you how to live with taste.”

The tea ceremonies became their thing. Every few days, Minghao would set up his little setup, and Y/N would join, her shY/Ness melting as she learned to appreciate the bitter-sweet notes of oolong and the calm of the ritual. Sometimes, he’d coax her into meditation afterward, guiding her to sit still and breathe deeply. She’d squirm at first, peeking at him through half-closed eyes, but his steady presence kept her grounded.

“Hao oppa, how do you sit so still?” she mumbled once, her legs already twitching five minutes into a session. “I feel like ants are crawling on me.”

He didn’t even open his eyes, his voice flat but teasing. “That’s just your brain throwing a tantrum. Tell it to shut up and breathe.”

“Rude!” she huffed, but she tried again, biting back a smile. His bluntness was oddly comforting—no sugarcoating, just truth with a side of sass.

The other members, however, weren’t entirely thrilled. They’d catch glimpses of Y/N and Minghao sipping tea or meditating in the dorm’s common room, and jealous glances would fly. During one practice, Seungcheol nudged Jeonghan, nodding toward the pair sitting cross-legged on the floor, Y/N giggling at something Minghao said.

“Look at that,” Seungcheol muttered, arms crossed. “Hao’s stealing our maknae.”

Jeonghan smirked, but his eyes narrowed. “He’s got her drinking tea now. Tea! She used to beg me for strawberry milk.”

Across the room, Hoshi pouted, his voice louder than necessary. “Y/N! You’re not gonna start wearing all black and quoting poetry like Hao, are you?”

Y/N’s head snapped up, her face flaming. “Oppa, no! I just… I like the tea, okay?”

Minghao didn’t even look at Hoshi, sipping his water with a smug air. “She’s got better taste than you, Hoshi. Let her live.”

“Yah!” Hoshi clutched his chest, feigning betrayal, while the others laughed. “Y/N, blink twice if he’s brainwashing you!”

“I’m fine!” Y/N squeaked, burying her face in her hands, though her muffled giggles gave her away.

DK leaned toward Joshua, whispering, “You think Hao’s teaching her to be all zen? I miss her clinging to Cheol and yapping about cats.”

Joshua chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, she’s still our Y/N. She’s just… borrowing Hao’s vibe for a bit.”

The jealousy was playful, mostly. The members knew Minghao wasn’t stealing her—they’d seen how Y/N still lit up during group dinners, blushing when Vernon teased her or clinging to Seungcheol when she was tired. But Minghao’s quiet pull had unlocked something new in her. She wasn’t just the shy maknae anymore; she was starting to carry a hint of his confidence, even if it was just in the way she’d sip tea and roll her eyes when Dino tried to prank her.

One evening, during a rare group movie night, Y/N curled up on the couch next to Minghao, a mug of chamomile in her hands—a gift from him. The members kept sneaking glances, their protective instincts tinged with amusement. Woozi finally broke the silence, his tone teasing but warm.

“Y/N, you’re a tea snob now, huh?” he called out, smirking. “What happened to our juice-box maknae?”

Y/N stuck out her tongue, a spark of Minghao’s sass in her eyes. “Juice is for babies, oppa. Tea’s classy.”

The room exploded in mock gasps, Mingyu clutching his heart. “She’s gone full Hao! We’ve lost her!”

Minghao just smirked, nudging Y/N’s shoulder. “Told you, kid. Stick with me, and you’ll run this place someday.”

“Hao oppa, stop!” Y/N laughed, swatting him, her blush returning but her smile brighter than ever.

As the movie played on, the members settled down, their jealousy fading into fondness. Y/N was still their baby sister, shy and sweet, but watching her bloom a little under Minghao’s wing? That was something they could all cheer for—even if they’d never admit it out loud.

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

The studio lights blazed down on Seventeen as they sat in a colorful, semicircular setup for a variety show, their latest comeback promotion in full swing. The set buzzed with energy—bright backdrops, a live audience cheering, and a host known for his bold, sometimes chaotic style. The thirteen members, plus their cherished maknae Y/N, were decked out in coordinated outfits, their new album’s aesthetic shining through. Y/N sat at the back corner, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a shy smile playing on her lips. She was quieter than usual, her wide eyes taking in the whirlwind of questions and laughter around her.

The host, a middle-aged man with a flashy suit and a penchant for stirring the pot, had been lobbing questions at the group for the past twenty minutes. Most were standard—details about the album’s concept, funny behind-the-scenes stories, or who was the messiest in the dorm (Vernon and Hoshi took that hit with a sheepish grin). The members were in their element, with Seungcheol leading the answers, Jeonghan tossing witty remarks, and Hoshi stealing the spotlight with exaggerated reenactments of their choreography fails. Y/N, though, stayed silent, giggling softly at her members’ antics but keeping her words to herself. It wasn’t unusual—her shy nature often made her the quiet observer in public settings, and the members were used to shielding her from too much attention.

But the host noticed her silence, his eyes zeroing in on Y/N like a hawk spotting prey. He leaned forward, his grin a little too sharp, and the mood in the room shifted subtly.

“So, Y/N,” he began, his voice carrying a teasing lilt, “you’ve been awfully quiet back there. Are you always this shy, or are you just saving your voice for something big?”

The audience chuckled, and Y/N’s cheeks flushed pink. She gave a small nod, her voice soft but steady. “I’m just… listening, sunbaenim. The members are doing a great job answering.”

Seungcheol shot her a reassuring smile from the front row, and Joshua nodded encouragingly. The members were ready to pivot the conversation, but the host wasn’t done. He leaned back, tapping his chin as if deep in thought, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Listening, huh? That’s cute. But come on, you’re the maknae of Seventeen! Surely you’ve got some wild stories. Maybe… a secret crush among the members?” He winked at the audience, who erupted in gasps and giggles.

The air tensed instantly. Y/N’s eyes widened, her blush deepening, and the members’ smiles faltered. Jeonghan’s jaw tightened, and Vernon’s hand twitched like he was ready to grab a mic and shut it down. They’d dealt with pushy hosts before, but this was crossing a line—especially with Y/N, who they protected like a little sister. Seungcheol opened his mouth to steer things back, but the host barreled on, oblivious or uncaring.

“Or maybe,” he continued, his tone growing bolder, “you’re so quiet because you’re overwhelmed by all these handsome guys, huh? Who’s your type, Y/N? Give us a hint!”

The audience laughed again, but it was strained now. Woozi’s eyes narrowed, and Hoshi’s usual grin was gone, replaced by a hard stare. Mingyu leaned forward, his knuckles white against his knee, while DK whispered something to Dino, who looked ready to leap out of his seat. They’d stayed silent to keep things professional, but this was too far—Y/N didn’t deserve to be cornered like this.

Before any of them could snap, Y/N sat up straighter, her shy demeanor shifting. Her eyes, usually soft and hesitant, glinted with something new—something sharp, borrowed straight from the Minghao school of sass. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a smile that was polite but laced with venom. The room seemed to hold its breath.

“My type, sunbaenim?” she said, her voice clear and deceptively sweet. “Well, I like people who ask interesting questions. You know, ones that don’t make everyone in the room cringe.”

The audience gasped, then burst into laughter, louder than before. The host blinked, caught off guard, his grin faltering. The members froze, their eyes darting to Y/N in a mix of shock and delight. Minghao, seated a few spots away, leaned back with a smug smirk, his arms crossed like a proud mentor watching his protégé shine.

The host tried to recover, chuckling awkwardly. “Oh, feisty! Okay, okay, I’ll bite. What’s an interesting question then, Y/N? Educate me.”

Y/N didn’t miss a beat, her tone dripping with the same deadpan sarcasm Minghao wielded like a blade. “Maybe ask about our album? Since, you know, that’s why we’re here. Or do you only care about gossip that doesn’t exist?”

The audience roared, clapping wildly, and the members couldn’t hold it in anymore. Vernon muffled a laugh behind his hand, his shoulders shaking. Seungkwan bit his lip to keep from cackling, while Jeonghan leaned toward Joshua, whispering, “She’s wrecking him.”

The host’s face reddened, but he pressed on, clearly underestimating the maknae. “Alright, fair enough! But come on, Y/N, you’re so mysterious. Gotta give us something. What’s it like being the only girl in Seventeen? Ever feel like you’re in over your head?”

It was another jab, thinly veiled as curiosity, and the members’ patience snapped. Seungcheol’s hand clenched into a fist, and Woozi was half a second from cutting in with something sharp. But Y/N was already leaning forward, her smile now a full-on weapon, her voice steady and laced with sarcasm so precise it could’ve been scripted by Minghao himself.

“In over my head?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Sunbaenim, I’m surrounded by thirteen guys who can’t find their socks without me. If anyone’s in over their head, it’s them. But sure, tell me more about how I’m the one struggling.”

The studio erupted—audience screaming, staff stifling laughs, and the members losing it. Hoshi slapped Mingyu’s arm, wheezing, “She’s killing him!” DK was doubled over, clutching Joshua for support, while Dino pumped his fist like he was at a concert. “That’s our maknae!” he shouted, barely audible over the chaos.

Minghao’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with pride. He leaned toward Wonwoo, muttering, “Told you she’s got it. That’s my work right there.”

Wonwoo snorted, shaking his head. “You created a monster, Hao.”

The host, now visibly flustered, raised his hands in surrender, his cocky demeanor crumbling. “Okay, okay, Y/N! You win! I’ll stick to the album questions from now on, promise!”

Y/N leaned back, her sass fading into her usual shy smile, though her eyes still sparkled with mischief. “Good idea, sunbaenim. We’ve got a lot to say about the music.”

Seungcheol finally stepped in, his tone firm but warm, redirecting the conversation like the leader he was. “Speaking of the album, we poured a lot into this comeback. Y/N actually had some great ideas for the choreography—maybe we can talk about that?”

The host latched onto the lifeline, pivoting to safer ground, and the interview continued smoothly. But the members couldn’t stop stealing glances at Y/N, their quiet maknae who’d just turned the tables with a few razor-sharp words. Vernon leaned over during a break, grinning. “Y/N, where was that hiding? You’re scary when you want to be.”

She ducked her head, her blush returning. “I just… didn’t like his questions. They were mean.”

Jeonghan ruffled her hair, chuckling. “Mean or not, you handled it like a pro. We were ready to jump him, but you didn’t need us.”

“Yeah, but don’t make a habit of it,” Seungkwan teased, pointing at her. “We’re supposed to be the ones defending you, not the other way around!”

Y/N giggled, her shyness creeping back, but Minghao caught her eye from across the set. He gave her a subtle nod, his smirk saying it all: That’s my girl. She smiled back, a little prouder, a little bolder, knowing her members had her back—and that she could hold her own when it mattered.

As the show wrapped, the members crowded around her backstage, their protective energy mixed with awe. Hoshi slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning. “Y/N, you’re our secret weapon now. Next comeback, you’re answering all the questions!”

“No way!” she protested, hiding her face in her hands, but her laughter gave her away.

Minghao watched from the side, his smugness softening into something warmer. He’d taught her to stand tall in her own quiet way, and today, she’d shown the world—and the host—what Seventeen’s maknae was made of. The members might tease her later, might bicker over who got to claim credit for her newfound fire, but one thing was clear: Y/N was their baby sister, shy but unstoppable, and they wouldn’t have her any other way.

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

A year had passed since the infamous variety show interview, and the internet hadn’t forgotten. Clips of Y/N’s razor-sharp takedown of the host had resurfaced, trending across platforms with fans dubbing her “The8’s girl version” and “Little The8.” The comments sections buzzed with praise—“She roasted him so politely, I’m in awe!” and “Protect Y/N at all costs, but also, she doesn’t need it!” The outrage over the host’s inappropriate questions, especially toward an underage girl, had cemented SEVENTEEN’s decision: they’d never work with that show again. More importantly, Y/N, had grown into her own—a quiet firecracker who carried Minghao’s sass like a second skin, much to her members’ delight.

The dorm, life was louder and livelier with Y/N’s evolution. She was still their shy maknae, blushing at compliments and hiding behind Seungcheol during chaotic moments, but her newfound confidence shone through. Where she once stayed silent during interviews, she now answered with a blend of politeness and biting wit, her words so effortlessly sharp they left hosts scrambling to keep up. The members loved it, often leaning back with grins as she handled nosy questions with the grace of a diplomat and the sting of a wasp.

During a recent radio interview to promote their latest mini-album, the host had asked about their group dY/Namics, then turned to Y/N with a playful but pointed question. “Y/N, you’re surrounded by thirteen talented guys. Ever get tired of being the baby? Or do they spoil you too much?”

Y/N tilted her head, her smile sweet but her eyes glinting with mischief. “Spoil me? Sunbaenim, they can barely keep up with me. I’m the one reminding Mingyu oppa where he parked his car last week.”

The studio erupted in laughter, Mingyu clutching his chest in mock offense. “Yah, Y/N! That was one time!”

“One time too many,” she shot back, her voice light but her smirk pure Minghao. The host chuckled, clearly impressed, and the members exchanged proud glances. Seungcheol leaned toward Jeonghan, muttering, “She’s unstoppable now.”

Back at the dorm, Y/N’s sass wasn’t reserved for interviews. The members, who’d always teased her for her quick blushes, now faced a maknae who fought back—cutely, of course, but with enough bite to keep them on their toes. One evening, as they lounged in the living room debating takeout options, Hoshi decided to poke the bear.

“Y/N, you’re so quiet tonight,” he teased, grinning. “What’s wrong? Missing your stray cats again?”

Y/N, curled up on the couch with a mug of tea (a Minghao habit she’d fully embraced), rolled her eyes. “Hoshi oppa, I’m quiet because I’m trying to save my energy for when you inevitably try to dance on the table later.”

The room howled, Hoshi gasping dramatically. “Excuse me? I’m a professional, maknae!”

“Professionally chaotic,” she muttered, sipping her tea with a pointed look. Minghao, sitting nearby, snorted, giving her a subtle fist bump. “That’s my girl.”

Dino piled on, smirking. “She’s got you there, hyung. Y/N’s out here reading us like a book now.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue, but her cheeks pinked, a hint of the old shy girl peeking through. “You guys started it! Always teasing me. I learned from the best, though.” She pointed accusingly at Minghao, who raised his hands innocently.

“Don’t blame me,” he said, his tone dry but his eyes warm. “You were a diamond in the rough. I just polished you up.”

The teasing continued, but it was different now—less one-sided, more like a game they all played. Y/N’s comebacks were never mean, always delivered with a pout or a giggle that softened the blow, and the members couldn’t get enough. Still, sometimes she’d catch them looking at her with mock nostalgia, sighing about the “old Y/N” who’d just blush and hide.

One night, after a particularly lively practice session, the group sprawled across the studio floor, catching their breath. Vernon, ever the instigator, tossed a water bottle her way and grinned. “Y/N, remember when you’d turn red if we even looked at you? What happened to that kid?”

Y/N caught the bottle, narrowing her eyes playfully. “She grew up, oppa. Thanks to you all bullying me into it.”

“Bullying?!” Seungkwan gasped, clutching his heart. “We cherished you!”

“Cherished me into a corner,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Now I fight back, and you complain? Make up your minds!”

The group laughed, but Y/N’s pout deepened, her voice dropping to a softer tone. “What, don’t you like the new me? I thought you wanted me to be tough…”

The shift was instant. Seungcheol sat up, his leader instincts kicking in, and pulled her into a side hug. “Are you kidding? We love the new you. Old you, new you, sassy you—we love all of you.”

Joshua nodded, ruffling her hair. “Yeah, you’re still our Y/N. Just with a little extra spice now.”

DK piled on, wrapping her in a bear hug from the other side. “You’re like… a cute chili pepper! Tiny but with a kick!”

“A chili pepper?!” Y/N squeaked, laughing despite herself, her pout melting away. “That’s so bad, oppa!”

Minghao watched from the sidelines, his usual smirk softened by fondness. “They’re right, you know. You’re still you. Just… you with better comebacks.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, but her eyes sparkled. “This is your fault, Hao oppa. You turned me into a mini you!”

“Guilty,” he said, shrugging unapologetically. “But you wear it well.”

The group piled into a chaotic group hug, Y/N squished in the middle, her laughter muffled as she protested, “I can’t breathe, you weirdos!”

As they pulled back, Woozi caught her eye, his tone serious but warm. “For real, Y/N. We love the sass. It’s good you can hold your own now. But you know we’re always here, right? Sassy or not, you’re our maknae.”

Y/N nodded, her smile shy but genuine. “I know, oppa. Thanks… for everything.”

Later, as they headed back to the dorm, Y/N walked between Minghao and Jeonghan, her tea mug tucked into her bag and her heart full. The resurfaced clips online, the “Little Minghao” nickname, the pride in her members’ eyes—it all reminded her how far she’d come. She was still their shy baby sister, but now she had a voice, a spark, a way to stand tall when the world got too loud. And whether she was roasting a host or pouting for hugs, her thirteen protectors would always be there, cheering for every version of her.

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an: And I'm officially back, guys!!! Woohoo! I’ll start editing all the requests I’ve written before and will post them soon. Sorry for ghosting you guys, HAHAHAHAHAHA, but yeah, I’m back!

[niresenrab]

The 141 after retirement (Soap lives AU)

Price realized 37 years in that he's been all over the world, but he hasn't actually seen much of it. He wants to travel the world. Go hiking in the mountains just to enjoy the view without being shot at. Go to a cafe and savor his coffee without scouting out a target. Look out during a flight just to enjoy the sight of the clouds below him without thinking about RPGs. He wants to curl up in bed with Nikolai and just enjoy his company without a transaction. He decides to take his big Russian husband to travel the world with him. Price starts a travel blog to keep his boys updated on their trips.

Ghost is struggling to adapt to retirement. He's not used to having free time, always going on missions or training recruits. Something. Anyways, he gets really into sculpting. He already has experience with mask making, and this isn't much different. He'll use any kind of material. Wood? Widdling is basically sculpture. Clay? A bit frail, but he can work with this. Stone? They now have a massive statue in the front lawn. Ghost can also fuck it up with paper mache. He is on pinata duty for forever, and he'll make them of anything. One of Gaz's kids is really into sea bears? He can work with that.

Gaz has three kids, a wife, and a chunky cat that he takes on trips with a backpack. He hosts monthly dinners for the team to catch up. One of his kids called Ghost "Uncle Goose", and now all of the Garrick kids call Ghost "Goose". Farah gets to be the cool aunt that teaches the kids things that she shouldn't be teaching them. Price definitely takes the role of the dad that sits in the armchair and takes loud open mouthed naps during their gatherings. Gaz wonders why he keeps hosting these dinners.

Soap and Ghost got married shortly after Ghost retired. Johnny was not expecting to come home to a house full of new sculptures, but he completely accepted the change. He helped Ghost renovate the guest room into an art studio with his drawing stuff on one side and Ghost's sculpting stuff on another. A few of their pieces even made it into galleries.

Nikolai, obviously, retired the second Price did. He travels with Price regularly, but likes to teach a mechanics class at the local community college in his free time. Of course he shows off his black hawk to the students, but they can only tinker with the cheaper aircrafts (as if any of them cost less than a million). His classes fill up fast and he has the reputation for the cool teacher.

[theveryworstthing]

time to learn a little bit about the Yells. i've been writing a few lore posts for a while and instead of continuing to let they grow and fretting over them, i think i'm just going to throw a few out there and try to finish up the rest this week.

The Yells

Despite their imposing size, strange behaviors, and mysterious keepers, the Signallusc (or The Yells as most rabbits call them) are considered just another part of the island landscape. These towering faux trees serve as the island version of radio towers, and make all radio communication above and below ground possible.

Though the 2 largest of the naturally formed Yells are still upright and active (and heavily protected so that their natural life cycle can be properly studied), these days rabbits prefer to cultivate the towers so that they don’t grow in problematic areas or do…other things.

Wild or free growth Yells make their homes in dead rotting wood as natural decomposers, and many live out their lives as simple slime molds (or as simple as any slime mold can be). Certain conditions must be met to trigger the drastic color change and vertical growth that make them viable for communication use, and so wild Yells are usually found growing in small clusters in or around the resources they need to sustain their new forms. Dead trees or stumps with roots still in the ground are prime hosts for these slime molds and they’re actually seen as beneficial since they stabilize potentially dangerous dead trees and kill diseases or especially destructive insects that might harm surrounding living trees. Once inside these dead trees the slime mold eats them from the inside out, taking the branches first, and then devouring the mass from the top down.

Compared to other slime molds they can handle direct sunlight quite well, but wild yells still tend to favor hosts in shady areas and from the way these trees are devoured they seem to try and keep some sort of shell around them for as long as possible. This wooden shell not only serves as food, but also gives the growing Yell a moist, dark, home until its outer membrane is thick and strong enough to handle being constantly exposed. When wild Yells “die”, it’s usually because they’ve run out of host tree long ago, and have stiffened into a rigid structure that eventually cracks (usually due to being struck by lightning) and crumbles, releasing clouds of spores. The remains of a Yell dissolve in the first rain after they fall and tend to leave the area around the strange lotus pod-ish pit in the ground where “roots” used to be spotless, but smelling very metallic with a hint of foulness. Almost like not so fresh blood.

Through the observations recorded by island botanists and the specific botanical sect known as the Antenna, rabbits (and hares, as they were the first to investigate and made great strides in understanding the process before they left the island en masse) have learned exactly what triggers Yell vertical growth and have used this knowledge to cultivate Yells quite successfully. A combination of owl feathers, metal ore (mainly bog iron), charcoal sticks and or ash (best if created by lightning strike, wood preferred but animal remains like burned out hawks are perfectly acceptable), and a little starter wood are fed to the slime mold, and after it’s broken everything down it begins its transformation. It is then introduced to a host plant sprout, a type of fast growing, woody, creeping vine in the Grasp family bred specifically for this purpose (wild cultivars work fine but they’re half as hardy and the bond has a greater chance of triggering very upsetting mutations. These are different from the upsetting mutations, which are fine and harmless). From then on the slime mold seems to guide the host plant’s growth, forming a shell from the vines that is constantly growing and shedding. This serves as both a home and an ample food source.

The botany world is torn on whether this forms a mutualistic symbiotic relationship or whether it’s straight up parasitism. And yes, plant nerd blood has been spilled over this argument. Not a ton of blood, it’s not like this is the great lichen wars, but still.

The Antenna

All yell care-taking is done by the Antenna sect. This is a mysterious group of witchy botanists and engineers who, like the previously referred to upsetting mutations, are harmless despite their entire vibe. Well. Harmless enough for botanists anyway.

Not a lot is known about them by the general public but they keep things working smoothly and show up quickly when something isn’t.

Members of this sect haven’t had a set “look” or uniform for about a generation and a half due to the ending of a lot of the the founding member’s bloodlines, but each Yell site has it’s own culture that attracts certain kinds of people. Despite their differences, there are a few things that make Antennae easier to pick out of a crowd if you know what to look for. The skin of their inner ears develop thin branching markings or wave-like ripples depending on how they interact with Yells. Some have obvious hare ancestry and sport roughly branching horns that grow quite long and shed every year (these shed horns are fed to the Yells). Newer members wear a lot of lightweight ear jewelry to help pick up important signals and behavioral quirks from the Yells, but the longer they stay in the Antenna the less tolerant they are of this. Things get…loud. Behind their eyes. Inside their teeth. Seasoned members usually can’t stand wearing any metal jewelry at all. The head botanist of one of the most remote Yells wears ear plugs almost 24/7 because of left behind shrapnel from an accident in his youth.

He is deaf.

He says he’s not really blocking anything out, just sorting it properly.

No one really knows what he means. It’s fine.

[hatethysinner]

ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴄᴏɴᴛ'ᴅ)

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ x ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ!ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

prev. (please for the love of god click prev. if you've found yourself here without reading the first part)

You’d never seen a Broadway show before.

You’d expected to feel out of place, like a tourist in her best coat. But the usher had greeted you like royalty, guiding you to the front row with a smile that felt genuine. You’d sat with your knees politely crossed and your coat draped over your lap, the stage close enough to reach. You’d smiled at the actors, laughed at all the right parts. Company was sharp, wry, warm. A musical about loneliness. About timing. About love in the spaces where people think it doesn’t belong.

You’d cried once. Just a little.

Afterward, you’d wandered uptown on your own. Dinner at a quiet spot in Harlem where the host had remembered your name and called you “Miss.” You’d sipped a glass of red wine and picked at your trout while a man at the piano played something slow and familiar. The night stretched soft around your shoulders. A little glamorous. A little sad.

You took your time.

Let him have his.

By the time you reached the brownstone, the sky was ink-dark. The moon was high and pearled behind clouds. The air smelled like rain on brick.

You unlocked the door the way he taught you. Slow turn, slight jiggle, listen for the click.

You stepped inside.

And the stillness hit you first.

The living room was quiet. Too quiet. No radio playing. No jazz humming low from the bedroom. No sound at all except the faintest...

You froze.

There it was.

Wet. Rhythmic. A sound you couldn’t place. Something between a gurgle and a squelch. Like mud underfoot. Like-

Your head turned, slow.

Shoes.

Two of them. Polished black. Motionless. Poking out just beyond the hallway that led to the kitchen.

You didn’t call his name.

Didn’t ask if everything was alright.

You stepped closer.

Every footfall against the hardwood felt too loud, too deliberate. The hall stretched longer than it ever had before, each step a countdown to something you already felt in your bones.

The sound grew louder.

Sloppy. Viscous.

You stopped at the threshold.

And then you looked.

Remmick was crouched on the kitchen floor.

The tile beneath him was soaked red, shining like lacquer. Blood. Thick and heavy and slick. It pooled beneath his knees and splattered up the cabinet doors. You saw the body before you registered it fully. What was left of it, at least. The slumped shape. The loose limbs. The face frozen in a scream, neck torn wide like a second mouth.

Your mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

And he looked up.

His lips were slick and red. His eyes, glowing like hot coals, locked onto yours with the same warmth he’d shown you a hundred times before. Only now, there was something else there. Wild. Honest.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Slowly.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, smiling like he’d just come in from the corner store. “You’re home early.”

You didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

The blood was still dripping. Still warm. You could smell it now., metallic and raw. Thick in the air like smoke.

He stood.

Not hurried. Not ashamed.

He rose to his full height with a slow roll of his spine, body uncoiling like he’d just finished something necessary. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbow, stained near the cuffs. His hands were red to the wrist. His smile didn’t falter.

“I was gonna clean up before you got back,” he said, like it mattered.

You looked at the body again.

You knew that suit.

That face.

The editor.

The one who said no.

He stepped toward you.

You stepped back.

He stopped. Held his hands up like he was calming a skittish horse.

“Don’t be scared,” he said gently. “Please. I didn’t want you to see it like this.”

You blinked.

Then stepped back.

Not fast. Not loud.

Just one careful movement, like your body was trying to put space between you and something your mind hadn’t yet named aloud.

His smile faltered.

His hands, still wet, still gleaming red, hovered mid-air like he wasn’t sure whether to reach or retreat.

And for the first time since you’d met him, he looked monstrous.

Not charming.

Not strange.

Not off.

Monstrous.

His pupils had nearly disappeared, swallowed by that unnatural red. His jaw was too long now. Slack with hunger. His fangs had dropped fully, slick and impossibly sharp. They glinted when he opened his mouth, wider than a man should.

You saw something stringy between his teeth.

You could still hear the blood dripping from his elbows.

He stepped toward you.

You flinched.

“Wait-” he said quickly, hands lifting like that could stop the fear from blooming. “Please, sweetheart, don’t look at me like that.”

But you couldn’t help it.

You’d seen him look hungry before. You’d seen the flash of something inhuman behind his eyes in moments where the room was quiet and his guard was low.

But not like this.

Not dripping.

Not snarling beneath the sweetness.

Your back hit the wall behind you. You hadn’t realized you’d been moving.

He saw it.

And something in him cracked.

“No, no, darlin’, don’t be scared,” he rushed out, voice still soft, still syrupy.

He took another step, but slower now. Hesitant.

“I told you I’d take care of it,” he said, gesturing behind him to the ruin on the kitchen floor. “You remember? I said I’d handle it. I said you’d be on that cover. I meant it.”

His words were unraveling. Tipping between plea and reason and panic.

“You said you didn’t want to hear what might be said,” he said that, not you, “and baby, you don’t. You don’t wanna know what he called you. What he really thought. I couldn’t let that stand. I couldn’t.”

You shook your head.

He stopped.

Your chest was rising fast now, breath shallow, hands trembling at your sides.

And still, he looked at you like you were fragile in the center of a storm he’d made just for you.

The man you’d spent nights beside. Who cooked for you, who pressed kisses to your temple and whispered praise like prayers, was still standing in front of you.

But he wasn’t just a man.

His claws flexed once at his sides. Long and curved. Not like nails. Not even like knives.

Like bone.

Like talons.

He caught the way your eyes flicked to them.

You looked him over again, head to toe.

The blood had dried in places now. Gone dark where it soaked into the fabric of his shirt, crusted at the seam of his pants. His chest still heaved with exertion. With some leftover hunger that hadn’t yet dulled.

And yet, his expression held nothing but devastation.

Not at what he’d done.

But at how you looked at him now.

“Come here,” he whispered, holding out one hand like he was coaxing a wounded animal. “Please.”

You didn’t move.

“Darlin’.”

Still, you stayed frozen.

And so he did something desperate.

He dropped to his knees.

Right there, in the doorway, blood still tacky on the floor beneath him, he knelt.

Not like a threat.

Not like a beast.

Like a man begging to be believed.

“I’d never hurt you,” he said. “You gotta know that. I’d never touch you wrong. Never scare you like this if I didn’t think- I thought you’d understand. I thought you might-”

He cut himself off.

Lowered his head.

And for the first time since you’d stepped through the door, he looked small.

Not because he was.

But because the only thing bigger than the monster he clearly was… was the grief on his face now that you’d seen it.

The truth.

He stayed there, trembling.

The kitchen behind him, a crime scene.

The hallway between you, a silence neither of you knew how to break.

And all you could do was stare at the man who once held your hands in devotion and now reeked of blood and bone.

And you didn’t know which part was worse.

The terror still thudding in your chest…

Or the awful, impossible part of you that still wanted to reach out.

That did.

Across the air thick with iron. Across the shadows and silence and whatever line had just been crossed.

You reached for him.

And that was all he needed.

Remmick’s head snapped up. Fast. Too fast. The way his body moved didn’t look right anymore, not all the way. It jerked sharp, like something with joints too old, too tight, had forced itself to kneel and could only barely stay still. But his face looked like salvation had just called his name.

Then he moved.

He lunged, but not violently. Not even hungrily. It was a rush forward like gravity, like collapse. Like he’d been waiting on your permission and the moment you gave it, every inch of restraint inside him snapped like wire. He surged into you, claws curling around the sides of your face with terrifying delicacy, his mouth crushing against yours before you could say a word.

The kiss wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t sweet.

It was devastation.

His lips were warm, too warm, like fever or blood or something ancient that burned just beneath the skin. His fangs, still drawn, still wet, grazed your lip on the first pass, and you flinched, just barely, but he didn’t pull away. Just groaned low in his throat, like he couldn’t stop himself, like the sound crawled out of something deeper than want.

And he kissed you again.

Harder this time.

One clawed hand slid around the back of your neck, the other wrapping tight around your ribs. Not bruising, not forceful. Possessive. Anchoring. Like if he didn’t touch you fully, completely, right now, you might disappear.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt.

The fabric was damp. Not from sweat.

You didn’t let go.

Remmick was trembling. Every part of him. Shaking like he was afraid of what he was doing, but more afraid of what would happen if he stopped. His lips moved against yours with a desperation that bordered on painful. Every press a plea, every breath a confession.

“I thought you’d run,” he gasped against your mouth. “Thought this’d be the end of it. Thought- Christ, I thought-”

He kissed you again before he could finish.

You tasted metal.

Salt.

Smoke.

And still, you didn’t stop him.

Your palms slid up his chest. Over fabric, over blood. You could feel the sharpness beneath his skin. Not just his ribs. Not just his claws. Something deeper. Something wrong.

But it wasn’t fear in your chest now.

It was awe.

Awe and grief and the kind of aching, terrifying tenderness that made you want to break something just to keep it from building any higher.

Remmick let out a sound then. Low, guttural, too close to a sob and too far from anything human. His hands flexed at your sides, claws dragging over the soaked fabric of your shirt. And suddenly he was kissing you again, this time with a desperation that bordered on frenzied.

The kind of kiss that felt like it was trying to crawl inside your chest.

Like he’d die if he didn’t.

His hands dragged up and down your spine, not gentle now, not even careful. Gripping. Tearing. The soaked fabric of your blouse began to strain beneath his fingers, the seams screaming as he pulled you closer, pressed you tighter. And then one claw caught the hem and pulled. Just once. The sound of fabric tearing cut the air like a gunshot.

You didn’t stop him.

You couldn’t.

You felt his breath at your throat, hot and trembling, then the wet drag of his mouth down your collarbone. He kissed the skin there like it hurt him to do it, like reverence and hunger had twisted together in his chest and neither one was willing to let go.

Your shirt was ruined. Torn down the front now, blood-soaked and slipping off one shoulder. Remmick didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and couldn’t bring himself to care. He pushed it lower, baring skin with slow, cautious hands like he thought your body might scald him for moving too fast.

“I can still feel it,” he murmured, mouth ghosting over your breasts. “Where you touched me. Where you reached for me. I didn’t think you would- I didn’t think-”

He broke off again, panting against your skin.

“Mine now,” he whispered.

It wasn’t a threat.

It wasn’t even a question.

It was just a fact.

He held your sides like he was steadying something too delicate to last. His mouth found yours again, sloppier this time, all tongue and teeth, the sharp edge of one fang scraping your lip until it stung. You gasped, and he moaned like it had torn through him too.

Your hands rose to his face on instinct, thumbs brushing beneath his eyes.

They were still glowing.

Still that deep, unholy red, like a heart pushed too long past what it was meant to bear.

“Look at you,” you breathed.

And he did.

He stilled.

His hands went still, his mouth, his breath. All of it.

Because you hadn’t said it like you were afraid.

You’d said it like you were amazed.

Like he was still beautiful, even now.

Even like this.

His throat bobbed once. His claws twitched where they rested on your ribs. He leaned in again, slower this time, like a man who didn’t want to wake himself from a dream.

You let him kiss you.

Let him press your blood-streaked skin to his lips like it was something divine.

He wasn’t even speaking to you anymore. Just unraveling. Just speaking.

The torn pieces of your blouse fell limp as he ran his claws up the sides of your ribs. Through the blood there, his and yours now, indistinguishable. And you realized he was trembling again.

You reached down. Touched the line of his jaw.

It was soaked.

His mouth, his chin, his neck, everything below it painted red. He looked up at you, eyes wide and glassy and barely holding.

You whispered his name.

He shuddered.

“I’d kill for you,” he said. “Again. I would. I wouldn’t even blink.”

You believed him.

But the frightening part?

It wasn’t the violence.

It was the love behind it.

The kind of love that could raze cities.

His hands slid down your body, , like he was mapping every curve, every dip and swell. His fingers brushed the waist of your pants, damp and tacky with blood, and he made a sound low in his throat. Something pained, something hungry. His eyes flashed up to yours, too bright, too raw, before dropping again to where his hands hovered over your thighs.

“I want- I need-” he started, but his voice cracked, drawl thickening as he tried again. “Darlin’, I gotta taste you. Please. I'll beg if you want me to, I don’t mind, I just- I need it. Need you.”

He was already ducking, already pressing his face against your stomach, mouthing at the skin just above your pants. You could feel the sharp edges of his fangs through the fabric, a promise and a warning. His hands flexed on your thighs, claws digging in just enough to pinch.

“Remmick,” you breathed, and he shuddered hard, like the sound of his name on your lips was enough to break him.

“Say it again,” he whispered, not moving his mouth from your skin. “Say my name. Lemme hear it.”

You did.

“Again,” he rasped, breath hot and damp against your navel. “Please, darlin’. I’ll do anything you want, just- just lemme hear it.”

You said his name again, louder this time, and he made a sound like a whimper, like a snivel. His hands fisted at your pants, claws catching, and then he was pushing them down, shoving them out of the way like they had personally offended him. The fabric bunched around your hips, your thighs, and he groaned when he saw the skin beneath.

“Christ,” he said, low and scraped. “Look at you. Just look at you.”

His fingers skimmed up your thighs, impossibly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence still drying on his hands. He was trembling harder now, muscles coiled tight like he was holding himself back by a thread.

“Spread your legs f’me,” he whispered, eyes flashing up to yours. “Please, darlin’. I- I gotta...”

He didn't finish. Just looked at you, pleading, desperate, like he'd die if you said no.

You didn't.

You shifted, just a little, and he made a sound like a sob. His hands were on you before you'd settled, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your inner thighs, prying them apart. He didn't seem to notice when his claws broke the skin, just dipped his head and dragged his tongue over the marks, catching the blood before it could well up.

“Fuck, you taste- you’re so-” He cut himself off, like he couldn't find the words, like there weren't any big enough for this. He just pressed his face closer, mouth open, fangs dragging against your skin, and breathed you in. “I could eat you alive,” he muttered, and there was something in his voice, something dark and edged with hysteria. “I wanna devour you. Consume you. Keep you.”

His tongue flicked out, hot and rough, and you gasped, hips jerking. He moaned at the movement, at the sound, and did it again, lapping at your skin like he couldn't get enough.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, words slurring against your thigh. “Gonna take such good care of you, I swear. Just lemme- just lemme taste you, darlin’. Lemme have you.”

He didn't wait for an answer. Just sealed his mouth over your cunt and sucked, tongue pushing inside, fangs scraping at the sensitive skin. You cried out, hips bucking, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through you.

You felt his claws then, pricking at your thighs, not enough to cut, just enough to remind you they were there. He was growling low in his throat, sucking wetly, messily, tongue thrusting inside you like he wanted to be as deep as possible.

“You’re so sweet,” he gasped, pulling back for a moment, lips still stained red. “Fuckin’ hell, baby, you’re so-” He dove back in, tongue pressing flat against your clit, rubbing in quick, hard circles. “Gonna make you come,” he growled, words nearly unintelligible. “Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, I swear.”

He closed his lips around your clit and sucked, tongue fluttering, and you nearly screamed, hips jerking wildly. He moaned in response, doubling his efforts, one hand coming up to press flat against your stomach, holding you in place.

“Gonna take care of you,” he muttered, pulling off again, chin shining. “My good girl. My sweet girl. Gonna-” He broke off, breath shuddering, and then he was fucking you with his tongue again, hard and fast, like he couldn't stop himself.

Your hands found his hair, tugging weakly, and he hummed, the sound pleased. You weren't sure if he was even aware of it, lost as he was in the taste of you, the feel. He sucked and licked like a man possessed, clawed hands holding you open, mouth working feverishly.

But then, with a sudden movement, he pulled away, making you whine at the loss. But he didn't make you wait long. In one smooth motion, he lifted you up, hands gripping your thighs, and lay back on the ground, dragging you with him. He positioned you over his face, looking up at you with wild eyes, a feral grin on his face, fangs glinting.

“Ride my face, darlin’,” he growled, and before you could even react, he was pulling you down onto his mouth, tongue delving deep inside you, fucking you with it. You cried out, hands slapping against the wall behind you for balance as you ground down onto his face.

He moaned against you, the vibration only adding to the sensation, his tongue lapping at you frantically, like he couldn't get enough, like he wanted to drown in you. One hand held you in place, claws dimpling the flesh of your ass, while the other reached up to rub at your clit in rough circles.

You came with a wordless cry, thighs clamping tight around his head as you shuddered and shook. He moaned into you, lapping up every drop, tongue working you through your orgasm until you were left a trembling mess on top of him.

But he didn't stop there, didn't let up for even a moment. He just kept going, kept eating you out with a ferocity that left you breathless, sparking the ember of your pleasure back into an inferno in moments. It was too much, too intense, but he didn't care, didn't let up, just kept pushing you harder, further.

“Remmick,” you whined, voice broken and raw, “Remmick, fuck, I can’t-”

He growled at that, the sound sending a shiver up your spine. His hands tightened on you, claws pricking at your skin, and he doubled down, tongue lashing at you, teeth scraping against your sensitive flesh. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, his mouth hot and wet and filthy against you, his stubble rasping against your thighs.

When you came again, it hit you like a freight train, a sob tearing from your throat as you bucked and writhed on top of him. He moaned into you, tongue delving deep, like he was trying to taste the very feeling of your pleasure, to swallow it down and make it a part of him.

As you came down from your high, Remmick finally pulled back, letting you collapse on top of him, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. You were both panting heavily, sweat and blood mixing on your skin. He reached out, running a hand down your body, gentler now, like he was trying to soothe you, to bring you back down.

“You did so well, darlin’,” he murmured, voice rough and face soaked with satisfaction. “So fuckin’ beautiful, the way you came apart f’me. Could watch you like that all day.”

He leaned in, nuzzling at your neck, breath hot against your ear. “But we ain’t done yet,” he whispered, and you shivered, pulse quickening. “I need to feel you, need to be inside you. Need to make you mine.”

He stood up, pulling you with him, and you swayed on unsteady legs, held up only by his grip on you. He pulled you over to the window, the city sprawled out below you, lights twinkling in the darkness.

“Gonna fuck you right here,” he growled, spinning you around so you were facing him, his chest pressed against yours. “Gonna let the whole world see how fuckin’ perfect you are. Let 'em see who you belong to.”

He wasted no time in stripping off his clothes, movements sharp and urgent, like he couldn't wait any longer. His chest was heaving, eyes dark with lust as he looked at you, drinking in the sight of you pressed up against the window.

“Look at you,” he breathed, adoration lacing every word. “Fuckin’ look at you. Never seen anythin’ so goddamn beautiful in my life.”

He stepped up to you, pressing close, his hardness hot against your stomach. He reached down, one hand splayed on your lower back, the other dipping down between your legs, fingers sliding through your wetness.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, breath hot against your lips. “Gonna fuck you till you can’t see straight, till you can’t remember a time when I wasn’t inside you.”

He lined himself up, the head of him nudging against your entrance, and you whimpered, needing him, needing more. He didn't make you wait, thrusting into you in one hard, sharp movement, filling you up, stretching you wide.

You cried out, head falling back against the window, and he groaned, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair, holding you in place. He started to move, fucking you hard and fast, skin slapping against skin, the window rattling with every thrust.

“Fuck... yes,” he grunted, voice strained. “Take it, sweetheart. You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, all spread out and needy f’me.”

You could feel heavy tears begin to fall at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed and overstimulated, but he just licked them away, tongue rough and fangs grazing against your cheek. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice softening for a moment. “You’re doin’ so well. So beautiful.”

You couldn't help but notice how he looked at you when you cried. Like each tear was a gift, something precious he wasn’t sure he deserved. His gaze didn’t flicker with guilt or concern, but reverence. Worshipful. Like the sight of you undone was holy to him, something sacred carved just for his eyes. He cradled your face like it might dissolve if he held it too hard, but still pressed his lips to the wet trails with aching devotion, humming low against your skin like your pain, your pleasure, your everything was his favorite song.

His thrusts started to speed up, losing their rhythm as he chased his own pleasure. He was muttering into your skin, words filthy and fanatical, telling you how good you felt, how much he loved you, how he never wanted to stop.

When he came, it was with a guttural moan, hips snapping forward as he spilled himself inside you, marking you as his. You could feel him pulsing, feel the hot splash of his come filling you up, and it sent you over the edge again, your own orgasm tearing through you like wildfire.

He held you through it, arms tight around you, face buried in your neck as you both shuddered and shook. It felt like forever, like time had stopped and all that existed was the two of you, tangled up in each other, lost in the haze of pleasure.

Slowly, so slowly, the world started to come back into focus, the sounds of the city drifting up from below, the cool glass of the window against your flushed skin. Remmick was still inside you, still hard, like he didn’t want to lose the connection between you. Not even for a breath. His arms stayed locked around your waist, holding you close, like he thought you might vanish if he let go.

His breath hitched against your ear. That voice, still wrecked, still raw from everything he had felt, everything he had done, cut through the quiet like a prayer whispered straight from the heart.

“I love you,” he cooed. “Love you so much.”

You didn’t answer right away.

Didn’t need to.

Your hand reached for his cheek, thumb brushing the blood that had dried just beneath his eye. He leaned into the touch instinctively. Like always. Like you were the only thing that ever grounded him. His forehead pressed to yours, breath slow and shaking, and for the first time since stepping into that kitchen, his body softened. Not out of weakness.

Out of peace.

“The city’s ours now,” he whispered. “You hear me?”

You felt it. Not in his words, but in the way he held you tighter, just slightly, like he was sealing something.

“All of it,” he breathed. “Every light. Every sidewalk. Every camera flash that wants to eat you whole. They don’t own a single part of you now.”

His voice dropped, low and sure, as certain as gravity.

“It’s just you and me. Me and you. Forever.”

You tilted your head. Looked over his shoulder. Just for a moment.

The body was still there.

Still curled where it fell.

Face slack. Mouth open.

The pool beneath him had started to dry at the edges. Thick and rust-colored now. Silent.

Your stomach didn’t twist. Your heart didn’t leap.

Instead, you looked back at Remmick.

His face.

His mouth.

Those red-touched eyes that didn’t glow so much as burn. Softly now. Slowly.

You leaned in.

Let your mouth meet his again. Gentle this time. Just breath. Just skin. Just the shape of a future neither of you had words for.

His hands curved around your face.

And when he pulled back, his smile was quiet.

Secure.

His thumb ran along your cheek.

“My fuckin’ star,” he said.

And this time, you believed it.

Down to your bones.

[lxkeee]

HEAVEN AND BACK !

—Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Romance

Warnings: Love at first sight, fast paced romance and mentions of domestic ab*se.

Notes: to the anon who requested the platonic Alastor x Mom! Reader it would be part of this:)

Synopsis: In which Alastor's mother went down to hell to oversee the hotel's progress and met the king of hell.

Word count: 4.6k words

PART TWO | NAVIGATION

[Y/n] lived a good and honest life, a simple housewife with one son. After finally separating with her abusive husband, her life with her son, Alastor had become better. Alastor promised that he'll support her through his radio hosting, the boy has become quite popular amongst the folks—with his wits and charm, he was able to make a reputation for himself and earn money better for him and her.

[Y/n] was finally happy, proud of what she and her son have accomplished. She doesn't have to worry about her ex-husband coming home to hurt her or her son.

After the divorce, not a few weeks later, her husband was found dead with several of his body parts missing. She and her son were questioned about it but nothing could connect them to the crime and was proven innocent.

Alastor comforted her about it, promising to protect her if the killer ever hurt her. Which calmed her down as the whole situation did affect her, despite her harboring hatred towards her ex-husband, she felt bad he got murdered in a brutal way possible.

Peace and happiness didn't last long for her unfortunately, some fight happened in the city when she was out for an errand and she got in the middle of the crossfire, getting herself shot twice—on her shoulder and one in her stomach. She bled to death.

[Y/n] briefly remembers a tall black haired man walking towards her, black wings on his back while carrying a large golden scythe on his hand.

“[y/n] [l/n], age is 44 years old, destination is heaven.” the man says with an amused tone in his voice. A smile found its way to her lips, this must be death then? I am sorry Alastor, I can no longer watch over you. She thought sadly, and then suddenly darkness.

[Y/n] woke up with a gasp, her eyes staring at the bright blue skies. Blinking, disoriented about what just happened. She looked at her side to see clouds, clouds everywhere. Even the ground she's lying on is clouds.

“Where... Am I...?” she mutters as she sits, finally turning around to see the gates that are shining ever so brightly, the radiant rays of the sun reflecting against the golden gate.

“Am I... In heaven...?” she asked herself softly, eyes widening as she remembers what happened. The fight in the city, getting shot—twice, bleeding to death.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, as the reality that she died finally settled in. “No, no, no, no, no!” she said to herself, her hands covering her mouth to stop herself from crying. Her smile now lowering, already tired of keeping it up. She was the one who taught her son to always smile in any situation, but this...? She can't keep it up any longer. So she cried, hysterically. Her cries echoing throughout the skies.

She's dead, that means she won't see her son ever again. Her son will be alone, she can't be there for him!

It took a while for her to finally calm down, with a shaky breath she got off the cloudy grounds and approached the gate. An angel sitting behind the counter at the side of the gate is what she saw.

“Welcome to heaven, can I get your name please?” the man says with a smile, [y/n] stood there nervously, “[y/n] [l/n].” she says softly and watched as the male flipped through his thick book, “[y/n] Alberich, [y/n] Gunnhildr, [y/n] Lawrence [y/n] Kreideprinz, [y/n] Ragnvindr...” the angel mutters as he flips through his book, [y/n] stood awkwardly as she watches him.

The angel's finger finally stopped at a name and his smile became brighter, “Aha! There it is, [y/n] [l/n]... Please, come inside. I Saint Peter, officially welcome you to heaven.” the angel also known as Saint Peter says with a smile, the gates of heaven opening up for her.

[Y/n] nodded and hesitantly walked to the gate, passing by it and finally got inside the heavenly city.

Her new life after death. She hopes her son will join her here when his time comes, for now, she'll enjoy her new life.

It has been a few years, decades even. Still no sign of Alastor, she wonders if Alastor was gifted with a long life, something she didn't have? After getting inside heaven, they are not allowed to check up on their remaining loved ones on earth as they are not allowed to and [y/n] respected that, she'll wait for her son to join her here. She does miss her son, she wonders how he's doing, especially after her death. She can't imagine the pain he felt after her passing. She wonders if he's in purgatory if that place ever exists, she prays that her beloved son isn't in hell. Not her Alastor.

During her time here, she somehow became a well respected angel, becoming a seraphim angel and helping around heaven, overseeing important matters around the heavenly realm. [Y/n] befriended another seraphim angel named Emily, the girl is wonderful to be around with! Very positive and such a kind girl. [Y/n] enjoys having her around.

Recently, a secret has just been revealed during a court meeting with hell's princess, the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar, [y/n] read about him and she believes that the angel didn't do anything wrong, just misunderstood but this belief is something she keeps to herself, in fear of the others throwing her out for that small reason.

All throughout the trial Charlotte Morningstar expressed valid arguments, showing that souls can really improve their ways.

It was revealed that the exorcists were going down to hell to cleanse them, a sugar coated word for killing. The fact that Sera agreed to it was ridiculous but [y/n] can't do anything about it, she is just a mortal soul after all. She can't argue with the high seraphim and risk herself getting thrown out of heaven.

[Y/n] can only pray that Charlie's plan will work.

After that meeting, [y/n] can sensed that high ranking angels trust on Sera significantly lowered.

[Y/n] and Emily spent most of their free time researching, finding ways to help Charlie achieve her dreams for her people.

It has been a day since the cleansing started, [y/n] was in the seraphim office together with Sera and Emily doing important paperwork when suddenly a bright light fills the room and out emerged a familiar snake they [y/n] saw during the court meeting when Charlie was showing Angel Dust, she could briefly remember this snake man to be one of Angel Dust's and Charlie's friend. The one who announced he'll have sex with everyone at the club, she definitely didn't forget about that. The only difference is that the man's color themes changed.

“Huh? Wha...? Where am I?” he says as he looks around the unfamiliar place.

[Y/n] covers her mouth in disbelief while Emily squeaked beside her, turning around to look at the other two seraphim, Sera was in disbelief, [y/n] can't tell what the older woman is feeling right now.

Turning back to look at the new guest, [y/n] gave the man a small wave and the man gave her an awkward smile while waving back, “Oh... Hello!” he says and [y/n] giggles and Emily squeaks beside her.

“Hi! Welcome to heaven!” Emily cheers, the man's eyes widened. “I'm in heaven...?” he says in disbelief and [y/n] nodded, “Yes, this is heaven and you're currently in the office of the Seraphims. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Pentious or dare I say... Sir Redemptious?” [y/n] says with a small and gentle chuckle, chuckling at her own joke. Emily giggled at the joke while Sera remained flabbergasted.

Sir Pentious blinks in confusion, “You know me?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Emily nodded, a bright smile on her face, “Yes! But it is a long story.” she says with a large smile.

“But first, let us introduce ourselves.” [y/n] says with a small smile, a smile that seems awfully familiar to Sir Pentious but less... Threatening.

[Y/n] clears her throat, “It is an honor to meet you, Sir Pentious. I am [y/n] [l/n] one of the seraphims.” she introduces and Emily follows after, “Hi! I am Emily but you can call me Em, Emmy, Ly... It is a pleasure to meet you!” Emily says excitedly, approaching Sir Pentious' side and admiring him, circling him and taking in his new appearance.

“And this,” [y/n] says, extending her arms towards Sera, “This is Sera, the head Seraphim.” [y/n] says which snapped Sera out of her thoughts. Sera cleared her throat, finally back to her authoritative self.

“Greetings, Sir Pentious. I am Sera, the head Seraphim. I would like to formally welcome you to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” Sera says and Emily nodded excitedly while [y/n] just gave a small nod with a gentle smile on her face.

“I'm not dreaming...?” Sir Pentious says in disbelief and [y/n] shook her head, “I can assure you that you are not dreaming right now.”

Emily tilts her head in confusion, finally realizing something. “How come he arrived immediately here and not at the gates...?” she asked and [y/n] hummed, she too was baffled by this, placing a hand on her chin as she began to think.

“Perhaps... He's another Seraphim?” [y/n] asked, snapping her fingers and she smirked as she noticed Sera's eye twitches. Interesting... [Y/n] thought, a subtle smirk on her face, finding the situation interesting.

“How about I show you around? I'll let the grownups handle your stay here.” Emily says, Sir Pentious looked at the girl, “I hope that my egg bois are here.” he says with glassy eyes and Emily let's out a small 'aweee' and patting the back of the man, “I am sure they are here.” Emily says as she pulls the man out of the office.

[Y/n] turned to look at Sera, a mischievous grin on her face. Sera sighs, a frown on her face. “Don't say it.” Sera muttered and [y/n] chuckles, “What...? I am not saying anything yet.” she says with a mischievous tone. Sera rolls her eyes at the woman.

“I was in the wrong, the hotel does work.” Sera says, disbelief that it does. “[y/n]. I want you to go down there and make sure that the hotel runs smoothly.” Sera says and [y/n]  blinked, confused on what the woman was planning, “Why me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her smile not leaving her face.

“Just do it.” Sera deadpans and [y/n] shrugs, still has a small smile on her face, “Alright, whatever the boss says.” she shrugs.

“Make sure it runs smoothly but don't tell them he's here, I fear it will influence the sinners. I want them to work hard for it, and work hard for something that they are unsure of.” Sera says, walking out of her table, walking across the room and stood in front of the window, gazing outside the office of the Seraphims.

[Y/n] looked at the woman's back, Sera's wings neatly folded behind her. [Y/n] nodded in agreement, understanding where she's coming from.

“Understood, when shall I start?” [y/n] asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“Next week, let them rebuild the hotel. Do you understand your mission, [y/n]?” Sera says, turning around to look at her, [y/n] kneels down gracefully, a hand over her heart.

“Affirmative.” [y/n] says softly and Sera nodded, “Good.”

[Y/n]'s head peaked through the small gap of Sir Pentious' door as she opens it, her eyes soften as she sees Emily and Sir Pentious talking and multiple egg boys asleep on the bed. Knocking to catch their attention, the two looked at the very tall angel woman standing by the door, a gentle smile on her face.

“Hello, Sir Pent. I hope you're comfortable with your new room. I see that Emi is warming up to you which isn't surprising.” [y/n] giggles and Emily smiles and nodded excitedly.

“Speaking of [y/n], she's like a mom to everyone! She's so nice, I hope you two will get along!” Emily says happily, [y/n] presumes that Emily was talking about other angels before she came inside the room. [Y/n] smiles and gives the two a gentle nod, “That is me, if you have any problem... Feel free to approach me okay?” [y/n] says with a closed eyed smile, Sir Pentious eyes sparkled and a small blush on his cheeks as he could literally feel the gentle warmth of the woman.

[Y/n] just smiles and tilts her head before looking at Emily, “Anyways, I just came to check up on you two on how you two are doing. I'll be leaving now, you two have fun okay?” [y/n] says softly and Emily nodded, “Okay! I'll see you later Miss [y/n]!” Emily says and then Sir Pentious nodded and gave a wave to the woman. The two watched the older and taller woman leave the room.

[Y/n] walks away from Sir Pentious' room, walking past multiple doors that decorated the hallway—these are rooms that souls occupy and sooner, Sir Pentious' room will be upgraded since the man is a seraphim after all.. Entering the elevator, [y/n] presses a button—a button to her floor. The door closes.

[Y/n] sighs as she feels the elevator moving upwards, her mind buzzing with multiple thoughts. Taking mental notes on what to bring for her time in hell, she'll have to oversee the hotel after all.

The door opens, [y/n] steps out of the elevator, walking past by multiple doors (but the doors are much lesser than the floor Sir Pentious was in), these hallways are the rooms of the Seraphims.

Her feet stopped, coming to a halt. Holding the doorknob, the symbol of the doorknob glows, signifying that the owner of the room returned and in turn, and unlocked the door.

Stepping inside, she closes the door behind her. Time to pack.

Timeskip a few days later.

[Y/n] stood at the opposite side of Sera's table, her hands holding her luggage, Sera the high Seraphim sat on her seat looking at the taller woman. Emily standing beside Sera, the smaller girl looked at [y/n] with a slight worried look but still had a smile on her face. [Y/n] is proud that Emily continuously applied her teachings, you're never fully dressed without a smile, as what she always tells the girl.

“Goodluck, Miss [y/n]!” Emily says with a grin on her face, [y/n] chuckles at the girl's enthusiasm and nodded nonetheless.

“Do not disappoint us.” Sera says, [y/n]'s eyes narrowed slightly but her smile never faltered. [Y/n] nodded, a charming tone in her voice, “No promises.” she says with a grin and Sera rolls her eyes and then snaps her fingers, opening a portal for the taller angel.

[Y/n] waved goodbye at the two and stepped into the portal.

The bright blue scenario was replaced with a dark red one, a door was in front of her, a glass tinted door depicting apples and snakes.

Placing down her luggage, she curls up her fingers and then knocks on the door.

Loud knocks were heard against the tinted glass doors of the hotel, the sounds momentarily cutting off the conversation the hotel dwellers were having.

Angel Dust raises his eyebrows as he looks at the door, Husk stopping midway of drying up a freshly cleaned glass. Niffty just resumes cleaning the lobby of the hotel, Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch with Charlie's head on Vaggie's lap, Cherri is passed out drunk on the counter of the mini bar, and Alastor was just grinning as he sat on the cushioned chair.

Getting off Vaggie's lap, Charlie Morningstar walked towards the door, getting a very strong sense of deja vu. Opening it and seeing a very tall smiling angel looking down on her, a familiar angel that she saw when she had the court meeting in heaven, she remembers that this woman stood at the opposite side of Emily. Charlie never got to actually meet her or know her.

“Good eveni—” the angel started but was cut off as Charlie closed the door.

Turning around to look at her friends, a look of disbelief on her face. There's an angel in her front door, there is a SERAPHIM ANGEL IN HER FRONT DOOR.

“Vaggie?” Charlie calls out to her girlfriend nervously, Vaggie gave her a raised eyebrow, “What?” she asked.

“There's a seraphim angel at the door.” Charlie says, pointing towards the door. This promptly made everyone freeze.

“Oh my fucking god... I swear, what do they want this time..?” Angel sighs loudly, Vaggie standing up and getting her angelic weapon.

Charlie took a deep breath and opened the door once more, the same tall angel looking down on her with a gentle smile on her face, “May I speak now?” she asked and Charlie nodded nervously with a smile, the angel laughed, though she is experiencing major deja vu at the moment, “Relax, I am not here to cause trouble. Keep smiling darling, you're never fully dressed without one~!” she says with a giggle and Charlie nervously puts a smile on her face.

“Hi... My name is Charlie and you are...?” Charlie introduces herself shyly, a little flustered. The woman was very gorgeous and... Tall...

The angel shakes the girl's hand enthusiastically, “I know, my name is [y/n], it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Morningstar.” [y/n] says with a giggle but quickly stopping as an angelic spear was pointed at her, Vaggie muttering something in Spanish underneath her breath.

“What is a seraphim angel doing here? Last time I checked, you guys hated us.” Vaggie sneers and [y/n] just smiled, using her pointer finger to push away the spear gently away from her, “Hate you...? No, no, no dearie... It's just Sera, she's... How to say it... An old time bitch.” [y/n] deadpans with a chuckle.

Charlie and Vaggie blinked at her words, in disbelief at how a seraphim can easily say something like that quite easily.

[Y/n] flicked her hand dismissively, “Ugh, I don't like her that much.” she sighs and chuckles, her eyes returning back to look at the two shorter girls.

“Let us forget about her for a moment, the reason I am here is that Sera wanted me to oversee the hotel and keep track if it makes any progress.” [y/n] explained, her pointer finger pointed up as she nodded to herself.

Vaggie narrows her eyes at her but decides not to question it but still held some suspicion of the woman. Vaggie thought that the angel reminds her of someone, but who?

Charlie just looked at the woman, in disbelief that Heaven changed its mind. Though, she too held some slight suspicion but decided not to think too much of it, moving to the side to allow the woman to pass through the tinted glass doors of the hotel.

“Very well then, please come in.” Charlie says and [y/n] gave the girl a curt bow and invited herself in.

[Y/n] admired the interior of the hotel, her eyes sparkling in admiration as she appreciates the design of the building. The interior is filled with so many red, white, gold, and black hues—a contrast to what she was used to in heaven. Charlie closes the door behind them and starts leading the taller woman back to the lobby.

“My, this hotel is very beautiful.” [y/n] says genuinely as she follows the shorter girls as they lead her towards the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel.

Finally arriving at the lobby where the other hotel members were staying, [y/n] surveyed each one of them carefully. The man who resembled a red deer oddly reminded her of someone.

Alastor was quite interested in who the person Charlie was talking to by the door.

His eyes widened, his smile faltering slightly as he saw the woman he's long last seen and the most he has missed.

“Everyone, heaven decided to send someone to oversee the hotel's progress. This is [y/n], she is a seraphim. I hope you treat her with respect.” Charlie says with a small smile. The name makes Alastor's ears ring.

He couldn't stop himself as the words left his lips, “Mother...?” Alastor says with wide eyes and a smile still on his face.

Silence.

Angel Dust's and Husk's jaw dropped. Seeing a new facial reaction of the always smiling man.

[Y/n]'s eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands, she was right. Why was he here? Why was her beloved son here in hell?

“Alastor...? My sweetie is that you...?” [y/n] asked shakily, her hands trembling, in disbelief.

Alastor hesitantly nodded, nervous. He didn't expect to reunite with her. How can he explain this to her? How can he explain the reason why he ended in hell?

“No fucking way...” Angel Dust muttered, in disbelief.

Tears began to stream down [y/n]'s cheeks as she let go of her luggage and quickly hugged her son, he looked so different.

“My sweet son, it really is you... Why are you here?!” She asked, cupping Alastor's face comfortingly. Alastor avoided her gaze.

“Mother... It has been awhile, I have done things that lead me down here.” Alastor explained calmly, a smile still on his face but he is fighting back tears. He missed her so much, after her death he was miserable. He found out the reason she died and killed the two men who caused her death.

[Y/n]'s eyes soften and she placed a gentle kiss on her son's forehead, Alastor instinctively closing his eyes at the contact. Warmth, he forgot what comforting warmth felt like.

“Now, now... I'm sure it couldn't be that bad...?” [y/n] says with a small chuckle and failing to notice the other hotel members giving each other a side eye.

Well... It was fun being an overlord. Alastor thought to himself as he took a deep breath and began to explain it to his mother, the reason why he's in hell.

“ALASTOR [L/N] WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME DO YOU MEAN YOU KILLED PEOPLE?!” [Y/n] seethes as she chases after her son, holding her shoe in her hand. Alastor trying to save his own life from his seething mother.

“Mother I can explain—!”

The others just watched as the angelic woman chased the most terrifying demon they know around the hotel.

“This is so fucking funny.” Cherri mutters beside Angel Dust, Husk having a smirk on his face as he watches his boss getting chased around by his mother.

“Well... I hope they'll stop soon or dad will come down to see what the ruckus is about.” Charlie says, nervous that they are causing too much ruckus. She knows her dad needs the quiet time to make his rubber duckies.

Lucifer was in his room writing something on his desk, he just finished making a rubber duckie sometime ago and now he's currently writing plans for the hotel.

Well... Trying to.

His eye twitched as he heard the loud ruckus happening downstairs. With a sigh, he lets go of his fountain pen. Standing up from his seat, curious on what is happening downstairs, he left his room and went downstairs.

What the king of hell didn't expect to see was the annoying radio demon getting scolded by... An angel? And good lord, she's... Tall. Though, he couldn't see her face as her back was facing him.

“I thought I raised you better than this? Good heavens, I thought you were better than this?” the woman sobs and leans against the radio demon, sobbing into his shoulder while Alastor hesitantly comforts her. Lucifer was trying not to laugh as the radio demon gave him the middle finger.

“Who's this?” Lucifer asked and his daughter nervously approached him, “Well, this is [y/n] and heaven thought it would be a good idea to send someone to oversee our progress of the hotel.” Charlie explains and Lucifer's eyebrows are raised in confusion, confused on what changed their mind.

“I am truly sorry mother, it won't happen again,” Alastor says softly, still smiling while his mother lets go of him and flicks the radio demon's forehead making the taller man yelp in pain.

Charlie smiled and clapped her hands together, “Miss [y/n], this is my father and you might as well know him as Lucifer Morningstar.” Charlie says and the woman turns around to look at them.

And oh my devil, none of these thoughts are in the bible.

Lucifer thought as he finally took a good look at the very tall angel. She's gorgeous. Very gorgeous. The white dress she was wearing perfectly captured her figure, complimenting her skin. Her halo glowing above her head like the rays of the sun shining down on her. Absolutely divine. Lucifer blinks, trying to comprehend the beauty of the woman in front of him.

Angel Dust looking at him with a smirk, without him realizing.

[Y/n]'s eyes sparkled, quickly shoving Alastor away as she approached the shorter man, “Oh my stars, really? It's an honor to meet you, I've read about you and quite frankly I don't believe you got the justice you deserved.” [y/n] explains, she has to kneel down as her neck was starting to hurt at looking down.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised that an angel held him in such high regard.

“Wait... Huh??” Lucifer says in disbelief making the woman chuckle, and goodness, even her laugh sounds so beautiful.

“I am grateful that you gave us free will, if it weren't for you... Humans couldn't control their own fate, their own actions and for that, thank you.” she says sincerely and unexpectedly, a single tear streamed down Lucifer's cheek. Nobody really cared to say their thanks to him, he just assumed that humanity hated him for his actions, as heaven hated him for it. To see and hear someone say their thanks to him for the first time, may have healed some wounds he was desperately trying to heal with a bandaid.

The angel panicked when she saw the tear, “Oh my stars! Did I offend you?! Oh gosh, I didn't mean to.”

Lucifer began to chuckle and laugh. Amused at the woman's personality.

Charlie wonders if her dad finally went insane.

“Since when did angels be so nice to me?” Lucifer asked in-between chuckles, finally calming down as he offered his hand for a handshake.

“My name's Lucifer, darling. It's a pleasure to meet you...?” Lucifer says with a toothy grin but his charm and confidence were replaced by shyness and embarrassment as the angel opted to kiss his knuckles instead.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lucifer. I am [y/n], a seraphim angel.” she says with a smile, almost smirking, her tone almost sensual.

Lucifer was flabbergasted, flustered. Blinking animatedly, his mind is still trying to comprehend what just happened. So many things are happening at once, the warmth of his cheeks, the loud thumping of his heart against his own ribcage, he prays that she couldn't hear it.

Angel Dust nudges Charlie, giving the girl a knowing smirk. Charlie just gave him a confused look, unsure what he meant, saying something to angel along the lines of, my dad's reaction is valid, have you seen her?

The apple doesn't really fall far from the tree, Angel Dust thought as he cackles in amusement.

Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly at the interaction. Vaggie cautious at the radio demon's reaction.

Well, this is interesting. Husk thought to himself, already prepared of the chaos that's going to happen now with an additional member of the hotel.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34

[starsinthesky5]

sweetest surprise || joe burrow x reader

description: a confusing and uncomfortable few days results in the sweetest surprise :)

a/n: an unplanned fic before I get back into YAIL and YBWM! this one was on the ML for a while so I decided to get into it on my very lengthy drive home from texas so this is definitely not my best writing since I was half asleep when writing half of this but i hope you guys like it regardless :) 

the fic jumps around a bit to certain moments so hopefully it’s easy to follow!

warnings: language, mentions of sex

word count: 14 k

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November 21st

You felt a set of soft and delicate lips pepper featherlight kisses around your face, the lips felt extremely cozy and warm like you were being touched by a cloud-like plush blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and were met with your husband towering over you, a cheeky grin on his face as daylight filled your once-dark bedroom. 

“Someone slept in,” he laughed.

You turned your head to the side to see the time, the clock reading 9:32 am, 2 and a half hours past the time you were supposed to get up. You slept through the early alarm you had set to get up and make Joe his usual game-day breakfast and prepare for the game as you were busy the night before with your friends. Not to mention you and Joe were hosting a family dinner party after the game and the house was an absolute mess. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know how I slept in,” you say as you sit up quickly, but maybe a little too quickly as you feel dizzy all of a sudden. You reached for your head to stabilize yourself, the room slightly spinning as you tried to gather yourself. 

“Hey, you okay?” Joe asked as he grabbed your hands and sat down in front of you. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Just felt a little dizzy,”. 

“Does your head hurt?” he asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his voice laced with concern. “Do you need water?”. 

“Nope, I think I just sat up too fast,” you nodded. “I’m good on water though, thanks. Sorry about sleeping in, I don’t know how that happened. I was supposed to make your breakfast and you’re probably starving right now and you have to leave in a little bit,” you said as you looked down at your hands that he was rubbing with his soft fingers. 

“You don’t need to say sorry, you deserve to sleep in once and a while since you sacrifice your weekends for me & football,” he chuckles. 

“Yeah but now everything is thrown off since you don’t have anything to eat, there’s only a few hours till kickoff and I don’t even know what I’m wearing, and we have family coming over after the game and the house is a mess,” you say, your breaths getting shorter as visible panic sets in. 

“Woahh, let’s breathe for a second,” Joe says, now rubbing his hands on your thighs to help calm you down which always worked. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I grabbed us breakfast on the way home from the team hotel, you can wear one of my Bengals hoodies and leggings because you look beautiful in everything and don’t need anything flashy to show that you’re my biggest fan, and I asked the housekeeper to come over while we’re at the game to clean up for the dinner tonight because I knew it would be a lot for you to juggle by yourself,”.

You sat there and stared at Joe for a few seconds, still unable to fully comprehend how he always managed to fix your problems with what felt like just the snap of his fingers. He’d always been able to easily ease your worries no matter how big or small even when you were dating, and now that you were married that hadn't changed. Joe had been the perfect boyfriend to you for many years and now was the perfect husband, you were truly the luckiest woman alive because you had someone so thoughtful and sincere by your side. 

“Thank youuu,” you said as you moved closer to him and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I don’t what I would do without you,”.

“It’s a good thing you don’t need to know what you’d do without me. I’m always here,” he smiled against your head. 

“Mmm, you’re the best,” you say as you melt in his arms. “I don’t know why I feel lazy and weird this morning,”. 

“We all have those days. I’m sure you’ll be fine by tonight,” he says as he rubs your back before pressing a kiss to your lips. The warmth radiating from his body makes you feel ten times better already. 

“I hope so,” you yawn. “What’d you grab for breakfast?” you ask as you pull away from the hug.

“I got us some muffins, fruit, and smoothies from that bakery you love downtown by the stadium,” he says as he gets up from the bed, putting out his hand to help you up.

“Oooo yum,” you chirp as you get up. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to freshen up,”. 

“Yes ma’am,” he says as he presses another kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out of your bedroom, a nice bounce in his step. At least one of you was having a good morning.  

You walk into the bathroom, pee, and then make your way over to the vanity to brush your teeth. After you brush your teeth, you take a good look at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your face looks more tired than usual—matching how you felt—and then you notice your stomach sticking out a little through your semi-tight sleep shirt. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have had those two milkshakes yesterday,” you murmured as you rubbed your hands over your seemingly bloated belly. “Bloated is not a cute look,”.  

You make your way down the stairs a few minutes later, watching Joe as he takes out the food from the bags and sets everything up on the table. “I got you a pumpkin banana muffin, a mixed fruit bowl with berries, pineapple, and mangos, and that Pacific Sunrise smoothie you like,” he smiles as you walk closer to him.

“All my favorites,” you grin as you lean across the table to press a kiss to his lips. “Such a good husband,”. 

“Only the finest variety for the best wife in the world,” he said as he popped a piece of pineapple into his mouth. 

“I’ll never get tired of hearing those words come out of your mouth,” you smile. 

“And I’ll never get tired of saying those words,” he winks as he pulls your chair out for you. 

You both sit down at the table with your breakfast and start to dig in. You finish up your bowl of fruit first and then move to the smoothie as you and Joe talk about the game and the dinner later. 

“My mom and aunt said they’ll bring over some food for a potluck-type thing. I checked the fridge and we have everything for hamburgers and hotdogs so we could probably use the grill,” he said as he took a sip of his smoothie.

“It’s freezing tonight so maybe try to make them inside,” you say as you take a sip of your smoothie, your face immediately scrunching up in disgust. 

“Yeah, that’s probably a better idea…Are you okay?” he says as he looks up and notices your face. 

“This smoothie tastes awful,” you cough as you push it away. 

“I thought it was your favorite?” he asked as he picked up the cup to read the label.

“It is, but this tastes so bad for some reason,” you reply. “Here, you take a sip,”.

Joe nods before taking a sip of the fruity smoothie, the taste seeming normal to him as his face stays the same. “It tastes like how it usually does to me, Tropical and a little Citrusy,” he says as he places the cup back down. 

“It just tastes strange, I don’t know why,” you gag as the aftertaste is even worse than the initial taste.  

“Maybe try the muffin?” He asks as he passes it to you. “You need something more than just fruit inside of your belly since I know you usually don’t eat much during the game,”. 

You nod and take a small bite of the muffin but you immediately put it down as it tastes just as bad as the smoothie. “That tastes bad too,”.

“That’s weird, you eat this all the time and it’s never been weird before,” he says as he inspects the muffin. “I don’t see anything wrong with it either,”. 

“I’ve been getting this same order from that Bakery every week for the past 4 years and I’ve never been grossed out by it before,” you frown. “I don’t understand why it tastes like rotten eggs to me and not you,”. 

“We can put them in the fridge and see tomorrow if it tastes better. Maybe it’s just your tastebuds or something,” he says as he gets up to put them inside the fridge.

“We can try but I don’t know how my tastebuds are going to change in 24 hours,” you giggle.

“Well clearly they changed since the last time you had the smoothie and muffin so let’s try it again tomorrow,” he smiled. 

“Whatever you say, Doctor,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes. 

A few hours later - Paycor Stadium 

There were about 20 minutes till kickoff and you were settled in the Burrow Suite with the family and a few other close WAGs. You grabbed a coffee and a bag of pretzels to snack on throughout the game since you barely had anything for breakfast this morning. The coffee was to help you stay awake since you woke up tired and were still feeling it hours later and you didn’t want to be groggy during the family dinner tonight. You listened to Joe and opted for one of his crewnecks and a pair of leggings for today's game, a little more lax than what you’d usually wear on game days but you were comfortable so that’s all that mattered. 

“Sounds like a weird morning,” Jess said after you told her how your morning went. 

“Oh, for sure. We all know I never sleep past my alarms so I don’t know what that was about and the breakfast thing was weird too,” you say as you pop a pretzel into your mouth, your stomach feeling a little weird as you sit there and watch the pregame preparations with your friend. 

“Hopefully you’re not sick or something. Can’t have you missing the annual WAGs party next week now that it was finally my turn to plan it,” she says as she pats your leg. 

“I hope I’m not sick. I don’t want to miss the party since I know how long you’ve been planning it for and that’s too much to handle right now since we’re getting into a crucial spot in the season. If Joe got sick right now, I would never be able to forgive myself,” you say as you squirm in your seat, feeling more and more uneasy as the seconds go by. You barely took a sip or bite of your breakfast this morning, so you couldn’t understand why your stomach was acting up. 

“I’m sure you’re fine. We all have days like that,” she says.

You let out a laugh, “Joe said the same thing,”. 

“Sam says that to me every time I have a bad morning,” she giggled.

“They really are the same person just in a different font, aren’t they?” you ask as you stand up to get a good look at the field to see if you can spot Joe, but as soon as you do, your stomach feels like it does a backflip and you feel a wave of nausea come over. 

You reach for your stomach, wrapping your arm around your belly in an attempt to make yourself feel better. Jess notices and stands up next to you, “Y/N? You good?” she asks as she places her hand on your shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” you say as you swallow. “I feel nauseous all of a sudden,”. 

“Here, take this water,” she says as she reaches for her water bottle. Before you could grab it, you felt a burning sensation in your throat and a cramp in your stomach, a sure sign that you were about to throw up. You put your hand over your mouth and run out of the suite and down the hall to the bathrooms. You swing open a stall and crouch down as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hear footsteps behind you a few seconds later and then a hand holding your hair back, Jess must have walked in. 

“It’s alright, just breathe,” she says as she rubs your back with her free hand. A few moments later, you flush the toilet and sit down on the floor to process what just happened. 

“Here, I grabbed you water and some paper towels,” she said as she turned around to grab the things and hand them to you. “I think I have some mints in my bag so I’ll be right back,” she says as she gets up.

“T- Thanks,” you mumble as you wipe your face with the paper towels, taking a few deep breaths before you slowly get up and walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out before taking a few sips of water. You look in the mirror and take a few more breaths, examining your tired face while trying to hold yourself together. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you whisper to yourself. 

A few hours later - End of the game

“Are you okay?” Joe asks as he engulfs you in a big hug after he walks out of the locker room. You were a little surprised that he found out so quickly but then you realize Jess must have told Sam and Sam must have told Joe and now you had to deal with Mama Bear Joe. Whenever you got sick he would baby the hell out of you even if it was something as minor as a cold or headache. 

“I think so,” you mumble against his neck. “I didn’t throw up again, thank god. But I still feel a bit shaken up,”. 

“You wanna cancel tonight’s dinner?” he asks as he rubs your back before pressing a few kisses to your forehead. 

“No, definitely not. We’ve been meaning to have them over for a while and I would hate to cancel last minute like that,” you say as you pull your head out of his neck. 

“Okay, then let’s go to the doctor real quick,” he says, his inner Mama Bear peeking through.

“Joe, No,” you say as you shake your head.

“Y/N, you threw up,” he said.

“I’m going to be fine,” you laugh. “It’s not like I passed out or something and I don’t even think any doctors are open since it’s Sunday afternoon,”.

“The team Doctors should still be here,” he says as he moves his head to see if he can spot them. 

“I know you’re worried but I’m fine. No need to bug anyone about it,” you say as you move your hands to cup his face, moving it back so that he is looking into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes softening out of concern for you.

“Positive,” you assure. 

“Okay,” he nods. “I wonder what made you throw up? It can’t be breakfast since you barely had anything to eat,” he says as releases you from the hug. He moves his hand down to yours and starts to lead you both back out to the car, hand in hand like usual. You’d always wait for him outside the locker room after a game so you could walk back out together to debrief. You both tried to keep post-game talk to a minimum once you got home especially if it was a bad game, so you got all of it out on the walk to the car and the drive home. 

“I honestly have no idea. I had two milkshakes yesterday but I don’t see how that would’ve made me throw up a day later, you say as you look up at him.

“Two?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up as he gives you a look of confusion.

“I was craving milkshakes, Okay,” you laugh. “And before you judge me, let me remind you that you ate 5 slices of pizza in one sitting after the Divisional game last year,”.

“I was hungry,” he laughs. 

“And I was craving sweet treats,” you pout. 

“Okay, Fine,” he retreats. “If it wasn’t the shakes then maybe it’s a stomach bug? That could also be why you felt tired all day and slept in this morning,” he says as he squeezes your hand.

“I guess we’ll find out in a few days,” you sigh. “I hope it’s not a stomach bug because I don’t want you to get sick too,”.

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles. 

“I don’t knowww,” you tease. “I think I’ll have to pause the kisses for a few days so I don’t give whatever I have to you,”. 

Joe whips his head around and glares at you, “No fucking way,”. 

Joe would die if you stopped kissing him. He could not go about his day without a good morning kiss from you and he could not sleep without a good night kiss from you, they were his favorite things. You remember your first kiss with him and how insatiable he was once he felt his lips against yours, needing to feel them against his all the time. 

“It’s cute how you’re still the same 20-year-old that can’t go a day without a kiss from me,” you say as you softly push his shoulder. 

“Maybe don’t have the softest lips in the world and then I’ll stay away,” he jokes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, no can do,” you giggle.

“Then I guess I can’t say away,” he grins as he leans down and presses a big kiss on your lips.

“You’re probably going to throw up tomorrow,” you smile against him. 

“I’ll pay that price if it means I get to kiss my girl,” he says before pressing another kiss to your lips. 

After the Family Dinner 

The Family Dinner went smoothly since your nausea died down and you could finally eat something without feeling like you were going to throw up again. You still felt a little tired but managed to push through as entertaining conversations with family members kept you awake. Now, you were sitting on the bed after your shower and were waiting for Joe to come upstairs after cleaning up. You offered to help him since there was a lot to clean up but he insisted that you went upstairs and relaxed a little after the weird day you had, so that’s exactly what you did.

You were scrolling on your phone when you heard the bedroom door close. You look up and see your adorable husband trying to catch his breath, “Told you I could’ve helped you,” you shrugged.

“Cleaning up after a dinner party is not for the weak,” he sighs. “I didn’t realize we were so messy and there were so many things all over the place. And then I had to get the trashcans outside before the downpour started so I literally had to run around to grab the bags and take them down to the trashcans,”.

“Aww, is my poor baby tired?” you tease.

“This is not funny,” he said as he gave you a look while taking his shirt off. “I could’ve slipped and fallen in the rain,”. 

You went silent as you watched him pat his body with his shirt before tossing it into the laundry hamper, his muscular chest glowing in the warm lighting of your bedroom. Joe was built like a Greek God, the way his chest looked like it had been crafted from gold, and the way his golden hair and blue eyes always caught you in a trance. 

“If he just bent me over right now–,” you thought to yourself, finding yourself in one of those trances again before you felt a sudden sensation of weight on you that pushed you back onto the bed, snapping the impure thoughts out if your head.

“Mmph, I missed you today,” Joe said, his entire body on yours right now.

“I literally saw you the entire day,” you giggled as you moved your hands into his hair.

“I know, but I feel like we barely saw each other at the same time. My mom had you occupied for the majority of the dinner and we didn’t get any alone time,” he sighed. 

“Alone time?” you questioned. “Alone time for what?”.

“For this,” he says as he kisses your lips, slowly deepening the kiss as you feel his warm tongue enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan when you feel his hands slip under your shirt, his big hands rubbing your plush skin. You open up your legs a bit more to accommodate his big body as you suck on his lip and pull him closer, his hands now moving up to your bare chest. You wrap your legs around his waist and move your lips against his in a way that you know drove him crazy, slowly switching back and forth between his top and bottom lip. You feel his hand massage your breast which would normally make you feel pleasure, but this time all you felt was pain.

“Ow,” you wince as you pull away from the kiss, his hands immediately stopping. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his face and body frozen at your apparent ache. 

“Do that again,” you say to him, then feel his hand squeezing your breast again and still feel pain.

“Fuck, that hurts,” you whisper. 

He slips his hand out from under your shirt and moves off of your body, “What’s wrong?”,

“My boobs feel so sore,” you whine.

“Is it your period?” he asks as he runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t think so,” you sigh. “I don’t know what’s up with me today,” you say as you slide your hands across your face. 

“It’s okay,” Joe says while grabbing your hands and kissing them. “I told you this morning that we all have those kinds of days and I think that’s all this is. You might have just caught something from someone and are a little sick,”. 

“I don’t know what kind of sickness involves these kinds of symptoms but I guess you’re right,” you say, not being able to come up with any other reason as to why you were having an off day. 

“Just take it easy tonight, I’ll grab you some Tylenol and Water,” he says as he slowly gets up from the bed.

“But what about–,”.

“Nope,” he says, shutting you down as he knew what you were going to say. “Sex is not what you need right now,”.

You drop your shoulders and give him a pouty face which usually works, but this time it didn’t. “Joeee,” you grumble. 

“Sorry beautiful, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when you feel better,” he smiles.

“How is it fair that you still get your kisses while I’m sick but I can’t get laid?” you say as you cross your arms and bat your eyelashes. 

“Because one involves less tiresome actions than the other,” he winks as he walks out of the bedroom to grab you some things from downstairs. 

You faceplant forward onto the comforter as you let out a loud groan, one that he could hear from the hall. “You’ll thank me later,” you hear him laugh. 

You detested being sick. Not because you didn’t get to partake in certain activities, but because you felt like shit. You had never heard of a sickness that involved being tired, your taste buds acting up, throwing up, and having sore boobs. This was a strange combination of symptoms and it really was taking a toll on you and it would probably get worse.

But were you actually sick, or was this something else?

The Next Morning 

You suddenly jolt awake from the feeling of your stomach churning and your body extremely hot all of a sudden. You unwrap yourself from Joe’s hold and run into the bathroom, feeling a burning sensation in your throat again and once again crouching down and emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You see Joe walk into the bathroom from the corner of your eye, crouching down next to you and holding your hair back while whispering sweet words to calm you down into your ear. 

A few moments later you flush the toilet and wipe your lips with a piece of toilet paper, then fall back into Joe’s arms. “Mmm,” you whine as you hide your face in his chest as he rubs your back.

“Still not feeling better?” he asks.

“Mm, Mm,” you reply as you shake your head, a few tears falling from your eyes. You feel Joe shift around under you, then feel his hands around your legs and waist, slowly picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the couch, not a word coming from his mouth as he was doing this. 

He carefully placed you on the couch, taking a few push blankets and setting them around you to keep you warm. He then brought over a glass of water for you and some anti-nausea pills and mints.

“Take these for now. I’m gonna heat up some soup for you to eat for breakfast and order some soup for lunch for you while I’m at practice so you can stay in bed all day. I’m also gonna stop at the pharmacy to see what other meds I can pick up,” he says as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Thank You,” you cooed. 

“I love you so much,” he added after placing another kiss on your forehead. “You’re going to be fine, I promise,”. 

“I love you more,” you smile as you kiss his cheek. 

You watch as he walks over to the fridge, taking out the bowl of soup his Mom made for you last night to ease your stomach in case you felt nauseous again. You turn back around and pull the blankets up higher as you try to get comfortable. Although you hated Mama Bear Joe and the over-the-top antics, you loved when he would do these little things for you—as silly as it sounded. It was his responsibility as your husband to take care of you, but you still felt your heart explode when he would do so.

After eating the soup he made for you, Joe went upstairs to get ready for practice and then spent a few minutes with you on the couch to make sure you didn’t throw up again before he left.

He laid his head in your lap, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair as you felt his hot breath against your stomach. 

“I really don’t want to leave you alone today,” he mumbled against your stomach.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’ll be fine though, don’t stress,”.

“I just feel bad that you’re sick and I can’t be here to take care of you,” he sighs.

You stop running your fingers through his hair which causes him to look up and meet your eyes, “Don’t feel bad, Joe. What my stomach decides to do when you’re not here is in neither of our hands,” you joke.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he says.

“I promise I’ll be fine. If I need anything I can call a friend or I’ll text you,” you smile.

“If you feel really bad, drive to the facility,” he says as he gets up from your lap. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too-,”.

“Drive to the facility,” he says again, giving you a look that tells you he means business. 

“Okayyy, Mama Bear,” you joke as you kiss his cheek.

“Uhh, what about my lips?” he says as he raises his eyebrows. “I told you, I don’t care if I throw up,”. 

You roll your eyes before leaning in and pressing two sweet kisses on his lips, feeling Joe’s smile through them both, and then a final one on his nose. “Bye Joe,” you say lazily, your tiredness peeking through. 

He smiles at you and gets up from the couch, his gaze lingering on your face for a few seconds. He couldn’t leave you alone, he didn’t want to leave you alone. “Maybe I should stay,” he says as he sits down again. 

“Joe,” you glare, now feeling a little annoyed at his overthinking. 

“What?” he asks.

“Go to practice,” you say, purposefully lacing your voice with annoyance. 

“No,” he denies.

“Joe,” you say, this time giving him a look that told him you were incredibly close to snapping.

“What if you throw up again?” he asks.

“I’ll take some medicine and drink water,” you shrug.

“And what if you get a fever or something,”.

“That’s what we have Tylenol for,” you laugh.

“What if you pass out?”.

He really wasn’t budging, was he? “Joe!” you yell, softly because you don’t like raising your voices at each other. “I love you, but please go to practice,”. 

“Okay, Okay. I’ll go,” he says. “But if you need anything, and I mean anything, please call me,”.

“I will, I promise,” you smile, grabbing his hand and giving him a soft squeeze to hopefully ease his worries like how he did for you. 

A few hours later 

You stayed on the couch for about two hours so that you could fully digest the soup without doing anything to make you throw up again before slowly making your way upstairs to freshen up and take a nice long shower; the steamy warm water hitting your stomach provided much-needed relief.  

You’re brushing your wet hair in the mirror when you see your phone light up from an incoming Facetime from your best friend. You pick up and prop your phone against the mirror before going back to your hair. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she smiles.

“Hey, Soph,” you sigh, your voice heavy and tired. 

“That’s not promising. You still feeling sick?” she asks.

“Threw up again this morning,” you say as you pursed your lips. 

She stays silent for a few seconds, biting her lip and staring at you like you had two heads. “What?” you ask as you put the brush down.

“You know, the symptoms you told me you were having kind of sounds like something else,” she says.

“Sounds like what?” you snort, preparing yourself for another one of her wild theories. 

“But I don’t know for sure because you’ve never mentioned it before,” she thinks.

“What?” you ask.

“Are you pregnant?” she grins. 

You pause for a few seconds to let what she said register in your brain. “HA,” you yell a few seconds later. “That’s hilarious,” you say as you throw your head back. 

“Y/N, I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, her tone making you stop laughing. 

“Sophia, I can tell you for a fact that I'm not pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’s just a stomach bug,” you shake your head as you reach for your hair clip.

“Okay, but when was the last time you guys, you know,” she winked. 

“Well, let’s just say we make sure to get our workouts in,” you say with a cheeky smile as you clip your hair back. 

“Workouts?” she laughs. “Now I know what you mean to say whenever you tell me you can’t talk because you and Joe are about to ‘workout’,”.

A throaty laugh leaves your lips as you recall all the moments you’ve dodged your friend’s calls and texts with a “workout” excuse. Although, you did end up sweating and probably burning a few calories so it was pretty much like a workout. 

“Anyway, hypothetically if you are pregnant and are having symptoms, you’d have to be pregnant for at least 4-8 weeks by now,”.

“Rightttt,” you nod slowly. Why were you even entertaining her theory? You couldn’t be pregnant, there was no way. 

“What happened 4-8 weeks ago?” She asked.

“Uhhhh…,” you trail off, trying to remember anything significant. “My birthday was 5 ish weeks ago,” you say. 

“Okay, so did you-,”.

“Oh yeah, we did,” you answered with a laugh even before she could finish asking the question, recalling that memorable night that had you sore for the entirety of the next day. 

“Okay, have you been trying for a baby?” she asks.

You pause for a few seconds before recalling the conversation you and Joe had about this subject, “We haven’t been specifically trying but we talked about having a baby and everything a while ago and decided that it would happen when it was supposed to happen,”.

Flashback to September - A few days before the start of the season 

You and Joe were lounging together on the couch, his hand in your hair, playing with the loose strands as you rubbed your hand along his thigh. You both longed for these calm and quiet moments when it was just the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms. This kind of one-on-one time would be significantly reduced once the season starts, so you both were making sure to get as much in as you could now. 

“How do you feel about having a baby right now?” Joe asked, breaking the silence with something so deep and serious that completely went against the thought you just had of cherishing peaceful moments with just the two of you.

“Hm?” you asked as you turned your head to face him. “I thought we already had this conversation,”.  You’d talked about the idea of wanting kids ages ago before you got engaged when you were talking to each other about your futures and although you had been married for over a year now, this was the first time the topic of kids came up as a married couple.

“Well, we did have this conversation,” he smiled. “But that was before we got married and it was just about if we wanted kids together. Now we’re married,” he said as he moved his hand to your stomach. 

“Someone having baby fever?” you beamed as you pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Actually, I am,” he said, his face telling you he was being dead serious. “The thought of Baby Burrow running around the house sounds like a dream”. 

“Really?” you question, a little surprised at his thoughts. You knew that Joe wanted to have kids with you at some point, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon since he’s still at an important point in his career. 

“Really,” he says. “I love you more than anything on this earth and the thought of you having my baby makes me want to run around and scream. The thought of a little baby running around and screaming also makes me want to run around and scream,”.

You laugh at his childlike excitement then lean in to press a kiss on his pink lips, “I love that you’re so excited about having kids with me,”.

“Excited is an understatement, I’m Ecstatic. Having a baby has way more of an impact on you than it does me, so I wanted to see where you were at about it,” he adds. 

“Well, we said we ideally wanted 2—one boy and one girl—but no more than 3 if another happens to come along. I think that still stands?” you ask.

“Yes, it does,” he nods. 

“Wouldn’t things get too chaotic if I was pregnant during the season though?” you ask as you play with his fingers. 

“If you were pregnant during the season, Baby B would arrive during the off-season so that lines up perfectly since I would be able to be around a lot more,” he said. “It would be a bit chaotic for a little because I would be thinking about you 90% of the time, but it’s better than having a baby during the season and you being by yourself,”. 

“True,” you nod as you do the math in your head. If you got pregnant anywhere from now to December the baby would arrive between May and July, which would be perfect for you both. 

“It’s all up to you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you for anything. If you’re not ready for that then that's okay,” he assured. 

“It’s not that I’m feeling rushed, I just don’t want to rush you into anything,” you say. “I know how important these next few years are for your career and I don’t want you to feel like you have too many things on your plate,”. You wanted to have a family more than anything, but you also knew that what Joe was doing was incredibly important to not just him, but you also. If it was just the two of you for a few years, you wouldn’t mind, even if part of you wished it was the three of you. 

“A family is a priority, not just something on a plate,” he smiles. “I told you that when I proposed too, remember?”. 

Oh, you remembered all right. When Joe proposed, you obviously said yes. You couldn’t imagine spending the rest of your life with any other person, but you were a little hesitant about the idea of getting married while he was still chasing his first ring because you didn’t want to become a distraction for him when it came to his career. You felt awful for thinking that way, but once again, Joe fixed that with the snap of his fingers. He told you and made sure you knew that you weren’t just some “thing” in his life, you were a priority. You mattered to him more than football did and it would always be that way as football was transient, and you would always be there with him. You were his whole world.

When you first met, he knew instantly that he wanted to do everything with you. He wanted to be the guy who took you out on dates, showed you a love unlike any kind you had ever experienced, cleaned up your tears whenever you were sad, kissed you at every chance he got, and eventually be the man who proposed to you and married you. Lucky for him, all that happened. Now he wanted to take the next step, having a family with you. 

“I remember,” you smile. “You made sure that I got that in my head,”.

“So just like you, a baby would become a priority. And I’d love to see my two favorite humans up in the suite watching their daddy play ball before he gets gray hairs,” he smiles.

“Their daddy? You mean the baby’s daddy?” you question.

He tilts his head and raises his brow, giving you a look that makes you throw your head back in a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, I mean their daddy. We both know you use that name a lot in a different context,” he winks.

“Joseph Lee,” you shriek as you gently hit his chest while a blush creeps up your face. You stop laughing and stare at him for a few seconds, thinking about what life would be like with a little baby chasing you both around the house while calling you mama and dada. You could have a little family of your own that you would come home to every day. Endless mornings filled with laughter and precious moments as a trio, sleepless nights curled up with Joe in your bed as you stayed awake in case your baby woke up; a lifetime of love was waiting for you.  

“Having a baby sounds amazing, Joe,” you smile as you tuck your head under his chin. “Being your girlfriend was fantastic, being your wife is like a dream, but being the mother to our child is the best thing that could ever happen to me,”.

“You’re going to be the best daddy to our little baby. I can’t wait for the day when Baby Burrow can see you out on the field, absolutely tearing it up and putting everyone on notice. I can’t wait for the day when they realize who their daddy is and see all the great things he’s done in his life,” you coo.  

“Y/N..” he softly says, his heart bursting from your sweet words but also from the thought of all of that actually happening.  

“The greatest thing I’ve done in my life is make you my forever,” his face turning a little red at the words leaving his mouth.

“Aww, Joe,” you say as your face turns into a pout, your heart now being the one bursting at his sweet words. “Everything you say makes me fall more in love with you,”.

“I feel the same way,” punctuating his sentence with another kiss. “We have all the time in the world to have a baby so there’s no rush obviously,” he smiles as he pulls you closer to him, resting his hand on your stomach. 

“Agreed. Whenever Baby Burrow wants to come, it will,” you grin against his cheek. “We don’t necessarily have to try but we also don’t need to do anything to prevent it now that we’re open to it,”.

You feel his hand slide up to your chest, his other hand moving under your shirt and sliding up to the clasp of your bra. “Think we should get a head start on it?” he whispers in your ear, his voice incredibly husky and intoxicating. 

“Sounds like a great idea,” you wink. “I’d hate for us to be slackers,” you say before you lean in and capture his lips in a kiss that ignited something inside of you both. 

End of flashback 

“Well, let’s look at the past few days. You feel tired, things don’t taste the same, you threw up twice and feel nauseous a lot, you’re bloated as hell, plus mood swings and cravings. Those are all typical pregnancy symptoms,” she nods. “How about your period?”.

You freeze when she says that, your face dropping and your body tensing up, “Fuck,” you panic. “I didn’t even check that,” you say as you grab the phone off the vanity and pull up your period tracking app. You sit down on the toilet lid and look at the calendar, your heart dropping when you see bright red letters that spell out “Late”. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling like your world just flipped upside down. 

“What?” she asks.

“Ummm, I’m going to have to call you back later,” you say as you return to the FaceTime screen. 

“Oh my GOD,” she screams. “Y/N holy shit-,”.

“Soph, I really gotta go,” you say as you get up and start looking through the baskets in the bathroom for any pregnancy tests. 

“Okay, Okay. I’ll check in with you later,”.

“Thank you, I’ll call you later,” you say as you quickly hang up and throw your phone onto a pile of towels. 

“Where are the tests when you actually need one,” you grumble. 

After 10 minutes of searching every bathroom in the house, you couldn’t find a single pregnancy test so you decided to instacart a few tests to the house. You thought about going out and buying a few since that would be faster but you figured that word would get around town fast if Joe Burrow’s wife was buying pregnancy tests and if you actually were pregnant, you definitely were going to keep it a secret for a little. 

You were now sitting on the floor of the master bathroom with a glass of water to calm you down, anxiously waiting for the tests to arrive. You were a little nervous even though you both knew you wanted this, but the thought of it actually happening was a little too real for you. You heard your phone ding across the bathroom so you immediately got up to check and see if it was a notification that the tests were here, but it was a text from Joe. 

Joe: how are you feeling?

Anxious. You were feeling Anxious.

You: a bit better :) the soup helped

A lie. That was a lie. The soup did help though, but you did not feel better. 

Joe: that’s good. i’m gonna swing by the store later and pick up some tums and pepto bismol tablets, you need anything else?

Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream would be great since that was what you were craving right now. But the weird thing was, you hated Mint Chocolate Chip. Was this a pregnancy craving?

You: mint choco chip ice cream would be nice

Joe: are you okay?

You: yeah.. why?

Joe: y/n, you HATE mint chocolate chip 

You: i know but I feel like eating some right now. maybe it’s the stomach bug that’s craving it

Joe: so now the stomach bug is hungry?

You: seems like it 

Joe: okay then, a tub of mint choco chip ice cream will be on its way in a few hours for mr. stomach bug

You: me and mr. stomach bug say thank you joeyyy 

Joe: of course :) anyway, i gotta go back to practice. i’ll see you in a bit, make sure to drink a lot of water and eat the soup I ordered for you

You sent him a picture of you drinking a glass of water and as you were about to close your phone, a notification popped up that said “Delivered” which made your stomach do a backflip, but not the kind that made you feel like you were going to throw up. Instead, the kind that made you feel like your world was about to flip upside down.  

“Shit,” you mumbled. You ran out of the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the front door to pick up the package, and then ran into the downstairs bathroom. 

You ordered a ClearBlue digital test and a traditional First Response Test for the most accurate read. You spent a few minutes doing your business before flipping the tests upside down and setting a 3-minute timer. You sat down on the ledge of the tub, your leg bouncing up and down as you started to think about what would happen after you flipped the tests over.

If it was Positive, in 9 months you’d have a little baby in your arms and a family. A little boy or girl that you’d get to watch grow up and raise with the love of your life. Little hands wrapping around your fingers every night as you rocked your baby to sleep and adorable little laughs that would fill your quiet house every morning would brighten your day faster than a cup of coffee. 

If it was Negative, there would be nothing. It’s not like you were trying hard to have a baby, but your heart would still hurt if all this anticipation and thinking was for nothing. You tried to not get your hopes up too much, but you couldn’t help but think about all the things that would happen if it was positive. 

God, you wished it was Positive. You wanted to see that smile on Joe’s face when you told him you were having a baby for real. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you thought you were Pregnant but then found out you weren’t, that would break your heart again. 

“DING”, the timer was up. 

You took a few deep breaths before getting up from the ledge of the tub, walking over to the counter, and staring at the upside-down tests.

“Here we go,” you sigh.

You closed your eyes and flipped over the ClearBlue test. You slowly opened your eyes, the words reading “POSITIVE”.  

Your heart skipped a beat at the words. Tears started to form in your eyes and your heartbeat increased, all at the same time. You quickly flipped over the Traditional Test, 2 bold pink lines visible on the slot. 

You were Pregnant. 

You dropped the test on the counter and broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face and your hands shaking. You were actually Pregnant. You were going to be a Mom and Joe was going to be a Dad. It was actually happening. 

“Oh my god,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You pulled out your phone and took a picture of the tests, sending them to Sophia since she was the only one who was in on it at the moment. You placed your phone back down on the counter as tears kept falling from your eyes at the thought of actually being pregnant, your brain was in overdrive right now. In 9 months, you and Joe would become a family of 3. Your heart gushed at the thought of having a little baby of your own in your arms. Being a mother means experiencing and showing a different kind of love, and you can't wait.

How were you going to tell him? How were you going to hide this from the public? Was it a boy or a girl? So many questions filled your head, but all you could truly focus on was the fact that this was really happening. 

“Holy shit,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes again. You look at yourself in the mirror, lifting your shirt and inspecting your belly.

“And I thought this was bloat,” you laugh through the tears as you rub your hands around the little bump that was forming. 

“Hey little baby,” you say as you talk to your stomach. “I know you can’t hear me, but it’s your mama. Me and Daddy love you so much. He doesn’t know yet but you’re going to be the sweetest surprise,” you grin. 

A few more hours later 

You spent the rest of the day in bed, content and relaxed as you knew why you were feeling so off so you weren’t worried about it anymore. You spent a few hours scheduling your OBGYN appointment, researching some things that newly pregnant women should do and not do, and brainstorming ideas on how you were going to tell Joe. All the ideas you found seemed basic or overdone—none really sticking out to you—so you decided to wait a bit and see if anything popped into your head. 

Currently, you were eating the soup that Joe had ordered for you while rewatching an episode of Stranger Things. He ordered you a Tomato Soup with a crisp grilled cheese sandwich, one of your favorite comfort meals, and go-to stomach bug remedy. 

“Well now that I know that it’s not a stomach bug, I hope you enjoy this soup, Baby Burrow,” you whisper to your stomach as you hear the bedroom door swing open, prompting you to look up. You watched as a sweaty Joe walked into the bedroom, placing his practice bag on the floor before walking over to you. 

“I didn’t even hear you come home,” you smiled as you paused the TV and placed your bowl of soup on the nightstand.

“How are you?” he asked as he sat down in front of you.

“Amazing,” you smile, feeling so much better after finding out the best news possible. 

“Really? You seemed pretty low when I left,” he asks, incredibly confused at how your mood did a 360.

“I feel a lot better and way more energized than I did this morning. I took a nice long shower after you left and lounged in bed all day,” you say, trying so hard to not tell him the real reason as to why you were feeling better. “No nausea or anything,”.

“That’s great,” he smiled. “I’m glad whatever you have is passing quickly. You’re kinda glowing too,”.

“Mhm,” you lie. It in fact was not passing quickly and wasn’t planning on passing anytime soon. You look down and notice that he’s still in his compression shirt and workout shorts which is odd since after practice he would come home in a more home-like outfit, usually some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “Did you not take a shower before you left?”.

“Nope, I wanted to get to the store and get home as soon as I could to be with you,”.

He was so thoughtful, never failing to show how much he cared for you. The next 9 months were going to be perfect as you had the most extraordinary person by your side every step of the way. You pull Joe forward by his shoulder, letting his body cover yours again like last night as you melt back into the pillows.

“I’m super sweaty and you’re still not 100% better yet, Y/N,” he laughed. “I think this can wait,”.

“I have pure intentions,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I can take another shower as long as I get my cuddles,”.

“You hate when I touch you when I’m sweaty,” he scoffed. 

“Well, I guess I like it now,” you giggle as you press a few kisses to his cheek. Your hands travel down to his back, rubbing his soft skin through the thin fabric of his compression shirt

“In the 6 years that we have been together, you’ve never once willingly hugged me when I was sweaty and gross,” he says as he digs his head further into the crook of your neck. . It was true, you hated touching him when he was all gross and grimy, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him close to you, and now your baby as well. 

“I just want you close, that’s all,” you smile.

“You okay?” he asks before he presses a delicate kiss to your neck.

“I’m great, maybe even a little over the moon,” you say as you bite your lip.

“Care to tell me why?” he says, pulling his head out of your neck and making eye contact with you. You could never lie to Joe; anytime you tried he could see you weren’t being truthful by just looking into your eyes. 

Tell-tale eyes are what he called them, your eyes always gave it away. Your eyes gave away how you felt about Joe when you first met, which was that you wanted him more than anything on this planet. Your eyes gave away how much you loved him when he made one of your dreams come true by taking you on a trip to Ohio back in December when you were in college and driving you hours away to the beach just to see the snow falling, something incredibly weird yet breathtakingly beautiful. And now, your eyes were about to give away the fact that you were pregnant. 

You break the intense eye contact and look up at the ceiling to avoid his eyes, the perfect lie popping up in your head, “I think Dylan is proposing to Sophia soon,”. This wasn’t really a lie but it was the perfect thing to hide the real reason why you were acting like this.

“Really? That’s great,” Joe smiled. “He’s a really cool guy,”. 

“I know right? I remember in middle school when we would go on and on about our dream guys, our prince charmings, and I’m so glad she found hers,” you say as you move your hand back up to his hair.

“Did you find yours?” he asked, a solemn look on his face.  

You gaze into his eyes for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss, “I found him and he’s even better than what I imagined,”. 

“I love you,” he says against your lips.

“I love you even more,” you say as you pull his head back down to your neck, his arm moving around your waist. You feel him rest his hand on your stomach, completely oblivious to the fact that he is touching his child right now; the thought of that makes you smile even harder.  You stayed like that for about half an hour before Joe insisted that he took a shower, even inviting you to join him but adding that there would be no funny business, but you said you would take a shower before bed so you could be fully relaxed. 

You made your way downstairs, inspecting all the things he got you from the store. A variety of medicines–many of which will help combat the morning sickness you will be dealing with for the next few months–the icecream you requested, a box of dark chocolates (your guilty pleasure), a bouquet of baby pink and white tulips, and an adorable pink dinosaur holding a heart plushie. You smile at the treats he got for you before you feel a hand on either side of your hips and then a set of lips pressing kisses along your shoulder. 

“Got you some things to hopefully make you feel better,” he mumbled against your skin.

“I didn’t even hear you come downstairs,” your eyes widened at the sudden touch, Joe laughing at your reaction. 

“Put a bell on me at this point,” he jokes.

“Might have to,” you say as you turn around to face him, his hands still holding you in place. “Thanks for the goodies,” you smile. 

“Of course,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss. “Although, I still don’t know why you wanted Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream. You always say it tastes like toothpaste whenever you take a bite of mine,”.

“Maybe it’s just my taste buds changing again? Everything I used to like a lot tastes gross, and everything I used to hate a lot tastes good,”. Part of that is possibly true, your taste buds could have changed a bit because you’re pregnant, but the ice cream was definitely the beginning of the strange cravings you were going to have. 

“If that’s the case, maybe you’ll like crawfish now,” he smiled.

“Absolutely not,” you say, your face scrunching up in disgust. “I didn’t like it in Louisiana, and I sure as hell will not like it now,”.

“It was worth a try,” he said as he dropped his head. 

You press a kiss to his face, feeling his scruff against your lips, before moving out of his hold and walking over to the cabinet to pull out a bowl for the ice cream. “Will ice cream make you feel better?” you laugh.

He looks up, contemplating for a few seconds before saying, “Ice cream and Mario Kart would make me feel better,”. 

“Your wish is my command. Go sit down, I’ll bring you some ice cream,” you say as you pull out two bowls. 

“Nope,” he says as you hear him walk over to you. “You go sit down. I will get us some ice cream,”. 

“I got it,” you smile. You watch as he places his hands on his hips and tilts his head, this is his standing-on business pose and told you to not argue with him. 

“Alright, Alright. I’ll go sit down,” you say as you throw your hands up.

“Good,” he says as he turns you around and lightly pushes you forward. 

You sit down on the couch and turn on the switch to load up Mario Kart, one of your favorite games next to Smash Bros. You and Joe would always find yourself playing Mario Kart, and it all started on your 3rd date back in college. You get to the profile selection screen, seeing Joe’s ‘Mario’ profile and your ‘Princess Peach’ one which makes you remember when it all started. 

Flashback to LSU

You were sitting next to Joe on the floor of his apartment, both your knees touching as you were heavily concentrated on the game in front of you. You were playing in the ‘Special Cup’ and were on your 4th map—Rainbow Road—and you two were neck and neck with each other. 

“You’re going to lose slowpoke,” you smirk as you get in front of Joe, your competitive nature coming out.

“I never lose,” he smiles as he uses his boost to get in front of you, dropping a banana peel while he is at it causing you to spin out of control.  

“Noo,” you whine as you repeatedly press the buttons on your controller to regain your form. 

This was your 3rd date with Joe. Earlier he had taken you to the aquarium because you both were incredibly fascinated by marine life, and then lunch at your favorite taco place downtown. After, he invited you back to his place to watch a movie which then turned into playing Mario Kart once you saw his gaming stuff. 

You met Joe through a mutual friend at a college party a few weeks ago, his intoxicating eyes catching yours from across the room but you were too nervous to make a move given who he was. Little did you know your best friend’s new boyfriend was good friends with Joe, so then you ended up meeting him for real. The first time you were face to face, you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes as they were bluer than the ocean. He made the first move, striking up an unusual yet entertaining conversation about whether pineapple belonged on pizza as you both were eating pizza.

You and Joe hit it off instantly as you had a lot of things in common and talking to each other felt so incredibly easy, you both wanted to sit there and talk to each other for hours and hours and would have if you were sitting someplace else. He was also the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on which made you want to get to know him in another type of way as well, but you kept that to yourself. Lucky for you, he asked you out on a date right after the party was over and naturally you said yes. 

The 1st date went amazingly, then 2nd date was even better, and now you were playing video games with him in his apartment after your 3rd date. Joe was such a sweet guy, always paying attention to you and making it incredibly obvious that he really liked you. He thought you were the coolest girl he’d ever met and loved spending time with you because it always left him feeling more lively than he was before. You made him so happy.

You lean forward, your fingers rapidly dancing around the controller as you try to get ahead of Joe as you approach the final stretch of the map. 

“How did you get so close so fast?” he said in disbelief. 

“Told you, you’re a slowpoke,” you giggle as you pass him, the finish line in sight. 

Joe scoffs and leans in, his fingers beginning to move around the controller rapidly as he tries to overtake you, but you are too good for him.

“Aaaannnnd, I win!” you yell as you make it to the finish line before him, Joe arriving shortly after. You laugh as you throw your hands in the air, watching as the screen shows your character Princess Peach with confetti and balloons around her and a congratulations message on the screen.

“Damn,” Joe whispers as he looks over at you looking absolutely precious as you celebrate your victory. His eyes trailed down to what you were wearing: one of his LSU football hoodies. He gave it to you after your last date because he took you to a drive-in movie and it was a really windy night and you felt cold; the fact that you wore it again made his heart swell.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Mario,” you smile as you move your legs underneath you and turn to look at him, Joe’s character being Mario and yours being Peach. 

“Peach always ends up with Mario. I’ll get you sooner rather than later,” he winks, sending shivers down your spine. Was he talking about getting you in the game, or getting you in real life?

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?” you say as you raise an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. 

“Because,” he says as he leans in a little closer to you, your cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden. “Mario really likes Peach and it’s only a matter of time before Peach confesses that she does too,”.

You felt your heart skip a beat when he was speaking. He was talking about the two of you. 

“How do you know Peach likes Mario? I don’t think she’s ever said it,” you say, playing along with what Joe was saying. 

“Yeah, she’s never said it,” he shrugged. “But Mario can see the way Peach looks at him and acts around him. Peach’s eyes give it away, her tell-tale eyes,”. 

You lean in closer just like he did, “What is it about her eyes that give it away?”.

“It’s the way her eyes are always twinkling when she’s with Mario. Every time he makes her laugh or smile he notices that her eyes start sparkling and twinkling and he notices that they don’t do that when her friends or someone else makes her laugh,” he says, moving a little closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours. 

He was right. The way you acted around Joe was different than how you acted around others. With him, it was different. Good different. 

“Well, Mario must be doing something to make Peach act like that. Eyes only twinkle and sparkle when someone is feeling strong emotions,” you smile as you gaze into Joe’s starry eyes. 

“Exactly,” he nods. “She must be feeling strong emotions towards Mario,”.

“I guess she is,” you say short of a whisper, your heart rate increasing as butterflies swarm your belly. You liked Joe. You liked Joe a lot. 

Joe felt his heart explode when you said that. “I like you,” he blurted after leaning in even closer, his face just inches from yours. 

“I like you too,” you smile as you look down at his lips and then back to his eyes again. 

You feel him lift his hand off of yours and cup your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “I like you a lot,” he said again. 

“I like you a lot too,” you blush. 

You see Joe leaning in more, your palms getting sweaty as you know what is about to happen, but you don’t let your nerves stop you. You leaned in as well and a few seconds later your lips were now touching. Joe felt himself melt into the kiss as your lips felt like clouds against his, so soft and warm. His lips felt icy against yours, icy but soft at the same time. The warmth of your lips was radiating onto his and he felt amazing. 

You lifted your hand and stuffed it into his hair as he reached for your waist and pulled you closer to the point where you were practically in his lap; the kiss now getting deeper with no sign of stopping in sight. 

A few minutes later, you both pull away for some air, a big smile on both of your faces. “Your lips are so soft,” he said.

“I’m glad you liked them,” you blushed. 

“I told you I’d get you sooner rather than later,” he said as he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“I’m really glad you did,” you said as you pulled his head back up and leaned in to kiss him again, Joe falling back against the carpet and bringing you down with him as you both smiled into the kiss. 

End of flashback 

You smile at the memory and then suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. This was the perfect way to tell Joe you were pregnant. You could make Baby Burrow his or her own profile on Mario Kart and the next time Joe opened the game, he would see it. You still had that sweatshirt he gave you that you were wearing the day you told each other how you felt about each other and could wrap the Pregnancy Tests in the hoodie. It was the perfect callback to what really started it all for you both. 

“Here you go,” Joe said, breaking you out of your trance as he handed you a bowl and sat down next to you. 

“Thank you,” you smile as you press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You ready for me to beat you again?” you giggle.

“Please,” he scoffs. “I told you, Mario always gets Peach and not just in real life. You ain’t beating me for shit,” he laughed. 

“Oh, it’s on,” you say as you take a bite of the minty ice cream, which actually tastes really good. 

The next afternoon 

Today went by pretty quickly, Joe left early in the morning for practice and you had a fairly normal morning until you threw up halfway through your light workout session. Morning Sickness was going to get old fast. You took a nice bath after to calm down your nausea and to unwind which definitely helped. When you looked in the mirror after your bath, you saw that your belly was peeking out a little more which would definitely be noticeable if you were wearing a skin-tight shirt so you opted for one of Joe’s hoodies since they were super baggy on you. You read online that most women won’t show until their 8th or 10th week, but first pregnancies are different and you can show pretty early on which you thought was your case. 

Joe ordered you soup again for lunch which was just as delicious as yesterday’s, and now you were sitting on the couch trying to work on your surprise for Joe when he got home which was in about 20 minutes or so. 

You had found the sweatshirt he gave you–his Louisianimals one–and placed the two pregnancy tests in the middle of the sweatshirt and folded it inward so that he would see it when he opened it. You then placed it inside of a gift bag and hid it on the side of the couch. 

You opened up Mario Kart and made it to the profile screen, contemplating on how you should go about this. There was no general ‘baby’ character, but there was a ‘Baby Mario’ and ‘Baby Peach’ and since you didn’t know if you were having a boy or girl, this was perfect. You made one profile ‘Baby Mario’ and named it “Baby”. Then, you made a second profile ‘Baby Peach’ and named it “Burrow”. Side by side they both read out “Baby Burrow” with the two baby characters. 

“Hopefully this doesn’t make him think it’s twins,” you chuckle as you stare at the screen. 

You hear the garage open, thanking god that this time you heard Joe come home otherwise the surprise would have been ruined. You quickly close up the game, switch the TV back to its normal screen, and then take a few breaths to ease up before he comes inside. 

You watch him stroll inside, humming whatever song he was listening to in the car. He places his practice bag on the kitchen island before walking over to you on the couch. This time he was in sweats and a hoodie, meaning he took a shower before he left. 

“Hey Y/N,” he said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Hey, Babe. How was practice?” you smiled as you tried to contain your anticipation and excitement at what was about to happen.   

“Really good,” he nodded before walking back over to the kitchen to grab water and some juice for you. “How are you feeling? I didn’t get any break time to check in on you,”.

“I’m good,” you said to him. “I felt a bit sick after my light workout but that’s about it,” you say, downplaying it because you didn’t want him to get worried again especially since the real reason for it is much sweeter than a stomach bug. 

“You need any meds or anything?” he asks from the kitchen as he pours you a glass of pomegranate juice.

“No, I think I’m good for now,” you say as you play with the rings on your finger, you wanted him to hurry up so that you could tell him the big news as you were struggling to contain yourself. 

He walks over with his water and your juice, handing you the glass before sitting down next to you and draping part of your blanket over him. “Thank you,” you say as you take a sip of the juice. 

“Of course. My mom said pomegranate juice is the way to go with stomach bugs,” he said as he took a gulp of his water. 

It’s also the perfect juice for pregnant women since it’s incredibly nuteritous and provides a lot of vitamins and antioxidants for you and the baby, but Joe didn’t know that.

“Something about Vitamins and Antioxidants,” he adds. 

“Ohh, I know,” you smile, acting incredibly suspicious. 

He looks at you, slightly confused at what you meant, but not bothering to dig at it. “So, what do you want to do this afternoon? I’m free the rest of the day so we can do whatever, nap, watch a movie…”.

“Mario Kart?” you ask, trying really hard to not give it away with your eyes and smile.

“Again? Even after you got your ass kicked last night?” he laughed.

“Listen, it was 1 bad cup! I’ve won many more than you can even count,” you whine. 

“Okayyy,” he said as he placed his water down on the coffee table and grabbed the controllers. “If you say so but I better not get any sore loser talk if you lose again,” he joked.

“Deal,” you grin as you feel butterflies in your stomach while watching him turn on the Switch and load up the game.

“Here we go,” you think to yourself as you move the blanket off so you can easily grab the bag from the side of the couch where you hid it when you needed to. 

The Switch turns on and Joe clicks the Mario Kart icon, passing you a controller before moving back into the couch and getting comfortable. The screen switches to the welcome screen and he clicks the play button, the screen now on the profile’s menu. 

You feel the world stop, your heart stop, and your breath stop as you turn your face to Joe’s, carefully examining his expression.

You see him pause at the screen, his brows furrowing at the two new profiles on the menu and reading them over while looking at the icons above them. 

“Baby…Burrow?” he muttered under his breath.

You notice the exact moment when he realizes what that means, his mouth slightly falling open as he turns his head over at you. You give him a smile before reaching for the bag you hid, pulling it up, and placing it in his lap.

“What–,” he begins to say before you interrupt him.

“Open this first,” you say as you nod to the bag you placed in front of him. 

Joe quickly reaches into the bag and pulls out the hoodie, looking incredibly confused at why you were giving it to him. “Why are you giving me a sweatshirt?”.

“Open it,” you say as you place your hand on his knee. Tears started to form in your eyes as you watched him open up the sweatshirt, the 2 positive tests resting right in the middle of the logo on the hoodie. He picks them up and brings them close to his face, his eyes softening at what he was looking at and a smile forming on his face. 

“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked as he looked over at you; his eyes were so incredibly delicate and glossy, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. “You’re pregnant?”. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, the tears now falling from your cheeks and down onto the couch. “Surprise,” you said in between tears.

“Oh my god,” he said as he looked back down at the tests before placing everything to the side and pulling you into him. “Holy shit,” he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his tears falling down and onto your shirt. 

“I can’t believe it,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “We’re having a baby,” he laughed in between the tears. Joe felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest because of the news. He was going to be a dad, for real. And the most incredible woman he had ever met was about to be a mother. 

“Are you happy?” you asked him, your tears falling even harder now.

He lifted his head and met your eyes, “I’m fucking amazing,” he said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “We’re going to be parents. You’re having our baby,” he said as he pressed a few more kisses to your lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,”. 

“I love you,” you sniffle as you meet his eyes again, his eyes filled with a love that you’ve never seen before. Love for both of you, you and the baby. 

“I love you so so much,” he said as he pressed more kisses around your face before releasing you from his arms. 

He looked down at your belly and then looked up at your eyes again, you knew exactly what he was waiting for. You lifted your sweatshirt up, his eyes landing on your small bump. 

“Oh my god,” he whispered as he reached out to touch your bump, but froze before his hand could lay on it. You saw his hesitation and took his hand and placed it on your bump, resting your hand on top of his.

“That’s our baby?” he said as he looked back up at you, your eyes twinkling and sparkling. 

“That’s our baby,” you nod as you wipe your tears with your other hand. 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your belly, your heart swelling at the adorable interaction. 

“Hey little Tiger,” he said to your belly. “I know you can’t hear me yet, but it’s Daddy,” he said as he looked up at you again, a huge smile on your face. “I love you so much, Baby Burrow. Me and Mommy can’t wait to see you,” he said before pressing another kiss to your stomach and moving back up to you.

“This doesn’t feel real,” he said as he wiped his face before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed.

“When did you find out?” he asked as he looked at the tests again. 

“Yesterday,” you said as you wiped your eyes again. 

“So then the throwing up, tiredness, sore boobs, taste changes, and cravings are all..”.

“Pregnancy Symptoms,” you say as you nod your head. 

“Damn,” he whispered. “I guess my Mama Bear antics were not helping since it isn’t a stomach bug,”.

“I guess not. But I love Mama Bear Joe and her antics and wouldn’t trade her for the world,” you grin.

“I’ll remember that because it’s about to get a whole lot worse for the next 9 months,” he laughed. 

“I’m...No. We're prepared,” you say as you lean in for another kiss, this one a little longer than the others as you two enjoy each other's warmth. 

“That was pretty clever by the way,” he said as he pulled away and pointed to the menu. 

“You like it?” you ask as you bite your lip. 

“Oh hell yeah. It’s a great callback to how it all started. Mario and Peach, but now with a Baby Mario or Baby Peach on the way,” he said as he recalled that afternoon in his apartment. “The sweatshirt I gave you too. You really thought it all out,”. 

“I’m really glad you liked it,” you say as you feel more tears forming in your eyes. “And I’m so glad you’re happy,”.

He stared into your eyes for a few moments before carefully moving you closer to him so that you were in his lap. “I’m beyond happy, Y/N. I can’t wait to do this with you. I love you and our baby more than anything in the world,”. 

“We love you too,” you smile as you drop your head to his shoulder, feeling his hand rub your back.

“In 9 months we’re going to have our own child running around,” he said, the thought still feels surreal. 

“Well, I’d give it more time before little Tiger starts running around,” you laugh. 

“Little Tiger has my genetics so we shall see about that one,” he smiled.

“I’m going to make sure that you don’t order any foam baby footballs,” you say as you pull your head out of his shoulder. 

“Hey, I gotta teach them young so that by the time they’re 7 or 8 they have that future QB arm and love for football,” he said, slightly offended at your hesitation. 

“We shall see about that one,” you say as you echo his words back to him. “No doubt about the love for football, but we’ll see about the future QB arm. Besides, what if we have a girl?”.

“Well, if we have a girl they have girl's flag football and I wouldn’t mind being an advocate for a girl's football team at whatever school Baby Burrow goes to,”. ���Oh my god, we sound like parents,” he said as he rolled his eyes.

“I mean, we’re almost there,” you giggled as you moved his hair out of his eyes. 

“Yeah, but we have 9 months. No need to get all parenty yet,” he said as he kissed a trail along your jawline and gripped your waist. “We’re still basically horny newlyweds since it’s only been a year and a half,”.

“Joe!” you shrieked, appalled at the words that came out of his mouth. 

“Hey,” he said in defense of himself. “It’s true though. And I’m pretty sure you can have Sex while pregnant so we should be fine,”. 

You drop your head back down to his shoulder before you both break out into a fit of laughter. “This is going to be an interesting 9 months,” you said. 

“You can count on it,” he said as he rubbed the back of your head. “We’re going to have a lot of interesting firsts too,”.

“Mhm,” you nod. “First OBGYN appointment, first ultrasound, first heartbeat, first kick, first time baby clothes shopping, first time decorating a nursery, first time telling friends and family,”. 

“God, I can’t wait,” he smiled.

“Me either. This is a dream,” you said as you pressed yourself closer to him. 

“You are a dream, all of this is possible because of you,” he said. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest which made you want to cry again, he was truly happy. 

“It’s only possible because I have someone like you with me,” you said as you kissed his shoulder. Joe was the best boyfriend, best fiancee, best husband, and now was going to be the best father. He was incredible. 

“We’re going to be amazing parents, I know it,” he said as he thought about the next 9 months and then the many years after you would go through together as parents.

“Mmm, I can’t wait,” you squeal.

“I love you, Y/N, this was the sweetest surprise,” he said before he pressed a kiss to your forehead, both of you melting into each other’s embrace as you started to think about what the future was going to look like as a family of 3.

–The End–

[mas-o-kissed]

(Mind control, dubious consent, public)

You receive an invitation to a party from an unknown sender. It’s strange, but you’re intrigued enough that you decide to attend.

The party is in a huge house, and you recognize a few of the other guests— acquaintances and coworkers you don’t know very well. After an hour of music, food, and curious chatter, the host of the party finally reveals himself: he is tall, mysterious, beautiful. But something about him feels off. He seems unnatural somehow.

You observe him, moving about the party, mingling with the guests, but after a short while you notice something strange. Each time he talks to someone, they seem to get much more comfortable. Too comfortable. Their faces flush. They seem unsteady on their feet. It’s like they’re getting drunk just by talking to him, but it’s not just that. One by one, the other guests seem to be unable to keep their hands off each other.

It dawns on you quickly. The host is a demon of lust. As he talks to the guests, he lowers their inhibitions. Makes them horny. Makes them desperate.

And the display is getting out of hand. You see your usually shy coworker on his knees in the living room, nuzzling into a stranger’s bulge. A woman you met briefly through a group of friends who seemed quite modest at the time is pulling off her clothes, a trance-like expression on her face.

“Hey, cutie~” it’s a guy you remember from some college courses you took years ago. He almost stumbles into you, a pink liquor sloshing in the glass in his hand. “Lissten,” he slurs, not noticing your trepidation, “I always thought you were soooo smart.” He’s playing with your collar, “it would really turn me on to see you get dumb for me.”

You brush him away, waving a hand in front of his eyes. He only gazes back at you placidly as you whisper-shout to avoid getting the demon’s attention, “The host is doing something to us. Wake up!”

“You wanna sip, cutie?” He pushes the drink in your face. Just the sweet, strong smell of it makes your head spin.

When you blink through the fog, you look up and see that the host is looking at you. He winks.

“Where ya going, sweetie?” The man with the drink calls after you as you head for the exit.

You can feel the host’s eyes on you. Moving closer. You reach for the door. Locked, of course. You look around for help, but all around you the other guests are trapped in their own dreams. Kissing, and rubbing, biting and hurting one another. All in the name of pleasure.

“Are you enjoying the party?” A deep voice behind you. How did he sneak up on you so fast?

You look up at him, your stomach dropping, face getting red. “What are you doing to us?”

“Just having a little fun.” He grins. His teeth are sharp, “There isn’t a single human here who doesn’t need this. You, especially.” He cradles your chin in his fingers. You feel your head getting light. Fuck, he’s got you.

You fight the fog, the arousal flowing through you, “Will I remember this?”

“Oh darling, everyone will.”

“Please. I don’t want to… embarrass myself.”

He laughs, “Oh, you poor thing.” The arousal is starting to cloud your thoughts. You feel it taking you over.

You try to protest again but all that comes out of your mouth is a hitched moan.

“You won’t be able to help but embarrass yourself, baby. That’s why I chose you. It’s just so much fun to watch.”

When did you drop to your knees? When did he put this collar around your throat?

“Now go ahead. Embarrass yourself for me.”

[shijiujun]

A Summary: The Spirealm | 致命游戏 (Kaleidoscope of Death 死亡万花筒 Live Action) & Why You Should (Eventually) Watch It

Talk about the most short-lived drama release ever, not even totalling two hours if I recall. Creating this summary as I've seen a handful of confused friends, so here it goes!

It's going to be a long review because I sped through all 78 episodes and only properly watched the first two doors, but I got you. You'll get both the brief book rundown and the drama parts!

If you just wanna see the bromance (LOVE) parts please skip to section 4!!!!

1. Overview

Title: The Spirealm (kinda awful I'm sorry it's a mouthful) or 致命游戏 which means fatal game

Adapted From: Danmei (BL) Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu

Novel Prints: There are GORGEOUS Thai, Vietnamese, Simplified and Traditional Chinese versions printed, AND Singapore publisher Rosmei has signed the license for the ENGLISH version, probably going on sale this year (preview is here). You can still access fan translations by Taida on I think wordpress and someone else on Tumblr sorry bad memory (they did half and half each) if you'd like to read it for context. It is one of my FAVE danmeis EVER and I am a die-hard OG book fan, check out my full danmei review here.

Total Episodes: 78 (20 minutes each with the exception of last episode which 10 minutes, with several BTS not that I think we will get to see all of them yet)

Where to Watch (LOL): Erm considering that iQIYI China AND International took the episodes down, there is no legal way to watch this, BUT thanks to some cnetz with super fast and great wifi, we managed to get ripped HD versions without subs. iQIYI is very hard on copyright though, they've taken down several subbed and unsubbed versions already on YouTube, but you should type the titles of show into Twitter and the top tags will tell you where to access the raws and very little subbed episodes, that may also be taken down at any point. I have the Chinese raws but as it's hosted on a cloud, I had to pay to access it.

Main Characters: Lin Qiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the novel) and Ling Jiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the drama)

Produced By: iQIYI so for SURE they won't film it fully BL even if the original is, but I've seen enough bromance cuts

Main Actors: Xia Zhiguang (Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie) + Huang Junjie (Ling Jiushi)

2. Summary

Book (drama follows closely if not removing the supernatural premises): Lin Qiushi, a designer, opens the door to his home one day from inside and sees 12 iron doors outside. Confused, he opens one of them and arrives at a snow covered village in the mid of winter, and meets Ruan Baijie, who's a pretty, unusually tall and whiny/timid woman. They realise that they're in a horrifying door game, and they'll have to find a door and a key to get out, while battling a long-haired, human-eating deity. They, along with a few others, have to survive day after day until they get out, and on the first night, two people have died in gory ways. Ruan Baijie and Lin Qiushi partner each other, and despite seemingly timid and crying all the time, she saves Lin Qiushi a few times mysteriously, and Lin Qiushi finds himself trusting in Ruan Baijie.

They get through the door together and when they leave successfully, Lin Qiushi realizes that the people who died in the door will die in real life by some freak accident too - car accidents, forced suicides, a robbery gone wrong, a lift trapped in the air and going ablaze, and more. That night, Lin Qiushi wakes up to see a super handsome and tall Ruan Nanzhu at his bedside and this man feels familiar to him, but he can't put a finger on it. All he can think of when Ruan Nanzhu says his name is Ruan Baijie (ahem he would later find out who it is of course). Ruan Nanzhu takes him to his mansion in the suburbs where he meets a group of other people just like them, who're forced to go through the doors for survival. Ruan Nanzhu then invites him to join Obsidian, his organization.

Through various doors, Lin Qiushi grows and supports a super intelligent and powerful Ruan Nanzhu, falls in love with him, gets through many many scary doors with him and some of their other team members, makes friends, loses them to the cruelty of the doors as they ponder over what the door means, and what being alive/dying means.

And at the end of it, at the end of of it all, when they're all good and living their life, Lin Qiushi also finds out what Ruan Nanzhu's secret is, and the lengths to which Ruan Nanzhu went to, just to be with him.

Drama: Ling Jiushi is a VR game designer who gets pulled into a game, and he meets Ruan Baijie (in his male form) right off the bat (SO NOT CROSSDRESSING I AM SAD). All the parts are actually the same as the novel, albeit with the game setting and Ling Jiushi and Ruan Nanzhu's identity adjustments to suit the game premise. Most of the other doors and their lines are the same, just that the ending is a bit more confusing than it could be. There's a big bad as well and they actually show the opposing organizations when in the novel, these other organizations aside from Obsidian didn't even actually have a face or goal to them.

3. Characters

^ Them in the book (based on manhua that never got to go live LOL) (RNZ/RBJ left, LQS right)

^ Them in the show (LJS left, RNZ right)

Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie: MY HANDSOME CROSSDRESSING INTELLIGENT ALOOF BUT WHINY (WHEN IT COMES TO LIN QIUSHI) SASSY BOSS!!!! He's super mysterious and super thick-skinned too, and all he wants is Lin Qiushi's attention the moment he meets him. He's intrigued by Lin Qiushi's calm and his brains and the way he handles things, and has a lot of trust for him right from the get-go. This is also shown in the drama itself. As the leader of Obsidian, he cares a lot for his team members and his friends even if he doesn't show it most of the time, and the last thing he wants to do is lose Lin Qiushi, and he would do ANYTHING for Lin Qiushi, ANYTHING!!! Just look at him whining:

Ling Jiushi (Lin Qiushi): In the novel he's super calm, has quite a lot of brains, a little bit of a blur in the beginning but he's super smart as well. Worries a lot for Ruan Nanzhu and is also a loyal friend to some of his only friends, and feels a lot when he loses them. Falls gradually in love with Ruan Nanzhu in the novel, like they just belong together. In this drama, Ling Jiushi holds that same trust for Ruan Nanzhu, but in demeanour he seems a bit more like a klutz and and not as cool as he was in the novel, but I guess it's acceptable. Literally like the only thing he loves more than RNZ (maybe) is his cat Chestnut LOL and RNZ is NOT really happy about that but Chestnut LOVES RNZ

Yixie and Qianli: CUTEST TWINS ;-; WHO TREAT RNZ and LQS as their big brothers LOOK AT THEM BOWING AND RNZ/LJS like parents LMAO

A handful of other characters who will keep turning up and get your hearts ;-;

4. ALL FAVE BROMANCE MOMENTS + TROPES

THEY TOUCH EACH OTHER A LOT LIKE HOLDING HANDS AND TOUCHING FACES, PIGGY BACKING?!?! DID I MENTION FACE TOUCHING

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP THEY HELP EACH OTHER WHEN HURT OR GET HURT FOR EACH OTHER

AND WHEN THEY WAKE UP IN BED THE OTHER IS AT THEIR BEDSIDE

AND DID I MENTION HE FEEDS HIM IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

AND THAT THEY DATED UNDER THE FIREWORKS LIKE THE NOVEL DOES NOT EVEN HAVE THIS SHIT

AND THE KABEDONS

AND FINALLY RUAN NANZHU RIZZ OMG

5. Settings

They REALLY OUTDID THEMSELVES. THIS JUST FROM DOORS 1-6:

THEY LOOK EXACTLY LIKE THE NOVEL DESCRIBED!!!!

6. Overall Thoughts

PROS: This was NOT a cheap production, I'm telling you, they followed the cases very well and there're a lot of super recognisable lines, if not ALL of them, even if they changed the cases a little. I think they did it because in the novel originally, the author DOES leave a lot of details hanging like someone dies and you know he had a background and there are some shady things happening but the author NEVER actually goes into detail. So the drama did their best to cover these loopholes, even if it felt a little awkward at times. Money went into settings and attires and every damn thing, this looks EXPENSIVE. And if you've ever imagined each door and the bosses inside in your head, you might have felt chills go down your spine because damn did they really colour the book's settings for me (despite its differences). DID I MENTION that Xia Zhiguang really got the damn memo and he was a passable Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie who knew how to turn on his BL eyes. PLUS they really did some of the character deaths really well - they're technically some of the biggest parts of this story so ;-; (not two main of course)

CONS (maybe): They did away with the supernatural/horror premise and replaced it with a GAME premise, which means that there's a scientific element to it and the try to explain away stuff with the game, including the ending. I don't 100% get the ending, but the feel/vibe is about the same. Might not be for hardcore reader fans tho! They skipped out on a couple of doors, some of which were my faves, but it's fine, it's long enough LOL. They give away/explain some of the clues and surprises super early which means you don't get that added boom at the back as well. Despite that, I have to say they tried to round up the loopholes from the book as much as they could and give it an explanation while tying elements/conspiracies across doors (probably also to save cast fees LOL). And as always it's not a solid ending, it's an open confusing one, and even more confusing than the book itself because THERE IS NO CERTAIN HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH HUBBY for it (there is in the book tho, they live together happily every after). Secondl,y, I'd say HJJ's acting is a bit stiff and OOC compared to the novel, but Xia Zhiguang really made up for it.

-------

HOPE THIS HELPS YOU GUYS!!! But I guess if you need subs it's going to be a long LONGGGG ride, considering that iQIYI doesn't seem to be going to be able to put it up anytime soon CRIES.

[rafeysafterglow]

silver springs

pairing: rafe cameron x ex!reader summary: 5 times reader haunting rafe’s narrative (+1 when he finally moves on) warnings: angst, no happy ending, suggestive, mentions of depression, rafe x sofia in the end, paragraphs in italics indicate flashbacks a/n: my first 5+1 fic :p this is my fave work yet so pls don’t let this flop 😓 lowq hate the subtitles but oh well

1. the morning after

rafe opened his eyes, finding himself in the same position as last night, where you left him. his head pounding, body heavy, eyes bloodshot, he looks around his living room. the couch he unknowingly slept on caused his back to ache.

the whole room was a mess, bottles littered the floor, the air stank of weed and piss, and lamps knocked over. last night was another typical night for him, hosting a party while ward and rose was away. his eyes trained on the clock, noting that they would be back home soon. but that’s the least of rafe’s worries.

last night, you broke things off with him, which came as a great surprise to him. he tried the best of his abilities to recall exactly what you said, despite all the alcohol and coke clouding his mind.

“it just isn’t working out, rafe. i think we should break up.”

at first, he didn’t think you were being serious. for him, he had been having a really fun time with you. turns out, the feeling wasn’t mutual at all. for him, he really thought you and him could go somewhere, farther in a relationship than he had ever gone. this realization terrified him, but throughout the months of pure bliss that was the relationship, he learned to accept it. oh, how sideways things would go.

rafe remains lying on the couch, unable to move his body. he felt your absence intensely, mainly because, you used to be the person who helps him get back into shape after a hard night.

he felt your hand graze across his face, your warm and delicate fingers contrasting to his cold cheeks. although his eyes was still closed, he could feel how close you were, your scent invading his space, your breath caressing him.

“rafe. rafe, baby, wake up,” you whispered, gently nudging him. his eyes opened, confusion evident in his expression, before calming down after realizing it was you. “here, drink this water, baby.”

he took the glass of water from your hands before sitting up and drinking it. you took the now vacant spot next to him, your palm roaming around his back, your face pressed against his bicep.

rafe downed the water in seconds, droplets coating his lips. you tilted your head up towards him, catching the beads of ice water with your lips before pecking him. before you could pull away, though, he grabs the back of your head before smashing his lips against yours, making his way down your throat, and nestling his face into the crook of your neck.

he was always like this whenever he was hangover, clingy and needy. you tried to ignore the fact he was ever only like this when he isn’t himself. you two stayed like that until the cleaners arrived.

rafe plays that memory in his head, still in denial that you are no longer part of his life. no one will ever tend to him during a hangover anymore, a reality he needed to accept, fast.

2. the post-breakup

it’s been a few days since you left him. he hasn’t been able to get you off of his head. every minute, every second, he sees you, just a figment of his imagination. he has tried, many times, to reach out, but he held himself back each time, fearing that it’ll make things worse.

he’s been moving as if he does’t exist anymore. days pass, he wakes up, eats, showers, and goes back into deep slumber. his movements doesn’t register in his mind, he works like a wind-up toy, his consciousness far away.

sometimes, if he has a short window of awareness, he would acknowledge his depression-like ways, but then your face flashes across his mind, and the process repeats.

truth be told, this breakup hits him harder than he expected. the thing he hates most is that he had no explanation from you. just a short “we’re done, rafe.” he thought you were happy because, hell, he was. he really was happy with you. happiest he’s ever been. and he knows it’s because of you.

your kindness, gentleness, and tenderness touched him right in his heart. you showed him warmth and affection when no one in his life had.

no one comes to check on him. he has burned too many bridges with the people he cares most.

the day he breaks the pattern is the day you text him. he was lying on his bed, as per usual, when his phone chimes. he didn’t even hear it, before a second one comes in. he grabs his phone without changing position.

hey, rafe.

can i come over? i wanna get my stuff.

he stares at the message, words blurring together. after a minute to digest things, he slowly got up and scoured around his rooms for your things.

your hoodies, which you kept here in case you wanted to stay over. your skincare routine, which is stored in small travel containers. your charger, which you brought here because you two kept arguing over his. your glitter tumbler, which you call your “comfort water bottle” and bring it everywhere you go. and many more.

he gathers them all, ignoring the strain on his heart whenever he finds another item of yours. he shoves them all into a box, not even glancing long enough to register what it was. that is until he comes across the one thing he wanted to forget. your blanket.

the door clicks open, signaling that rafe was home. you were snugged in between a mountain of pillows on the sofa, tv already on and hamilton filling the screen.

rafe’s heart skips a beat at the sight. you, making yourself at home at his house. this is what he’s been yearning for all his life. somebody he could come home to. somebody for him to love and love him back.

“rafe! you’re finally home! i didn’t wanna fall asleep before saying goodnight to you,” you squealed, arms opening to invite him in. he immediately drops everything in his hands and joins you on the couch, your arms embracing him. after a long hard day, this is what he needed.

you and rafe curled up together, underneath a thick patchwork blanket, one he’s sure he’s never seen before. “this new?” he asks you, face buried into your hair.

“oh! i completely forgot! i made this, look! i sewed our old clothes that no longer fit together. see, this is your old varsity jacket,” you say, pointing to the logo, “this is my old onesie i used to wear a lot when i was a baby,” your finger moved upwards towards a soft-pink fuzzy square.

he swears, his heart couldn’t take much anymore, he felt like he was going to explode from your sweetness. what did he do to deserve somebody as caring and attentive as you? whatever god he prayed to, he would be doing a lot of thanking in his lifetime.

you continued to point out and mention every single square of the patchwork, not noticing how rafe was admiring you, barely listening. “i love it, i love it a lot,” he whispers, afraid that if he spoke one more word, his throat would constrict.

you two spent the night coddled up, the tv in the background softly buzzing, with your voice humming along to hamilton.

rafe wishes more than anything to erase that memory. no, what he wishes most is to hate you, to resent you. but, how could he? if only he could only recall the worst parts of you. then, maybe this grieving process could progress even faster.

he shoves the blanket roughly into the box before carrying down the stairs and dropping it on his front porch, not giving it a second thought. he would rather die than see your face again.

3. the accidental encounter

there comes a time after a separation that you, inevitably, run into your ex. rafe has spent the last month sulking around his house, only going out to places he’s sure you would never go to. this day, though, he was forced by topper and kelce to join them at a bonfire.

reluctantly, he agreed. frankly, he was tired of being a miserable loser who mopes over a girl.

he sits on top of a hill, drink in hand, already half empty. staring down at all the people mingling, he wishes he was one of them. even with the deafening music, blinding fire, and pungent smell of sweat and alcohol, he still couldn’t take his mind off of you. what were you doing right this moment? were you thinking of him, like he was with you?

he took a giant swig of his drink before his eyes landing on somebody in the crowd. you. it seems like his body instantly knows where you are.

god, you look amazing, blissfully unaffected by the absence of him in your life — a complete contrast to him. he hated how happy you looked, how only he was suffering from the aftermath and you continued living your life normally.

as if you could sense rafe’s gaze, your head turned towards him, your eyes meeting his straight away. your eyes widen just a little, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that you’re affected by his nearness.

quickly turning your head back, you nod your head along to whatever your friend was babbling on about. you tried your hardest to refrain from facing him again, to see how he was doing, to apologize to him with your eyes.

you could still feel his eyes on you, which makes you wonder what he was thinking about. little did you know, he was reflecting on the night he introduced you to his friends for the first time, on this exact beach.

rafe’s arms thrown over your back, he lead you towards his group of friends. no amount of debating or protesting from you could keep him from making his way across the bonfire, winding through the crowd.

topper, kelce, and a few other people who often mingled with them, sat around on tree stumps, in a circle around a small fire. “yo! rafe! where the hell have ya’ been man?” topper called out, raising his beer bottle in greeting.

you and rafe stopped nearby the group, your side pressed against his. the cool air breeze blew in between your coat, making you shiver. that, and the anxiety coursing through your body. “yo, guys, i wanna introduce you to my girl. we’ve been dating for a while,” rafe declared, definitively.

he nudged you lightly, which causes you to wave and introduce yourself with a slight smile. the whole group all said their hi’s simultaneously, with no sign of disdain, which you — secretly — expected.

rafe sat down at the only available space, in between kelce and a girl you’ve never seen before, pulling you down and placing you on his lap, not caring how others gave you the stink eye. the girl beside you started chatting it up with you, jabbering on about ‘girly things,’ rafe claimed.

as the conversation carried on, rafe couldn’t help but hold on to your waist tighter, feeling unreasonably content with how easily you integrated into his friend group, how comfortably you fit into his life.

by the time the reminiscing ends, rafe’s bottle is empty, telling him it’s time to leave. he bids top and kelc goodbye, ignoring the complaints spilling out of their mouths. he trudges through the sand, leaving everything behind him, you and the memories that haunt him.

but, it seems that fate has it out for him, because as he walks out at the same time as you. “rafe,” you call out, your face regretful.

he stops, mid-step. he debates whether to completely ignore you and walk away, or to hear you out. as much as he wants to do nothing but hurt you the way you hurt him, he chooses the latter.

“you look good,” you comment, your eyes going down his figure. he was sporting his typical asshole rafe facade, which, strangely, made you miss him more.

“yeah, yeah, uh… ya’ look good too,” he slurs his words, feet swaying a little. before you could voice out your worry, he opens his mouth, “look, uh… i gotta go. yeah, see ya’.” he raises his arm in goodbye, and stumbles down the hill.

you stare at him for a little while longer, trying to swallow the feeling that he was itching to get away from you.

4. the first date

after the unfortunate meet-up, rafe decides enough is enough. he’s rafe fucking cameron. he doesn’t get hung up over a girl, he moves on to another one. any girl on the island would be more than willing, at least, that’s what topper told him. but, he decided to finally give the bartender from the club, who has been making heart eyes at him, a chance.

sofia hasn’t been able to stop giggling since they arrived to the restaurant, and it’s getting on rafe’s last nerves. she’s practically jumping on her seat, hair twirling, and subtle leg grazes underneath the table that she thinks is turning him on.

coincidentally, he chose the exact same restaurant you and him went to for your first date. or, maybe, his subconscious chose it. in his defence, the food was good and he enjoyed the overall experience. he didn’t think that it was because of the company he had.

the waiter takes the orders and sofia opts for the salmon. oh hell, what are the chances she would pick the exact same think as you did? rafe stares at sofia, his mind away, before snapping back to reality as the waiter calls on him.

after the waiter leaves, sofia wastes no time before starting a conversation. she drones on about some nonsense that you couldn’t pay to make rafe care, as he’s distracted by the intrusive thoughts of you.

“rafe! you didn’t tell me we were going to somewhere fancy! i would’ve dressed better,” you berated him, following him towards your table.

“stop, ya’ look perfect as is,” he whispered into your ear and kissed your neck before pulling out your chair. you sat down as you wondered about how this is the rafe cameron your friends warned you about.

you both ordered — salmon for you and steak for him — before settling into a comfortable conversation. he asked you some basic questions about yourself, and you answer as truthfully as you can.

by the fifth question, you grew tired of the one-sided questions. “what is this? some sort of interview? why can’t i ask you something?” you teased.

“okay, go on, ask me something then,” he smiled against the glass of his drink, “but i thought ya’ already knew everything about me from the stalking ya’ did with your friends.”

your face burned with embarrassment, having been called out. you recalled the time you and your friends stalked his profile, and your friend, god bless her, accidentally liked his post from two years ago.

“yeah, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, sheepishly. you looked around the room, trying to think of a question that would throw him off. “do you prefer cats or dogs?” you asked, not able to think of a better question.

“that’s your question? do i prefer cats or dogs?” he mocked, “oh, that’s too personal for me, sorry. ya’ stepped over the line.”

“hey! it’s an important thing to ask someone! for me, it’s a deal breaker,” you whispered.

“it’s a deal breaker, huh? well, i better answer this right,” he pretended to think for a moment, “cats. i prefer cats.”

“oh. good job, cameron. you answered correctly,” you tried your hardest not to seem that affected by him, you didn’t want to feed into his already-too-big ego.

the food came, you two ate while continuing taking turns asking each other questions, and after rafe payed and a quick make-out session in his car, he dropped you off in front of your door.

“so, is a second date in the cards for me?” he smirked, thumb caressing your cheek.

“hm. i guess you passed, cameron. today wasn’t half bad,” you tip-toed and pecked him on the lips.

“rafe? you okay?” sofia questions, fingers snapping in front of his face, gaining his attention and pulling him out of his daydream.

“yeah, uh, i’m okay,” he nods. even on a date with another girl, he still cannot get rid of you. he curses you in his mind, willing his best to listen to sofia.

5. the anniversary

sofia and rafe has been dating for over a month, and for sofia, it has been the best month of her life. for rafe, he feels like he failed — having a girl nearby only enlarges the void of you. everything sofia does, he can’t help but compare it to you.

on the count of it being a month of dating, sofia insists on celebrating the milestone. rafe didn’t even know a month was worth commemorating, but sofia was all giddy, he couldn’t help but feel bad.

sofia planned the whole day, starting first with gifts. as always with everything in his life, rafe didn’t give it much thought. he just bought the first thing he saw when browsing through her — your — favourite boutique. after he handed her the sloppily wrapped gift, she quickly ripped apart the paper before squealing with joy, which surprised rafe with how the windows in his house didn’t break.

now it was her turn, and the effort couldn’t be more different than rafe’s. the box is wrapped in a blue and green polka dot pattern, adorned with a white bow. rafe slowly pulls the bowtie undone, while sofia restlessly couldn’t contain her excitement beside him.

he looks inside, and it’s a heart keychain. he picks it up, and that’s when he sees the writing engraved on the surface.

rafe + sofia 4ever

even before rafe could react, sofia shrieks and wraps her arms around his neck, which catches him by surprise. “don’t you love it? you could attach it to your bike keys and be reminded of me forever!” she peppers kisses all over his face.

but rafe can’t seem to reciprocate the gesture because he’s transported back to the time he celebrated his six month anniversary with you.

“okay, okay, my turn now!” you clapped your hands in excitement, having been impatient for the past week. not to toot your own horn, but what you got him is probably the best gift you’ve ever given anybody. and it most definitely tops rafe’s gift.

you hid the gift as best as you could, which was hard, given that it was half the size of you. you forced rafe to put on a blindfold, which he told you he had never had to do his whole life, and to sit patiently.

you dragged the gift, painstakingly, all by yourself and set it in front of him. at first, you wanted to wrap it, but the gift spoke for itself — and it would take a whole village to wrap it.

“okay! open your eyes!” you bounced on your feet, waiting anxiously for rafe’s reaction. “tada!” you jazz-handed, failing miserably to hide your unease.

rafe just sat there, eyes wide and mouth agape. his eyes raked up and down, almost not believing what he was seeing.

in front of him stood a golf bag, complete with clubs.

finally, rafe broke his silence, “what. the. fuck.” he stood up and ran to you, picking you up effortlessly and spinning you around. you giggled as he showered you with kisses.

“i take it you like my gift?” you grinned once he set you down.

“you’re kidding, right? i love it!” he kissed you again, this time harder on the lips. once you two separated, he touched your foreheads together, his hands stabilizing the back of your neck. he whispered something against your lips which made your heart stop, “i love you.”

this was the first time any of you said those three words, but right now feels right. “i love you, too.” how could you not? “wait, wait, before i forget. there’s still more.”

“more?! what did i do to deserve you,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

you picked up a specific golf stick, angling the club head towards him. there, on the metal surface, was your name engraved in cursive.

rafe said nothing, which made you doubt whether this was too far or not. but then, “i think i’m gonna have a heart attack.”

you laugh at his ridiculousness, shoving him lightly. he pulled your arm and tugged you into your chest. “this is so perfect. you’re so perfect,” he kissed into your hair.

+1 the moving on

it’s been slightly over a year since sofia and rafe started dating. slowly but surely, he got over you. he no longer thinks of you whenever sofia does, well, literally anything.

he no longer thinks of you when she brings him a cup of water when he’s hangover. he no longer thinks of you when the two of them cuddle up to watch a movie together. he no longer thinks of you when he passes by that one specific restaurant. in short, he’s fallen deep in love with sofia that it pushes all the memories of you out.

it wasn’t always that simple though. when they hit the three month mark, sofia sensed that rafe wasn’t into her as much as she was into him. so, she broke it off. but, rafe found himself missing her, realizing that she mended his broken heart. he groveled, begged, for her forgiveness. in the end, the only thing that would win her back is opening up to her.

eventually, rafe confided in her, about you, and about how deeply affected he was by how the whole thing went down. sofia saw how hard it was for rafe to share all of this, and it warmed her heart how he trusted her, and she forgave him.

and as toxic as it seems, that was a sign for rafe that it’s time for the next step. any other woman would run at the mention of an ex, but sofia stayed, and listened. all his friends were encouraging him, having seen how sofia makes him happy.

so, that’s why he found himself on the beach, at sunset, down on one knee, proposing. with little to no hesitation, sofia jumped into rafe’s arms, nearly causing him to stumble, and repeated, “yes! yes! a million times yes!”

little did they both know, you were nearby, watching them. your heart ached, seeing how rafe moved on, yet you haven’t. it seems selfish, you acknowledged it, but a part of you wished he never got over you. because you never did.

when sofia is busy showing off her new rock to her friends, you took the time to go to rafe. to congratulate him, you told yourself. “hey rafe, congrats,” you say behind him, causing him to turn around.

if he was shocked by your appearance, he didn’t show it. “hey! uh, yeah, thanks,” he shrugs.

“listen rafe, i know i never told you why i broke it off, and i realize how fucked up that is. so, i wanted to let you know that-”

before you could explain yourself, he cut you off, “honestly, i don’t need to know. i’m gonna admit, yeah, i was pretty hung up over ya’ for a long time but, sofia helped me get over it. she’s been the light in my life despite how shit i acted at first,” he chuckles at the thought, “but, i’m truly happy now. and whatever reason ya’ might have, i don’t care for it.”

at that, he turns and runs over to sofia, surprising her by lifting her from behind. you stare at them, not knowing that a year earlier, rafe was a completely different person — a sad, miserable guy that wanted nothing but to have you back.

truth is, you ended it because, whether he realized it or not, whenever you two were on a date, you saw how his eyes would trail towards another woman. or, whenever you weren’t around, he would subtly flirt with other woman. he may not realize it, but you did, because you paid attention. towards the end, you came to terms with yourself that it was never going to change.

and, rafe will continue living his life with sofia without knowing why you ended things, meanwhile you have to suffer with the knowledge that the man you love changed for another woman, when you desperately wanted it to be for you.

[jasminumdew]

Rafayel (merman x siren reader)

Notes: This was written based on Rafayel’s rut which was presented in the Ebb and Flow card

Summary: You went out hunting to feed your sick merman lover, but he doesn’t seem to be hungry, at least not in that way.

Event host: this fic was written for Monster Mash Event, hosted by lovely @nanamiscocksleeve

Warnings: MDNI, gore, manslaughter, merman goes into rut, public sex

W/c: 1.2k

“Captain, we’re very close to that area now”

“Prepare the spears, net, every crew member gets to the harpoon gun now. We only get one chance, either we catch it or it’s the last day for all of us”

With the captain’s order, everyone quickly rushes to the ship's sides. All eyes were focused on the sudden movement of the waves, so no one paid attention to the piercing eyes locking on their backs. It’s not until the first note sang out that they realized their mistake. 

“Everyone, plug your ears. NOW!!” The captain's screams couldn’t reach their ears anymore, since it was filled with the most heavenly voice they’d ever heard. Can this be considered a peaceful death - when your heart was fluttering, mind clouded and blurry by a symphony? You wouldn’t say that, because only 10 seconds after hearing your song, the hallucination starts. One by one, the crew members collapsed onto the floor, some jumped and fed themselves to the hungry monster under the deep sea. Their hands reach to the nearest weapons, frantic red eyes looking like it’s gonna be popped out by how irritated the blood vessels got, having to witness their own death caused by their own hands. 

You don’t feel any grief for being that cruel to them. Humans share many similar features with sirens, even more than they have with mermaids. But they are all so weak, no really, they don’t have a pair of wings behind their backs or feathers on their thighs to protect them from the harsh weather like your kind do, nor do they have tails to move fast underwater like mermaids. That’s why they are only lower species who are destined to be feasted on. You keep rambling while tearing their breast out with your sharp claws, their constant begging falls on deaf ears. You’re not familiar with skinning humans so some organs were mixed with meat and fat, normally there’s another one that would deal with this task and you just gonna let them feed you the best bits. You couldn’t help grinning from ear to ear, thinking how proud of you he’s gonna be when you bring him this fresh heart that’s still beating slowly on your bloody palm. 

As you fly back home, you find his silhouette resting on the entrance, where the waves can reach his merman’s tail. 

“Babyyy I’m back. Look what I got!”

He huffs, narrowing his eyes.

“Couldn’t you tell me already? Gosh, the smell is awful. Human meat?”

You’re taken aback by his cold and sarcastic demeanor but quickly brush it off, considering he’s not in his best condition. 

“It’s a human heart. I hope it can cheer you up or at least make you less grumpy”

You reach out to pat his hair, it always does a great job to calm him down. Before you even touched his blue strand, your wrist was grabbed firmly by his hand. 

“You went hunting alone? Do you know how dangerous it is? They have weapons that can kill us in a heartbeat. Why didn’t you tell me first?” 

The heat spreading from his palm feels like it can burn your delicate skin, you try to struggle out of his hold but to no avail. 

“But you needed to rest. I’m fully capable of killing them alone, there weren’t even a scratch”

“You’re covered in blood. Next time don’t do unnecessary things like this. You smell like dead people.” He continues his nagging, there’s no point in getting hurt over his words, you know he would never say things like this in the right headspace. You put the bloody heart aside and clean all the nasty blood on your feathers, it seems to be clear that he doesn’t want any snack right now. 

As you finish cleaning up, you take a seat on his big tail, careful not to scratch him accidentally with your sharp claws. His body stiffens when you sit on his lap, grunting in his throat as your hand touches his forehead to check his body heat.

“Raf? This body temperature is not normal at all! What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine” his hands gripping on your waist to stop you from squirming on his lap, “It happens once a year. I just sleep it off” 

Once a year? Suddenly everything clicks in your mind.

“You’re in a rut, aren’t you?” Every signal is checked: abnormal body heat, labored breathing, dilated pupils, unexplainable mood swings…He doesn’t reply but his eyes shift to his lower abdomen. Your gaze follows him to find his thin fabric was drenched in precum. Blood rushes to your cheek and your heart beats with excitement when you pull it down, revealing his enormous erection. Merman’s manhood in general is way bigger than that of sirens, but it’s especially huge today, the heavy red tip rests on his belly, waiting to pump his seed all over your fertile flower. 

Your heavy wings spread out, covering your bodies from the outside world to get some privacy. 

“Don’t” 

“What?” your eyes looking up all confused.

“Don’t spread your wings. I want everyone to see that you’re mine to claim.”

You do just as you were told to, not without looking around to check for anyone around first. You don’t dare to confess, but the thought of someone watching you being such a slut for your lover caused waves of arousal inside you. Just from the smirk on his lips, you can tell he knows it already. 

He nearly choked on his breath when you ran your hand down his erected shaft, his tail splashes the waves impatiently. You kiss your way down his abdomen, licking and biting on his skin. Your mouth can only take half of his length, the rest have your hands do the work. Within minutes of you sucking his sensitive tip, he pushes your head away. His cock twitches angrily, begging for friction. 

“I need to feel you, please. I’ll make up for you later, but I really have to cum inside you”

With a nod from you, he aligns his tip clumsily and thrusts all the way in, reaching your womb. It doesn’t go any softer after he finishes, but the semen acts as an aphrodisiac to you. Your inside burns with the slow thrusts and lazy strokes on your bundle of nerves, so much that you sob into his chest, begging him to pick up the pace. At night, when your womb has no space for his cum anymore, that’s when he comes back to normal and peppers you with kisses. You’re sure that your eggs are all fertilized now, and he’ll need to find a bigger cave for your crowded family tomorrow. 

There’s so many things to prepare, but now, you just sleep in each other’s embrace without any care and leave it for tomorrow. Such an odd thing that two species who have nothing in common fell in love with each other. It’s truly beautiful, how you two can find out a whole new world that you’ve never known of, he’s the deep dangerous sea that you craved for one time to dive in, and you’re the cloud, the moon, the sun he couldn’t reach. Everything just feels right being with the right person, no matter the differences.

[sirenedusud]

once more to see you (adar x elf!reader)

decades at a time, you find yourself crossing paths with the Uruk.

AN: hey guys i was listening to mitski and for some reason (yeah sure) i was filled with yearning for adar. he intrigues me so. i need help like mentally or something.

AN II: at some point the horny evaporated from my body and i was feeling something different, this ended up being like 30% adar lmao, BUT ALAS I WRITE FOR MY OWN PLEASURE AND I CANNOT HELP IT. enjoy.

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Dawn swept across the great delta, the pools of seawater and grains of sand glistened like stars as the sunlight dappled through the clouds. Eärendil's plea had been answered by the Valar, and so a host of your fellow elves from Valinor arrived upon the shores of Beleriand. You followed the call with haste as you wished to be reunited with your dearest friends in exile, but now your stomach turned at the sight ahead. A looming shadow crept over the mountain range, threatening to overtake what remained of Middle Earth's western shores.

Your company had concluded setting up camp the day before. Now only battle preparations were being rehearsed repeatedly, for no one could predict when the fight would erupt. You spent the entire morning doing drills you could have done as easily in your sleep and so decided to slip away from the encampment for a moment away. The forest gave you no comfort though, darkness lingered everywhere, muffling your hyperaware senses. Still you wandered, bow clamped tightly in one fist. Minutes later, you stumbled upon a clearing in the woods, but someone was already there. Their presence made your blood run cold; you notched an arrow for good measure.

It was too late though, the figure turned swiftly, looking directly at your frozen figure behind a tree. He did not draw his sword, nor did you release your arrow. You found yourself completely transfixed on him. He seemed to be an elf, with his long, pointed ears and tresses of midnight black hair.

Whatever danger oozed from him ceased now as his own eyes captured every inch of you. You noticed tear stains on his hollow cheeks, had he been crying before you came? You stepped out of the tree's shadow without hesitation, allowing the sunlight to pour down on you, illuminating your pale blue attire and long, woven hair. He only continued to gaze at you, as if he was studying the magnificent night sky etched with constellations.

“What is something so fair doing wandering on this dark path?” he asked calmly. Your cheeks flushed, but before you could open your mouth a horn blared in the distance and you pointed your arrow in its direction, then back at the elf. He was gone. This couldn't mean well. You ran back to the encampment as fast as you could to find elves running back and forth, your commander yelling at soldiers and captains alike. The war began.

***

The black blood mucked onto your armor would not budge regardless of how much pressure you rubbed at it with. With a sigh of defeat you dropped the filthy rag and laid your head on the boulder behind you. Decades had passed and the war continued. In this moment of stillness between the two fronts, you and Galadriel had led the injured away from the desolate northern regions. Your mind wandered on the events of the past years: the countless orcs you had slain, the mountains and plains which had been ravaged, the elves and men that fell to their death beside you, and the glimpses of the dark elf from the woods passing by you on the battlefield yet never crossing your path.

"What troubles you?" Galadriel's soft voice stirred your attention. She stood before you, glorious even through the weariness of war.

"Nothing. Nothing besides the stench of those rotting Orcs," you replied without a look to her, guilt creeping into your heart. She crouched down before you and took your hands into her own without another word.

A deafening roar split through the air suddenly, snapping everyone awake. Upon the northern horizon, winged serpentine beasts flew in your direction. Men and elves alike shouted at the sight in an uproar of confusion.

"What treacherous hole have those beasts crept out of?" one man cried out, looking to his own equally mortified commanders.

"So this is Morgoth's desperate assault," your tall commander pondered, before speaking loudly for all to hear, "his forces have been expended. Do not give into fear. Do not fear!" In a blur, you part from Galadriel and fall into line with the remaining soldiers charging back into the heat of battle. The dragons devastated the front line, scalding skin off of bone, melting armor and sword, snapping arrows like twigs. As one dragon swooped down to rake through soldiers, you shot a large arrow into the beast's eye, causing it to roar in pain, but too quickly it recovered to charge straight at you. In that moment, fear paralyzed you. The cloud of flame descending upon you grew hotter by the second, and you closed your eyes. No fear.

That was until a cold metal hand yanked you by the nape of your armor, dragging you away from the now burning spot. You opened your eyes to see a black-haired figure pulling you further and further away from the fields and into a dark ravine. The ground was bloodied, black trees stood completely charred here. The air hung thickly; perhaps it was from the dragon fire, perhaps it was only something between you and the elf. He finally stopped to release you, causing you to catch yourself from face-planting into the rocky ground. He paced a little ways further, keeping his back to you. The sounds of clashing metal and roaring dragons continued in the background, yet grew faint as you focused solely on your savior.

"Who are you?" you asked warily, a hand resting upon the slender blade on your hip, yet rather pathetically you wished nothing more than for him to gaze at you like in your last meeting. He does turn eventually, and his eyes do find yours, but they were filled with anguish so strong it drew a worried expression from your own face.

"I am..." he began, "I thought I was fighting for my children’s place in this world, but it seems I led them all to death..." Children? What children did he speak of? You knew he served Morgoth, alongside other monsters and tormented souls twisted into Morgoth's "creations,” but no children were on that battlefield. You stood up slowly, trying to navigate the elf's mood as he looked down at the ground. His scarred hand grasped his black sword tightly, but you crept closer. He looked up again, stopping you in your tracks as electricity crackled between the two of you.

His pale face was scarred so severely that you winced at the thought of what it looked like when they were fresh, but he was beautiful nonetheless. His melancholic grey-blue eyes shone upon a set of high-cut cheekbones. His thin lips parted to speak again, but his gaze dropped down to the black blood staining your armor. Suddenly, his eyes darkened and he grew angry, stepping away from you. You panicked at this change in temper and unsheathed your blade.

"Forgive me," he muttered before striking you across the head with the butt of his sword. The power of his hit threw you unconscious and you crumpled to the floor. For a moment he regretted his action, but the shrieks of the dragons snapped him back into reality. He pulled you behind some large rocks, out of sight from any dangerous passerby, and returned to the battle which costed him his kin. The battle which he knew Morgoth was losing.

***

The golden forest welcomed you with a gentle breeze as you walked down the rows of trees carved into figures of martyred elves. You stood before the familiar faces, ebbs of grief resurfacing in your heart. Decades had passed since the War of Wrath ended and now you remained in Middle-Earth with numerous other elves. Sometimes you longed for the light of Valinor, yet other times a dark desire only found in this foreign land kept you chained to Middle-Earth. Now, you simply resided in the elven kingdom of Lindon.

"There you are," Gil-galad's voice called to you gently. You turned to greet him, his eyes softened at the sight of your weary face. Your heart, on the other hand, leapt after taking in the sight of the golden king. Moments like this passed between the two of you before, a connection that yearned to blossom during these peaceful years spent together in Lindon, but you said nothing of it and neither did he with all his power in the world. He stepped closer to you, taking your hand into his larger, warmer ones before speaking.

"I know this look. I know you regret not joining Galadriel on her...search," he began, his golden rings dazzling in the sunlight, "but I have a task for you which I hope proves to be a distraction because I do not wish to see you mourn the past, wandering here in these woods alone." His voice grew firmer towards the end. He was right, long had you spent idly in solitude, spiraling in dark memories yet also refusing to return to Aman.

"What is your command?" you asked aloofly. Gil-galad let out a sigh and patted the back of your hand, guiding you back out of the forest and towards his halls.

"I want you to go see Celebrimbor. See what he is conjuring in that workshop that keeps him so occupied," Gil-galad continued, "I'm afraid our friend is not replying to my envoys as swiftly as I would like, and thought perhaps a more familiar face would get things out of him sooner." A stronger breeze passed through the exit of the woods, causing your eyelids to flutter shut and you to inhale deeply. You opened your eyes to find Gil-galad studying your face, then looking away shyly. Before entering the main hall, he turned to you, gently clasping his hands upon your shoulders.

"Go now. Take two with you," he instructed, "and allow that foul battlefield to leave your mind.”

***

The road to Eregion was short. Your companions became immersed in the citadel's magnificence upon arrival, and so you made your way to Celebrimbor alone. Sure enough, you found him in his workshop, chipping away at a slender blade handle made of polished marble.

"Celebrimbor-"

"Oh!" he shouted in surprise, the blade snapping off of the handle before him, "Ohhh." He turned to you with a frown, but immediately lit back up.

"It is a delight to see you my dear friend," Celebrimbor stood up to come closer to you, "such a delight! We must feast and drink on this occasion...for when was the last time you graced my humble workshop,” he rested one hand on your back as he began guiding you towards the doors you had just entered from.

“But you see…right now I'm quite busy." You began to protest with the elf, but he swept you out of the tower quicker than you could repeat Gil-galad's inquiries. With no other way back inside, you headed out of Eregion's main gates and into the woods. You hadn't meant to go wandering again, but your body had grown accustomed to this ritual: to walk deeper into the woods, fall deeper into memories with every step, become blind to what stood before you physically as your mind filled with images of the past.

The sun began to set and you found yourself in a small clearing full of sweet scented flowers and lightning bugs floating about. Images of the dark elf's face flashed before your mind’s eye, causing your heart to stammer. You admitted to yourself that right now more than anything you wanted to see him once more. The softness he spoke to you with, the scars on his pale face, the agony in his burning gaze, the way those same eyes were so captivated by you in the woods; everything about him was intoxicating. It was so pathetic of you, an Eldar, to be emotionally bound to a creature of darkness. There was now an emptiness within you that he had dug, a hollow that tore open even wider when you remembered him. You fell to your knees in a soft bed of moss, grabbing fists of your hair as you begged yourself to forget the enemy.

"This is madness! I've been marked by some ill will. It’s a stain. It's just a trick of the dark forces, not my own mind! Not mine, not mine, not mine." Your hands hammered at your head. You threw your body forward and released a frustrated scream and then, bereft of any more strength, remained in child's pose upon the soft green earth. Crickets began to chirp around you, and the sound of careful footsteps reached your ears as well. You should have looked to see who it was, but you chose to sulk in self-pity. They grew closer, stopping midway as if they had seen something, then began to head towards you before stopping mere feet away.

"Fair creature..." a low voice spoke above you. You whipped your head up to find the darkling standing before you, clad in full black attire. Suddenly, you became aware of your lack of weapons, but then fell distracted by two tears escaping your eyes. It is a strange sensation, unfamiliar to you completely. Two drops of warm water traced down your cheeks and into the crevices of your lips, the taste of salt hitting your tongue, before continuing down your chin. You raised a hand to wipe the salty rivulets away, but a thumb in a black glove found them first. The dark elf knelt before you, looking curious as ever.

"How are you here?" Numerous questions filled your head at once, but time was of the essence with someone as fleeting as this elf.

"I fled in the end with my remaining children, in...someone else's refuge,” he hesitated with his words. He was afraid to reveal too much, yet he yearned to be vulnerable with you because he felt that he could. You caught his hand before it dropped away from your face, and rubbed your thumb against the back of his glove. He fell into a trance again, bewitched by your beauty, the beauty of elves he could no longer recall from his own memory. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest as he kept his hand in yours, your questions now forming quicker in your mind than on your tongue.

"Who are you? You left me in the mountain last we met. Why did you do it? Why not kill me? I killed…so many of yours," you spoke frantically. His eyes grew hurt, but he did not pull away from you.

"For as long as I can remember, I am called Adar," he began slowly, "My kin and I are Uruk. Yes, you killed many of them, yet I do not know why I spared you. I know...I saw something in you that day in the woods. Something that I should have turned away from, but I gave into it in that moment, and then again in the battle." Your face flushed and it was your turn to cease eye contact. Whatever intense desire you felt, he had felt it too, you were sure of this. All the sinners of Middle-Earth could have been pointing and laughing at you in this moment. You grew afraid, so afraid of how relieved you were to be with Adar right now, to know him a little more.

"I know what it is that stopped you from killing me," you tested your words as you were still apprehensive of this servant of Morgoth, "I felt it too." Slowly, you pulled Adar's hand up to your heart. For a moment the two of you remained like this, then he uttered something in a foreign tongue and pushed you away. He marched away from you before turning around.

"Do not ever seek me out," he said hoarsely, "for your own sake."

***

The waves lapped at the edge of the harbor on which you stood upon. You watched as some elves began to slowly board the ship set for Valinor. Galadriel stood beside you, looking increasingly agitated as her time to board came closer. Her company had returned several days ago from their search for Sauron, but the elves refused to carry on, forcing their commander to fall back as well.

You turned to Galadriel and she mirrored you. You gave her a weak smile, knowing full well she did not wish to take this gift of returning to Aman.

“Perhaps you could speak with Gil-galad once, since Elrond was of no use in this,” she said with a hint of hope, but you shook your head.

“If I speak any word of this to him, he’ll put me on that boat too and be rid of the both of us,” you turned to look back as you spoke, catching sight of the king in the distance. He gave you a small nod, perhaps thinking you were having a heartfelt farewell with your friend. Galadriel let out an airy laugh as she glanced at the king as well.

“Well, why aren’t you coming with us?” Galadriel inquired suddenly, curious as to why you had bound yourself to Middle-Earth. You looked at her shyly but simply shrugged; if you told her the truth you knew she would have dragged you onto the ship herself.

“There is still much I want to see. Things not as troubling as well, Sauron,” you responded slowly, taking the last few steps on the dock with Galadriel before she boarded the white ship. She turned back one last time to embrace you, bringing her lips close to your ear.

“I know he is alive,” she whispered.

“I believe you,” you reassured her before releasing her. She muttered a final goodbye before turning to face the front of the ship. You watched as Círdan, Master of the Grey Havens, stepped off the ship before it made its way out of the harbor. Galadriel, nor any of the other elves, turned back. You watched until the ship became a speck on the horizon, until the sun began to set, and until Elrond reached for your arm to guide you away from the harbor.

***

The elves of the Southlands were to return home. Wishing to escape Gil-galad’s ever-watchful eye, you chose to carry this message to the Watchtower of Ostirith. The elves spoke ill of the men in the villages below, who all felt the same way towards the elves even though they were severely defenseless without them. Save Arondir, who had grown fond of one particular woman. Oftentimes you wanted to advise him against it, to say that he would only be hurt if he chose to love a mortal, but you yourself chose worse things to love.

Upon one quiet morning, something had drawn you to the black forest surrounding the tower. The silence of these woods became unnerving though after walking through them for half an hour and you contemplated turning back, but you found yourself lost. You could not sense the way you came from at all. Terror split into your mind as you trekked down the path you were certain you had come from, desperately scanning the forest floor for signs of your own footprints. You were beginning to lose daylight, and prayed the woods were as empty as they sounded.

You suddenly stumbled into a thicket of webs and groaned at the white strands sticking to your hair and clothes.

“Cursed things! Spiders this close to people? Or, perhaps…I am not as close to civilization as I thought I was…” you trailed off into thought as you cut through the webs. The task at hand becoming so distracting that you did not detect one spider crawling up behind you. Your ears had caught the sound of one of its feet slipping though, but before you could turn to parry its attack, you found the arachnid dead with a black arrow through its skull. It fell with a loud thud to your feet, and you stared, dumbstruck, at the archer. Adar stood there, though not as shocked as you. You scrambled out of the webbed mess and straight to him, desperate to catch him before he slipped away again.

“I caught sight of you when you entered the forest. I sensed you were lost and only followed to make sure you returned to Ostirith in one piece–“ Adar began but stopped as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his armored chest.

“Please, please don’t leave! Please stop doing this to me,” you pled. A split second later Adar dropped his bow and clung onto you as well, his one bare hand raking through your long, soft hair. He pressed his face into your smooth forehead, and inhaled your floral scent, absorbing anything and everything he could of you. No guilt or shame reached you now. It was as if no one could see you, not Ostirith, not Gil-galad, nor the Valar.

“What does an Eldar want to have to do with me?” Adar’s question finally broke your peace. You looked at him in confusion, your mind juggling between reality and its possibilities.

“You could be forgiven, you did not know what you were going to be forced to do when Morgoth had twisted you into…none of this has to be your burden,” you rambled, but Adar shook his head.

“I cannot abandon my children. They have every right to be free in Middle-Earth as anybody else.”

“Children? What are these children you keep speaking of?” you sighed as you took a small step back and planted your hands to your hips. Adar smiled down at you, but inwardly he prepared for you to finally be disgusted by him, to finally reject him and free the both of you from this tangled web of emotions.

“The Orcs,” he explained, “they had been abused by Morgoth once, and I cannot allow it to happen again. They deserve to be free, to have their own land, with no ruler above them…I wish to grant them this peace.” You stared at Adar incredulously. What madness could possess someone to pity the vile Orcs?

“The only peace you could grant them is to put an end to their treacherous existence,” you replied harshly. Adar’s eyes grew angry for a moment, but his pent up desire caused him to soften under your stern gaze. You trembled as you began to realize that perhaps he would not join you in this eternal life, the darkness had truly twisted his soul. As if sensing this, Adar grasped your chin with his hand and forced you to look into his eyes.

“I don’t know what to do…” your lip began to quiver.

“For now…be here with me,” the Uruk responded before dipping his head down to capture your lips in his. You immediately melted into his armored body, any flame of despair within you extinguished. You kissed him back fervently, your hands reaching for his neck, lips feeling every inch of his cold ones. He rocked your head gently to the side, giving himself more leeway to devour your lips. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, a cold metallic taste filling your senses. His hands wandered down your body, slowly squeezing every bit of you from your breasts to your hips. A moan slipped out of you after one of his hands trailed back upward and gave your throat a soft press.

Twigs snap in the distance and you lurched back from Adar. His cold eyes scanned into the dark forest, his body covering yours protectively. After a minute passed, he turned back to you. His own heart, which he once thought long dead, jumped at the sight of you. The moonlight illuminated your flushed cheeks, your lips now glistening from the kiss, and the ardor in your eyes.

“We are not alone, fair creature,” Adar whispered to you between kisses on your cheek then nose then other cheek, “Your kin searches for you. Go to them.” You wanted to protest, but Adar only brushed a hand through your hair once more before stepping back into the forest, fading without a trace.

“There you are,” Arondir’s voice came from behind you. You turned to face the stoic elf with a dazed expression. He did not ask you why you were here, but simply beckoned you to follow him back to the tower. On your way back, you turned the cold taste of Adar on your tongue over and over again.

***

Arondir led you straight back to the tower, but before entering the fortress, he turned on his heel to face you.

“Who was with you out there?” he asked.

“Wh-what?” you stammered as the question caught you by surprise.

“Who was with you in the woods?” Arondir repeated, emphasizing each word. He took a step forward, looking down at you sternly. Your blood ran cold. Did he already know? Could you lie?

“I was lost, I was talking to myself. There wasn’t any–“

“Do not lie!” Arondir’s jaw tightened as he snapped at you. You stood with your mouth agape, feeling as if you were shrinking smaller and smaller under his judgmental gaze.

“Did you not think I could sense the darkness lingering on your flesh?” you shivered as he continued, “and to think…you succumbed to it so easily.”

“You don’t understand! It was nothing of that sort!” you pled but to no avail. Arondir scowled, turning away from you and headed into the tower.

“It is best you leave these lands. For good,” Arondir called over his shoulder before leaving you alone in the dark. You fell to your knees, praying under your breath for the night sky to come down and swallow you up from your spot.

***

When you reached Lindon, two soldiers immediately led you to Gil-galad. As you entered the king’s study, you noticed a crumpled letter on his ivory desk, as if he had read it and crushed it in his palm immediately. The tall elf stood with his back to you for several minutes, sweat began to form at your hairline. Finally, he turned to you with a somber expression.

“Do you know what I just read?” he asked, barely in a whisper.

“Gil-galad…” he raised a trembling hand to stop you regardless of asking you a question. He stepped around his desk and loomed over you. His eyes searched yours for something you could not decipher. He raised a pointing hand as he spoke.

“Tomorrow, at first light, there is a ship leaving for Valinor. You will take it, and you will not have any say in this,” he seethed. Disappointment burned in his eyes, and for once you became afraid of him. Naturally, you did not protest and without another word bowed to Gil-galad before turning to leave the room.

Hot tears streamed down your face as you made your way as far as you could from everyone. You kept your face down in shame, making your way to the edge of the city before bumping into someone. You looked up to see Elrond. His mouth parted in surprise but he quickly swept you into a tight embrace, patting your back as you stifled a sob.

“Surprised he didn’t send you off with Galadriel the first time,” Elrond joked quietly, but his voice remained solemn. He did not ask anything else of what had happened in the Southlands, even though he knew the basis of it.

“I should have left the moment the war ended.”

***

The waves were gentle as they carried your ship closer and closer to the golden rays before you. Warmth hummed within your chest as the clouds parted completely to reveal the brilliance of Aman. The welcoming light grew stronger, infiltrating every bit of your surroundings. Your senses began to buzz entirely. Any despair in your mind melted away, and the hollow in your heart filled with something soft and kind. A song from the Amanyar carried through the breeze; the chorus of silken voices beckoned you home.

[clamenstell]

more lovesick!gojo cause this man lives rent free in my head 😔 (also cause u guys seem to really like him too 😳)

- lovesick!gojo who purposefully gets himself injured just so you can treat his wounds and nurse him back to health. "How'd you get this hurt Satoru?" "Uh, I don't know, just happens I guess," he shrugs but in reality he asked Suguru to use his curses to hurt him on purpose. "Can't you ask Shoko to heal your wounds?" "She's busy and I can't treat these myself~" "What happened to your untouchable infinity?~" "...It's a work in progress." you don't believe him.

- lovesick!gojo who hangs around your dorm during his free time whenever he can because he loves your presence and want to be close to you. 

- lovesick!gojo who barges in without knocking the door since you got used to him coming in whenever, but this time was a bad time. You were changing when you heard your door burst open with a loud obnoxious voice yelling "I'm bored! Let's do something! :D" "😦" "😨😨😨" You've never seen someone shut the door so fast. "I am soo sorry. Oh my god." you can hear him mumble through the door.

- lovesick!gojo who's face was entirely red as he covered his face with his hand, head leaning against the very door that separated him and your half dressed self.

- lovesick!gojo who swears he would gouge his eyes out if you asked him but at the same time feel blessed for being able to see a sight he thought he would never see, he feels like a young pubescent teen all over again. You forgave him as you know it was an accident but he still bought you pastries as an apology.

- lovesick!gojo who feels his face heat up whenever he sees you as the thought of you half dressed would pop up and make him flustered, making his cheeks red.

- lovesick!gojo who acts stupid when it comes to homework so that he could ask for your help and try to score a study date with you. "Hey can you help me with question 4 🥺?" "Sure :)" "That question is so easy what are you talki-" Suguru, who has to deal with his sad attempt at flirting, likes to interrupts sometimes, good thing Satoru has a good reflex and slaps his palm over the cockblocker's mouth.

- lovesick!gojo who loves sitting next to you when you host a movie night with the others, especially when it's late at night as your sleepy self would lean your head on his shoulder for support, he could smell the fragrance of your shampoo and feel the gentle rise of your breathing.

- lovesick!gojo who has never been so still in his life to not wake you up, even if the movie ends he would rather stay here all night to be close to you. When Suguru and Shoko notices, they would make kissy faces and all he could do is flip them off while his ears redden.

- lovesick!gojo who loves doing little things like covering the corner of the table when you lean down to pick something up, or making sure you're walking on the inside of the road when you two walked down the streets, or when raining he made sure you were fully covered under the umbrella even if his shoulder is exposed to the rain (dw he has infinity). Even if you don't notice, he wants to show his love through small actions (you do notice it :)).

- lovesick!gojo who's heart jumps out his throat when you snuck a kiss to his cheek when he brought your favourite pastry, smiling sweetly at him.

- lovesick!gojo who remains still in shock as his whole face burst in red as you grab his hand and held up the pastries he bought, "Let's share them :)" Humming softly and dragging him back to your dorm by the hand, squeezing his softly, to share the sweet treat and maybe watch a movie, just the two of you <3

- lovesick!gojo who swears he can die happy and fulfilled as you two sit shoulder to shoulder and watched digimon together (you know he loves it).

- lovesick!gojo who wishes he could pause this very moment if he could, forget being the strongest as long as he could stay by your side, holding your hand and kissing your cheek <3

- lovesick!gojo who's on cloud nine and can't stop grinning the next day that Suguru and Shoko look at him weird. "What's with his face," Shoko turns to you, sticking a thumb in Satoru's direction and you only smile. "Gross," Suguru grumbles, figuring out the reason and Satoru gasp. "You're just jealous that I bagged the most gorgeous woman ever!" wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your cheek. "I bet you weren't even the one who confessed," Suguru snickers earning a 'Hey!' from your pouting boyfriend, who you love very much <3

- lovesick!gojo who finally gets the chance to kiss you under the moonlight, who kisses you with such tenderness, pouring all his feelings into it, holding your cheek with one hand and holding your waist with the other. Turning his head to deepen the kiss, he never wants to forget this feeling, the feeling of your soft lips against his and the feeling of finally having you in his arms. Pulling away to breath, you both smile as he lean your foreheads together. Gods, he's just so in love with you.

not as good as the last one but hope you guys enjoyed it none the less :)