#feels like I know her from somewhere as well

[sapphiressmoke]

Outlander II

Summary: She’s doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Modern!Reader

Characters mentioned: Criston Cole

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Nothing as of now but angst, romance, smut.

A/N: So they just met! Giggling and kicking my feet. There is some symbolism in this chapter if you are able to spot it and some other things. I’m excited to see where this goes.

Previous

He found himself wandering the forest, heading in no particular direction in his mind but it seemed as if his feet were guiding him… No his heart was guiding him somewhere. Kingswood was known for being mystical, all knowing and mysterious. People entered and never came back. Is that what will happen to him? Will he disappear? His feet continued to guide him through the tall grass. The world was silent around him, peaceful for once. Was he dead? He would’ve been okay with that thought. Truly… He would no longer be in pain, he would no longer feel the need to be in competition and he wouldn’t feel the need to fight for his fathers attention.

Though it felt like he was walking for hours, it was only mere minutes. ‘Aemond, stop and look up.’ A voice spoke to him. It was… his voice? Something within him seemed to be guiding him towards a space. His heart felt like it was guiding him. He took a glance up and discovered a stone wall that sat on the top of the hill. Aemond has heard of these stones before but he knew there wasn’t much written about them despite their long history in the forest. It was The Stone of Many a Moon. The reason why there wasn’t much written on them was because well… they would disappear. It seemed as if something didn’t want them to be discovered more than they were known. ‘Go up. She’s scared.’

Scared? Who was scared and why would she be scared. He walked up the small hill, up towards the wall. He heard whimpers and sensed movement coming from along the stones, curled up in the tall, green grass. He went to place a hand on the hilt of his sword but all he was met was open space. Why would he go in the forest without protection? “Hello? I know you’re there.”

At the sound of his voice, a head perched up and he was met with wide, scared eyes. Your wide eyes stared into him and softened for a slight second. He watched at you scrambled up to your feet. You were wearing a black slip dress with a black shall. He thought that your clothing was quite weird, the way you looked was weird. When you finally stood up, you practically stumbled towards him, as if you were a baby deer learning to walk. He quickly grabbed you by your arms as you fell into him. “H-Help me! I… I don’t know where I am or how I got here.” You had tears falling down your cheek.

He had this urge to protect you, shield you from the world. He brought you into his arms and stroked your hair. Why was he doing this. “I got you, don’t worry.”

Aemond woke up in a start, a thin layer of sweat covered his skin despite the crisp morning air from outside his tent. He brought his hands up towards his face and tried rubbing the sleep away before sighing. Who was this woman? Was he suppose to know her? His heart called out for her and broke when he saw her terrified. She was beautiful. No… She was ethereal. His thoughts were cut short with the voice of his mothers sworn protector calling to him. “Good morrow, My Prince. I have been sent to come get you as the hunt will begin soon.”

“Thank you, Ser Criston. I will get ready shortly and meet everyone at the forest line.” He advised the knight. “Please get my horse ready.”

The words ‘Go up, she’s scared’ replayed in his mind. What if she was actually in the forest, surrounded by The Stone of Many a Moon, scared and alone? Just having that thought caused his chest to tighten in sorrow. He shook his head away the thoughts as he decided to get out of his bed and finally get dressed. He made his way to his clothing trunk and took out his gear. He shrugged on his black linen tunic with a matching pair of black linen pants. He grabbed his forest green cotton jacket made with padding to protect him. He grabbed his sword, belt and placed his eyepatch over his scarred eye before he exited his tent.

Upon exiting, he was met with the lady in waiting of his mother bowing to him. “Hello, My Prince. I hope you slept well. I am aware that you are on your way to the hunt but The Queen has requested me to serve you a bowl of fruits and oatmeal before you go. She does not want you to faint.” Her arms stretched out towards Aemond to hand him the bowl.

He stared at it for a quick moment before grabbing it. “Thank you. Please advise my mother that I will visit her once the hunt is over.” He heard the lady in waiting softly speak ‘Yes, My Prince.’ before he made his to the forest like whilst eating the bowl that was provided to him. He felt this pull towards the forest, a yearning to go find her. Perhaps that is why he had agreed to join the hunt. Upon arriving with the other men, he threw the empty bowl onto the floor and made his way towards the Knight. Upon taking the reign from him, he pondered. “Criston, what do you know of The Stones of Many a Moon?”

He gave the prince a look, wondering why he was being asked this question. “Not much, My Prince. In Dorne, it is said to be protected by magic, a gate to something that people are not quite sure. It is known to be on a hill in this forest but it is not quite sure where.” Ser Criston watched as Aemond climbed his horse. “Why are you asking?”

A smirk played on the one eyed princes lips. “We shall leave the hunt for the brutes, Ser Criston, we are on a journey to find this monument.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Mount your damn horse and follow me. If you must need a reason, I shall give you one… away from these damn men.” Aemond clicked, allowing his Black Mare to start the journey towards his dream.

The white cloaked knight followed swiftly behind the silver haired prince. With the prying ears away from their conversations, all formalities were dropped. “Now Aemond, please tell me why we are on this wild search.” An hour into the ride, Criston had finally broken the silence.

Still keeping this eyes forward, he explained what he had dreamed and what it has caused him to feel. “Well Criston, the past two nights I have had this dream which was surrounded by these stones. There is this woman… Her beauty is beyond this world. There is someone who urges me to go to her and save her. That someone may be myself. She is scared and alone.” He paused for a moment, waiting to see if Criston would say something. “Upon meeting each other, she falls into my arms. She is lost. All I want to do, my heart wants to do is hold her and protect her.”

“So you dragging me into a wild goose chase over a dream?” Criston scoffed. “Are you even sure she is real?”

A laugh danced on Aemonds lips. “I am as sure as my dear brother is a drunk.”

As soon as the conversation started, it quickly ended.

He couldn’t get your face out of his mind. He wanted to cradle your face in the palm of his hand and wipe your tears away. He wanted to take your fear away and tuck them away, out of sight.

‘Aemond, continue forward. You are near.’ The voice made him stop his horse and look at his surroundings. It was the first time he has heard the voice outside of his dreams. ‘Help me.’ It was your voice. “Criston, we must make haste. We are near.”

“And did the voices tell you that?”

“My Gods… Will you shut up.” Aemond laughed.

Criston pointed straight ahead. “The voices in my head say that there is a hill up there. Oh wait! They also say that you are slightly crazy!”

Before Aemond could respond with something witty, he felt a shift in the air. His eyes grazed over the land before he spotted it. He spotted the White Hart. The King of the Forest bowed towards the prince before turning around and walking back from where he came from. ‘Time travels back and is protected by the White King.’ A deep voice whispered. It was not his voice or anyone he would know. This was his chance. Before even warning his companion, Aemond sprung out of the saddle and pushed his weight down on the stirrup, applying pressure to get his horse into a full gallop. He heard his name being yelled in the background but he did not care, all he wanted to do was find you. He couldn’t help but feel free for the first time. He was doing something he wanted to do, not something of duty or how it would make his family look.

The Black Mare suddenly slowed down upon nearing a small hill, Aemond tapped his foot on the side of the horse but it refused to move, as if something was not allowing it to continue. He raised his head to look up the hill and his eyes later upon the White King once again. It was beckoning him to follow. The Stones were up there, he knew it. He dismounted his horse and ran up the hill. His heart was pounding in his chest, knocking on his rib cage, feeling like it would rip out at any moment.

Just like in his dream, he felt her presence from behind the stones, he saw the tall grass dance in the wind and he spotted her. She was curled in a ball, the grass covering her from any harm as if it were her safety blanket. He took a moment to take a deep breath before speaking, his voice shaking from anticipation. “Hello? I know you’re there. Please come out.”

At the sound of his voice, he saw a head perch up, eyes wide with fear and confusion. It truly was you. His dream could not depict your true beauty but his eyes could truly see it. You were other worldly. He watch you stumble onto your feet and run towards him, practically falling into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, one around you waist and the other holding your head. “It’s you.” You whispered, soft as air.

“It’s me.”

Aemond looked over your shoulder to see the White Hart bow down, make a whining noise before running back into the woods.

Kingswood Night Prior

You stumbled back, hands shaking from the shift of energy that exited you “Oh Gods, what did I do?” You couldn’t help the shake in your voice. The world around you was darker, the stars brighter than before.

You backed away from the stones, wondering what your next move would be. You weren’t far from the Hotel, right? Maybe if you screamed loud enough, someone will you hear you and find you. That was the plan… Scream. “Someone! Please! I’m lost a-and I don’t know where I am!” You pulled your shall over you to protect you from the cold wind of the night, reminding you just how lonely you were. “Please! Help!” You had realized you brought your bag with you since you packed the flashlight. You begun to scramble for the bag, having no luck finding it. “Please don’t say I dropped it… Please oh Gods.”

Tears of frustration began to fall down your cheeks, you were scared and alone and you weren’t sure what your next game plan was. Talia would tell the teacher you were missing right? That’s what you told her to do. Were you stupid and decided to find your way out? Of course you were. The only way you could decide on which way to go was by doing a stupid game; you were going was you closed your eyes, pointed an arm out and spin until you got dizzy and stopped. Once you finished spinning and looked at where your arm was, that was where you were heading. “Stupid Y/N. You just had to go into the stupid forest and get lost. Now you have decided to get more lost in the forest. Fuck me.” You wiped your tears away and started carefully walking. “What if I get mulled by a bear or attacked by a boar… Gods, I’m going to die here.”

‘Y/N, go back.’

You whipped your head back, looking for the voice. “No! You are the reason I’m in this mess.” You seethed. “Maybe Talia was right. Maybe I am crazy. I’m losing it.” You tried ignoring the voice telling you to go back and continued on your route. Every couple of seconds, you would spot the silver haired man, the voices were getting all muddled together. You clutched your ears, crying “Stop!” You tried to running until you collided with a hard being. It was soft to the touch and you could just barely see that it was white under the moonlight. You took a step back and looked up and saw that before you was a beautiful White Hart. His fur was a beautiful silvery white and his eyes were two different colours, the right was a beautiful violet and the left was a deep blue, like a sapphire. It huffed a deep breath and bent down slightly to bump its snout against your shoulder, as if it was trying to push you back. You took a couple of more steps back and tried to walk around the beautiful beast but with each step you took, it blocked you. “Come on! What do you want.”

The Stag did a deep roar before pushing you back with his snout in the direction you came from. You spoke to him, as if he could understand you. “Do you want me to go back? I’m trying to find my way out of this damn forest.” It took a few seconds before the Stag did a movement that could only be described as a nod. Okay so he could understand you. “Okay! Fine I guess.” You turned around and started walking back in the direction of the stones, and you kept looking over your shoulder to see if the Stag was following you and it was. ‘Right choice, go back and wait.’ You groaned. “Oh shut up!”

On the walk back, you felt as if there was this film covering your eyes and a heavy blanket was laid over you. You felt as if you were sleep walking. The only thing allowing you to know that you weren’t yet asleep was the warmth radiating from the Hart standing behind you. The last thing you can remember was laying down in the tall grass and feeling the soft fur envelope you like a hug.

The wind blew was blowing through your hair and a laugh bubbled from between your lips. There was a tight hold around your waist to keep you from falling from the great height you were flying. “I wish I could have experienced this feeling sooner, Aemond!”

Was that the man’s name?

You felt his chin rest on your shoulder and whispered sweetly in your ear. “You can experience this feeling for the rest of your life… As long as I am alive, you shall experience this feeling, ñuha jorrāelagon.” He placed a sweet kiss just below your ear.

All you felt was freedom, peace and love.

The warmth was cradled you all night was gone and you were left feeling the cool morning wind hugging you uncomfortably. Was the whole night just a dream? You tried curling up into a tight ball to try and perverse heat. You were alone… Again? You felt the fear creep back up through your throat and all you wanted to do was cry in the ball you held yourself in. The only thing going through your mind was that you were going to die here but that solemn thoughtwas cut short when you heard the voice you had been hearing since coming to Kings Landing. “Hello? I know you’re there. Please come out.” That voice. It didn’t even take you a split second before you swung your head up from the tall grass. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as your wide eyes met with his beautiful violet eye. He was truly beautiful, as if hand crafted from the Gods above. You stumbled onto your feet, practically tripping over them, before falling into his arms. You’ve only seen this man following you like a ghost but it felt right to hold him. He felt like home. You let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. “It’s you.”

You felt him hold onto you for dear life, as if he had the same feeling as you. “It’s me.”

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[justlemmeadoreyou]

the date (part 2 to meet-cute)

read meet-cute here

Summary: after the smooth exchange of numbers with harry, he offers to take you on a date.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: flirting, teasing, kissing, fluff

*

"I still can't believe you left your number for me," Harry chuckled into the phone, grinning uncontrollably. "That was smooth as silk, darling."

You giggled bashfully on the other end of the line. "Well, I had to take my chance when I saw it! Couldn't very well let you slip through my fingers now, could I Mr. Styles?"

"Just Harry, please love. And I'm certainly glad you didn't - I've been kicking myself for not asking properly."

"Mmm, well luckily for you I'm a modern woman who knows how to shoot her shot."

Harry threw back his head with a deep, rumbling laugh that had butterflies erupting in your stomach despite the phone between you.

"That's my girl! Speaking of shots though...how would you feel about letting me take you out to dinner this weekend? Make it an official date and all?"

You beamed so hard that your cheeks started to ache. "Harry Styles asking me on a date? However will I contain my excitement?" 

"Is that a yes then?" You could practically hear the smirk in his raspy tone.

"Yes, oh impatient one! It's a definite yes. I'd love to go out with you."

"Brilliant! Say, Friday around 7? I'll make us a reservation somewhere nice but lowkey so we can just... talk and get to know each other better." His voice dropped an octave on those last few words, the graveled timbre making you shiver.

"Sounds perfect," you murmured, fiddling with the ends of your hair. "I'll be counting down the minutes!"

"Me too, love. Me too."

When Friday night finally rolled around, you were a desperate tangle of nerves and excitement. You'd spent far too long fretting over what to wear, determined to look your best for Harry but not like you were trying too hard. Eventually you settled on a flowy printed sundress with strappy sandals and loose curls framing your face.

"You've got this, Y/N!" you pep talked your reflexion in the mirror, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles in the soft fabric. "It's just Harry. The super famous, ridiculously talented, impossibly gorgeous Harry Styles who you've had a crush on for years and years and - oh god, what was I thinking?!"

You were seconds away from ripping the dress back off when a car honk sounded from outside. Stomach swooping with panic and anticipation, you did one last makeup check before slinging your purse over your shoulder and hurrying out.

The sleek black Mercedes idling at the curb made your heart kick into high gear. When the driver's side door popped open and Harry unfolded himself out, your mouth very nearly fell open.

Dressed in a slightly rumpled blue button-down and charcoal slacks, the man looked like he'd stepped straight out of a magazine spread. As his shoulder duster jacket fell open, you caught the peek of Gucci loafer adorning each foot. His hair looked artfully mussed with just a touch of his natural curl visible. It took everything in you not to openly gape like an idiot.

"Hi there!" Harry greeted you cheerfully as you approached, those sinful dimples peeking out on either side of his radiant smile. "You look absolutely gorgeous - take my breath away a bit there!"

Your cheeks instantly flushed to match the rosy print of your dress. "Thank you, you don't look half bad yourself," you managed to reply, willing your knees not to dissolve beneath you.

"Ahh, just 'not half bad', is it? Well I'll have to try harder than that to impress you, won't I darling?" he teased, voice dropping to that low register that never failed to make your toes curl. 

With a wink, Harry opened the passenger door for you in a gentlemanly flourish. You couldn't resist shooting back a playful, "I guess you will at that, popstar."

You were rewarded with another one of his deep, husky laughs that vibrated straight through you in the most delicious way. Harry just shook his head in amusement as you settled into the plush leather interior.

"You're trouble already, sweetheart. I dunno if I'm prepared for this..."

When Harry slid in beside you with those mile-long legs you suddenly found it very hard to breathe. There was just something inescapably sexy about seeing a man like him in such a confined space. Like his raw masculine presence took up every available inch of oxygen.

"H-Hopefully not too much trouble," you quipped lightly, trying to recover some of your banter despite your wildly hammering pulse. "I do know how to behave and use my indoor voice."

Harry fixed you with a heart-stutteringly heated look through those unfairly lush lashes of his. "Oh, I certainly hope not, pretty girl."

The two of you held one another's gazes for a beat too long, the air sparking and thickening around you. Until finally Harry cleared his throat and faced forward, fingers visibly flexing on the steering wheel.

"So! Dinner at Luigi's sound alright?"

Mutely nodding, you tried to concentrate on taking some calming breaths as Harry guided the vehicle into traffic. You hoped he couldn't sense the myriad of butterflies currently swarming frantically in your belly. Already your highly anticipated date was shaping up to be just as dizzying and delicious as you'd always dreamed.

By the time Harry pulled up to valet, you'd managed to regain at least some of your composure. Not enough to avoid staring a bit too intensely when he rounded the car and gallantly offered you his arm to escort you inside. But honestly, you were beginning to question how anyone kept their chill around Harry Styles in person.

The interior of the restaurant was dimly lit with an intimate, cozy ambiance. Soft Italian music played from hidden speakers and the scents of garlic, wine and baking bread hung thick in the air. 

As the maître d' guided you towards your private table in the back corner, Harry's hand rested securely at the small of your back. You fought not to shiver at the barely-there brush of his fingertips against your bare skin.

"This okay, love?" he murmured in your ear once you'd been seated at the small, candle-lit table. "Not too public or anything?"

You nodded quickly, struggling to find your voice for a moment. "It's perfect, thank you."

When the waiter came round with your drink orders, shockingly flagrant heart eyes and a request for Harry's autograph, you couldn't help the small giggle that escaped. Harry merely flashed the young man a tight smile and politely declined while squeezing your hand where it rested on the white tablecloth. 

"Sorry 'bout him, darling," he murmured with a slight grimace as the waiter retreated with reddened cheeks. "Not exactly the most romantic welcome, eh?"

"Oh hush, you," you swatted his arm playfully. "Although I will admit it wasn't the most subtle 'hot for Harry' look I've ever witnessed."

Harry choked out a surprised laugh, green eyes dancing merrily in the soft candlelight. "A bit familiar with those kinds of looks then, are you sweetheart? Should I be worried?"

"Well let's see...how jealous do you get when Perfect Polly Instagram won't stop flooding my feed with thirsty tongue emojis every time you so much as breathe?" You quirked one cheeky brow at him over the rim of your water glass.

Harry's grin only broadened, clearly delighted by your unexpected brashnrss. "Well now, darling, sounds like I may need to have a few stern words with Polly myself. Letting the world know in no uncertain terms just whose girl you are."

A fresh blush crept across your cheekbones at his words and the undercurrent of possession laced through them. No matter how much you wanted to play it coy and unaffected, you couldn't deny the arousing trill of satisfaction at Harry considering you his.

Before you could formulate any sort of snarky reply, the waiter arrived to take your orders. Harry gallantly allowed you to go first, regarding you intently in the meanwhile. As soon as the poor man left again, he fixed you with such an endearingly besotted look the breath caught in your throat.

"Have I mentioned lately how stunning you are, Y/N? Because you truly take my breath away."

You rolled your eyes instinctively, though a soft giggle escaped along with it. "Pretty smooth there, rockstar. Though I suspect you've used that line on a few girls in your day

Harry let out an amused chuckle, not even attempting to deny your playful accusation. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, all loose-limbed grace as he regarded you with a tender warmth.

"Can't say it's my best material, I'll admit. But then, something tells me you'd be able to see straight through any less-than-genuine flattery, darling."

You arched one eyebrow teasingly. "Oh? And what gave you that impression, Mr. Styles?"

"Call it a hunch," he murmured, gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flickering back up to hold your stare steadily. "You seem like the type who'd appreciate a man being honest and upfront."

A delighted shiver coursed through you at his words - both the graveled timbre and the implication behind them. Before you could formulate a suitably flirtatious response, the waiter returned bearing your steaming entrees.

"Ah, perfect timing!" Harry exhaled with a crooked grin, deftly switching gears. "I don't know about you, gorgeous, but I'm famished."

As the mouthwatering aroma of seafood linguine wafted up from your plate, you realized just how ravenous you were as well. You'd been so wrapped up in Harry's charming presence that you'd nearly forgotten about sustenance altogether. Shaking your head slightly, you picked up your fork with an answering grin.

"Well then, we'd better tuck in before it gets cold! I want you to have the full authentic experience."

Over the next little while, you and Harry fell into an easy flow of idle conversation and shameless flirtatious banter. He peppered you with random questions about your interests and background, seeming to hang on your every response with rapt fascination.

"How does a gorgeous, talented thing like you end up gracing this city anyway?" he asked at one point, toying idly with the stem of his wineglass. "Surely some bloke back in Cheshire should've snatched you up ages ago."

You couldn't bite back your snort of laughter. "What, you don't think I'm capable of being a self-assured, independent woman?" 

Waving a dismissive hand, you continued before he could protest. "I came down to Venice for uni, fell in love with the energy and creative pulse of the city. Never looked back really!"

Harry's dimples peeked out as his lips curved into an admiring grin. "That's my girl - chasing her dreams on her own terms instead of waiting around for someone else's validation." He topped off your wineglass with a wink. "Though I suspect you have a fair few blokes - and birds, let's be real - kicking themselves for not locking it down sooner, eh?"

You made a show of batting your lashes coyly even as warmth bloomed across your cheeks. "Well I certainly can't complain about the options in London..."

"Hey now!" Harry cut in with a laugh, pointing his fork accusingly. "Don't go getting too big for your britches just yet, missy. I'll have you know I'm quite the hot commodity meself these days."

"Oh I'm sure," you tittered, delighting in the back-and-forth. "Though sadly the panda fever seems to have passed me by. Do go on though, I'm all ears for these sordid tales of Harry Styles: Omega Idol."

Harry made a playfully outraged sound, clutching at his chest. "Omega?! Why I never...if anything, I reckon I'm more of a prime alpha specimen."

"Is that so?" You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on one palm as you gave him an overtly assessing look up and down. "I don't know, popstar...I'm just not sure you've got the stride for it."

With a wicked glint in his eye, Harry pushed back from the table and stood in one lithe movement. He began slowly unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as you watched with rising heat, finally shrugging the jacket off his shoulders entirely and letting it pool on his vacant chair.

"How's this, darling?" he purred, voice like liquid velvet as he stalked around the table towards you with leonine grace. "Giving you more...alpha...vibes now?"

Your mouth went abruptly dry, eyes riveted to the expanse of golden skin and corded muscle on display now above his slacks. Harry came to a stop directly beside your chair, towering over you with one large hand braced on the table and the other settling on the back of your seat.  

When you managed to tear your gaze up and meet his heated stare, your insides clenched with a molten thrill. Those emerald depths glittered with sin and challenge and something so magnetic it stole the air from your lungs.

"Well?" Harry's smooth baritone rumbled through you, lips curved in the most sinfully sensual of smirks. "Any other concerns about my...prowess, love?"

As if in a daze, you slowly shook your head. Your fingers itched with the fierce urge to reach out and map the hard planes of his chest and abdomen for yourself. To revel in the warmth and solidity of the man caging you in his orbit.

Just as you felt yourself leaning inexorably closer, chasing that gravitational pull, a discreet throat clearing had you jumping nearly out of your skin. You whipped your head around to find your waiter standing by with wide eyes and twin spots of color in his cheeks.

"Ahh, s-Signore Styles!" he stammered slightly, adjusting his tie with unsteady fingers. "Is there, ehm, anything else I can get for you and...and the signora?"

Harry didn't so much as spare the younger man a glance, languid eyes still burning into your flushed face with heated promise. His hand came up to toy with one of the curled tendrils framing your neck, featherlight touch raising goosebumps along your skin.

"No, mate," he rumbled, voice gone low and thick as smoke. "We're quite alright for now. Thanks though."

As the flustered water beat a hasty retreat, still blushing furiously, you let out a breathless giggle. "Poor bloke looked seconds away from a heart attack!"

Harry's teeth flashed in a wolfish grin as his fingers continued tracing idle patterns against your sensitive skin. "Can't say I blame him, love. I'd be scandalized too if I had to look at something as sinfully gorgeous as you for too long."

Oh good lord, how did he always manage to rob you of oxygen with the smallest comments? Knowing you had to regain at least a modicum of composure before this evening descended into a lust-crazed fiasco, you squeezed Harry's bicep gently.

"Right, well I'll kindly ignore your skewed vision for now, mister. But maybe take a step back before you give the other diners something to gawk at besides rugged good looks?"

Chuckling again, Harry obediently slid away, reclaiming his seat in one smooth motion. But not before dipping to brush the faintest whisper of lips across your blushing cheek.  

When he straightened, that cheeky glimmer was back twinkling in his eyes like he knew damn well the effect he had on you. Still, you welcomed the brief chance to take a few calming breaths without his intoxicating presence overwhelming you entirely.

Over the next while, you and Harry continued your flirtatious back-and-forth in between sampling bites of dessert. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, keeping him on his toes while simultaneously swooning over every sinfully appealing aspect of him. 

Mercifully, the arrival of your shared tiramisu dessert provided a temporary reprieve from the thick, smoldering tension crackling between you. Though you had to swallow down a fresh wave of want at the sight of Harry wrapping those obscenely lush lips around his first bite.

With a soft moan of appreciation, he closed his eyes briefly as the flavors melted across his tongue. "Oh darling, you have to try this...it's heavenly."

Hazily, you gave a jerky nod and accepted the offered forkful. The rich, creamy taste burst over your senses in a blend of cocoa, espresso, and perhaps just a hint of Harry's unique musk.

A slow smile curved your lips as you let out a moan of your own accord. "God yes, Harry...it's amazing."

Dinner finally devoured, you settled back with a contented sigh and studied him through your lashes. He was nursing the last sip of his wine, cheeks faintly flushed and hair deliciously rumpled. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight in your life.

"What?" he rumbled out, almost seeming to read your thoughts.

You shook your head minutely but allowed your smile to deepen. "Nothing, I'm just...really enjoying this. All of this. Thank you for tonight, Harry."

His features melted into an expression of such tender warmth your heart physically ached. Wordlessly, Harry reached across the table to thread his fingers with yours. The pad of his thumb traced slow, maddening circles over the pulse point of your wrist. 

"No, my sweet girl. Thank you." 

His voice was scarcely above an intimate murmur, vowels rasping with palpable sincerity that left you breathless. Those searing emerald eyes burned into your very soul as if entreating you to understand everything unspoken behind his simple words.   

"Shall we take a little stroll before calling it an evening?" Harry suggested softly, though his gaze never lost its ardent intensity. "Work off a bit of dinner before dessert, so to speak?"

Those last few words vibrated between you like the richest melted chocolate - sultry promises in every syllable. You gave a small, dazed nod, utterly helpless to resist this man's charms.

"I'd love that."

Outside, the evening summer breeze was balmy and scented with the rich greenery of Hyde Park across the street. Harry looped your arm through his as you began ambling the quiet paths winding through the gardens. 

For a few blissful moments, you simply soaked in the peaceful ambiance of being so intimately entwined with one another. Harry's familiar crisp cologne surrounded you, his strong bicep flexing beneath your fingers. Occasionally, he'd dip close to murmur some silly pun or observation that would have you giggling softly against his shoulder.

Coming around a bend, the two of you emerged beside a small, glassy pond with a quaint wooden bridge arching over. Tiny white lights had been strung across the handrails, casting a warm romantic glow across the entire scene.  

"Oh Harry...it's gorgeous!" You breathed out in wonder, tugging him forward eagerly. "We have to get a better look!"

Harry chuckled indulgently behind you but hurried to keep pace as you practically dragged him along. The sound of your breathless laughter and happy footfalls filled the intimate little enclosure, echoing back from the dark trees surrounding you.   

When you reached the apex of the bridge, you turned to face Harry with eyes shining brilliantly and smile beaming. A few loose tendrils of hair had escaped their soft updo to feather around your flushed cheeks. You looked utterly radiant in the ethereal lighting.

"Thank you for tonight," you sighed out, slipping your fingers through the soft hair at his nape. "It's been...everything I could have dreamed honestly."

Harry gazed at you with undisguised reverence, hands settling at the dip of your waist as he slowly pulled you flush against him.

"The pleasure has been all mine, I can assure you. Every second with you has been magical...you're magical, Y/N."

Then his mouth was slanting hotly over yours in a searing, drugging kiss. You melted into his strong embrace with a soft moan, fingers tightening against his silken locks. Harry's tongue swiped across the seam of your lips in a blatant request for deeper exploration that you instantly granted.  

One broad palm pressed insistently into the curve of your lower back, arching your body even further into his solid heat. The rasp of his stubble abraded your skin deliciously as his mouth moved with skilled insistence against yours. You could taste the lingering notes of the rich Cabernet from dinner alongside his own uniquely masculine essence.

Only when your lungs were screaming for air did Harry finally tear away, foreheads pressed together as you both panted harshly. His eyes were dark as sin, heavy-lidded and smoldering in the low light.

"God, I've been wanting to do that from the first moment I saw you with paint on your nose," he confessed in a low rasp. "Nearly drove me mad, you were so bloody gorgeous."

Shivering at the rough timbre trickling down your spine, you nipped at his jawline playfully. "Is that so, Mr. Styles? I'll have to make sure to wear more paint around you in the future then."

Harry growled out a dark chuckle, flexing his fingers against your waist in a possessive squeeze. "You ought to be careful, sweetheart. This alpha has been on his best behavior...but only for so long."

Your mouth went dry at the heated promise in his words, desire throbbing through you like a physical force. Before you could even think to respond, Harry ducked in to capture you in another mind-melting embrace, this one deeper and more demanding than the last.  

For long, hysterical moments, all conscious thought faded into a swirl of roaming hands and twining tongues. You could hardly tell where he began and you ended, your very essence tangling and melding most divinely.  

"Y/N," Harry gritted out in a low, strained tone, pulling fractionally back. The stark hunger ravaging his expression would have stolen your breath away if his searing kisses hadn't already accomplished that.  

"Yes?" You exhaled his name back like a respectful sigh.

Those mossy green irises you loved so dearly blazed into yours with naked yearning.  

"Let me take you home."

***

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[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 009 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

c/w. 18+. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. very suggestive. toxic relationships. unedited. kiyoomi is horny. and uh suna too

notes. we are in kiyoomi arccc whewww, also i think i mentioned the word balls like three times. anyways.

wc. 10.8k

series masterlist 

[ NINE ] i know a place, it’s somewhere I go when I need to remember your face. we get married in our heads, something to do while we try to recall how we met

You were still reeling from your shock by the time your Mother showed up beside you. She must have noticed the quite interesting crowd of the royals and their parents, and couldn’t wait to indulge in the drama. A nosy creature, your mother was, but her presence comforted you. You had heard about it before – the tradition of having your last dance on your debutante ball would be your destined lover. Your mother would know; your father was her last dance. But you couldn’t remember it clearly, not when your only memory of your debut ball was the sinking dread of coming out into society and having to be removed from the comfort of your bedroom.

“My last dance,” you mused, plastering an apologetic smile as you turned to the older Prince. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I hadn’t known it was you.”

“As I’ve mentioned, I am the Forgotten Prince.”

Kanami ignored her son’s remark and clapped her hands. “It was a beautiful last dance as well. In fact, I’m certain your Mother remembers it.”

“I do! Oh, Princess, Miss Sakusa is right. I still remember that first time you danced with one of the Princes! It was magical!”

“It must be,” quipped Suna, who possessively wrapped an arm around your waist. He was close enough you could feel his breath on the nape of your neck, and even without looking at him, you could tell he was glaring at his brother.  “Kiyoomi is a fantastic dancer. But tradition aside, fate sure has a funny way of working out because I wasn’t her last dance, yet she married me. I am a lucky Prince for that.”

“You weren’t even at her debut ball,” mumbled the Second Prince, causing your eyes to nearly pop out your head.

You knew it was rare for royals to attend the birthday balls of even noble families, but finding out that your husband hadn’t danced with you on your special night was a different kind of hurt.

“The Crown Prince is a lucky man, indeed,” sighed Kanami dreamily, unaware of the tension between you four – with the brothers ready to tear at each other’s throat, and Iris’ smile slowly transforming into a grimace. An eventful night, indeed. “So, Your Highness, any thoughts on my invitation?”

You didn’t give it a second thought.

“I would love to visit Itachiyama, Kanami.”

“Splendid! Oh, come, come, we have much to talk about!” she stole you away despite your husband’s protests, and soon, you were led away from the crowd. It was all up to your Mother to hold Rintaro back. Glancing back at your husband worriedly, all the worries faded away. Because he wasn’t even looking at you, but rather at Iris, who clutched her head and murmured something while Rintaro fretted over her. The only person who looked at you was Prince Kiyoomi, his handsome face stoic while his mother yapped in your ear.

“You have no idea how happy you’ve made this old woman.”

You turned away from her son’s intense gaze, waving a dismissive hand in the hair. “Please. You are hardly old. I can only hope I look as good as you at that age.”

“Dear, you flatter me too much!”

Smiling at her cuteness, you glanced around the room to look at her again. It seemed like she knew she would be the tonight’s topic, as the Princess’ red lips flattened into a thin line. You almost had the urge to smile wickedly. Almost, if she hadn’t been leaning against your husband for support. You wanted to scoff. She really had the audacity to pretend she was the poor one here – and because of what? Because her mother in law disapproved of her?

She had everything already. She had your husband’s heart, and you couldn’t even keep his attention on you for longer than ten minutes.

The Princess needed to stop acting like a kicked puppy. Otherwise, you would truly give in to the desire to kick her until she whined and cried at your feet.

Gods. Since when had you been so violent?

“As much as I am looking forward to our trip, however, I cannot help but wonder why you seemed… against Princess Iris,” you voiced your thoughts out, feigning innocence. “I am only assuming, of course. I do not mean to say you hold any animosity towards Her Highness.”

“You are not wrong. I do hold some ‘animosity’ towards her,” chuckled the free-mouthed Kanami, almost as if she didn’t care anyone could hear. She was too laid-back for a foreign guest, but you supposed with her wealth and fame, along with the fact she was the biological mother of the Second Prince, her confidence made sense. “I am well aware it is wrong, and I could be gravely punished for speaking ill about the royals, but… I never quite liked her for my son. They were never a great fit.”

“Is it because he is older?”

“Pssh. The age gap hardly matters. He is only three years older. But there is something about Iris… something… off. I mean, I know my place. It is not like I married the King or was promised any security or titles when I birthed his son, but I am still his mother, and surely I have the right to care about his future. That includes who he marries, and quite frankly, I dislike his wife. She seems ingenuine.”

“How so?”

Kanami’s cheeks puckered out. “Well, imagine my shock when my son – who spends most of his time hiding away in his room with his nose buried in a book – suddenly becomes a husband in a fortnight! And to her, no less. It is all too suspicious, I tell you. I have never heard nice things about that girl and her mother.”

“Her mother was an honorable and loyal follower of the Crown. Despite being from Itachiyama, they pledged their lives to the Crown.”

“Which is odd in itself, because Itachiyama is a great country. We are peaceful, and if there are issues within the people, it is resolved immediately. So that whole sham of a story of her mother ‘defecting’ and moving here for a better life sounds unbelievable,” she shook her head, lowering her voice as she hid her lips behind her palm. “And I know her mother. Kate. She has always been ambitious, scarily so.”

“And you know this because…?”

“Because years ago, when His Majesty visited Itachiyama, I was not the one who meant to end up in his bed,” she admitted with a wince, “Kate had always set her sights on greater things. If she couldn’t be his wife, she could be his concubine, at the very least. And oh, His Majesty was smitten with her. She was a wonderful performer, and they shared too many drinks, but… Well, I, myself, am lost on what happened next. The King and I conversed the whole night, and I felt a spark, you know?”

Your head spun with all this information. You always knew the Royal Family Tree was a mess, thanks to the late King’s trysts with multiple women. But hearing about the history of it all caused your head to ache.

“I see. And that night, Kiyoomi was conceived.”

“He was. And Kate never spoke to me again. Next thing I know, I heard she moved to Inarizaki, and I figured she still hadn’t given up on the King. So when my son informed he was now married to Kate’s daughter, I was restless. I am most certain this had to be her doing.”

“Where is she now? Iris’ mother?”

“I don’t know,” she blinked, as if realizing this now, too. “She disappeared one day, and each time I asked Iris how her mother was faring, she’d stop speaking completely.”

“Perhaps she is not on good terms with her mother and is uncomfortable about the topic.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed, and then tilted her head to the side, a smirk on her pretty face. “Is it rude of me to say I wish my son married you instead? I know you are smitten with your Prince, but a mother can hope, can she not?”

The rest of the night, Miss Sakusa terrorized the guests. It was uncanny seeing how different she was to her son, who barely spoke a word. She was bright and lively, lived for sarcasm, and seemed to have a penchant for making Iris uncomfortable. You honestly would’ve felt bad if you didn’t agree to the mean things Kanami said about her. But that aside, you still couldn’t move over the fact that Iris was a huge contrast to Maiko. Maiko and Oikawa’s marriage, you understood. She came from an influential noble family, and so did Tooru. But who was Iris, exactly? How exactly did a citizen from Itachiyama, without a father and a mysterious, greedy mother end up being married to a Prince also in line for the crown?

Could it be that Kanami was right? Did Iris’ mother plan all of this – all to have a spot in the throne? If it was true, then you couldn’t cross out the possibility Iris may have seduced Rintaro when they were teenagers. He was the Crown Prince, for goodness’ sake. There was no quicker ticket to the throne than to have the rightful heir be smitten with you.

All this thinking wasn’t good for the night.

You were supposed to enjoy, and so you stole a glass when a servant passed and down the drink, uncaring if people thought it to be ungraceful for a Princess. It was an intimate gathering, anyway, with only the royal family and some of your closest friends and relatives. Surely they would understand you needed to loosen up.

Breaking free from Kanami, who had now taken her attentions to fixing Kiyoomi’s unruly curls, you watched as your Mother stood in front of the podium. She tapped the bread knife against her class, the clinking sound catching everyone’s attention. When she had them, your mother took a deep breath, searching for you in the crowd as a smile lit up her face.

You stiffened in your seat. Beside you, Rintaro took his place, his hand snaking down to rest on your thigh.

“I would like to thank everyone who graced us with their presence tonight,” your mother began, raising her glass in the air. “And I would like a toast in honor of Her Highness’ marriage, and to the Crown Prince, as well. I wish you both nothing but happiness and may you reign supreme.”

“To the Prince and Princess!” cheered the crowd. Feeling everyone’s eyes on you, you leaned back against Rintaro’s chest and smiled, the perfect image of a couple in love. Rintaro played the part, too, squeezing your thigh and pressing a kiss on the curve of your cheek. You let out a giggle – though it sounded more like a gurgle at the shock. Rintaro chuckled at your reaction, his chest vibrating with the sound.

You couldn’t deal with this anymore.

The night went from perfect to messed up, to you being slapped in the face with reality. You felt bad for yourself for not learning. Just because your husband danced with you, and he’d been perfect the past few days, didn’t mean he wouldn’t run to Iris if given the chance. You’d seen it with your own eyes. How if stuck in a situation where he was forced to choose between the two, he would choose her. And it was pathetic. You had his ring on your finger. You had the burden of his crown and title on your shoulders when all you ever wanted was love. And he couldn’t even give you that. Worse, he meant none of it.

How was it so easy for him to laugh and kiss you like it was the most normal thing in the world when both of you knew deep down he did not want you?

It was becoming unbearable. You needed to leave. Now.

Prying yourself off his grasp, you ducked. “Excuse me.” Rintaro couldn’t get the chance to speak when you darted past him and into the restroom. There, you heard the racing of your heart loud and clear – a song of both yearning and hurt lingering deep in your bones. You couldn’t understand it – not when you glanced at your reflection in the mirror and wondered… why not me? You were beautiful. You were educated. Surely, he must have seen good qualities in you if he chose to court you for two years when there were other more charismatic bachelorettes out there. Or… did he choose you because he knew you were inexperienced? Because you were lonely, shy, and therefore the easiest to manipulate?

The worst part of it all was that he had already made his intentions clear. You knew he loved her. You saw it in his eyes – the way his eyes drooped when he spoke about her, and his voice grew softer. How he yearned for her so badly talking about her hurt. But Maiko had given you false hope, and his sweet gestures didn’t help. This would all be easier if he hurt you, like he had back at your honeymoon, because then at least you would have a greater reason to hate him.

And that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?

To turn all this love into hate.

So letting him go would be easier. Although it never was.

Gripping the edge of the sink, you forced yourself to take deep breaths. Breathe in, breathe out. Count from one to eight with your eyes closed and focus only on the sensation of your lungs expanding and retracting. Do not think about him, do not think about his kisses, or his hand on your thigh, or how he called you beautiful –

“So this is where you were.”

You raised your head. Rintaro swung the door open, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you inquisitively. You both stared at each other like that for a moment, letting all the unspoken words just hang in the air until he broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, sounding defeated. And this time, it sounded like he meant it.  “You know I don’t wish to lie to your parents like that.”

You shrugged, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on your face. It became harder to breathe when he was around – all handsome and every bit the piece of your greatest desire.

“It’s just another night we have to see the end of.”

“Are you really going to Itachiyama?” he craned his head, eyes narrowed. “I cannot accompany you.”

“I did not ask you to.”

“I know, but,” he tried to argue, crossing the distance in three long strides. Just like the other night at the Palace hallway, his large frame engulfed you, trapping you between him and the sink. With him this close, you could see the unmasked desperation written all over his face. The frustration. “It’s… it’s Kiyoomi. I am uncomfortable knowing you would be spending days with him. Alone, at that. At least take someone with you.”

“My maids are coming.”

“I do not mean the maids.”

“Then who should I bring? His precious wife?” you rolled your eyes, “In case you weren’t aware, she isn’t invited either.”

“She should be…”

You couldn’t stop yourself from planting your palms in his chest, and gave him a shove. Your stupid husband, all lean with muscle, barely budged. It irritated you further. “Oh, come on, Your Highness. Do not act like this inconveniences you. I will be away for days, and so is your lover’s husband. The two people standing in your way will be out of your hair. Shouldn’t you be rejoicing in delight? No better time to frolic around with your lover when your wife and her husband aren’t around.”

Rintaro’s jaw clenched.

“You are saying I should be happy my wife is going on vacation with another man.”

“It sounds to me like you are afraid of your own shadow,” you mocked, and Rintaro flinched back. He hadn’t expected the harsh truth of your words would pierce this deep. “I am not an adulterer, my Prince. It has never once occurred to me to seduce someone else when I am married. Besides, Iris seemed rather relieved at the prospect of having you all by herself for a week,” you reminded him, having seen the Princess’ newfound relief only moments after Kanami had announced you would be having a trip with her son. It made you want to laugh. “You should enjoy, my Prince. You can even fuck in our bedroom.”

Whatever distance he previously put between you disappeared.

Rintaro growled, slamming his chest into yours until there was nothing but your clothes separating you. He shook with fury, and you delighted in it. How you could provoke this reaction from him. And you laughed, or tried to, because all the noises you made got swallowed in your throat when Rintaro grabbed your throat. Not tight enough to choke you, but the pressure served as a warning. Swiping his thumb on your lower lip, Rintaro huffed.

“Every day you test my patience. I think I rather preferred you when you were more malleable.”

“Sounds like you married the wrong person, then,” you spat out, and Rintaro’s dark chuckle reverberated in the empty space of the room.

“Oh, I made no mistake choosing you, that I assure. You are perfect in my eyes, whether you believe it or not,” and sooner than you liked, your husband was off of you again. But he was still close enough that his fingers intertwined with yours, the touch shockingly gentle despite his apparent anger with you. “And because you are my perfect wife, and my Princess, we will go back out there with all smiles and laughter. We are to appear in love. Do you understand?”

You glared up at him defiantly.

“Fuck you, Rintaro.”

Your husband smirked. “Darling, I wish you would.”

You began packing for your trip to Itachiyama. It wasn’t supposed to be for another three days, since Kanami still had work and wanted to be free by the time you and Kiyoomi arrived, but after everything that happened between you and Rintaro, you were eager to leave. After that dreadful night at the ball where he forced you to hold his hand the entire time, your legs felt uncomfortable with slick.

As shameful as it was to admit, you hadn’t expected your husband’s anger would make you feel things. Sinful things that led you to sneaking your hands down your thighs when you got home. And by the Gods, you bit your lip so hard to not scream his name when he was just in the other room.

Another moment spent with him was just pure torture. So, you were running away.

It wasn’t the bravest thing to do, but you already tried braving it all, only to fail spectacularly. You were still weak around him, and until you managed enough strength to actually pretend you didn’t care about Rintaro, the distance sounded like bliss. Even if your husband eventually supported you in this trip, because ‘he can finally spend more time with Iris.’ Right. You wanted him to be happy about this, but heavens, couldn’t he act a little less eager to have you gone?

You think you would lose it if he truly fucked her in your bed.

“Call me when you get there,” Rintaro’s voice drifted through the wind, and you swallowed. You were now at the airport, and he stood there below the staircase, hands shoved in his pockets. Your heart ached at the sight of him – so handsome with the wind messing up his hair, his cheeks just slighty flushed from the cold, and his lips plump and swollen still from the farewell kiss he gave you. It was all just an act, of course, since there must be some lingering paparazzi, but you still felt him. You could still taste the mint of his toothpaste on your tongue, his strawberry candy lingering at your taste buds.

But of course, he didn’t love you.

You felt the lack of that, too.

“I’ll see you,” was all you said before turning around, already looking inside the plane and spotting Kiyoomi.

He sat on the seat across from you, his eyes closed with music playing in his headphones. He looked so peaceful like this. For once, he wasn’t frowning, and it was then that nervousness settled in you as you awkwardly shifted in your seat. You still weren’t quite too fond of the Second Prince – his dry remarks always baffled you. He always left you wondering if you should laugh it off, or if you should apologize. If not that, his silence itself was completely unsettling. And when he opened his eyes, his body as still as water when he regarded you, you were certain you stopped breathing.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh. Oh, yes. I am.”

The Prince nods, looking outside the window. You did, too, and then regretted it when you caught sight of Iris and Rintaro outside the limos, huddled together for warmth. To other people’s eyes, it would just be two people waving goodbye to their spouses as they left. But you and Kiyoomi knew better.

Wriggling back to make himself more comfortable in his seat, Kiyoomi turned up the volume in his phone. “Well, this is going to be fun.”

You wished you could agree.

When you woke, you had arrived in Itachiyama. It was only a forty-five minute flight, but you dozed off nonetheless, and when you did, Kiyoomi had already wrapped a blanket around you. You thanked the silent Prince for it, but he made no gesture to say whether he heard you or not. He was a gentleman, at least. Holding your hand as you made your way down the plane, opening the doors for you into his car, and offering you drinks as the driver headed to Kiyoomi’s farmhouse.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with my mother. She can be quite persuasive.”

You looked back at Kiyoomi. You had been staring at all the billboards of Kanami; commercial ads, movie promotions, and the like. It stunned you again how this loud and flashy woman was the mother of a silent, brooding man. Even now, he had himself glued to his seat, adamant to put distance between you both with his arms crossed against his chest. “I was delighted by her invitation,” you tell him, glancing outside the windows again at another huge billboard of Kanami eating local ramen noodles. ‘MUST TRY!’ it was captioned, and they colored her cheeks red from the spicy flavor. You chuckled. “Wow. She really is everywhere.”

Kiyoomi followed your gaze. “She’s Itachiyama’s darling,” he shrugged, and then leant forward until his elbows rested on his knees. Sheepish wasn’t a word you would use to describe the Second Prince, but he definitely looked like it right now. “I must let you know, my mother didn’t invite you to visit just because she felt like it. She… well, she wanted you to somehow see Itachiyama as your home.”

“But I already have a home.”

“Yes, but she is fond of you, and she’s delusional that you should’ve been married to me,” he scratched his cheek, purposefully avoiding your gaze. Then, his cheeks flushed red, and you felt heat crawling on your neck at the implication of his words. “Sorry. That was awkward.”

“It’s fine. You are a great man, so it’s not like being married to you sounds entirely bad.”

“Definitely beats being married to my brother.”

“I guess so,” you chuckled, expelling any thoughts of being married to Kiyoomi instead. It wasn’t such a bad thing, to be honest. He was tall, handsome, and respectful. All of the Princess were good-looking in their own ways, but Prince Kiyoomi held the type of regal beauty that you would have oil portraits of hanging on the entrance of your home. He was large, stood tall and imposing, but never did he actually make you feel small or irrelevant. And even with his mysterious and silent demeanor, his intimidating features did little to hide his humble and bashful nature underneath. Which you found adorable, but you would never say it out loud. Instead, you watched as a crowd gathered in the middle of the city. Children ran around laughing, and parents bought trinkets from the stalls set up at the edge of the road.

“What is that?”

“A culture festival. They hold it annually around this time of the year to welcome autumn and give thanks for prosperous harvests. It’s called Kōyō no Matsuri, or ‘Festival of the Changing Leaves.’ It lasts about eight days where the farmers come together and celebrate.”

Unable to contain your excitement, you pressed your palms against the window. “I heard about this from the Crown Prince. Something about Itachiyama being one of the main suppliers of harvest and livestock?”

“We’re mostly a farmer country, whilst Inarizaki is the more advanced and modern one. It’s mostly to do with how our terrain is just richer in natural riches, while Inarizaki boasts in academics and politics,” he informed, “On the third day of the festival, the farmers visit some shrines to offer thanks for their harvest, and on the fifth day, they gather around the old temples and castles before Itachiyama and Inarizaki were split into two.”

“Wow. I hadn’t known your country would be so rich with history.”

“Technically, both countries share the same history. They just took separate paths at the end of it all.”

Pushing yourself off from the window, the driver drove past from the festival commotion until more trees surrounded you. You figured you’d left the city and now travelled somewhere more remote – fitting for where Kiyoomi lived.

“Do you like it better here?”

“Yes. It’s much quieter, and here, people don’t care too much on how I’m supposed to act as a Prince. I’m not their Prince, after all. I’m just a half-blood who happened to be their spokesperson.”

Something about his tone told you there was more he wanted to say, but chose not to. You pondered over it – how the Princes were so different. Some loved their titles and basked in their wealth, while some took their duties seriously to serve their people better. And then there was Rintaro, who was nearly crushed by the pressure to become better than Ushijima, and Kiyoomi… Kiyoomi, who remains an enigma to you. From what you heard about the Second Prince, people called him lazy, rarely attending meetings and showing up only when needed. It made you wonder how he was like as a little boy, who probably just wanted to live normally and in quiet, but because he was a Prince, he had to become someone else entirely.

Letting it go, you decided to change the topic. You were certain the Prince would share more with you about himself when he was ready.

“Your Highness, I would love to attend the festival.”

“Really?” his brows raised, and your eyes caught the motion of his vertical moles following the movement. “I mean, you can, but there would be lots of people. Wouldn’t you rather rest?”

“I’ve been doing nothing but rest the past few days. It would be nice to go out and do something. Besides, I wish to know more about your people.” And you meant it. You were barely a few hours in Itachiyama, but it already reminded you of the peaceful Greenville where you were raised. Itachiyama was starting to feel like home, like Kanami hoped.

Across you, you remained unaware of the Prince’s soft smile.

“I see. I shall take you to the festival tonight.”

Seeing as Kanami still had her schedule filled, you and Kiyoomi had the rest of the day to yourselves until she returned. His mother did his best to welcome you, though, even in her absence. When you arrived at Kiyoomi’s farmhouse, she had already left you a bouquet of roses and a handwritten card telling you how happy she was her ‘daughter’ was now in her home country. It made your heart soften, even more so when she lent you a black-and-yellow floral yukata for tonight’s festival.

“You look nice,” Kiyoomi commented when you descended from the stairs, some flower pins in your hair. Overall, you felt pretty. It felt nice to be out of corsets and long-sleeved dresses. You could tell Kiyoomi approved too, as his eyes lit up, but his lips remained the same with an impassive expression. Offering his arm, you gladly took it, letting him lead you out and into the awaiting chauffeur. “Did my mother tell you to wear that?”

“She did. She said it would be more appropriate to wear traditional clothing fitting for the festival,” you gave a little twirl, and Kiyoomi’s lips curled by the slightest. It was enough to make you happy, and you were practically bouncing in your seat as the city lights came into view. Kiyoomi’s farmhouse rested on the countryside; surrounded by nothing but hills and endless amounts of grass. Signal couldn’t reach there, too, so you left your phone behind.

Tonight, you would simply enjoy this trip.

“Do you attend often?”

“When I can, yes, but… It’s a rather intimate celebration for the farmers, and I feel like I don’t do much for them, so I mostly sit out at home.”

“But you are a farmer, too, aren’t you?”

His eyes narrowed, but the reddening of his ears told you it was more of embarrassment. “Who told you that?”

“Your mother,” you chuckled. Once you’d arrived at the city, and the driver had parked somewhere else, you looped your arm around Kiyoomi’s and ventured into the heart of thefestival. “And I’m not stupid – you live in a farmhouse and have your own barn. I just never thought you would be the nature type.”

“There are lots you don’t know about me.”

“I can always learn.”

Kiyoomi’s gaze casted downwards. You couldn’t read his expression; he was always so guarded. But before you could contemplate on it further, you were swept up in the festivities. Everyone around you wore a yukata, and young couples held hands while wearing matching bracelets. Kiyoomi had told you those bracelets were special only for this festival, that the symbol of the moon was to pay respects to the Heavens for the blessings they bestow. Parents also joined in the night, with their children eating caramelized apples, and other candies. Mostly, the stalls offered food from their harvests such as roasted chestnuts, rice cakes, and pumpkin dishes. There was such a strong sense of community within the people that you were overwhelmed – Inarizaki didn’t feel as homely as Itachiyama.

An hour later, your stomach was well beyond full. You’d tasted and tried everything the farmers and their wives made. And when they saw the delighted way you closed your eyes and moaned at the delicacies, they offered you more and more. Kiyoomi paid for everything despite your protests, saying he was the host, and your only job for tonight was to enjoy.

Well, you surely wouldn’t complain.

Once you’d eaten your fill, and purchased a fox mask that matched your yukata, a group of young men started banging their drums. A woman played her flute effortlessly even behind her crow mask. Beside her, more people in matching crow masks sang in a foreign language. It sounded like a serenade; something about the voices were sweet, calling out to you like you were being seduced, and the hypnotic beats of the drum made your hips sway. But the most shocking part of it all was when people began to join in and held their partners, bumping their masks as if they were kissing, their hands squeezing each other’s waists and chanting along to the song.

You were mesmerized.

“That’s the Harvesting Dance,” Kiyoomi whispered in your ear, “They dance in hopes to bring joy to the ancestral spirits for blessing them with good harvest this year.”

“Must it always be a man and a woman?”

“It’s… an intimate dance,” he struggled to let out, and you craned your head towards him. He’d bought himself a fox mask to match yours, claiming he’d feel more comfortable if people didn’t recognize him. “Like the union of man and woman, they have become one with the ancestral spirits. It’s a time for reconnecting to their old ways, and showing gratitude for the family they’ve been given. And, uhm…” he scratched the back of his ears, which had turned pinkish again, “Well, it’s not just about harvest, really. It is also a dance for fertile crops and fertile wombs.”

Realization dawned on you.

“Oh!”

“It is a newly married couple’s tradition to participate in the dance.”

You nodded at the information, feeling both flustered and entertained at the Prince’s bashfulness. You almost wanted to tease him more about it until you were dragged by a young woman, her male partner already waiting for her in the middle of the dance. She rotated her hips in a circle and jumped to the beat, head thrown back in laughter. You couldn’t help but laugh with her, too – her laugh was contagious, and Kiyoomi was right. There was a sense of freedom when people didn’t know who you were.

“You lovebirds! Don’t miss out on the dance, unless you want the ancestral spirits to take away your virility!”

“Oh, thank you, but–”

“You are newly married, are you not?”

“I am, but–”

“Then come dance so you may be blessed with many healthy offspring!”

Sending a halfhearted apologetic smile to Prince, you dragged him with you. You realized he couldn’t see you, exactly, but your eyes were crinkled enough from your joy. He grumbled a bit, but otherwise didn’t complain. When the music played again, you mimicked the locals’ movements and giggled so hard your stomach hurt. Some of the steps were suggestive – a flirty brush of your knuckles on Kiyoomi’s chest, or him rubbing his mask tenderly at the sensitive spot of your neck. Through it all, you had to remain connected to each other. It was hard to tell who held who tighter – Kiyoomi had his hands planted on your hips with a deliciously vice-tight grip, and the fronts of his kimono had been undone by your teasing, restless hands.

You now understood why the dance encouraged fertility. There was so much seduction with only just your bodies, with no words needing to be spoken. And you couldn’t help but wonder – is this the way to Kiyoomi’s heart? Because he is not the best with words, so you had to touch him at all the right places?

You received your answer when the drums came to a crescendo before immediately halting. Like a growing orgasm, until it exploded from within, and you found yourself pressed up against Kiyoomi’s. Pressed close enough that his breathing matched yours. His eyes, already dark, grew impossibly darker.

“That was fun!” you bumped your mask with his, breathing hard underneath. “Has anyone told you you’re a great dancer?”

The Prince snorted. “I would be surprised if I wasn’t. I spent the good half of my childhood enduring dance lessons, thanks to my mother.”

You laughed hard at that. Already, this was becoming one of the best nights of your life. Back in Inarizaki, you didn’t go out much to socialize. All the other unmarried ladies seemed to be well-versed in charismatic social skills and effortlessly landed a husband within months after their debut into society. You, on the other hand, having grown up as an only child with busy parents, had no one to talk to. You stuttered a lot, and always stumbled on your own thoughts when voicing them out loud. It truly was a surprise to everyone that the Crown Prince found you interesting – even if that seemed a lifetime ago.

But you supposed you really weren’t the same person anymore. Because if you were still the same shy, bumbling young woman from years ago, you wouldn’t be here in Itachiyama, laughing without a care in the world with a handsome Prince at your side. He’d bought you more trinkets, and another set to gift to your mother when you returned home. You found it incredibly sweet, but of course, Kiyoomi only grumbled in embarrassment when you told him about it.

By the time Kiyoomi’s arms were filled with shopping bags, the crowd began to lessen. It was getting late, yet you were in no hurry, walking at a snail’s pace along the closed roads.

Silently hoping this moment would last forever.

“Your homeland is beautiful, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” he said, and his brows furrowed deep in thought – as if hesitating. “They end tonight’s celebration with a Lantern Lighting Ceremony. Would you like to see?”

Your jaw dropped. Can this night get any better?

“I would love to!”

Since some of Kiyoomi and your security were still discreetly following, he handed them the bags before leading you away from the roads and near a lake, just beside the heart of the city. There, floating hydrangeas decorated the water, looking like it came out of a painting. Lanterns were already being lit up from where you stood – some with a rented wooden boat, and the rest content to just remaining in the concrete pavement, their hands weaved together as they mumbled themselves.

You turned to Kiyoomi in question. “It works like a birthday wish,” he explained, politely bowing to the old man who sold lanterns and match sticks. “You say your greatest desire, and then you let go of the lantern. The ancestral spirits will hear of your prayer and grant it to you.”

Doing as he said, you close your eyes. You could hear Kiyoomi lighting the match as he lit up the lantern, and you wished for more of this – more joyful, peaceful nights. It seemed like a simple wish, but with your current predicament, you had to jump at any chance of luck you could get. After all, you would have to leave Itachiyama someday. Your life wasn’t always going to be like this – of dances, of candied apples, of lighting lanterns and simply feeling alive. Because you knew once you returned home, reality would set in. So you prayed, and desperately wished, to experience happiness.

Satisfied, you cracked your eyes open, beaming at how the golden lantern burned even brighter in Kiyoomi’s large hands. Seriously, his hands were so big and his fingers long he almost encompassed the entire paper globe. However, he only had his eyes on you, his expression somber and lips tight – almost as if he knew you had wished for something impossible, and he, too, wanted your wish to come true.

“Did you wish for anything?”

“No.” He shook his head, “I already have everything I could need. The farmers need the prayers more than I do.” Again, you were stunned by the Prince’s thoughtfulness. He turned to you to ask if you were ready to let go of the lantern, and you nodded, the both of you watching as it soared up high in the sky – the dark night decorated with a hundred little lanterns like stars rising from the lake.

It was pure magic.

“Whatever it is you wished for,” Kiyoomi mumbled, “I hope it will come true.”

Your lips wobbled. “I hope so too.”

He nodded, feeling awkward once more, and you nearly laughed. The Prince clearly wasn’t great at dealing with genuine emotions. “Are you tired? We can return home already.”

“I’d like to walk on the way back to the car. I don’t want the night to end just yet.”

Kiyoomi wasn’t against your idea. You shared the silence in peace, gratitude and pure, unabashed happiness blooming from within your chest. You suddenly missed your mother; wishing you could’ve taken her with you. She would’ve loved it here. She would shamelessly do the Harvesting Dance with your father, because they were still enamored with one another even after years of marriage. They were the reason you believed in true love and hoped to have it for yourself. But alas, fate had different plans for you.

It had made you fall in love with the wrong person and made you a Princess in the aftermath.

Sneaking a glance at Kiyoomi, you noticed he’d already taken off his mask. His handsome features were bathed in the moonlight, making him look even more ethereal than he already was. His features, strong, and dark, and sharp, yet his lips were curved so softly, his dark eyes nothing but tender and patient.

He held none of the malice or greed the other Princes had.

“Do you enjoy being Prince, Your Highness?” you blurted after a while, because talking seemed to be the better option than ogling at his beauty. No, you couldn’t do that. You were both married to someone else – and you would rather lose your title than be unfaithful like Rintaro.

Rintaro. Just the thought of his name soured your mood.

“Not quite,” he admitted, “It isn’t as grand as it sounds. There are lots of things to do, and a myriad of rules to follow. But I still think this responsibility bestowed on me is an honor. After all, not everyone has the privilege to be born with a purpose. Many people spend the rest of their lives looking for it, but mine was handed in a silver platter.”

“Hm. I never thought of it that way. I… I always thought you hated being Prince.”

“I do not despite it, but neither do I like it.”

“What would you be doing, then, if you were born as a commoner?”

He side eyed you, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. “Farming.”

You both laughed. Of course that was his answer. “Why am I not surprised by that?”

“What about you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and briefly glancing at the fat, extravagant ring on your finger. The sight of it made him wince, but he schooled his face into impassiveness before you could think about it. In return, you searched for his wedding ring too, frowning upon the realization he hadn’t worn it. “What would you be doing if you hadn’t married my brother?”

“Hmm… Managing the household… learning the business, although if you ask me, I really would have wanted to get married, regardless if it was to a royal or not. In fact, I never even dreamt of being a Princess. It just never seemed to be possible for me.”

“You’re a great Princess,” he commended, and that warmth blooming in your chest had fully sparked. “Who would you have married, then?”

“Anyone who loved me and cherished me,” you scrunched up your nose, feeling bashful. “I am quite the simpleton, aren’t I?”

“There is nothing wrong with wanting simple things.”

His words held nothing but sincerity. Coming from a Prince who didn’t indulge in the lavishness he could have with his life, and opted for farming instead, you believed him. And it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulder, like a breath you’d been holding had been released. Kiyoomi was like a breath of fresh air. He was so different from his brothers – so detached from the crown, yet so connected to the world and its humble gifts. Kita was different, too, but he held a sharp edge to him. He wielded his intelligence and knowledge like a weapon, because living anywhere near the throne was a battle in itself, but Kiyoomi was just… different.

In a world of polished gems, he shone brightly as a raw diamond.

“Your Highness, I… I know most of royal marriages are arranged, and rarely does it happen out of love, but why Iris? You are the second Prince. Anyone of you could have had anyone you wanted, and Iris didn’t seem wealthy or influential enough to be a royal spouse candidate. Why her?”

“Because she’s from Itachiyama.”

“That’s it?”

Kiyoomi licked his lips, thinking about his answer before he spoke them. “You are aware I’m the only son with a foreign mother. When I was born, they saw potential in me, to possibly unite the two territories into one again. But I was aloof, and liked to keep to myself, so I lacked in that department. When Iris had been presented to the Queen by her mother and they pledged their loyalty to the throne, she was made a royal scholar,” he glanced at you, gauging for your reaction. “You are right that she isn’t anyone’s first choice to be a Prince’s wife. She comes from a common family with nothing to her name. But she is intelligent, and she has always shown dedication to the throne. That was enough to convince the Queen we were the most sensible pair.”

“And is it working? Are we being united to your homeland?”

“No. Iris has barely stepped foot in Itachiyama,” This time, Kiyoomi turned away from you and licked his lips. “She mostly does work at the Palace.”

“Because Rintaro is there?”

“Precisely.” You knew he would answer that, but the image popping in your head was unkind – of Iris and Rintaro making love to one another while you weren’t around.

“Do you love her? Or hold affection for her, in the very least?”

“Not at all. I never wanted to marry, and my opinion of her hasn’t changed since we married,” the determination in his voice surprised you, a hardness settling over his features. “Royal marriages are always done with a political purpose, Princess. It was, and never will be, out of love.”

The conversation died at that. You didn’t press further, either, because you knew Kiyoomi hadn’t said those words to hurt you. He only meant to remind you. And you were thankful, because he chose to be honest, albeit cruelly, when everyone else made you a fool – a weak fool who had to be fed lies because people believed you wouldn’t be able to stomach the truth. Perhaps they were right, perhaps you were weak, but Kiyoomi didn’t look at you like that. He only looked at you like he despised everyone for even lying, or keeping secrets, and he’d made it his mission to be truthful.

Truly, your unexpected friendship with the Prince had been the greatest gift.

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Your Highness,” you bowed to him, quite ready to retreat back into the guest room once you’d reached his farmhouse.

“It was my pleasure,” he returned the bow, yet remained frozen at the bottom of the staircase, tongue darting out to lick at his lower lip nervously. “Oh, and Princess? Would you… come and like to meet my horses tomorrow? I think you would like them.”

Somehow, the thought of Kiyoomi introducing his horses to you, and nerding out about them, put a smile on your face. Getting to know the Princes was like unwrapping a gift – you never know if you would like what was inside. But you most definitely liked Kiyoomi, and you remained true to your word that you would learn everything about him. His horses, his history, the contents of his heart, and every inch of his farmhouse and barn if he would let you.

“I would love to.”

You couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bed.

Today’s events still played on your mind like a loop. The festivities, the freedom that came with anonymity, the connection of the citizens to their culture and history – you realized they were so different from Inarizaki. Inarizaki had its great parts, too, like their dedication to the monarchy and the power they held. It was a country known for having many scholars as the academe was greatly funded by the monarchs, but somehow it always felt… detached. Detached from nature, detached from the basic aspects of humanity.

Inarizaki cared about greatness, and so did its people. It was the sole reason why they had such strict customs and adhered to the law like their life depended on it. Itachiyama was different. They weren’t the most advanced – their buildings not as tall, their country mostly surrounded by beaches or forests, with their people preferring the old ways. Yet somehow, you felt more at home here.

It reminded you of Greenville and summers spent chasing dragonflies and lying on the grass to sunbathe.

It reminded you of a childhood long gone.

Sighing to yourself, you slipped out of the covers. The clock read it was just quarter past two am. Kiyoomi’s staff were already asleep, and you were certain each footstep you took would cause the floorboards to creak. Still, there was only so little you could do in your room. The TV didn’t have cable, Kiyoomi wasn’t interested in having Wi-Fi, and the place was rather empty of anything that could entertain you.

Surely a little exploring wouldn’t hurt, though. Slipping your arms into your robe, you tied it around your waist and exited your room. The hallways were dark and empty, and you held your breath, tiptoeing around the halls. You didn’t know why you were so nervous to be caught. It wasn’t like you were doing something wrong, although you did look suspicious turning every knob and groaning when none opened.

What was the point of all these rooms if you couldn’t enter them?

Walking around, you studied every bit of Kiyoomi’s farmhouse. It was grand in size, and nothing about the chandeliers and marble floors were the least bit modest, but it felt homey. There were knick-knacks everywhere, messy childhood paintings and poorly drawn stick-figures hung up on the wall. Upon closer look, you saw Tobio and Tooru scribbled upon the drawings. Smiling to yourself, you took it all greedily – the lack of family pictures replaced by these artworks, the fresh flowers with Kanami’s name tagged on a card lovingly taken care of, and a single portrait of Kanami with a younger Kiyoomi on her lap.

You could imagine how once in the past, the brothers spent many nights in this house, ran around chasing each other with their high-pitched squeals.

They were boys before they became Princes.

They were brothers before they were rivals.

Your hands reached out for the drawings. Even Shinsuke’s was there, and to no one’s surprise, his was the best. The colors were always within the lines, and he had clean, smooth strokes of his brush. Keiji’s was second best, but his looked more like scribbles and sketches than a polished end result. Ushijima didn’t have any drawings, but a certain stick figure drawing from a little Tobio counted eight brothers holding hands. ‘Brothers forever’, he scrawled underneath, causing your heart to ache.

He hadn’t included Rintaro in the picture.

Letting go of the drawings with a frown, you took a step back and collided with something solid. You gasped, a scream nearly torn out your throat when you studied the figure now standing in front of you. Broad shouldered, with unruly curls surrounding his face, and his head tilted to the side in confusion – Prince Kiyoomi looked like a dream come true. One shouldn’t look this ethereal in the dark hallways of his house, with nothing but the moonlight slipping through the glass windows illuminating the sharpness of his cheekbones.

He stood so still and quiet you couldn’t hear him breathe. Had he been here for a while?

You placed a hand to calm your racing heart. “Your Highness. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d still be awake.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbles, looking past you and to the drawings just as his brows pinched together. “I didn’t know you’d be awake, too. Is your room not to your liking?”

“Oh, no, no, it is. I’m just…”

“Feeling homesick?”

“Not quite,” you scrunched your nose, “Today was just amazing. I’m still reeling from the joy of it all.”

He nodded, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You watched him have an inner debate before he nodded again, gesturing to the staircase. “Follow me. There’s something I’d like to show you.”

The Prince led you to the hallway where his room and Kanami’s was located whenever she visited. At the end of the hall stood two grand double doors that could only be opened by a key from his pocket. The doors squeaked as it open, and you both coughed as dust fluttered through the space. Clearly, it hadn’t been used in a while, but that mattered little when he switched on the lights. Rows upon rows of books stood tall enough to nearly hit the ceiling. The room had a dome-shaped structure, with the walls carved in to make more spaces as bookshelves. In the middle sat a velvet red couch with a wooden table decorated with a vase of flowers. However, it wasn’t the books that took your breath away – it was the grand spiraling chandelier that slowly flickered to life like candles being lit, bathing the room in a warm, soothing light.

Unable to help yourself, you stepped inside, jaw dropped at the beauty of it all.

“This is my library.”

“This is marvelous,” you chuckled out, breathily, running your fingers over the spines of the books. They were covered in dust, but otherwise in pristine conditions. Most of them were classic collections too – the types of books you would only find in antique shops. And was that an official journal from an ancient royal? You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. This couldn’t be just a personal collection – these had to be an official record room.

“Are these all yours?”

“Some of it were my father’s. His Majesty liked to read.”

You glanced at Kiyoomi from under your lashes. He stood at an arm’s length away from you, casually leaning against the bookshelf whilst you pull out a random book. The Anthology of the First King, it read.

“You’re the first Prince who ever spoke of him.”

Kiyoomi’s gaze flittered over yours, from your fingers caressing the ancient book delicately, to the way a smile graced your face upon inhaling that addicting old book smell. His voice, if possible, grew quieter. “I know my brothers all dislike him, and I don’t blame them,” he continued, “But His Majesty raised me as best as he could. It may have been because of the power I could wield as a foreigner, but he came here often. He was the reason I grew up with a fondness for books.”

You hadn’t heard of that before. As far as you knew, the late King seemed absent in all of his son’s lives, but then again, the royal family had always been a complexity.

Turning away from the historical section, you beamed at the Prince. “Well, this is quite an impressive collection. His Majesty has taste.”

Kiyoomi fought back a smile. The gesture shouldn’t have looked as adorable as it did, and now you were fighting back a smile, too. You liked him this way – you like him much better here in Itachiyama. Whenever he was at the Palace, you could see the walls he surrounded himself with, how he closed himself from the world. But here? Here, he was just a man eager to talk about the things he loved, and you eagerly followed him when he gestured you to.

“This is my section,” he pointed to a rack spanning from floor to ceiling, then to the shelves next to it. “And that is Tooru’s. The one at the back is Keiji’s.”

Tooru’s section was… surprising, to say the least. He had all of Shakespeare’s books, with a multitude of romance and tragedy novels. His books looked to be the most loved out of everything you’d seen – with cracked spines, folded paper edges, and annotations on the pages. “Tooru’s? These are all romance novels.”

“It may be hard to believe, but he is a hopeless romantic,” Kiyoomi snickered, “Keiji, on the other hand, loves to read historical fiction. And don’t tell him I told you this, but he wrote three of these books here.”

“He’s a writer?!”

“A splendid one,” he boasted, pulling out a book titled The Fall of Belle. “He wrote this about Belleview Manor when he was eighteen. Belleview was notorious for housing the most, er, complicated royals, you see. He was inspired by it and turned it to a kingdom, writing something about soldiers and poets and kings. It’s a really good novel. I highly recommend you read it.”

Kiyoomi was already shoving Keiji’s novels into your arms before you could say anything. Next to Keiji’s was Shinsuke’s collection – unsurprisingly again, were mostly textbooks. The Itachiyaman Law, the Governance, the History of Inarizaki, The Fall of the Union. You weren’t too interested, so you moved onto the next shelves and blinked back at what you saw.

Beside you, the Prince cleared his throat in an attempt to hold back a smile. “That is Tobio’s section.”

“These are… balls.”

Instead of books placed on the shelves, they were balls, all held up carefully by expensive looking holders. Each one of them had signatures written on them with markers, along with a tag underneath of several dates. “Volleyballs, yes. He had these signed by his favorite players, and those are the dates of the matches,” he explained, slowly moving behind you until you could feel the heat radiating off of him. Looking up at the Prince, you saw he wasn’t looking at you, but rather at the sports equipment with what seemed like fondness, and regret, in his eyes.

“He’s always loved playing sports as a child. He was rather good at it, too. Shame he couldn’t go pro.”

“Because he’s a Prince?”

Kiyoomi nodded. “He may be the youngest, but that doesn’t mean he’s freed from his duties. The Queen knows the kingdom loves him so she has quite a grand plan for Tobio to start tours by himself and see if he’d be more successful in establishing connections with others,” shaking his head, the Prince closed his eyes. “He may marry soon, too.”

“He’s too young to be married.”

“He isn’t that young, but I know what you mean,” he said, “Although I think Tobio will find it the hardest to marry out of every one of us.”

“Why so?”

Kiyoomi shrugged. “He’s a romantic. Not like Tooru in the sense that he would recite Shakespeare’s sonnet to seduce a woman he likes, but in the sense that he still innocently believes he can marry someone of his choosing. That’d only work if she was a noblewoman, though. Otherwise he might experience the same fate as Shinsuke.”

Ah. Shinsuke and his maid – a tragedy in the making.

You looked away from Kiyoomi. Shuffling the books in your arms, you shuffled to the lone seat in the room and plopped down on it, wincing when your arms ached from the weight. “You know a lot about your brothers.”

“I’ve spent a long time watching them,” he confessed, and the sofa dipped beside you. He leant back against it, his long legs crossing over the other as he tilted his head back, watching what little he could of the stars visible from the dome-like ceiling. “It wasn’t always like this. There was a point in our lives we used to be closer and didn’t care too much about the throne.”

“Who were you closest with?”

“Tooru and Keiji. They both loved reading, and so did I. I wasn’t very close with the younger ones because they were rambunctious, especially the twins. But I like Tobio a lot,” he smiled, albeit sadly. “I hope the crown never fails him. I would do anything to ensure he stays unaffected by the harshness of it.”

“He’s a precious boy,” you agreed, and then thought back to the drawings in Kiyoomi’s living room. Biting your lip, you suddenly stood up and headed for the last shelf at the end of the room. Silently hoping, wishing, it was Rintaro’s section. Behind you, you heard the Prince shuffle on his feet as he followed you around. “And… Rintaro? Were you close with him back then, too?”

You already expected the answer, but it didn’t disappoint you any less when you heard it.

“No. The Queen always kept him isolated. I rarely saw him growing up, but on the few times I did, he always looked like he wanted to play with us. He wasn’t allowed, though. Her Majesty was… eerily wary of him getting too close with his brothers,” Kiyoomi let on, his handsome face contorting to that of discomfort when you blankly stared at him. Then, his ears reddened, and he coughed out of nowhere, his large palm covering his mouth. “I fear I may have talked too much. Please, look around. I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll like.”

Happy to do so, you left no inch and corner of the library unturned. Tooru had the most interesting collection with his romance novels, but you found Keiji’s section to be the most curious. A moment later, you had a dozen books stacked on top of each other at the nearby table. You just wanted one more – a book about Tobio’s favorite sport so you could ask the sweet Prince about it when you returned home.

Unfortunately, the first five rows of Tobio’s shelf consisted of his signed volleyballs, and his books sat at the top ones. You had to stand on your tiptoes, only for your fingers to barely graze the spine of it. Damn it. Taking your slippers off, you bunched your nightgown and robe in your hand and used your free arm to hoist yourself up. Your feet landed on the wooden boards of the shelf as you struggled to reach for A Dummy’s Guide to Volleyball when your foot slipped.

The ground disappeared beneath you.

Gravity consumed you as you fell, the book you’d been reaching for sliding out of its place and nearly knocking into your forehead. But it never came. Your face never smacked the ground, and your bum seemed safe, too. Instead, strong arms wrapped around your waist until you landed on a hard body with an ‘oof’, the breath knocked out of your windpipe.

Kiyoomi groaned underneath you.

Gasping, you realized you’d accidentally elbowed him in the chest. The poor prince had turned red in the face as he struggled to breathe, and you hoisted yourself up to move yourself out of the way, realizing a little too late how little you wore. Or how thin your nightgown was. Or how you didn’t wear a bra to sleep and forgot to wear one when you left the room, and now your hardened nipples were brushing against his chest. Underneath you, Kiyoomi inhaled in sharply, his dark eyes darting from your cleavage and to the books – the movement so fast you wondered if he had whiplash.

You froze. This was… quite a predicament to be in.

If you slid your body upward, your lace panties would brush against his crotch. If you slid yourself downwards, you’d graze your sensitive nipples on his silk blouse. But if you slid sideways, that would mean you had to rise your upper body to get your knees to stop straddling him, and he’d have an even closer view of your breasts.

In conclusion, nothing would work.

“Let me, just, uh, move,” the Prince groaned beneath you, and you nodded fervently. He could do whatever he wanted at this point as long as it meant you’d both be separated. However, luck was not on his side either. As soon as the Prince gripped your hips to lift you off of him, his hips rose on instinct, accidentally thrusting into you.

The Prince stopped breathing, and so did you.

Within the blink of an eye, the Prince had torn you off his body – and he was suddenly at the other side of the room. Color drained from his face just as his skin from the neck down blistered red, the poor Prince snatching a nearby book to hide the growing tent in his pants.

“My apologies,” he blurted out, looking at everywhere but you. “I didn’t – I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” standing up, you dusted yourself off and wobbled on your feet. Great. Your legs felt weak, and your voice didn’t come out as confident and composed as you liked it to be. Rather, you were both breathless – and you couldn’t tell if it was from the adrenaline, or the delicious way his body molded to yours.

A pleasure you would not be thinking of. Ever. Again.

“Uhm. Thank you. Your library is really nice.”

The Prince nodded, taking his lips between his teeth. “I should, uh. I should go.”

“Yes, that might be for the best,” you croaked out, and just like that, the Prince was gone. The heavy slamming of the doors was the last thing you heard before you were engulfed in a deafening silence.

That night, you did not get any sleep at all.

And you were restless for all the wrong reasons.

[watercolorfreckles]

Could you do a story where a guard of a Supermax prison befriends a supervillain, because he treats him like a genuine human being instead of an animal; and later, all the power-dampeners suddenly fail; and all these villains just revolt against the guards; but supervillain makes sure he’s safe since he was always kind to him?

I understand if you don’t want to!!❤️

Hello! This has been sittin in my inbox for many months during my huge writing rut, sorry about that! I know you also gave this prompt to @the-modern-typewriter and she's been making an incredible series with it on patreon! I changed some things around because I don't want to in any way attempt some sad copy of her interpretation, but I was still inspired by the prompt itself, so I've taken some fairly big liberties to avoid any significant similarities! Hope that's okay! Also, please manage your expectations, I do not compare to the magic that is TMT's writing 😆

TW: Brief depictions of body horror. Violence.

The power blew out in sections. The lights dissolved sector by sector with a sickening whine and click–one by one–in approach.

The commotion ripped Eloise from the fictional world she was lost in, aged page corners still pinched beneath her thumb. Her spirited storytelling abruptly died behind her teeth.

Somewhere in the distance, one person shouted. Two.

Her gaze flicked behind them to the door isolating herself and the bound supervillain from the other sectors of the Maximum Security Prison for Powered Individuals or, as everyone called it, The Max. Seeing nothing but black beyond the bullet-proof glass, her attention snapped forward again to the supervillain imprisoned across from her. 

Was this the start of some elaborate escape plan on his part? Why did it have to happen on a day that she was stuck fulfilling her community service hours instead of being something she could safely gawk at in the newspaper from a distance in a few days? Her stomach did a nauseated flip. 

“What are you doing?” she blurted, voice quivering only a little. Her fingers tightened around her book.

The villain made a show of looking pointedly at his restraints. Wrists strung taut and chained to either wall, he shrugged an innocent shoulder at her as if to say “clearly, nothing.” He was perched on the edge of his bed like a bird, tilting his head with a matching sort of probing curiosity. 

For all the chaos outside of the room, Artisan had not a hair out of place. He appeared perfectly unconcerned, though as thoroughly trapped as ever: ankles shackled, arms stretched uselessly apart from each other. The power-dampening collar wrapped around his neck still blipped a faint red light, indicating it was active. 

The prisoners were rioting. Surely they couldn’t get too far? Containing the most dangerous of powered individuals was, after all, the express purpose of the facility…

The lights above them flickered, dipping the room in and out of inky darkness before settling into a dimly lit haze. Eloise’s breath stalled. The imposing dark felt like a threat, as if the lights could keep the monsters at bay. It only made a little sense, in the way that a child feels safe from the monsters under their bed as long as their nightlight is plugged in.

Except that these monsters were real. The most dangerous in the country. And she was currently feet away from the monster that made even other monsters run.

He hadn’t seemed so bad in the time that she’d known him. Quiet, impassive, yet twisting her gut with pity any time she eyed his barbaric restraints. The least she could do–while crossing off her hours–was to read the supervillain a story every few days. She couldn’t change his fate. Couldn’t make him more comfortable. What she could do was rattle off, sheepishly, about fictional worlds and impactful characters in literature and the way that a well-crafted story could transport you somewhere better.

A crash, gunshots, a scream. Tension racketed through Eloise’s shoulders. More shouts chased thundering footsteps.

Things were going very, very, wrong. And she was very much out of her depth.

Eloise jolted as something struck the door, her special-edition copy of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein falling to the ground and skidding away.

Finally, the lights cut out. With it, every noticeable piece of tech died. All of the energy felt sucked out of the room as if vacuumed. The camera’s blinking light disappeared. Alarms that should have been wailing cut silent. Speakers, keypads, and security systems, all dead. The secondary generator hadn’t sprung to life yet. That meant that this was more than a simple power outage. This was a calculated revolt.

 Eloise’s mind raced through a list of everything else that must have been failing. Coms. Sedative gas. Shock collars. Layers and layers of security locks…

Power dampeners.

Panic clamped vice-like and suffocating around her throat. Artisan’s collar was no longer blinking. 

She froze in the eerie silence of the cell, afraid of shattering the fragile calm. Her heart thumped, rabid, against her ribs.

Chains rattled and clinked to the floor.

Eloise bolted blindly for the door, smacking her palm against the DNA scanner while frantically swiping her “Volunteer Staff” badge through the card reader. When neither miraculously came to life, she resorted to banging on the door.

“Let me out, let me out! Guard!”

The door could only be opened by one person inside the cell and one outside simultaneously unlocking the security checkpoints. Even if the power were on, if the guard on the other side was gone…

The emergency floodlights kicked on, bathing the building in startling fluorescence. Eloise flinched, briefly stunned.

Hands grabbed her firmly from behind, yanking her backward.

Eloise yelped. “No, please–!”

The spot that she had been standing in exploded, steel door and concrete chunks collapsing into the room in a barrage of shrapnel. Something–no, someone–landed, bones crunching, at her feet. The guard who had last been standing on the opposite side of the door lay motionless. His blood puddled the floor, staining the soles of her Converse sneakers.

A horrified sound choked in Eloise’s throat.

Another supervillain strode in, eyes alight with hatred and something more–power. His lip curled, waving a mocking hand–engulfed in green energy–at the guard’s corpse. “God. I’ve wanted to do that for far too long. That one always got on my nerves.”

Artisan looked unimpressed. “You’re making a mess in my cell.”

Eloise’s breath caught. Hearing the supervillain’s voice was jarring. Artisan rarely spoke. Not that any of the other staff had ever actually attempted conversation with him… But even in news clips and YouTube videos, he carried himself with the kind of self-assured quiet of someone who had absolutely nothing to prove. His lethal efficiency did more for his reputation than any words could.

The other man was a villain named William Frenzy, a telekinetic with a gleeful taste for violence.

Faced with Artisan’s startling calm, Frenzy… paused. Faltering on a tight rope he had moments before been strolling across. 

“Yes, well. It won’t have to be your cell much longer, will it? They can’t stop all of us.” He smirked at the dead body on the floor. “Some of them can’t even stop one of us.”

Eloise shrank back toward the corner nearest the door, agonizingly slow, willing the ugly shadows from the artificial lighting to swallow her up while the supers focused on each other. She was the kind of person that people tended not to notice; a background character in the perimeter of a story that the protagonist would meet once and never spare a thought again. She wished, then, that invisibility really was her superpower.

Artisan said nothing, his steely gaze fixed upon Frenzy.

Frenzy floundered beneath the scrutiny. The smugness buffered on his face. Finally, he huffed, crossing his arms. “I made you a nice and easy door out. You’re welcome.” He flicked a hand toward the gaping hole in the wall.

Eloise inched further toward it.

Artisan tutted, and while it wasn’t aimed at her, it shot a cold thrill up her spine. She froze, briefly, before continuing her tantalizing escape. She listened to Artisan speak again. 

“I did not need anything from you. I’ll be getting out regardless. You on the other hand…” 

Eloise stared as Frenzy’s skin shrank taut against his bones, the frame of him creaking and groaning like an old tree in the wind. The air choked out of him, fingers grabbing at his jaw as it stretched open too wide. The corners of his lips tore, slitting his mouth into a gaping maw.

The faintest of smiles graced Artisan's lips as he continued, soft as ever. “Say sorry.”

Eloise didn’t wait to see the carnage through, slipping out into the hall and running.

The other sectors were washed in the same sterile glow as Artisan’s cell was, blue-tinged and horrible, like the lights in a dentist's office. She kept to the edge of things as best she could, clinging to the walls and dark corners.

There was brawling in every sector—guards with weapons drawn mowed to the ground by the creatures they had wardened for so long. A villain fell as shots rang out. Another grabbed the guard from behind, cracking his skull against their knee. 

The smell of blood stung Eloise’s nostrils. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe.

She turned to flee down another hall, but two fighting inmates crashed into the doorway in front of her.

Eloise squealed, jerking backward into the belly of the room's chaos.

Don't notice me, don't notice me, don't notice me.

Everyone was so occupied by their chosen prey, maybe she could fade into the background. Maybe she could–

Her heel caught on something and she tumbled, gracelessly, to the floor. It took her several moments to register the lake of blood seeping warm and sticky into her clothing. 

Terror blurred her brain in a white flash bang.

Disappear, disappear, disappear…

“Mm. What do we have here?”

Eloise couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. She clamped her eyes shut, another child’s illusion of protection. 

The villain opposite her chuckled. He ripped her volunteer badge off of its clip against her chest. Her eyes snapped open again. She recognized him as a ringleader among superpowered thieves. They called him Volt.

“Volunteer, eh? A pretty thing like you should know better than to willingly set foot in a prison full of men with nothing left to lose. It’s been a long sentence, darling. I could make excellent use of your volunteer services. Get up.”

Numbly, ears full of static, Eloise shook her head.

Volt frowned, electricity jumping to life in his palms. “No?” He reached for her, hand nearing her throat.

“Keep your hands to yourself or I will remove them.” 

Artisan’s voice was calm. His eyes were not.

The room quieted.

Spatters of red decorated Artisan’s prison uniform. A few drops dotted his face and he brushed them away with his knuckles, smearing the crimson across his cheek. Almost lazily, he popped his neck and stretched his shoulders, no doubt sore from the strain his restraints kept him in.

The villain across from Eloise paused, sparks still dancing across his fingertips. He regarded Artisan with the same wary caution as Frenzy had.

Before he'd been… Before Artisan had…

Eloise swallowed back the nausea climbing her throat.

Finally, Volt’s hand lowered. “She's yours?”

“She's hers. Step away.”

The man hesitated a moment too long. Artisan didn't offer a second warning. 

As if puppeted, the man's fingers raised to gauge at his own eyes. He screamed, the faint evidence of Artisan’s power shimmering over him. He clawed, next, at the skin on his face, peeling it back like wet wallpaper. 

As promised, his wrists crunched and bent, wrenching all on their own at impossible angles.

Eloise covered her ears, unable to bear the screaming. She felt sick.

“Stop,” she whispered finally. “Please.”

It did. The man collapsed into a sobbing, bloodied heap.

When Eloise managed to look at Artisan, she startled to find his attention fixed on her.

They stared at each other for a stretch of silence that itched. She imagined being forced to choke on her own lungs, or her skull constricting in on itself until it squashed her brain into pulp. For being so bold as to run, he might snap her legs and reaffix them the wrong direction, or splinter her bones to poke, grotesque, out of her skin. They always did say that his victims were his personal works of art, bodies twisted into shells of monsters.

He crooked a finger, beckoning her.

The edges of her vision swooped fuzzy and vertiginous. She rose onto wobbly knees and pushed herself to her feet. When she swayed, Artisan caught her elbow, slipping an arm around her waist to lead her forward.

He did not look back at the others, with complete confidence that no one would challenge him.

No one did.

Eloise was barely aware of taking one step after another. When they arrived back in the villain’s cell, the bodies of Frenzy and the dead guard, thankfully, were gone, though the floor was streaked with the drag lines of their blood.

She wrenched her gaze away.

Artisan’s hand moved further down her arm to her wrist, gesturing that she sit on his bed. When she shifted to do so, his grip tightened, tugging her to a stop. She frozen and tried to read his face. 

His dark brows were furrowed, suspicious eyes flicking from hers down to her hand.

He pulled down her sleeve and held her wrist up between them, revealing the power-blocking cuff clamped around it. His head cocked. He waited.

Eloise swallowed. “I’m not a super. I mean- not a super-super. Just a…..no one.”

“A no-one who volunteers at The Max? With a power-dampener?”

“They’re terms of my probation,” she blurted. “A thousand hours of community service here and a power-inhibitor for a year. I think they put me here to threaten me with where I could end up if I continue on like… Um…”

“Me.”

“A villain,” she clarified, as if that was better. 

Her gaze flitted from the fingers wrapped around her wrist and up to the villain’s face again. The harsh lighting haloed him, dimly silhouetting his face. He looked haunting. He looked lovely. A beautiful house, old and creaking, wrapped in ghosts like a bride’s veil and left to rot. 

“What did you do?”

“I…” Eloise felt very small. “I lied about being powered on my documents. So that they wouldn’t put me on the registry. When they found me out, I tried to run away.”

Artisan’s scrutiny burned her cheeks. He let go of her wrist.

“...What can you do?”

“Nothing special,” she said, cradling her wrist–wholly uninjured as it was–in her other hand. “It doesn’t even work most of the time. My power is sort of…blending in. Going unnoticed. When it’s working, I could stand in a the White House and people’s attention would glide over me as if I belonged there. Not quite invisible, but… It just tricks your brain into not thinking twice.”

Artisan’s eyes narrowed.

Eloise flinched back a step, stumbling back over her fallen book onto the bed. She stared at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, but she still waited for the catch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them? Trying to escape?”

The villain considered her for a long moment. He sat down beside her, and the hard cot creaked beneath his weight. “Mm. That’s just it. No one inside the prison could have blown the power-dampeners. They require someone with powers to turn them off or on, and the security is impenetrable. My team has tried. Besides, if this was a simple power outage, the inhibitors would still be on. But they’re not. This was premeditated–and no one imprisoned here could have done it. No one on the outside could have done it. So. Process of elimination. Who’s left?”

That was the most Eloise had ever heard Artisan speak, and she could only sit and listen intently–As he had when she’d read him stories. Her brain whirred in a jumbled jigsaw of puzzle pieces. 

“It… It could only be an inside job.” She wet her lips. “The heroes- The higher-ups- They want the prisoners to break out so that they can kill them. A clean massacre. Justified under the law. The world’s most dangerous criminals could never be allowed to escape…”

Artisan smiled and it swirled something in her insides. “A convenient way to get rid of all of the pesky criminals clogging up the system. I’d bet anything that there are 50 snipers surrounding the building, waiting to slaughter anyone who steps foot outside.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Artisan agreed, his smile easing into something softer; something with less feral teeth.

“Thank you for helping me,” Eloise whispered. “What do we do now?”

Artisan hummed. He bent down and swept up her book, dropping it into her lap. He laid back against his pillow and crossed his arms behind his head. The bloodspots on his skin and clothes glittered in the lowlight. 

“Keep reading. I want to know how it ends.”

[peachhcs]

mark to the rescue

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy isn't feeling it when hannah drags her out, so mark comes to save her from the frats

2.1k words

i always love writing the big brother relationship between samy and the umich boys, so here's her and mark after he picks her up when samy attempts to go out and talk to guys but realizes all of them are horrible

au masterlist

“come onnn, you haven’t come out with us in like..forever,” hannah frowned at samy where the girl sat on her bed trying to get her homework done. a small eye roll came from the soccer player. 

“maybe because i’m trying to keep up with my work?” samy’s tone had a bit of attitude laced into it. 

hannah’s noticed she’s become a bit more bitter ever since the breakup and knew to not take it personally. “okay, well you can take a break? it’ll be a fun break,” the girl tried again with a hopeful smile. 

“i’m just not into it,” samy shrugged knowing she wouldn’t really have fun. she never had a lot of fun when going out unless she was somewhat wasted and there was no way she was drinking her weight with a game in two days. 

“for an hour? please? for me if not yourself? maybe you’ll see a guy catch your eye or something,” hannah wiggled her eyebrows, but that only earned her another unimpressed eye roll. 

she’s been on samy’s back a little about going out and talking to some guys since will clearly didn’t care anymore and neither of them had spoken for five months. 

“again with the guys, huh?” samy raised her eyebrow. 

“i just think it could be fun for you. try out your flirting. you never really had to do that with will because he was always just all over you,” immediately after hannah said that she realized she probably shouldn’t have. 

samy’s gaze hardened a bit at the mention of will’s name. 

“if i come out, will you shut up?” 

hannah smiled, “yes. i knew i could convince you. come on, we need to get you ready.” 

samy was dragged off the bed a moment later, her textbooks and notebooks long forgotten as the two girls dove into samy’s closet to find an outfit. 

thirty minutes later, hannah and samy packed themselves into the full frat house. sweaty bodies knocked against one another along with drinks dropping to the floor as it sloshed out of people’s cups. the scene was chaotic and samy quickly regretted coming out. 

“i’m gonna find a drink. want anything?” hannah yelled over the speakers. 

“get me whatever,” samy responded. the girl nodded before disappearing into the crowd of bodies towards the kitchen. 

samy perched herself in the corner where she hoped she could hide the whole night and not have to talk to anyone. her phone suddenly became really interesting as she swiped through her different apps awaiting hannah’s return. 

“hey, samy, right?” the brunette’s head snapped up at the new voice. 

when she saw the face a few feet away, she instantly recognized him. he was in her political theory class where the two bantered back and forth about differing opinions. samy managed a small smile. 

“hi, yeah. that’s me. you’re..dylan, right?” the boy nodded when samy got his name right. 

“yeah, that’s me. i’m always firing some opinions back at you in class,” dylan said and samy nodded. 

“yeah, that’s right. those are fun,” the girl chuckled even though they were on opposite ends of the debate most of the times, samy enjoyed having someone to have civilized discussions with amd she knew they entertained the class. 

“i didn’t really take you for much of a frat girl?” dylan hummed, leaning himself against the wall. the brunette shrugged some. 

“i’m not, but my roommate dragged me out,” somewhere in the crowd was hannag getting them drinks and samy lowkey hoped she’d come back soon so she could exit this conversation. 

it wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to dylan, samy knew what he wanted and why he was near her and that was just something the girl didn’t really want to partake in. 

“how are you and your boyfriend? i never see you post about him anymore?” dylan asked casually, but that sentence alone nearly sent the girl spiraling. she forgot people would ask her about will because they were fairly public with their relationship. 

“um, we broke up a few months ago actually,” samy swallowed, eyes on the ground. 

“oh. i’m sorry, i had no idea. that sucks,” the taller boy quickly sympathized with her, but samy shook her head. 

“don’t worry about it. it’s fine,” she gave a tight lipped smile that hopefully dylan would take the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it. 

he seemed to not take that hint though, “you were out of his league anyway. i’m sure you can do a lot better than him.” 

samy seriously hoped hannah was on her way back with those drinks. “yeah, it’s whatever. i’m getting over it,” the soccer player’s fingers brushed across her charm bracelet, subconsciously toying with the shark charm. 

whether the youngest hughes wanted to acknowledge it or not, she played with that charm a lot whenever will was on her mind as if it would help her stop thinking about him even though he got her that charm. 

“i bet your brother’s hockey friends are just lined up for you,” dylan seriously did not know when to stop talking. 

luckily, hannah pushed her way back through the crowd with two cups in her hand. she beamed when she caught sight of her roommate talking to a guy. 

“oh, perfect. i was waiting for you, hannah. mind showing me to the bathroom,” samy immediately cut in when the girl got close enough. 

samy had eyes that said get me away from this man. hannah glanced between her and the guy before nodding, letting the soccer player drag her away before anything else could be said. as soon as the two were out of view, samy grabbed a cup and quickly chugged whatever was in it. 

“jesus, slow down, hughes,” hannah laughed a bit. 

“these fucking guys don’t know how to take a hint. have they always been this bad?” because will was always just there, samy never had to do much flirting with him to catch his attention. she hardly paid attention to the guys in the frats last year, so she never realized how horrible it was to talk to one of them. 

“did something happen?” hannah grew concerned. 

“just that dylan can’t take a hint when to stop talking. he literally thinks luke’s hockey friends are at my feet after knowing will broke up with me,” the idea made the brunette shudder even thinking about it. 

“ew, gross. that would be a whole new low for you if you started dating one of them,” hannah shook her head. 

“can i just leave? i’ll get mark or someone to pick me up. i know you’re trying to cheer me up, but i don’t think a frat is gonna make me smile,” samy frowned a bit. 

hannah studied her roommate's expression and she knew this scene wasn’t for her. it never had been anyway. “okay, just text me when you’re back? i’m sorry this wasn’t fun.” 

“it’s okay. i promise i’ll text,” the two girls exchanged tight hugs before samy started her way back to the door and searched for mark’s contact. 

she knew ethan was studying for this big exam coming up and mark never did much except hang out with his girlfriend, so samy just hoped she wouldn’t interrupt things when she called. surprisingly, the older boy picked up on the second ring as soon as samy got outside. 

“what’s up hughesy?” mark cheered. 

“hey, i hate to ask but can you pick me up? i’m at this frat hannah dragged me out to and i just wasn’t feeling it. i’ll send my location,” the girl explained. 

“yeah, sure. i’m on my way,” mark said. 

“thanks, mark. i owe you,” the two hung up and samy made her perch outside while she waited for mark’s arrival. 

ten minutes later, mark’s little honda civic pulled onto the side of the road. the boy reached over the seats to push samy’s door open for her. the girl smiled as she climbed in beside him. 

“thanks again. i didn’t wanna bother ethan knowing he’s studying,” samy explained as she buckled in and mark pulled back onto the road. 

“it’s not a problem. i was just playing video games with the other guys,” that made samy laugh because of how typical that sounded. those guys were always glued to their computers on call with one another. 

“any chance you’re hungry? i could go for our usual,” mark glanced over at the girl with a smile. 

anytime ethan or mark had to pick samy up late at night, they always stopped at their favorite pizza place on campus that became the spot the two boys took the girl out for lunch every other week to catch up with her like real annoying brothers would do. 

“i could always go for pizza,” samy grinned back at the older boy. 

they pulled into the parking lot a few moments later as the two eagerly hopped out to order their usuals—two slices of pepperoni for samy and two slices of cheese for mark. with it being almost 12 in the morning, the two got in and out and then found a table outside. they let the comfortable silence overtake them, savoring the first bites and people watching the very drunk college kids wandering around to different house parties. 

“so bad night, or what?” mark wondered. 

“not really..i just wasn’t feeling it i guess. this one guy tried talking me up and it got weird really fast,” samy shook her head. 

“what’d he say?” 

“well, first he said i was out of will’s league because i told him we broke up when he asked. then he said and i quote, “i’m sure luke’s hockey friends are lined up at your feet.”” mark quickly frowned when he heard that. 

“what the fuck. who says that,” his eyebrows scrunched together in near disgust. 

“i have no idea. i just had to get out of there. i forgot how awful guys are when they’re trying to flirt with you,” the younger girl shook her head again. 

“i guess you have been out of the game for awhile so,” mark gently teased, but that made samy smile. 

“apparently. i hate that i actually have to like deal with that if i wanna talk to guys now.” 

“are you thinking about dating again?” mark asked. 

“i feel like i can’t keep sitting around being sad, so maybe. i don’t know. probably nothing serious though. the dating scene doesn’t really appeal to me.” 

“makes sense. i’d be the same way if i were you. i know you and will didn’t date for a long time, but that was some serious shit, so.. moving on isn’t that easy,” the older boy sympathized, which samy appreciated. 

“right. i was his first time, so i’d say that’s pretty serious,” the girl mumbled, but mark made a face. 

“ew, i didn’t need to know that part. but like actually?” his reaction made the brunette laugh. 

“sorry, but yeah i was. surprised me too when he told me, but i don’t know. i kind of thought it was sweet,” samy hummed a bit, her finger going back to the shark charm. 

“i know you’ve probably heard this a hundred times, but i really hope you guys can work it out. especially the friendship part. having a best friend like that is really special. i never really had a best friend like that until i came here and met ethan and luke and all the guys. even if the dating can’t happen again, i really hope you two can be friends again,” mark said softly which samy surprisingly didn’t hate hearing. she knew everyone who was saying this had a point and she, too, hoped that her and will could work something out. it was just a matter of who was gonna reach out to make it happen because they were both very stubborn. 

“thanks, mark. i also hope we can be friends at some point again,” the two shared a smile. 

they stayed for another ten minutes before deciding they should get back because it was late. when mark pulled into the parking lot to samy’s dorm, she reached out to give his arm a loving squeeze. 

“thanks again. text me when you and ethan are up for our get together next week and i’ll see you at tomorrow's game.” 

“yes, ma’am. have a good night,” they exchanged one last smile before samy climbed out and started her way back to the dorm feeling a lot better than she did when she left earlier. 

[riptides-n-roses]

prey - the bloodline (18+)

⛧ pair - the bloodline (roman reigns, jimmy uso, jey uso, solo sikoa) x reader

⛧ warnings - unprotected p in v. primal play, degrading, masturbation, lots of positions, exhibitionism, cre@mpies, oral (m! and f! receiving), crying (from pleasure), obviously minors should not be interacting ♡

⛧ this is also my very first smut so please be patient with me as i didn't have any proof-reading done :(

⛧ the bloodline has been chasing you all night backstage. scared to your wits, you thought you have found somewhere safe to hide, hoping to escape. only to be caught and surrounded by the four men, hungry of whatever they wanted from you.

⛧ word count: 3.7K

Run

Run

Run

The only word circling your head. You were backstage, running as fast as you could to get away from four hungry men, chasing you like fresh meat. The Bloodline has had their eyes on you for a while now. They took notice on how you wrestled against the different female superstars. They have watched your every move. And now, they are hunting you down. But why?

You were so exhausted, barely able to catch yourself and you heard the twins call out for you.

“Mamas, there’s no need to run away!”

“Come on out, darling. You can’t resist us and you know it.”

You ignored their taunts and hid behind several crates, taking your chance to catch yourself. Panting from how much you ran, adrenaline spiked to a level you have never felt before. Noticing a small crack of light through the crates, you slowly made your way to it, peeking out to see if any members of The Bloodline were nearby. Not to your surprise, you see Jey and Solo standing nearby, talking about where they last seen you.

“I could’ve sworn she went that way.” Jey whined. “Do you know where she could be?”

Solo shrugged.

Jey sighed “Keep looking. I’m going to find the Tribal Chief and see what he says.”

That’s when your heart stopped. Roman Reigns. The Tribal Chief. The Head of The Table. He was looking for you as well. He is usually patient when it came to getting what he wanted. He was an enigma when it came to that. It would feel scary to be in front him as he was your predator. If he were to find you, who knows what could’ve happened.

It was a game of chance, where you wouldn’t know what would happen if any of them found you. You quietly let a sigh of relief, after seeing the two figures walk away in separate directions, only to realize you were still hiding. You quickly held your breathe, trying to contain yourself from panicking, planning a way to escape and leave the arena. You slowly got up and left the crates, and started walking until you felt a pair of arms swoop you up.

“Found you, sweet thing.” It was Roman. He set you up on his shoulder and carrying you away from the crates. “Did you seriously think you could escape your Tribal Chief? How adorable.” He cooed.

You felt your heart beat fast. You were caught. You didn’t know what was going to happen to you. You were trembling on his shoulders, unaware as to why he wanted you in the first place. As Roman made his way to the other 3 men while carrying you, he was smiling, finally catching what’s been driving him wild.

“Damn Ro. Looks like you found her” Jimmy chuckled. The four men then went to take you to a car, opening one of the car doors and gently placing you in a seat. You couldn’t speak or do anything. You froze in fear, afraid of what they wanted.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

You were brought to a hotel room, placed down on a bed with a blindfold covering your eyes so you couldn’t see what the Bloodline were doing. Your breath hitched feeling four hands gently exploring your body, not knowing that the twins were testing your limits – admiring how your body reacted to their fingers.

“Enjoying yourself, mamas?” Jimmy playfully asked you, feeling his hands grope your breasts. You felt your panties get damp from all the sensations you were feeling in that moment – your legs pathetically trying to close.

“Do you know why we were looking for you all night?” Jey chimed in, slowly making his way to your pants “You drive all of us mad – ever since you came here, you’ve made quite a name for yourself. The way you compete, the way you talk, hell, everything about you makes us hungry.” Your cheeks were warm to this reveal – You were too afraid to even come close to any member of The Bloodline. The way they took down every single opponent that dared to cross them, especially the Tribal Chief. You were craving for at least one member of the faction to fuck you braindead, probably never expected for something like this to happen. You lost your train of thought feeling a pair of lips going up your neck, making their way up to your ear.

“Tell us, Y/N” Jimmy whispered. “Aren’t you hungry for us too?” You gasped feeling him nibble on your ear as Jey began to take off your pants. “You don’t have to be shy.”

You were about to say something before you felt your top and bra come off, shivering from the air hitting your nipples. Jimmy hummed in approval before he started to tug them roughly.

“I…” You started to respond, taking a breath, “I am” The four men chuckle to this reveal.

“In that case, sweet thing.” You hear Roman tease. “Let us have our way with you." After those words were spoken, Roman took a seat, admiring the show as Solo stood beside him, hungrily watches how your body twitches with each gentle touch. Finally, Jey removes your pants to reveal a soaked cunt covered by a pair of panties, eagerly waiting to be used. He kept eye contact with you as he took your underwear off just waiting to see what he’ll do next.

“I think we know how this will go now, darling” Jey finally responded. “Don’t you agree, uce?” looking at his twin brother. “Oh certainly.” Jimmy added “Here, mamas spread your legs and relax.”

You spread your legs wide, allowing Jey to get a better view of your glistening cunt as he begins to hold your legs apart. “You look so delicious; I wonder what you taste like.” Jey growled. As you opened your mouth, you felt his warm tongue slide up and down your clit, not breaking eye contact watching as you melt in front of all four men while blindfolded only seeing pitch black. Jimmy began playing with your hard, sensitive nipples as he started to leave steamy kisses all over your neck. You whined from the sensations you were feeling, the steamy kisses, rough hands groping you, a warm tongue playing with your clit, sliding up and down. Roman smirked seeing you moan and whine, begging for more, feeling his bulge throb through his pants, trying his best to not pounce and do whatever he pleased to you.

“F-fuck!” You sobbed, shaking from Jey’s tongue going in and out of your pussy, your breast being played with and kisses being left all over. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling your stomach tighten from the sensations. “Please…”

“You’re going to cum, baby?” Jey teased as he stopped licking your pussy, allowing his fingers to circle your clit. “Come on, make a mess all over yourself. We want to see it.” You couldn’t take it anymore, “I-I need to- “

Before you could finish, your face was turned and you felt Jimmy kissing you roughly, muffling your moans and cries as Jey removes his fingers and plunges his tongue deep in your pussy again, Jimmy squeezing your tits hard and rough as he continues kissing you. As you finally hit your orgasm, you whined into Jimmy’s mouth, cumming all over Jey’s face, your legs trying to close. You could hear Roman chuckle as he watched you ride out your orgasm, Jimmy finally letting your mouth rest, a trail of spit following as well.

With a nod of approval from Roman, finally Jimmy took the blindfold off you – allowing you to see everything surrounding you as your clit throbbed for more attention.

“Ready for more, baby?” Jey asked you, taking his shorts off to reveal his hard cock. Your eyes widened, thinking to yourself how you’ll take it, or how it’ll fit in you. “Now now, mamas. Don’t forget about me either.” You turned your head to see Jimmy without his pants and boxers as well, your cheeks becoming warm. “Now turn over. Jey is going to fuck you while you suck me off.” You turn around to face Jimmy and position yourself on all fours. Making sure your pussy was exposed in front of Jey, you gasped feeling Jey position himself, slapping his tip onto your clit. “Easy doll.”

You cried out feeling Jey push himself into you, your clit throbbing from sensation. It was thick and a little painful, small tear forming in your eyes.

“Aww. Is Jey too much for you mamas? Here.” Jimmy teased, slapping his dick on your face before pushing it in your mouth. You began to adjust to Jey’s size, muffled moans escaping you while you began to bop your head up and down on Jimmy’s length. Jey starts to thrust slowly into you, making sure that you’re not in any pain. His thrusts began to slowly speed up, making your walls clench. Both twins groaning from how good you feel – Jimmy making you take every inch of him in your mouth, his hands grabbing your hair tight and pushing you down further, making you gag a bit. “Fuck, mamas.” Jimmy growled “Your mouth feels amazing.”

Jey chuckled giving you a hard slap across your ass, as his hips buck up with yours, “You like how I fuck your pretty cunt, baby? Do you want some more?” Your sounds were a mix of moaning and trying to grasp for air from how tightly Jimmy was using your hair as handle bars. God, you felt so full, finally getting what you craved for. Finally, being stuffed in a way you haven’t felt before. Both twins’ thrusts get harder and faster, making your stomach tighten again – slowly reaching your second orgasm of the night.

Your muffled moans were driving Roman crazy, waiting impatiently to fuck your brains out. Solo, who knows he’s next, has been watching how your body reacted to each thrust in your pussy and mouth – feeling his bulge get harder and harder with your soft cries and moans.

“Are you ready, baby? I’m going to cum soon – I’m going to fill your tight pussy with my cum.” Jey groaned, feeling his cock throb inside of you. “Me too, mamas? Are you ready for me to fill your mouth while you cum too?” Jimmy chuckled. You looked up to the eldest twin, nodding quickly with blurry eyes, feeling your stomach tighten. “Good girl”

With Jey picking up his pace, thrusting disgustingly faster, you whined feeling your stomach tighten even more, like a jack in the box.

“Get ready, doll”

You finally reached your orgasm, your muffled screams tighten your pussy as Jey thrusted one more time, - making his seed explode deep in you. Jimmy pushes your face down, his cum going to the back of your throat, growling as all three of you ride out an orgasm. Jimmy slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth, allowing your lungs air while Jey slowly pulls out of you, your pussy leaking with his cum and throbbing from the roughness. Your entire body shaking from how hard you came this time. Jimmy gently lifts your face up with his finger, giving you hot kisses all over your lips “That was amazing, mamas. You did so so well. Now it’s Solo’s turn – Be good okay?” You nodded as he gotten up, pulling his pants back up and giving you another kiss.

Jey gives you a gentle slap on the ass again, as he also gets up and puts his pants back on. “I’m so proud of you, doll.” He turns your face to meet his and gives you a sweet little kiss before he leaves with his twin out of the room.

Your breaths were hoarse, your abused throat made it hard for you to get more air. You looked and see Solo and Roman look at you with full amusement. Roman gives a gesture to Solo, allowing him to have his turn playing with you.

As Solo gotten closer to you, he gets his pants off, his dick poking through his boxers. Your brain still foggy from your previous orgasm, you look into his eyes with pure lust – You can’t wait for what he wanted to do to you.

“Ready for more, princess?” he asked, his hand reaching down to your clit, sliding his finger up and down. You whine from how sensitive your cunt was – you could already feel how wet you were getting again. “Answer me.”

“Ye…Yes.” You replied, wanting Solo to abuse your holes. He smiled and puts his tongue into yours, having a hot and steamy kiss session – Feeling his fingers play with your clit a little faster. He was amused with the way you whine and cry for his fingers to go inside your walls - still throbbing from Jey. “Good. Now lay on your back.” He chuckled removing his fingers from your sensitive hole. You were getting impatient, laying on your back against the soft pillows, spreading your legs. Solo’s eyes were full of hunger and lust for you as he removed his shorts. Your clit throbbed from the sight of his hard, thick cock – just ready for him to make you cum again. Solo positioned himself, slapping himself on your cunt, trying his best not to push himself all the way in you.

Without warning, he slowly pushes himself into you, growling from how wet you were, your whines making your walls tighten – He was incredibly thick. You felt like his cock would poke through your stomach. He gently grabs your throat, squeezing a bit as he thrusts into you, your choked cries making him go harder. “Fuck, princess. You’re taking me so well.” His praises make you look into his eyes begging for him to go faster.

“Y-You’re so big! I’ll cum too fast” You moaned, loving how rough he was thrusting into you – forgetting that Roman was next, you felt your stomach tighten scared of what he’ll do to you. As Solo pushed in and out of you, he burrowed his face onto one of your tits, roughly sucking your nipple as his grip gotten a little tighter on your neck.

“You’re gonna cum again, Princess? I know you want to.” Solo groaned, knowing he was getting close from being rough with you, lifting his face away from your tits and seeing your eyes roll back. You were trying to make sentences but your stomach kept getting tighter. This was exactly what you wanted. “I’m trying not to cum too fast. You’re so tight and needy. You’re doing so good.” He released his grip on your neck and intertwined his fingers with yours, your other hand touching his face.

“I.. I need to cum!” You sobbed, small tears forming from how rough Solo’s thrusts were – his fat cock continuously hitting your sensitive spots. “Yeah? You wanna cum? Cum with me, princess. I got you.” He teased as his thrusts get sloppy – knowing he was holding back from releasing his cum in you.

You let out a high-pitched scream, as you came all over Solo’s cock, one last thrust before his seed burst in you, your vision only seeing white. You knew exactly what was about to happen next. After riding out your orgasm, Solo pulled out of you and leaned in to kiss you deeply, his fingers playing with your hair. “Fuck, princess…You drained me. Let me fix you up.” He gently lifted you up, making sure you weren’t hurt or anything before he kissed you again. Your eyes turned to see a sexually frustrated Roman, sitting in his chair, looking directly at you. You knew he was going to be the roughest with you. Solo then got up, putting his pants, and fixing himself back up.

After he left, you slowly turned to Roman. The Samoan man cocked his head to the side, admiring how your breath hitched from how many rounds of sex. Your pussy still throbbing and leaking cum. He enjoyed seeing how your face looked, hungry for whatever he wanted to do to you. Your stomach dropped when Roman finally got up from his chair making his way toward you.

“Come here.” He motioned for you to get closer on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, you crawled up to him, your eyes looking into his. He smiled, admiring how exhausted you looked, your hair all messy. “Look at you, still horny after two rounds. You’re a dirty slut, aren’t you?” his words with a sexual undertone. Your cheeks were warm to his degrading. His rough hands exploring your body as you shivered from his touch. You wondered what he might do to you. Noticing his large bulge on his pants, you slowly reached for it. He took noticed and chuckled. “Go ahead, babygirl.”

With his approval, you slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his huge, veiny cock. Your mouth watered from the sight in front of you. You stuck your tongue out and gave soft kitty licks to his tip, he grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head further down his shaft. You gagged from how big he was, your pussy throbbing for some attention. While sucking him off, your fingers made its way to your clit, making small circles around your pearl – a wave of goosebumps hitting your back. Your muffled moans and grasps for air turned him on. He was amused to how tiny you looked under him.

“That’s right, baby. Take every inch of my cock.” Roman muttered, admiring the way you kept your eyes on him while your lips were around his cock. You could feel yourself getting wetter to his words, your throat being abused over and over. His praises made you throb with impatience, just begging for him to be inside of you.

His grip tightening around your hair and pushing your head down even more, making you gag from his thick length.

You felt so unclean – rubbing circles on your clit, desperate to slip a finger in your walls, sucking every inch of him and not breaking eye contact. You wanted to please him. Your cheeks were warm as he thrusted in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Your gags made him want to force his seed down your throat. But he had another idea. What seemed like an eternity, he ripped his cock out of your mouth.

You choked, pouting that he didn’t fill your mouth with his seed. Roman placed his grip on your throat – he loved seeing you beg for his attention, beg for him to use you the way he wanted. “Impatient, are we?” He mocked how you wanted more with a flirtatious tone. You wouldn’t dare to speak.

He chuckled and in that second, he swiftly picking you up, taking a seat on the bed, and set you down on his lap, aligning his cock to your pussy – You gasped feeling his tip slowly stuffing you, adjusting yourself before he pushed his whole length into you. “Oh fuck..” You cried, wrapping your arms around him as he stretched you out, “I know, babygirl.” His words made you clench – making you fight the urge to cum right there on the spot.

His hand placed on your hip, the other grabbing your ass cheek as he began to thrust in you, deep, slow strokes to let you adjust to his size. You tightened your arms around him, holding him tightly as waves of pleasure hit your body. His gaze on your face – he loved how your faces looked while he stuffed you of him, your mouth open with your tongue out. Your breasts jiggling from each bounce on his cock. He loved how you melted for him – how you craved for him.

“You’re so cute like this, baby. The way you melt from how I fuck you. Is that what you’ve wanted for sometime now? Come on. Tell me how bad you wanted this.” His words muffled from your chest. Your breath was shaky, moaning from how he hit your spot everytime he thrusted into you.

“So bad…” You whined. Wanting him to go faster, You could feel your orgasm coming soon.

“Good girl. For now on, you’re going to be my little toy. Only I can touch you and fuck you like this. Understood?” He ordered, tightening his grip around you and thrusting faster.

“Ye-Yes Ro-“

“Yes what, baby. Say it correctly.”

“Yes…D-Daddy..”

“Good girl.”

You throw your head back, not realizing that you signed yourself with him, to be his to use, to make others aware that you belong to him. But you didn’t care. You craved for him to use you like this, for him to hunt you down like this, to be his prey. Your stomach started to tighten as he lifted his head up and kissed your roughly – the sensations you were feeling in this moment made you not want it to stop. You wanted him to keep fucking you like this, you wanted him to make it known to everyone that you’re only his.

“You feel so good, babygirl. You’re taking me so well.”

His praises made you whimper, getting desperate to cum all over his cock. Swiftly, He laid back making his cock stuff you further.

You sobbed into the crook of his neck as his thrusts get faster and sloppier, knowing he was going to cum soon. He felt so good inside of you, you were begging for him to cum in you. You whined when you felt him deliver a harsh slap on your ass and gripping it tightly. You dug your nails into him from how rough he was with you.

“Daddy’s got you, babygirl. Fuck you feel so good.” He growled, knowing he was getting close too. You felt yourself getting closer.

“I-I need to cum! Please, daddy. I need to- “You moaned, your legs beginning to shake. “I know, babygirl.” He growled, admiring the way you were holding back.

You screamed as you came undone on him, your eyes rolling back from the sensation, Roman following behind as he held you tightly as he came, emptying his seed inside of you. His dark chocolate eyes staring into your face – his lips quick to meet with yours and leaving hot kisses all over your face.

“Holy shit…” He groaned, keeping his cock in you as you rode out your orgasm. You and Roman were breathing heavily from the intense round of sex. Your eyes never leaving his before he kissed you again.

“You’re mine now.”

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.5

Pairing: single!dad!Minho x male!Reader (Chanlix | OT8

Word Count: 6696

Summary: Just as everything seems to go well a call from the past messes with Minho's mind. His ex is set on getting her son back, ready to destroy everything you've built.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, date night, yejun's a bitch

A/N: Thank you for all the love so far for little Minjun and his family🤭🖤

PART FOUR | PART SIX

Minho stretches his tired body, glancing over at you in the corner of the room. You're currently taking some calls to sort out Chan's upcoming schedules, and he can't bite back a small smile while watching you. After your fight, Chan made you stay by making you responsible for his own schedule and wanting to keep you around. 

They're taking a short break from practice, and Minho is glad to rest his body for a bit. He glances around the room and frowns as he can't find Minjun and his current assistant. “Y/nnie?” he asks gently as you end your call. “Where's our boy?”

“O-Our-,” you stammer, eyes widening at him. 

The silence that follows is loud. Around the room, heads turn, the abrupt outburst of movement marking a collective interest in the unfolding drama, or rather, the slip of the tongue that Minho just let loose. The members, more or less familiar with the private dynamics slowly simmering between you and Minho, can hardly contain their amusement.

"Did Minho just say 'our boy'?" Jisung repeats, his voice teasing as he nudges Chan with his elbow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, Minho, since when did Y/nnie and you start sharing custody?” he chimes in, laughter tinting his voice as he looks over at you both, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Minho, usually so composed, feels a warm flush spreading up his neck, coloring his cheeks as he meets your startled gaze. He hadn’t even realized what he'd said until it was echoed back to him, and now, caught in the playful teasing of his friends, he finds himself grappling for a response.

"I just meant—" Minho starts, trying to backpedal, but Felix cuts him off, practically bouncing in his seat with delight.

"Aww, look at him! He’s embarrassed! Minho hyung, it’s cute, really. Embrace the family vibes!" Felix teases, his voice light and teasing.

You, still slightly flustered by Minho’s unexpected inclusivity, try to regain your composure. "Minjun is just with Hyejin," you manage to say, redirecting the conversation to the young boy's whereabouts. They went somewhere else to play. He should be nearby."

Yet, the teasing doesn’t stop there. Throughout the rest of the break, the members throw in casual jokes about family planning and shared parenting. Their banter is light but pointed, a humorous acknowledgment of the evolving relationship dynamics within their circle.

As the laughter and jokes continue, Minho finds himself looking over at you, and something about your shy smile, the way you're trying to hide your own amusement, settles the warmth in him more firmly. It's a reassurance, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t misspeak after all.

As practice resumes and the members scatter back to their positions, Minho pulls you aside for a quick, private word, his expression earnest. "Hey, about earlier," he begins, his tone soft, apologetic. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It just... came out."

You shake your head, dismissing his concern with a gentle smile. "It’s okay, Minho. Really, it was sweet," you assure him, your voice just as soft. "I guess it’s just a bit new to me, but not unwelcome."

Minho’s eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he allows himself a small, relieved smile. "It felt right," he admits. You already feel like family, you know?” 

The word 'family' hangs between you, a weighty yet comforting promise of what’s slowly knitting together. 

"Thank you, Minho," you reply, your heart light, warmed by the sincerity of the moment. "That means a lot to me. I'll go check on him, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, watching you leave. 

As soon as you leave, Changbin asks, “Do you know Minjun's new nickname for Y/nnie?” 

“Huh?” Minho frowns at him, grabbing his bottle of water. 

“He called him his new mum,” he laughs, and Minho's blush deepens. “He also said you're like Lix and Chan hyung.”

“Oh, you can't tell only half of the story,” Jisung protests. He added, “He said you're kissing like Chan and Lix.” 

Minho chokes on his water, tears shooting to his eyes as he coughs. Seungmin pats his back forcefully and starts laughing at him. “He what?” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. 

“Yeah, he even showed Chan hyung that it's not on the cheek but on the lips,” Changbin snickers. 

Minho blushes furiously before dropping back onto the floor with a groan. “Well, he's not lying,” he says, and his friends start laughing. Minho inhales shakily, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I still don't know if it's a good idea. I don't want to pull him into the public aspect of my life. I'm also not quite sure if I'm what he needs,” he admits, and they all grow quiet again. “There's a lot of bullshit in the back of my mind about what happened with Yejun. I don't feel like I'm enough for Minjun either.”

“Does it feel right being with Y/nnie, though? If everything else wouldn't matter for a second…does it?” Felix asks gently. 

“It does,” he nods. 

“Maybe being with Y/n would help your insecurities regarding Minjun,” Hyunjin reminds him. 

“You wouldn't be the only parent he has then..sort of,” Jeongin agrees. 

Minho hums agreeingly and is about to answer when the door opens. He doesn't have to turn around to identify the small steps echoing on the floor. Minjun closes the distance between them and crawls into his lap, hiding his face in his shirt. Minho frowns and wraps his arms around him as he feels him tremble. “Baby, what's wrong?” he asks worriedly. 

“Hyejin is mean,” he sniffles. Chan looks up and frowns at Minho. 

“Mean?” he asks confused. “Did she say something bad?” Chan asks him gently. 

“She said shut up,” Minjun answers, looking at him with teary eyes. “I just showed her my drawing.”

Minho's heart sinks at how timid he sounds. He cuddles him close and kisses his head. “It's okay, baby. Do you want to show me instead?” he asks soothingly, and Minjun nods. 

“I'll handle it,” Chan promises and gets up quickly.

“Where's your drawing, mate?” Felix asks encouragingly, and Minjun gets up, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve. 

-

Chan leans against the wall in the elevator, watching you cautiously. You two just got back from handling the situation with Minho’s new assistant, who seems hopelessly overwhelmed by taking care of Minjun. “You love him, don't you?” he asks. 

“Minjun?” you ask. 

“No, Min,” he chuckles softly. You remain silent for a moment, almost squirming under Chan's observant gaze. “Do you love him?”

“Why?” you ask quietly. “Would that be an issue?”

Chan tilts his head at you. “As long as you don't hurt him, there's absolutely no issue. I'm just asking because he means a lot to us. Minjun does, too. Minho has been hurt very badly before, and I won't let that happen again.”

“I know; he's scared of getting hurt again,” you nod gently and fidget with your hands. “I do love him. Minjun and he mean a lot to me, and I have no intention of hurting either of them.”

“Okay,” Chan nods gently. “Minjun called you his new mum,” he smirked, and you bit back a laugh. 

“Sounds like him,” you giggle. “Really, Chan, I don't want to be a distraction or anything. I know that's probably easier with you and Felix, but-.”

Chan giggles softly and shakes his head. “Since we're both part of the group, every argument carries a certain risk. I think you being with them takes a lot off Minho's shoulders with Minjun.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and nods gently. “I'll be there if you need anything. I'd rather have you two get some help than get into another argument that lasts for weeks. He doesn't do well with conflict,” he laughs. 

“Me neither,” you laugh. 

“And you're sure you want to take over organizing both of our schedules? With Minjun?” he asks gently. 

“Oh, Minho's schedule can be done whenever he's available. Minjun doesn't feel like a job, and the older he gets, the less he'll be around the whole day,” you chuckle softly. “Also, let's not get ahead of ourselves; Minho and I haven't named our situation yet.”

Chan hums softly. “If it takes too long, let me know,” he smirks, leading you back to the practice room. 

Minjun is sitting on Felix's lap as you enter the room, his drawings spread out on the floor with the others inspecting them closely. He explains them in detail, amusing everyone present with his sweet way to do so. Minho watches him fondly, and looking at him you realize that this soft side of him made him stand out to you in the first place. Chan takes his place next to Felix, hand resting on his thigh naturally as he joins the discussion of Minjun's masterpiece. Minho reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap and resting his head on your shoulder. You're a little surprised by the sudden display of affection here with the others, but the knowing smiles tell you that not only Chan knows. “What happened with Minjun?” he asks quietly. 

“Hyejin yelled at him. She didn't realize that being your assistant comes with taking care of Minjun properly. She had already refused to play with him, so he told her about his toys and drawings because he was bored, which annoyed her.

“Told you your replacement is shit,” he says quietly enough for only you to hear. 

“Idiot,” you chuckle fondly, smiling as he intertwines your hands. “Well, I'm officially your assistant again. I won't let anyone treat Minjun like that.”

Minho's hold on you tightens. “That's why I trust you with him.” You squeeze his hands lovingly, leaning back against him.

-

Minho giggles stupidly as he watches you stitch up the back of Leebit’s head. You've just spent a while trying to figure out a way to include some of his cologne in the plushie to make it smell like him for Minjun, much to his amusement. 

“You're so easily entertained sometimes,” you roll your eyes at him fondly. Minho circles the table, steps behind you, and wraps his arms around your waist. 

“You're amusing to watch sometimes,” he gives back, kissing your cheek. “But adorable.”

“Well, thanks. Not my fault your son is so attached to you,” you tease him gently, smiling as he runs his hands down your thighs, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Hey, how is the sheer amount of love my son has for me my fault, huh?” he asks, gently squeezing your thighs. “It's not like I'd get what's so special,” he snorts. 

“You're his father, and compared to some other people we won't name here, you're actually there,” you say, and Minho bites back a laugh. You shake your head, focusing on the stitching, though the warmth of Minho's presence makes it hard to concentrate. "I think you underestimate your charm, Minho."

"I could say the same about you," he whispers back, his voice low and affectionate.

As you finish up with Leebit, Minho gently takes it from you, examining your work with an appreciative eye. "Perfect. He won't even notice the fix. You're amazing, Y/nnie."

The praise, sincere and simple, stirs something deep within you, and you find yourself turning to face him, his hands still circled around your waist. "I just don't want him to feel so alone whenever you're gone," you say.

Minho nods, his gaze softening. "You're so sweet. Don't you ever leave us, dear."

"Even when it gets complicated?" you ask, needing to hear his answer. You haven’t been this close to someone in ages, and you know Minho is a lot further than you in a few areas, but his prior hurt can’t be disregarded.

"Especially then," Minho affirms, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "We're in this together, right?"

"Right," you agree, leaning in to kiss him—a sweet, affirming connection that promises more than words could.

-

The ring of Minho’s phone cuts through the quiet of his living room. Glancing at the caller ID, his stomach tightens uncomfortably; Yejun’s name flashes across the screen, bringing with it a cascade of unwelcome emotions.

He hesitates for a moment before picking up. “Yejun.”

“Minho,” her voice comes through, falsely cheerful. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Minjun. I want to take him to the U.S. with me for a while. Just a trip. It could be good for him.”

Minho’s grip on the phone tightens, his other hand balling into a fist at his side. Did she already forget the debacle from last time?  “Yejun, we’ve talked about this. Minjun doesn’t want that. Not without me.”

There’s a pause, and when she speaks again, her tone has cooled significantly. “You just don’t want to let me have him,” she says.

“That’s not it,” Minho replies, struggling to keep his voice even. “It’s about what he needs. And right now, he needs stability, something you walking in and out of his life doesn’t provide. Especially not after last time.”

Yejun’s laugh is sharp, biting. “Oh, now you’re the perfect father, huh? Wasn’t so perfect when we were married. Always away, always working. You were a shit husband, Minho.”

The words sting more than Minho likes to admit. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that his being away often hadn’t been the core issue. “I was not perfect,” he continues, the weight of their failed marriage always a tender wound. “And I am sorry for my part in what happened between us. But this isn’t about us, Yejun. It’s about Minjun.”

Silence stretches on the other end before Yejun’s voice cracks through, icy and menacing. “You’re keeping my son from me, Minho. You might fool everyone else with your doting father act, but I know the truth. I know who you really are.”

“You don't know shit, Yejun,” he says firmly. “You haven't been there for the past four years. Don't act like you know anything about me and my relationship with Minjun.”

“It doesn't matter if it's true or not if someone else believes me,” she says lowly. 

Minho feels a chill run down his spine. “Yejun, please. Let’s not do this. If you want to see Minjun, you can visit here and spend time with him where he’s comfortable. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

“Fair?” Yejun spits the word out like it tastes bitter. “You expect me just to accept scraps of time with my own son? You’ve turned him against me, Minho.”

“That’s not true. Minjun is old enough to know what he wants. And right now, he doesn’t want to go with you,” Minho insists, his voice firm. “He’s happy here, with his life here.”

There’s a venomous pause before Yejun’s voice lowers, a dark promise threading through her words. “You may have won this little round, Minho, but this isn’t over. I will have my son back. And I’ll destroy your life if I have to for taking him away from me. I’ll make you pay yourself stupid once I take him back in.”

“You chose to go away. You handed over full custody to me; technically, I could make sure you never see him again, which I don't because that's bullshit. But don't twist things,” Minho’s heart races with a mix of anger and fear—anger at her threats and fear of what she might be capable of. “Yejun, don’t do this. Don’t make threats. Let’s try to handle this like adults, for Minjun’s sake.”

Yejun’s laugh is cold, devoid of any real humor. “Oh, honey. This is just the beginning. I left because I had to, not because I wanted to. You made our life impossible. Remember that.”

With a click, she hangs up, leaving Minho staring at his phone, her words echoing in his head. He slumps back into the sofa, the weight of the call settling over him like a heavy blanket.

After a few moments of stunned silence, he stands, pacing the living room. The threat Yejun posed was not just to his tranquility but to Minjun’s well-being. He knew he couldn’t take her words lightly. Yejun was unpredictable, and if her past actions were any indication, she was capable of following through on her threats.

He needed to be proactive. First, he would need to talk to his legal team about securing his custody of Minjun, ensuring that Yejun couldn’t just take him without consent. Then, he would need to sit down with Minjun and prepare him, just in case Yejun tried to contact him directly.

By the time you arrive back home with Minjun, he is mentally exhausted but knows the day is far from over.

Minjun greets him with a smile and runs into his arms the moment he reaches him. “Daddy! I'm home!”

Minho hugs him tightly, lifting him up and spinning him around, Minjun’s laughter a balm to his frayed nerves. Setting him down, he kneels before him, looking into his son’s eyes. “Buddy, we need to talk about something important,” he begins, his voice soft but serious.

Minjun’s face sobers, sensing the gravity in his father’s tone. “Is everything okay, Daddy?”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Minho reassures, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We just have some things to sort out, you and I. But no matter what, we’re together in this. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Minjun nods, trust shining in his eyes.

As you sit down together, Minho’s heart swells with love for his son. No matter what Yejun threatened, he would protect Minjun and ensure his happiness. They were a team, and together, they could face anything - even this.

Minho fills you in quietly later as Minjun is playing on the carpet not far from you. Your heart sinks at her threats, and you almost feel sorry for her twisted view of what happened. That couldn't be healthy. 

-

Minho’s sleep is uneasy, his dreams filled with vague, unsettling images. He awakes with a start to the intrusive buzzing of his phone. He reaches out groggily, the glow from the screen harsh against the dim light of early morning. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Minho’s gaze settles on a flood of notifications—missed calls, texts, and several urgent notifications from various news apps.

As he scrolls through them, a cold knot forms in his stomach. Each message seems to echo the same shocking revelation: “Yejun reveals Minho is dating his son’s babysitter!” and “Questions arise over Minho’s capabilities as a parent!” His heart pounds as he reads snippets of articles, each one painting him in an increasingly unfavorable light.

Beside him, you stir, your brow furrowing in sleep. Minho’s first instinct is to protect you from the storm that is about to break. He slips out of bed, his mind racing as he tries to process the information. How had things spiraled out of control so quickly? He knew Yejun was bitter about their past, but to go this far was something he hadn't anticipated.

He paces the room, his phone almost slipping from his sweaty palm as he tries to call Chan, his first person to turn to when his public life's falling apart. Chan had a way of handling these situations that made him feel safe. After several rings, a groggy voice answers.

“Min? It’s...what time is it?” Chan sounds disoriented, but he snaps to attention as soon as Minho begins to speak.

“I'm sorry for waking you, Channie hyung,” he says quietly, feeling a little guilty for disrupting his already fucked sleep schedule. 

Chan sits up at the timid sound of his voice. Minho doesn't call him ‘Channie hyung’ often; It's usually when he's feeling anxious or very thankful about something. He doubts it's the latter. “Minnie, what's wrong?” he asks gently, slipping out of bed to let Felix keep sleeping. 

“Channie, it’s all over the news. Yejun... she told them about Y/nnie and me. She said I can’t take care of Minjun properly. It’s a mess,” Minho’s voice is a mix of anger and desperation.

“What?!” Chan’s voice suddenly becomes sharp and angry. “She did what? Hold on, I’m checking this now.”

Silence fills the line for a few moments before Chan speaks again, his voice icy. “I see it. This is bullshit, Minho. She’s crossed a line. I’m calling the PR team. We need to handle this swiftly.”

“Thanks, hyung. I...I don’t know what to do,” Minho confesses, running a hand through his hair. His heart feels like it is being squeezed in his chest, the anxiety making it hard to breathe.

“Just stay put and try to keep calm. I’ll handle the media part. You just... make sure Y/nnie is okay. He's going to be dragged into this mess too,” Chan advises, his voice calm, but Minho can hear the underlying strain.

Minho nods, though Chan can’t see it. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Thanks, Channie, seriously.”

“Always, mate. We’re in this together,” Chan reassures him before hanging up.

-

Minho slipped out of the house quietly soon after, relieved that Minjun and you were still peacefully asleep. He needs to clear his head to handle everything calmly, and Chan will be busy for a while now. 

Minho steps into the practice room and stretches his tired body, warming up. He turns on the music a little more quietly than usual and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths as he prepares his body for the usual strain of dancing. 

He grabs his phone after a while and swallows hard. It isn't just the messages or missed calls—it's headlines, the kind that blur the lines between personal and public in the most invasive ways. “Stray Kids’ Minho’s Ex-Wife Claims Neglect—Says He’s Too Busy Dating Babysitter to Care for Son.” The words are crafted to scandalize, and they do their job perfectly.

The news is spreading fast, and with each passing minute, the narrative is slipping further from his control. Yejun had not only threatened him in private but also taken her grievances to the most public domain possible. The implications were catastrophic, affecting not just him but also Minjun and you, who had been nothing but supportive and loving towards both him and his son.

Minho gets lost in their newest choreo, moving his body precisely to the music, and tries to stop thinking about it for a while. Chan finds him there about an hour later, turning the music off as the song ends. “Thought I'd find you here.”

Minho pants softly and grabs the towel Chan holds out for him, wiping his face. “Needed to clear my head.”

The room is silent, heavy with unsaid words, until Chan finally speaks, his voice tight with anger and concern. “This is messed up, Min. She can’t just throw you to the wolves like this.”

Minho sighs, rubbing his temples. “I know, but she’s doing it anyway. She’s making it all public and dragging Y/n into it, too. It’s getting out of hand, and I’m worried about what this is doing to Minjun.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, and his protectiveness over his friend is evident. “We’ll fix this, okay? I talked to the PR team to see how we can counteract these claims. And I’m here, whatever you need.”

Minho looks up, startled as the door opens and Felix steps inside, followed by the rest of their closest friends. “Sorry, we're a little late.”

They all gather on the floor next to Minho and Chan, reassuringly patting his back as they do. “Let's deal with this bitch once and for all,” Jisung says firmly, feeling the need to protect little Minjun from this mess. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Seungmin asks, glancing at Chan questioningly. 

“Everyone of us will publish a statement; I already talked that through. Minho shouldn't have any issues proving he's the one worthy of custody in case she snaps and takes him to court. Hyunjin, Innie, you have an interview coming up; be prepared for dumb questions.”

“I'll make them look stupid instead,” Hyunjin grins, pulling a weak laugh from Minho. 

“Have you talked to your parents yet?” Jeongin asks Minho, who shakes his head. 

“I forgot about that,” he admits, already searching for his phone. 

“Might be a good idea to clear things up with them first,” Changbin agrees. 

“Whatever happens, we have your back,” Felix promises.

“Thank you guys, really. Just…if you find ways to ease Y/nnie with this, I'd be grateful. He's not exactly prepared for the public’s shit as we are.”

“Of course,” Chan assures him. “Now go call your parents.”

The support is reassuring, but the problem looms large and unyielding. As the day progresses, you come to find Minho, your expression fraught with worry. Seeing you so distressed adds another layer of guilt to Minho’s already heavy conscience.

“Hey,” he says softly as you hand over Minjun to Jisung, who leaves you some space. 

“Hey,” you echo, swallowing hard. “Minho, maybe I should just leave,” you suggest hesitantly, the words paining you even as they leave your lips. “If I’m not around, she won’t have another reason to attack you like this.”

Minho looks up sharply, his eyes locking with yours. “Y/n, no. Leaving won’t fix this. It’s not your presence that’s the problem—it’s Yejun. And I’m not going to let her chase you away. You mean too much to me, to Minjun.”

Your eyes fill with tears, touched by his words but still shaken by the rapid unraveling of your quiet life. “But Minho, this is getting so big. What if it affects Minjun more than it already has? What if your career—”

He shakes his head, hands finding yours. “Look, whatever happens, we face it together. Yejun is trying to isolate us and make us feel weak by dividing us. I won’t let her. I love you, Y/nnie, and I need you to know that.”

The affirmation, so heartfelt and desperate, breaks through your resolve to distance yourself. You nod, squeezing his hands back, finding strength in his conviction.

“We’ll deal with this,” Minho continues, his voice firm despite the chaos around you. “I’ll talk to the lawyers, and see what legal avenues we have to protect ourselves and Minjun. And Chan is right—we’ll work with the PR team to set the record straight.”

True to his word, Minho arranged meetings with his legal team, and together with the public relations department, they began crafting a response that would address the allegations head-on. Chan was a constant presence, offering both strategic advice and moral support, and his friendship was a steady force in the tumult.

As the week progressed, strategies were implemented. The company issued a statement denouncing the unfounded accusations and highlighting Minho’s dedication as a father, accompanied by testimonials from colleagues and friends outside the group who vouched for his character and his role in Minjun’s life.

Yet, despite the countermeasures, the shadow of the scandal lingered. The press was relentless, and the public's appetite for celebrity drama was insatiable. Minho found himself scrutinizing every decision and every interaction with Minjun and you, aware that the eyes of the world were now critically watching.

Minho asked you to move in with them so it'd be easier for him to keep you safe. It didn't change much for you since you've been staying over a lot already and barely went back home. So, of course, you said yes. 

Two months later 

Felix's birthday is just around the corner, and you're almost a little surprised when he comes to you to invite you all. He giggles at your stunned look and tilts his head at you. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I'm just…did you ask Min?” you ask nervously. 

“No,” Felix shakes his head. “He's busy right now, and I'm inviting you as you are part of his and, therefore, our family.”

“Oh,” you nod gently, a shy smile covering your lips. “Sure, I'd love to be there,” you nod. “I bet Minjun would love it as well, and Minho will surely be there.”

“Lovely,” he smiles and gives you a gentle hug. 

Minho later walks in, Minjun sitting on his shoulders with a wide grin. “Y/nnie!” Minjun shouts and waves at you. “Look, I'm tall!”

“Oh yeah, you're really tall now, buddy!” you assure him. 

Minho giggles softly, stopping in front of you and greeting you with a soft kiss. “Hey there,” he says fondly. 

“Hey,” you smile back at him. “Ready to go home?” you ask, and Minho hums softly. 

“Minjun is staying over at Chan and Felix's tonight,” he says, and you frown at him, surprised. 

“The whole night?” you ask, and Minho hums agreeing. Over the past two months, you've been letting Minjun stay with all of the boys for a few hours each. It helped him grow less dependent on Minho, and he became more confident about staying somewhere else for a while. Minjun seemed happy, and Minho was more than glad. It allowed you all to grow together. “What's the occasion?” you ask curiously. Chan and Felix had been the ones Minjun loved staying with a lot. Chan once told Minho how much Felix loved having him around, and so the two of them made sure their boyfriend and son got what they loved. 

“Maybe I just want to take you out for dinner without having to glance at the time,” he smiles softly, letting Minjun down as he spots his beloved ‘Changnin’. Minho’s hands find your waist, eyes growing soft the longer he looks at you. “Maybe I want to kiss you stupid after without worrying about a certain someone bursting in and going ‘eww’.”

You giggle softly at the memory of Minjun catching Minho kissing you a little more passionately than he'd do in front of him. “Sounds lovely,” you chuckle. 

Minho hums gently, searching your eyes as if he doesn't know if he should keep talking or not. “Maybe…Maybe I'd be ready to take the next step,” he says, and your eyes widen. “No pressure or anything, though. Just..if it feels right if we're both comfortable tonight…I think I'm ready.”

You can't bite back the giddy smile covering your lips. Over the months you've been with Minho, you have never gone much further than kissing. He once covered your neck with loving little bites, but you didn't get much further with Minjun, only a few doors further. You've been able to tell how Minho grew a little impatient every time things were developing into something more, but there was simply no chance you two could take the time you'd need for your first time together with a child around the house. “You're sure?” you ask gently, and Minho nods. 

“I'm sure, my love,” he says sweetly, making your stomach flutter already. 

“I love you, Min,” you whisper, watching his eyes sparkle with joy. 

“I love you too, Y/nnie,” he says softly. “Come on, let's make sure Minjun is with Chan and Felix,” Minho suggests with a playful nudge, guiding you toward them. 

Felix is already fooling around with Minjun, and Chan is watching them fondly. “Are you ready to go?” Chan asks as you reach them. 

“Yeah, everything is done,” Minho nods, smirking at Minjun. “Are you ready to stay with Lix and Channie?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods happily, and Minho crouches down in front of him.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? Uncle Channie will take you to the studio with him if you want to,” he tells him, gently squeezing his little hands. “Be good, yeah? No discussions about bedtime either, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods eagerly and tightly hugs him goodbye. “I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too, dumpling,” Minho smiles and kisses his cheek, gently brushing back his curls. 

You gently rest your hand on his shoulder, silently reminding him to let go of him. It’s also the first night for Minho without his boy since Yejun left. Minho does, and Minjun’s hugging you goodbye tightly. Chan chuckles softly, noticing Minho’s worried frown. “I’ll return him intact, I promise,” he winks at him, and Minho relaxes with a chuckle. 

Felix lifts up Minjun, smiling reassuringly at Minho. “We’ll take good care of him,” he tells him.

“I know,” he assures them gently. “Just new for me as well,” he laughs, gently poking Minjun’s cheek. “Be good, yeah?”

“You too,” he says, making everyone giggle. 

Minho rolls his eyes fondly, winking at him. “Yeah, okay.” His hand finds yours as they leave, and you squeeze it softly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s growing up way too fast,” he chuckles with a soft sigh. 

“Mhm, yeah, I can’t believe you saying this either,” you snort teasingly.

“Shut up, will you?” he laughs, gently shoving your side. “Alright, let’s go,” he gives himself a push.

The two of you reach his car outside the building. As you both settle in, a sense of nervous excitement fills the air - a mixture of anticipation for the evening ahead and the deep emotional connection that has grown between you two. 

Back at home, the two of you get ready, and you let Minho match your outfits since he has a way better eye for what’s needed in public. You barely got used to people taking pictures of him when you were only his assistant, but now you had to excel yourself as his boyfriend. Minho does his best to make you feel comfortable and look presentable for pictures whenever you’re out together. Once he’s done, he hums to himself happily, smacking your butt lovingly. Typical.

The drive is quiet but comfortable, filled with shared glances and soft smiles, each exchange weaving a deeper layer of intimacy. As you arrive at the restaurant, Minho’s hand finds yours, his grip reassuring and warm. You soon blend out the people around you, focusing on him only. This isn’t very hard to do because something about Minho caught your attention long before you started dating. 

Minho is more relaxed lately now that the whole mess with Yejun is settled. All of his friends repeatedly spoke out for him, and two weeks ago, Minho attended a press conference dealing with the matter. You know that hadn’t been easy for him, but he had been rather open and honest, making sure all the rumors were addressed and settled. He also made sure to clarify that you’ve been working for him for years, slowly taking more and more care of Minjun and growing closer with him in the process. She did her best to take him back to court, but looking at the circumstances, it only benefited Minho, who refused all of the payments she’d have to make for dragging his name through dirt and spreading lies.

After dinner, Minho suggests a walk, and you wander through a nearby park adorned with twinkling lights and soft shadows. You stop beneath a street lantern, its soft glow painting the scene in an almost magical light. Minho turns to you, his eyes reflecting the twinkling lights, his face etched with tenderness.

“Y/nnie,” he begins, his voice a whisper of emotion. “Being with you has made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I feel like I can finally breathe like I’m more myself than I’ve ever been.” You listen, your heart swelling with each word, the sincerity in his voice anchoring the swirling emotions inside you. “And I want to share everything with you. Not just the dinners or the walks, or the laughs we have with Minjun. I want to share all the moments, even those we’ve yet to live,” he continues, his hand reaching up to gently caress your cheek. “I love you so much, and I’ll be there as long as you let me.”

The emotional weight of his words pulls you closer, and you find your lips meeting in a kiss that speaks volumes. It’s tender at first, explorative, and as if each of you is memorizing the feel of the other. The kiss deepens; it grows more passionate, fueled by the months of growing love and restrained desire.

Minho’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. His hands trace the lines of your back, pressing you into his warmth. You respond in kind, weaving your hands into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it’s all that exists in the world - the two of you, beneath the warm lights, lost in each other.

Eventually, the need for air forces you apart, but only slightly. Foreheads pressed together, breathing mingled, you share a quiet laugh - a moment of pure happiness and mutual understanding.

“Let’s go home?” you ask gently, and he hums in response.

The walk back to the car is filled with easy silence, which is comfortable and reassuring. Once home, Minho leads you to your bedroom, his hand steady in yours, a silent promise of what’s to come - a night of exploring, of loving, of affirming the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His lips entangle yours in a passionate kiss as he silently closes the door behind you. The back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and you both drop down into it. Minho hovers over you, eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration and love. He’s bracing himself next to your head, caging your legs in with his knees, and leans down, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss. His body moves on its own, searching yours, and the minute your hands find his hips, he lowers himself onto his elbows, closing the distance between your bodies. “Shit,” he mutters against your lips as you arch into him.

You reach down, testing the waters and palming him through his pants. Minho’s hips stutter, a soft moan leaving him, head dropping against your shoulder. “Minho?” you ask softly, noticing how desperately his body reacts to your every touch without him even fully realizing it. “When was the last time you had some time for yourself…like this?”

Minho laughs, planting a row of gentle kisses against your neck. “My sweet love, you have no idea,” he chuckles. “Remember that clingy kid of mine?” he asks, making you laugh as well. 

“Right,” you giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“Just tell me what you need, love; I’ll do it,” Minho promises gently, smiling down at you fondly. “We have time.”

Minho’s whispered promise lingers in the air, the warmth of his smile making your heart flutter. The room feels isolated from the world, a private sanctuary where the past complexities and external pressures fade into the background. Here, it’s just the two of you, bound by an intimacy that has deepened with each shared struggle and joy.

You guide his hand beneath your shirt, letting him explore your bare skin. Your breath hitches as he follows your silent directions with attentive care. Minho’s touch is skilled, a perfect blend of tender and assured, driven by his desire to bring you comfort and pleasure. His eyes never leave yours, seeking confirmation and encouragement, his own desire mirrored in the deepening blush of your cheeks.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. His fingertips trace patterns along the waistband of your trousers that leave you breathless.

“More than okay,” you manage to reply, your voice a whisper caught between sighs. The room fills with the sound of your intertwined breaths, a testament to the closeness that both of you cherish.

Minho’s movements become more purposeful. His free hand cradles your face, his thumb caressing your jawline as he watches the effects of his actions reflected in your expressions. The world narrows down to the shifting shadows cast by the dim light, the soft bedding beneath you, and the man who has come to mean so much. He has barely touched you and you’re already melting into a puddle. How the hell would you survive this?

PART FOUR | PART SIX

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[jasmineoolongtea]

hii!! i recently just started following you and i don’t wanna overload you with anything so i stress that i urge you to take your time and if you feel like you need to tweak anything then you can since i noticed you barely opened requests :)) i was just wondering if you could write something ( whether it be headcanons or a fic ) about gojo having a jujutsu sorcerer for a girlfriend / partner and his students don’t know so they’re all shocked when they just see this badass person next to gojo and he just casually introduces them as his partner lol. just a thought!! make sure to take care of yourself 💕

a/n: thank you smmmm for the kind words <333 yes omg i love this idea and honestly, i imagine gojo pretending to be chill on the outside but on the inside he's fangirling the same way his students are over his partner cause he's just so whipped and down bad for them jdjsndnsbd

"Shhhh! Quiet down, you two or you're gonna get us all caught." Nobara hisses through her teeth at Megumi and Yuji, trying her best to be quiet. It was quite a comical sight actually, the three students were all stacked on top of each other as they all attempted to crane their necks into the doorway as discretely as they possibly could.

"I still don't understand why we can't just ask like normal people." Megumi sighs, clearly exasperated at his friend's antics.

"You're such a buzzkill, Fushiguro." Nobara scolds him over her shoulder. It was like he didn't even understand the gravity of this situation.

This wasn't a situation where they could just waltz in and chat it up like regular unless they were intent on embarrassing themselves. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the current rising star of the jujutsu world: the newly minted special-grade sorcerer L/N Y/N who was famed for being highly elusive, never being in one place for too long to be tied down to somewhere.

Rumours and stories were constantly swirling about you ranging from the more serious ones about your incredible feats of jujutsu and how you managed to exorcise a grade 1 curse for one of your very first missions without breaking a single sweat to more silly ones like that you only wash your face with the purest spring water that was imported from the Swiss Alps and that allegedly you and Gojo Satoru were seeing each other. She thought the last one was particularly dumb as she was sure that a person of your calibre would have better taste than to date their man-child of a teacher, even if he was the strongest. Whatever it was, Nobara was not going to let those two ruin her chances of possibly being able to talk with you face to face.

Above her, Yuji groans out in pain as he feels an elbow jam into his stomach.

"Hey! That hurts!" Yuji complains loudly, his grip tightening around the wooden door frame.

"Can't you be in pain more quietly?" Nobara asks and with that, the two of them were sent into a bickering spat as they traded harsh whispers and snappy comments. However, this would prove to be their end as Megumi eventually loses his balance from all of the commotion above him and tumbles onto the floor with the other two following suit as they land in what can only be described as a failed human pretzel.

Unfortunately, their crash was not as quiet as Nobara was hoping for as one of the office's inhabitants stood up from his seat, seemingly made aware of their presence. "Oh? It seems like we have some eavesdroppers in our midst."

You hum to yourself, your back still facing the doorway as you turn to your white-haired companion. "Is that true?"

"Yes, I think I might know who they are as well. If only they would be so brave enough to reveal themselves." Gojo sighs dramatically, even bringing a hand to his chest as if to feign sympathy. You can't help but giggle softly at his behaviour.

The three of them take that as their cue to stand up, dusting themselves off as they slowly make their way into the office in a single file line. When Nobara sees you, she can't even let herself fully fangirl because the amount of embarrassment she has at getting caught trying to eavesdrop is far outweighing it right now.

Gojo makes his way towards his students as they stand lined up, his hands rubbing together and a devious grin on his face as he puts on his best menacing voice. "Now now now, what do we have here?"

"Satoru, take it easy on them. I'm sure they meant no harm by it." You place a hand on his shoulder as you stroll up to his side. His arms immediately fall to his side as he melts under your touch.

An adorable pout graces his features, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to put on his best puppy dog look as he whines at you, "Awww, but you're ruining my funnn. I don't get that many opportunities to do this."

"Sensei, they know you by your first name?" Yuji questions, his head tilted slightly to the side as he tries to figure out what relationship you two could possibly have.

A sly snicker is heard from Gojo as he quirks his eyebrows towards you. "They know me in a lot more ways than just that" he quips back, his tone bordering on being an outright innuendo.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him, clearly used to his playful nature by this point, and give him a light shove on the shoulder to which he pretends to exaggeratedly nurse in pain.

"Sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is L/N Y/N and I'm a special-grade sorcerer here on a visit to Tokyo Jujustu High." You smile warmly at your boyfriend's students, your hands clasped in front of you as you greet them.

Nobara could feel her breath hitch in her throat as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my god, you, her idol, were actually right in front of her and were acknowledging her. She swears she could die happy right this instance but that would mean that she wouldn't get to take full advantage of the chance to talk to you fully. With that, she snaps out of her star-struck daze and politely inquires, "If you don't mind me asking L/N-san, what are you here for?"

"Oh, they're here to visit yours truly, me!" Gojo chimes in, a megawatt grin on his face with a sense of pride radiating off of him as he motions to himself.

A tsk sound escapes Nobara, clearly distrustful of her teacher's statement. "Yeah right, they have way more important things to be doing than that."

"But it's true though! My lovely partner is here to pay a surprise visit to me!"

"There's no way that that's true. You and them?" As if to punctuate her point, she points at you and Gojo standing side by side and firmly shakes her head. "Nuh uh. They wouldn't date the likes of you."

A soft smack is heard as Gojo theatrically clutches his chest, stumbling back from where he stands to drape himself over you. "It wounds me to hear you say that Kugisaki." He claims, his expression twisted into one of faux pain. When he turns to face you, his demeanour suddenly switches as he leans in towards your ear, a roughish smile on his face with a faintly seductive lilt to his voice. "Maybe we should kiss to prove that it's true."

"Don't be crude, Satoru, they're your students and they're right in front of us." You try to brush him off of you in an attempt to spare his students from becoming witnesses to their teacher's love for PDA but he doesn't let go of his grip, instead choosing to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck as if trying to coax you to stay with him in his embrace. Like always, you relent to his touch with your fingers carding through his snowy locks, a soft sigh of approval leaving his lips.

There's a beat of silence as Nobara and Yuji try to process what they've just learned and the fact that they've just seen a visual confirmation of it before that peace is shattered and they erupt into a thousand questions. You field all of their burning questions ranging from ones about you to about your relationship with Gojo with grace, amused and endeared by their excitement and insatiable curiosity. Secretly, it warms your heart deeply that Gojo and his students are so comfortable with each other and that he can be himself around them without the pressure of the greater Jujutsu world on his back.

You turn to look at the clock and sigh at how fast time has gone by. "Alright, I'll see you at home Satoru and Megumi." You comment, packing up your belongings as you get ready to leave to attend to some business. Gojo leans down to your height as you place a lingering kiss against his cheek and wave him and his students goodbye.

Unblinking, Yuji and Nobara turn to each other and then to Megumi before they exclaim simultaneously. "You all live together!?"

Oh boy, Megumi knows he's going to be in for an earful with that.

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Sensación del Bloque

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - fluff and cussing ig

✧.* Summary - Joost finds out about his friend's new neighbor and doesn't act upon introductions until he sees her in all of her beauty.

✧.* Extra- a couple things... reader is implied to be latina, implied to have a more tanner/browner/darker complex, and reader is going to have acrylic nails and gold jewelry cuz those are my favorite things in the world rn… also i dont speak dutch so the highlighted parts are the ppl speaking dutch. ALSOO reader has a place holder smell (vanilla) but yall can change it if you want ALSOOO reader doesn’t speak dutch okay im done now

✧.* Word Count - 1,319

Joost always enjoyed meeting new people. It always allows him to share his work with others. He can be shy about his work but it's inevitable for people to know about him and his art. People never know when they are going to meet someone new unless it's planned.

Just like any other day for an artist, Joost was working with his friend, Antu, on the production of some beats for a new song in his friend’s apartment. “Man, I'm kind of hungry I'm not going to lie,” Antu randomly said, taking his eyes off his computer to look at Joost. They’ve been working on beats since the morning and being too focused on work, they forgot about the basic essentials a human body needs. Food.

“Well, what do you want to get? I don’t feel like driving so pick a place near here,” Joost replied.

Joost felt like it was an eternity letting Antu pick a fast food place. When he finally decided where to get food, they placed an order through the phone for pick up and waited. It was a quiet couple of minutes of waiting until Antu broke the silence, “I got a new neighbor”

“Seriously?”

“Yup. I’ve been trying to talk to her but she kind of ignores me. Like she’s playing hard to get,” Antu shared.

Joist gave him a confused look, “I thought you were talking to Sofie. Did you guys stop talking or something?”

Antu looked at Joost, “No… Im still talking to Sofie but that doesn’t mean im taken,” he said, making Joost roll his eyes.

“Do you know where she moved from?” Joost asked

Antu shrugged, “I heard some of the other neighbors say she’s not from Europe though. Probably somewhere in the Americas.”

A couple of minutes rolled by and Joost decided to start making his way to the place to pick up the food they ordered. He walked out of the apartment and checked his phone to see if the order was complete. While he was checking, he heard the next door open and was met by the most gorgeous looking woman he has ever seen. that must’ve been the new neighbor Antu was talking about.

She was gorgeous. everything about her screamed “goddess”. Her hair, her makeup, her jewelry, her nails everything. Joost didn’t wanna stare, but it was hard not to. The way her hair hugged the frame of her face. The way her flawless makeup sat. The way her gold jewelry reflected on her skin. The way her acrylic nails made her hands look pretty. He was able to smell her sweet vanilla scent from where he was at. something about her, made him intrigued to know her, even though this was the first time he was seeing her.

The woman was trying to look for something in her purse and seemed like she was struggling. She ended up giving up and started walking towards the elevator past him, but what she didn’t notice was that she dropped a euro. Joost saw this and thought that God was giving him a huge opportunity to talk to her. He picked up the euro and prepared himself.

“Excuse me ma’am” she ignored him “Ma’am, excuse me” she ignored him again. He got closer to her and thats when she turned around to face him. She felt his presence. Joost was even more nervous than he was. He was up close to her and felt his body go weak. “You dropped this, ma’am” he said to her.

She gave him a confused look at first and looked at his hand that had the euro note. “Is this… mine?” she said in a confused tone. From that short moment, Joost figured out why Antu couldn’t talk to her. She didn't speak Dutch. Joost didn’t know how Antu didn’t know since he said himself that she wasn’t from Europe.

“Oh, sorry! Yes this is yours. You dropped it.” Joost said in English.

He handed her the euro and gave her a nervous chuckle. She smiled back and gently took it from him. “Thank you so much,” she said to him. Her voice was heaven to Joost’s ears.

“No, problem,” he said. She started walking away, but Joost didn’t want her to. He didn’t want to stop talking to her. He wanted more from her. “Um, ma’am” he grabbed her attention again, “did you just move here?”

“I did. 2 months ago.” she replied, “im still trying to figure out where places are and stuff. Im trying to find a good clothing store near by.”

More opportunities were coming to the Dutch artist and he didn’t want them to go to waste. “Oh, I know a bunch of stores around here. I was actually about to head out to pick up some food from a place that’s around a lot of good clothing stores. If you want we can walk together around that place,” he exclaimed.

The woman gave him a smile and a smooth giggle, “You’re sweet, but im going to pass. I want to learn on my own.”

Joost was slightly disappointed but he couldn’t complain. “W-Well if you ever need any help, im always at my friends place working, stop by anytime,” he suggested.

She nodded and continued walking, but Joost called her out again. “Uh, ma’am?” she turned around to look at him, “Can I get your name? My name is Joost” he held out his hand for her to shake.

She looked down at his hand and back at him. “Everyone here is so nice,” she commented, “My name is (Y/N),” she said while taking out her hand to shake his. Joost was analyzing every detail about her. The way she talked, the way she dressed, her smooth hand, everything. As she walked away, she turned around one last time to tell him, “I like your outfit by the way.”

He watched the way her hips swayed as she walked and was enamored. Joost smiled almost like a dork. He felt extremely giddy inside like he could jump up high like they would in those corny musicals about high school. His moment was cut short though, when Antu opened the door. “Dude, where’s the food?” he said.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll go get it right now,” Joost said while taking out his wallet.

Antu looked to his side and saw his new neighbor walking towards the elevator. He immediately connected the dots. “Bro, don’t tell me you managed to talk to her,” he questioned, but by the way Joost was smiling, he already got his answer. “Please tell me your secret, i’m being dead ass,” Antu said.

From the moment that left Antu’s mouth, Joost wanted to gate keep. He didn’t want to tell him that (Y/N) doesn’t speak Dutch she he bullshitted, “You just got to have personality to pull someone like her.”

Anti rolled his eye, “Alright calm down, buddy. I will say you are lucky though. i’ve seen men basically line up outside to see her go out because she’s always going out. Didn’t think she’d talk to a boy white as you.”

“Okay, fuck you.” Joost replied. He was shocked by what Antu said though. Having men line up for a woman who is new to the country is crazy.

“Dude, she’s basically the street sensation. You are extremely lucky to even talk to her. I’ve seen her ignore so many people. Don’t know how you did it,” Antu commented before closing the door to his apartment.

Whatever spell (Y/N) put on Joost, it was working hard. he wanted to know more about her. Where she was from, who she was, but he needed to wait. He would wait until his death to know about her. He couldn’t wait to see more of her. This was the first woman to ever make him desperate for more and it wasn’t driven by lust.

˖��. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

this was a little something... where my Latina Joost Klein bitches at

[marlynnofmany]

Rainy Day Eggs

The last delivery our ship made was to a dry planet with too much wind. I’d say it was nice to be somewhere with moisture in the air again, but this was a lot of rain. And while I can appreciate the scent of petrichor and the sound of raindrops on the roof as much as the next Earthling, our current setup was a smidge inconvenient.

Paint asked, “Are you sure we don’t want to use the cargo bay instead?” She peeked past my elbow through the personnel door. “I feel like a wet floor there is less of a slipping hazard.”

“Maybe, but the awning doesn’t fit,” I told her, pointing up at the portable thing that came with this spaceport’s landing pad. It was made for single-person entrances, a hovering pink rectangle tethered to the ground with some kind of localized tractor beam. It stuck to the ship nicely, and hadn’t let so much as a drop sneak past to drip down my shirt, but it wouldn’t have fit over the cargo bay entrance.

“I thought we were going to use one of the bigger landing pads,” Paint said, surprise on her lizardy face as she looked out at the spaceport. “I know our ship is on the small side, but this spot looks tiny!”

“It is,” I said. “That douchnozzle over there sniped our spot.” I pointed at the sporty red single-person cruiser that was currently hogging a courier space. I’d heard Wio swear from the cockpit when she had to adjust our approach because the jerk zipped in front of us. I’d seen the nice big awning crumple down to fit his jerkmobile. After we’d landed in a spot almost too small for us, I’d seen him stroll away with fancy clothes and a force field umbrella, and he hadn’t come back yet.

He was a human, too. Not that I was bitter about any of that.

Paint huffed. “How rude! Well at least we have the comfort of knowing that the kind of person to do that is likely to make their own life harder every day.”

“You’re right on that count,” I agreed. “I can just imagine how much his food gets spit in when he eats at restaurants.”

This concept was a new one as far as Paint was concerned, and we spent the next few minutes before our client arrived talking about unsanitary food sabotage. (She wasn’t a fan. Can’t say I blame her.)

The birdlike cargo of the day was making quiet cooing noises from its cage as the client approached: a slender Frillian who’d come prepared with a bubble-shielded hover cart. I greeted him and handled the electronic payment while Paint gave the cargo one last look over. The coos turned to anxious warbles.

I wanted to call them chickens, and I’m still not convinced that I’m far off, but while their speckled feathers reminded me of the Aracaunas I’d had as a kid, these guys had scaly jaws instead of beaks. Feathery little velociraptors, all puffed up into anxious feather-orbs and looking ready to bite.

I was grateful for both the cage and the awning.

“Here you go,” I said, passing over the cage with extreme care. It barely fit through the door. Luckily the dino-chickens were light, even when they flapped and hissed. The client got them onto the cart with practiced ease. I tried not to show how relieved I was. That cage going sideways to smash open on the rainy ground would have been disastrous.

“Oh wait!” Paint said from behind me. “What about the eggs?”

“Right, I forgot about those,” I said, turning to grab the bowl she held out, which I’d set in the hallway next to the cage. Three speckled eggs rolled merrily as I held it out to the client. “Do you want these? They laid them on the way here, though they don’t seem interested in caring for them.”

He was busy strapping the cage down. “No thanks! They’re not fertilized. Just toss ‘em in your bio-recycler or whatever. Have a great day!” A fresh wave of rain pounded down between us.

“All right, thank you!” I waved goodbye and stepped back inside the ship, closing the hatch. With the rain shut out, the silence felt loud.

“I’ll mop up the water,” Paint volunteered. She pointed at where a spray of raindrops had managed to blow in on the wind. “Watch your step.”

“Thanks.” I held the bowl of rolling eggs in one hand, and the payment tablet in the other. I stepped carefully.

“And make sure you sanitize that bowl!”

“Oh, I will,” I said. “But before I just throw these away, I think it’s time for a rousing game of ‘who thinks these are food?’”

Paint regarded me with a mix of skepticism and disgust. “Really?”

I grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Eggskin scan them first.”

“You do that!”

Still grinning, I put away the tablet and did that. Eggskin was in the medical bay, which was next to the kitchen, which was convenient, because Eggskin was in charge of both. They were the most knowledgeable cook/medic I’d ever met.

They didn’t make any fun expressions when I handed over the bowl, not so much as lifting a scaly browridge. They just set to scanning and analyzing like the professional lizardy alien they were.

(I still haven’t told them that the color of their scales reminds me of boogers, and I don’t ever plan to.)

The machine dinged. Eggskin tapped a few buttons, cross-referencing something on the intelligent species database.

“You can’t eat these,” they declared.

“What? Why not?” I was honestly shocked. Humanity’s omnivorous nature had made me used to being the one who could eat everybody’s food.

“There is a significant level of a toxin that would cause vomiting and worse,” Eggskin informed me. “Looks like your people call it tremetol.”

That made a memory ding. “Wait, like the kind from white snakeroot? The kind cows eat, and gives people milk sickness?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eggskin said drily. “In my personal opinion, all milk is likely to cause sickness, but you’re welcome to your mammal tendencies. Just don’t eat these.”

“Aw, man,” I said. “Is it poisonous to everybody?”

“Let me check.” Eggskin brought up another species. “Looks like Mesmers aren’t affected.”

A voice from the doorway asked, “By what?” and I realized the quiet clicking noises had been Zhee’s feet. His big bug eyes peered in with some very nosy curiosity for someone without a nose.

I said, “By a toxin in the eggs that our animal cargo laid.”

Zhee tilted his head. “Good to know that something I don’t plan to touch will not harm me.”

Eggskin said, “The conversation was about eating them.”

“Ew.” He tilted his head at a more extreme angle and raised his pincher arms as if in defense. “Why?”

I sighed. “Apparently they’re poisonous to some of us.”

“Oh no,” Zhee deadpanned. “What a loss.”

Eggskin asked, “Want me to dispose of them?”

“I guess so,” I said. “Looks like all they’re good for is egging houses. Or spaceships.” I paused to think. “I wonder if they’d do the same kind of damage to the exterior that they do to car paint. It’d get washed away by the rain today anyway.”

“Spaceships like a certain red piece of excrement?” Zhee angled his long body sideways to let someone pass. “The captain would likely deem that unwise.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Captain Sunlight beat me to it.

“Unwise is one word for it,” she said as she stepped into view and paused instead of passing. Her scaly yellow face wore a scowl. “But that’s the same egghole who nearly sideswiped Kamm’s ship last week; I just checked. Now, we’re about to take off, but if the door happens to open and close before we do, I will be conveniently looking the other way.” She made eye contact, then strolled off toward the cockpit.

Zhee and Eggskin looked at me. I looked at them. Then I grabbed the bowl of eggs and legged it toward the hatch.

As the crewmember with the best throwing arm, and the same species as the egghole in question, it was only fitting that I deliver the karma.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[paiges-1vur]

welcome to the party pt. 2

—————-

paige buckers x oc!

cw: language, alcohol, lots of sexual tension (smut coming soonnnn!!)

a/n: Please let me know if you guys like this, or dont like it. I want to know what you guys think! idk how long i want to make this series but i think there will be atleast 4-5 parts. Also the blacking out after 5 shots actually is something that happened to me once… Drink safely please!! anyways thats all i love you guys let me know if you like this 💕

——————————

Friday 9:32 pm

It’s not long before the door opens up revealing a smiling girl. This must be Azzi, Rileys friend.

“Hi ry!” the girl says in a high pitched voice, “I haven’t seen you in so long we need to catch up.”

I see Riley smile and give her a quick hug before introducing me. I flash a quick nervous smile and tell her it was nice to finally meet her.

As we walk inside we meet 3 other girls. Then it hits me. Fuck. How could i be so stupid? I forgot Azzi was on the women’s basketball team. I walk in and try to suppress my anxiety as i face her 3 teammates.

Right as soon as i look to Riley for some stability, i notice her and Azzi have gone off somewhere else, probably to catch up.

The three girls are all occupied on their own, but one of them comes up to me as soon as she sees im uncomfortable.

“Hi your Ana, Rileys friend right! My names Nika and its really nice to meet you.” How could i be scared of this girl who sounded so sweet? I decided to pull myself together and try to have fun tonight.

“Yeah, im her roommate, and its really nice to meet you too!” I reply with a smile as she sips on her drink.

“And may i just say damn girl! you look so hot tonight!” Nika hypes me up and i do a little 360 giggling. As im spinning i see one of the other girls in the corner of my eye. The only girl i knew here. Paige Bueckers. “You know what lets do shots!” Nika is obviously feeling the same energy i am and i love it.

She calls the other girls over and quickly introduces me to kk who i love just as much as Nika. Paige stays quiet and Nika doesn’t say anything about her. She pours 4 shots and i say “Fuck it. Pour me 2” I hope I dont learn to regret this because being 5”1 and 120 pounds doesnt mix well with taking shots.

We all knock them back and i reach for my second one taking it down as quick as the first before making a quick face.

I look up to my right and see Paige looking down at me. Her eyes scan up and down my body as she bites her lip. I blush and look away, and in the corner of my eye i can see her smirking.

Azzi and Riley come back into the kitchen and let us know its time to head out to the bars. We all pack into Azzi’s car which has just enough room to fit us all. As soon as we pull out Azzi says “Shit. Guys is it okay if we pick up my friend real quick she just needs a ride to the bar thats all.” We all nod in understanding because we don’t mind.

As soon as her friend walks out of her building Azzi says “Okay theres not enough room so Ana since your the smallest your going to have to sit on Paiges lap. Is that okay?”

My mouth goes dry. i somehow manage a “Yeah thats fine.” As i move over to Paiges side of the car and sit on her lap. I immediately feel her staring at me. I turn my head to look at her, and her pupils are dilated and her eyes an icy blue. I feel her staring at my top again and this time i decide to be bold.

“You like what you see?” I whispered looking at her through my eyelashes and twirling my hair in my finger, biting my lip ever so slightly.

I can see her demeanor instantly change. She grins and comes down to my ear “I would like to see what you look like under it more.” I gulp and turn my head to the window trying to hide how wet that just made me.

I cant help from getting uncomfortable on Paiges lap in my mini skirt and have to keep moving my position on her lap. All of a sudden i feel two big hands on my hips. I look up at her as she licks her lips.

“Don’t start something you cant finish.” This immediately stops me from moving until the rest of the car ride, but Paiges hands linger on my hips for the rest of the ride.

————————

We all walk into the bar quickly flashing the bouncer our ids. Nika told me that tonight was going to be really fun especially because Paige knows the owner of the bar so we can do basically whatever we want.

We all sit down at a table and Im already feeling tipsy (but thats also coming from the girl who blacked out after 5 shots once..) “Who wants to get more shots!” I half scream at the girls smiling ear to ear.

They all laugh as Paige gets up and goes to the bar to order us two rounds. We are celebrating tonight. Once she got back we immediately downed the next two rounds and i decided i wanted to dance. I grabbed Nika by the hand laughing and dragged her to the dance floor.

She was surprisingly a good dancer and we danced with each other to the music that was blasting from the speakers. I started to grind on Nika as she hyped me up. I had my back faced to her as i moved up and down her body before turning around and putting my hands on her chest laughing because people had started to cheer us on.

I look over and see Paige staring at me moving on Nika, her hold so tight on her drink it could shatter at any moment. She stares me down in jealousy, and shit was it hot.

As the night went on I talked to all the girls and they were all super nice and i wanted to get to know them.

We started talking about basketball and when i asked who’s the best everyone turned to Paige. She bragged about how good she was for about 10 minutes.

She flexed and looked at me, “These don’t just come in overnight.” Everyone at the table laughed. My jaw dropped and the Paige looked over at me and winked. I mean i knew she was jacked. She had toned arms, smooth abs, and a killer back. NOT that i had ever looked that up on youtube.

I decide to distract myself from the growing need to touch Paige.

“GUYS!” I say ten volumes louder than i should have, “Guys lets lets play truth or dare right now i want to play now.” Everybody laughs and agrees as we sip our drinks.

The game is going well until its Paiges turn to ask me.

“Ana truth or dare.” She says flashing me her signature smirk. I try not to melt under her gaze. I know shes looking at my tits, but i don’t care. I want her to.

“Dare.” I say drunkenly, ready for whatever shes about to throw my way.

She laughs, “Lets do body shots.”

“W-what” I mumble, my brain suddenly slowing everything down.

“You heard me.” She gets up from the table and walks over to the bar. I look around at the other girls at the table and they all are smiling and trying to hide their laughs. Im just about to ask what the fuck i got myself into but then i hear something coming from the speakers.

“No fucking way.” I say. Azzi is trying to hide her laughing under a napkin. Pony by Ginuine starts blasting in the bar as i see Paige whisper something into the bartenders ear with a grin on her face. The girls at the table are absolutely losing it. Suddenly the bartender speaks into a microphone.

“Everyone we have a little something special for you all tonight. We have my good friend Paige and her new friend Ana are going to do body shots so lets give them all a warm welcome!”

People are whistling and cheering, eating up this little act.

“Come on up Ana!” The bartender looks over to my table and waves me over to the bar. I get up from my seat slowly walking to the bar, as Paige offers me her hand to get on top of it. I look at her with a “what the fuck.” look and she only laughs in response.

I lie down on the bar feeling very underdressed. As the music plays I decide to let go and let myself be happy. I can’t live life always worrying about the what ifs right?

I let myself feel free and the music blasting in my ears makes me anticipate whats going to happen. The bartender pours the shot and puts it down next to my head. She then pours the line of salt across my chest, which I’m sure was per Paiges request.

“Here you go hun.” The bartender hands me the lime to put in my mouth as she flashes me a wink. “Everybody lets hear it one more time for Paige!” The crowd erupts people clapping, screaming, and whistling. I see Nika holding her phone up recording this all, but to be honest, i don’t fucking care. Im too drunk to worry about the little things.

As im ready for Paige to initiate it i see her move. She climbs up on the bar and straddles my stomach, playing into this little act. Everyone is screaming clearly eating it up. i look up at her trying not to moan at just the sight of her on top of me. Fuck i need some sort of friction.

She leans down and grabs both of my wrists, and i let her take full control. She pins them above my head and smiles before scanning over my upper body one more time and whistling to the crowd.

I close my eyes before hearing Paige by my ear whisper “Open your eyes baby. I want you to see my face when i do this to you” I flutter my big brown eyes open staring at her in awe. “Good girl.” she says before returning to the act.

She leans down putting her free hand on my upper stomach as she licks the line of salt from my exposed chest. My back arches in response to her tongue and shit it feels so good. She then grabs the shot and downs it before coming down to my face and gabbing the lime from my mouth.

Still straddling me she sits up and tilts her head back with the lime in her mouth. The bar is packed full of students all screaming and cheering. The girls over at our table are still recording and cheering for Paige and I.

Im so drunk at this point that im stumbling back to the booth, and im fully leaning on Paige in the corner of the booth, sort of behind me. The girls whistle and Nika tells me how sexy that was. I giggle and lean back into Paige more, sitting in between her legs. The girls start to talk about something else, probably basketball before i feel a big cold hand sneak up my skirt on the inside of my thigh.

——————————

[lau219]

Enemies with Benefits

Part 13

Previous part here

***!!!Warning: mentions of parental death/absence, military service, and hintings of PTSD!!!***

........................................................................................

The next morning, after rolling over and opening her eyes, Y/N was momentarily disoriented when she didn’t recognize the bed she was in or the room that surrounded her as her own. Rubbing her eyes, she shifted, and the mild pain from her ankle immediately reminded her of the events of the previous night, and she winced upon also feeling the bandaging tape on her hands and knees.

Sitting fully upright in the bed, she recalled the details of the night prior, and she furrowed her brow as she remembered each shaking moment. She was still feeling scared and on edge from the whole situation, but she no doubt would have been even more traumatized if Tommy hadn’t been there.

As she thought of him, she then remembered how Tommy had sat with her last night, and how good it had felt to be held and comforted by him. It was the first time in a long time that she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable with a man, and while she didn’t like letting her guard down, she couldn’t deny how good it had felt. Tommy had been so protective and sweet, and she had a hard time believing that he was the same man from their initial few encounters. In fact, that’s what she’d continually been thinking for the last several weeks. Every day, he continued to grow on her.

Turning her head and reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she picked it up and checked the time, and she saw that Tommy had sent her a text message about 15 minutes ago. Tapping on the text icon, she smiled as she read his message.

T.S. Good morning, beautiful. Hope you got some rest. Whenever you’re ready, let Polly know and she’ll take you home. Your car’s already there, but if you need anything, I want you to call me. You’ve got the next few days off, and I expect you to take them. If you even try to come to work, I’ll fire you. And before you question it, yes, I can do that, so don’t get cheeky.

Still smiling, Y/N set her phone back down and pushed back the blankets. After hobbling to the bathroom and changing back into her clothes, she made it to the bedroom door and opened it, but when she remembered the long hallway and the amount of stairs she’d have to make it down, she began to slightly panic.

“Polly?” she called out nervously.

“Are you up and about, darling?” came Polly’s voice from somewhere down the hall.

“Yes, but I think I need help.”

Appearing around the corner, Polly made her way down the hall and met Y/N at the door. With a big smile, she offered Y/N her arm, and they slowly made it down the hall and descended the stairs, Polly then leading her into the kitchen and helping her sit in one of the chairs at the huge island before busying herself making Y/N something to eat.

“I can’t thank you enough for all this, Polly,” Y/N said as she watched the woman crack a few eggs into a frying pan. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t think I would have managed too well on my own last night.”

Polly smiled at her over her shoulder.

“Well, Tommy never would have let that happen, so no point in even entertaining the idea. But I wouldn’t have allowed it, either, and it’s my pleasure.”

“Where is he?” Y/N asked then, not wanting to sound like she was wondering about him, but not being able to stop herself from asking.

“He had some work to do at the office, and then he’ll be heading to the club to inspect the work they’re doing there, but he said he’ll stop over at your place later to check on you.”

Y/N shook her head.

“He doesn’t have to do that,” she said.

Polly looked up then and met her eyes.

“He wants to,” she said.

Y/N remained silent as she watched Polly continue to prepare her breakfast. She once again went through the events of the previous night, and as Polly set a plate down in front of her, she looked at her and quietly spoke.

“I still can’t believe how well he handled the whole situation last night,” she said to her. “It was like it didn’t even faze him.”

“Well, de-escalation is something they incorporate into basic training,” Polly replied.

Y/N furrowed her brow.

“Basic training? What do you mean? Tommy was...he was in the military?”

“Yes,” Polly replied. “Army.”

Upon hearing that, Y/N’s eyebrows raised and she felt at a loss for words. She never in a million years would have guessed he’d been in the military, and the expression on her face must have been evident of that, because Polly then continued to explain.

“The kids all had it pretty rough growing up,” she said. “Their mother died when they were young, and their father was a drunk, worthless piece of shit who gambled all their money away and would walk in and out of their lives whenever he felt like it. He still tries to come around sometimes, but it’s only when he needs money. I stepped in to help raise them, but they were a bit of an unruly bunch, and Tommy especially had a mind of his own. He was incredibly resentful for how his father behaved, and although Arthur is the oldest, Tommy, for whatever reason, felt it was his responsibility to take care of everyone. But he was also so all over the place that we thought he needed some structure. So, he left college in the middle of his first year and joined the army, and he finally had some direction for the first time in his life.”

Her expression still one of surprise, Y/N shook her head slightly as Polly paused.

“So, what happened then?” she asked.

“He served his time. He was actually awarded for several things throughout that period and moved up quite a bit, but it wasn’t anything he ever talked about or acted like he was proud of. He doesn’t like to talk about any of it, actually, and there’s plenty that he’s never shared. But he came back with a kind of determination I’ve never seen before. He had three priorities: to have his own money — and plenty of it, to make sure everyone he cared about was taken care of, and to never again feel like he wasn’t in control of his life.”

Y/N was silent for several moments. This new information was so much to digest, but it at least shed some light on why Tommy was the way that he was. While Y/N still wasn’t a fan of some of his tactics, she could at least now understand why he operated the way he did. And while she had been through her own trials and tribulations, what the Shelby’s had been through made her life sound like a walk in the park.

“I can’t believe all this,” she then said to Polly as she met her eyes. “And I thought I had it rough growing up.”

“You no doubt did,” Polly replied. “Just because we all have different battles doesn’t mean they take any less strength to get through. And in fact, your strength and determination are what make you so special. I think so, and that’s definitely how Tommy sees you, too. In fact, you’re all he’s seen since you two met.”

At that, Y/N blushed.

“Do me a favor and tell him to stop looking,” she said.

But Polly gave her a knowing smirk.

“Oh, Y/N, I think we both know that that’s not really what you want,” she said with a wink.

•.•.•.•.•

After Polly dropped her off and helped her to her door, Y/N thanked her again repeatedly for her kindness.

“No need to thank me, honey; you’re family now,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Y/N didn’t quite know how she felt about that, or how to respond, and her face was no doubt a mixture of several different expressions as she looked at Polly.

“This doesn’t mean I’m letting Tommy off easy, you know,” she then said to her. “The bet still stands.”

Polly smiled back at her.

“I’d expect nothing less from you,” she said, and then she turned and walked back into the elevator, smiling once more before leaving Y/N at her door.

After fishing her keys out of her pocket and entering her apartment, Y/N closed the door behind her and set down the bag of her things on her entryway table. Exhaling a sigh, she was glad to be back in her own place, and as she made it into the kitchen without too much difficulty, she was glad that her ankle wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t put any weight on it. But she cursed as she remembered that she had intended to visit the grocery store today, before everything had unfolded the way it did, and she groaned as she recalled that there was next to nothing in her fridge or cabinets.

But upon opening the fridge to assess what she did have, she was met with the surprise of it being fully stocked with food and drinks. After staring into the refrigerator in disbelief for a moment, she suddenly realized that the only person who could have done this was Tommy. He’d been the only other one in possession of her keys at any point over the last 24 hours, and she concluded he must have done it when he’d brought her car back, before returning her keys to Polly's house. As she then closed the fridge and opened the adjacent kitchen cabinet, she saw that he’d also filled that with more food, and when she turned around, her eyes landed on a bottle of Ibuprofen and a pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter across from her.

In spite of herself, she smiled, and before overthinking it, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, sending Tommy a text message.

Y/N: I can’t put my finger on it, but something tells me that someone was in my apartment recently. You know anything about that?

Within seconds, he responded.

T.S. Maybe. Depends on if you’re mad or not.

Y/N smiled.

Y/N: I should be, but you got my favorite cookies, so I’ll let it slide this time.

T. S. Well, based on the state of your fridge and cabinets before I got there, you were going to soon be wasting away to nothing, so I figured you’d appreciate food and painkillers more than flowers.

Y/N: And the cigarettes?

T.S. Just in case you feel the need to indulge while you recover. Although I’m cutting back, far be it from me to deprive anyone else.

Y/N: My kitchen better be the only place you occupied, Shelby. If I somehow find out you looked in my underwear drawer, you’re done for.

T.S. Believe me, love, I’ll see your underwear soon enough, but it’ll be when they’re on you, and then subsequently on my floor, and not in some dresser drawer.

At that, Y/N’s heart pounded and her cheeks flushed, and the thrilled smile that spread across her face couldn't be contained. But she kept her response to him untelling.

Y/N: You sound awfully confident about that. How can you be so sure?

T.S. Tell me I’m wrong. You’re not exactly arguing against the idea right now.

Y/N: I’m not exactly agreeing to it, either, so you’ve got your work cut out for you.

Y/N watched as the bubbles danced on her screen as Tommy typed a response. She smiled widely again as she read his message.

T.S. I think you know by now that I don’t shy away from work, love. Now stop shamelessly flirting with me and get some rest. I’ll see you later, and you better answer the door when I get there.

•.•.•.•.•

In the early evening, Y/N had nodded off on the couch, and she was suddenly brought out of it by the sound of knocking on her door. Clumsily sitting up, she blinked a few times and smoothed her hands over her hair before reaching for the remote and muting the TV. As she stood up on wobbly legs and steadied herself, the knocking sounded again.

“I’m coming,” she called, and once she made it to the door, she opened it and gave Tommy a look of annoyance as she met his eyes and tilted her head.

“Patience is a virtue, Shelby,” she said to him as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Come on, love, you know I have no virtues,” he replied with a smirk.

“This is true,” she agreed with a nod and a smile.

Briefly looking down at her ankle, Tommy then spoke.

“How are you getting on? How’s the pain?”

“Fine,” she replied. “It’s minimal, fortunately.”

“What about your hands and knees?” he asked.

She dramatically raised her palms to show him her bandages.

“Just fine, doctor, thank you,” she said with playful sarcasm, her tone sassy.

At that, Tommy gave her a look that made her internally shiver.

“If you wanna play doctor, we can play doctor,” he said as he held her eyes.

Y/N smirked at him.

“That would mean I’d have to let you inside first, and that isn’t going to happen, so...”

Tommy took a step closer, his foot halfway in the door.

“Are you sure?” he asked, speaking lowly. “I promise that I can take very good care of you.”

“You already have,” Y/N replied, keeping her composure. “That bottle of Ibuprofen has been cracked open and those cookies are half gone, so I’d say your job is done.”

Tommy smiled at her, both insanely frustrated that she was still challenging him, and also insanely amused. He expected nothing less from her.

“Could I come in and bum a smoke, then?” he asked. “I was told you might have a pack laying around here somewhere.”

Y/N smiled again, and she opened the door a bit more.

“I thought you were cutting back,” she then said.

“I am,” Tommy nodded with a smile of his own. “But all this work you’re putting me through makes it tough not to reach for one...or ten.”

Smiling even wider, Y/N replied.

“I think you can handle it,” she said to him. “Like you said so yourself, we both know you don’t shy away from hard work. Something tells me it’ll pay off for you if you just keep at it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tommy replied with a heated gaze. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Nah,” Y/N said with a shake of her head. “I’m feeling adventurous, so let’s just see what happens. But in the meantime, I do want to thank you for all the hard work you’ve already done. It would appear that you aren’t as awful as I thought you were.”

Tommy gave her a nod as he raised his eyebrow.

“You better remember that, darling,” he said.

Slowly moving closer, Y/N reached out and lightly grasped one of the lapels of his coat as she leaned forward and then placed a kiss on his cheek. She whispered in his ear before pulling away.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Then she released him and stepped back, and by the time Tommy had snapped out of the daze she’d put him in, her door was already closed.

@nyxxie-pooh @allie131313 @xsweetcatastrophe @febris-amatoria @hannibellector

@betty21rose @fairytale07 @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @beastofburdenxo

@runnning-outof-time @aphroditeslover11 @galactict3a @natalie--rushman @wild-rose-35

@judig92 @hudson-bay-girl @ladyvenera @yay-im-fucking-trash @k1ng-l3on

@ceirinen @peskybinders @fuseburner @shaddixlife @neonpurplestars89-blog

@devotedlyshadowytheorist @garrison-girl-08

[bilswildflower]

Stolen Moments

- part 2

Billie Eilish x Female Reader

CW: fluff

Summary: Your first date with Billie after the two of you had been wanting each other for a whole year.

May 31st 2024

You woke up on your couch feeling warm and cozy as the morning sunlight blazed through your still open curtains that you had forgotten to close last night. Sitting up slightly, you leaned over to the coffee table, tapping your phone screen to check the time. 10:33am. Not too bad, you thought. You smiled to yourself when you saw you had a text from Billie sent to you an hour ago. You swiped it open to a message that said

-Bil

‘mornin baby girl, still on 4 tonight?’

Blushing, you text back a quick “of course 😘” as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and got up to go shower. Deciding to run some errands for the day to pass the time before your date with Billie.

You had both been texting back and forth throughout the day as you ran your regular errands of grocery shopping, garden shopping and stopping at a friends house for a catch up. It made your heart skip considering how terrible Billie was at texting back normally, and the fact that she has a very busy day today with interviews. So you really appreciated that she was trying.

You shoved your front door open, carrying bags of who knows what after your busy day of shopping and trying to evade paparazzi, which ultimately, you failed at. Can’t wait to see those photos, you muttered to yourself under your breath. You dumped your bags on top of your kitchen counter, heat rising to your cheeks as you remembered how Billie had you pressed up against that same counter not even 24 hours ago. With Billie in mind, you pulled out your phone to ask her a quick question.

-You

‘Where are we going tonight by the way?’

You pressed send and went to put your shopping away, then decided to take yourself upstairs for a nap.

Your phone pinged the moment you laid your head down on your pillow, flipping onto your side your finger slid open your phone to a text back reading,

-Bil

‘hmm think imma leave that as a surprise mama’

You blushed at the nickname and rolled your eyes at her attempt to be mysterious.

-You

‘Well can you at least tell me what the vibe is? I need to know what kinda outfit to wear silly’

It took a couple minutes before you got a response. Billie had sent a screenshot of a picture from your instagram, posted about 4 months ago from a movie premiere you went to. In the picture you were wearing a beautiful tight fitted, short sleeved, silk black dress that stopped at your knees. It hugged your body perfectly and you always felt so confident in it. You remember when you posted the picture, Billie commented a bunch of heart eye emojis and complimented you about a hundred times over it the next time she saw you.

As you looked at the screenshot Billie text back again.

-Bil

‘still got this?’

-You

‘Yeah it’s pretty’

-Bil

‘it is, wear it?’

-You

‘As you wish babe’

It was around 4:30pm now, so you set your alarm for 6 to make sure you had enough time to get ready before Billie picked you up at 8. You placed your phone down on the bedside table next to you and wrapped yourself up in the throw on top of your bed, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall asleep, dreaming about Billie as you did.

7:45pm

You stood in front of your bedroom mirror and smoothed out your outfit, twisting and twirling your body to make sure everything looked good. You had on the black sleek dress that Billie requested you to wear, a pair of black pumps, not too high so you don’t tower over Billie, your hair and makeup done just the way you like it and you had a thin silver chain draped around your neck with a little heart pendant dangling from it.

It’s 7:50 now, you thought as you checked your watch, Billie will be here shortly. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were nervous. You knew since the two of you were celebrities that Billie would take you somewhere quiet and secluded, so at least you didn’t have to worry about paparazzi. The last thing you both need is new speculation about your love life.

You made your way downstairs with your purse and flopped on the couch, scrolling through tik tok as you waited to be picked up. You had hoped tik tok would be a distraction from how nervous you were, but your heart was still pounding in your chest like no tomorrow.

Suddenly, your phone pinged.

-Bil

‘here, come out’

You were slightly confused as to why she would text you she’s here instead of knocking on your door or even just letting herself in, but nonetheless you grabbed your purse and headed for the door. As you stepped out, you could have cried at the sight in front of you.

Billie was stood by the passenger side of her dodge, with the door already open for you. She had a big grin on her face and her hands wrapped around the stems of the most beautiful red roses you had ever seen. She was wearing a black and white striped blazer with a button down and some black baggy suit pants, and since it was a date, she had decided to leave the hat at home.

You couldn’t help but smile at her, locking your door and walking over to her you took the roses from her hands as she held them out to you and you wrapped an arm around her neck, giving her a quick peck on the lips.

“Hi” Billie finally spoke up.

You laughed, “Hi”. For some reason, you felt so shy. Especially now, those flowers had rendered you speechless. Nobody had ever bought you flowers before, you almost didn’t know what to say.

Billie pulled away, biting her lip as she looked you up and down, before quietly commenting on how beautiful you looked. Seems you made Billie just as nervous as she made you. You liked that.

“Shall we go?” She said, clearing her throat.

You nodded and Billie held the passenger door for you as you took your seat inside her car. She closed it shut gently and made her way over as the driver. The whole car ride you felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest with how hard it had been pounding. Especially when Billie would reach over every so often to place a soft hand on your leg and gently stroke over the fabric of your dress with her thumb. Even through the silk, you could feel her touch burning into you. It was making you go insane and you felt your face flush every time.

Billie finally pulled into a parking lot of the fanciest restaurant you had ever seen in your life, before stopping her car and removing her seat belt. Just as you removed yours, she leaned over to you and took your chin in her fingers to gently press a soft kiss to your lips. Then she got out and made her way over to your side to open your door for you, holding your hand as you got out. She made your heart flutter so much it felt like it could fly away.

The two of you made your way inside and were led to a cute little table away in the corner of the restaurant after Billie let the host know she had made a reservation. She pulled your chair out for you before taking a seat herself and the two of you looked over the menu before ordering.

Throughout the night, Billie slowly eased your nerves so effortlessly. Every now and then she would reach over the table and take your hand in hers, stroking with her thumb as she listened so intently to whatever you were talking about, her bright sea blue eyes locked into yours to show she was paying attention and it made you weak in the knees.

As you were finishing up, the waiter came by with the bill, which Billie paid immediately despite your suggestion to split it, then she stood from her seat and held her hand out for you, leading you both out of the restaurant.

“This was nice” you spoke up as you arrived back to the car.

Billie smiled “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, I wanted to make it special for you”. She opened your passenger side door for you, allowing you inside then got in herself.

The car ride back was quiet, the only sound filling the vehicle being the faint hums of music playing through the speakers on low volume. Despite there being silence between the two of you, it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable like it usually was when you were with a partner. You felt content, like you didn’t need to say anything, and Billie felt the same.

You leaned over to the drivers side slightly to lay your head softly against Billies shoulder, drawing a smile onto her face. The arm you had your head resting on came up to the other side of your face as Billie stroked your hair gently, then her own head leaned in slightly to press a kiss to the top of your head before turning back to focus on the road again.

“Billie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we not go back yet? I want this to last a little longer if that’s okay”

“Yeah? Wanna just drive around for a little while?”

You smiled into her arm “yes please”.

Billie pressed another quick kiss to the top of your head and changed directions so you were headed away from your house. You didn’t want to drive around all night, but you needed to stay in this moment for just a little bit longer before she took you home.

You nestled into her arm as best as you could without preventing Billie from driving, meanwhile Billie had a big smile on her face the whole time, and you stayed there, cozy, content and safe.

Safe. For the first time ever with another person, you felt safe.

———————————————————————————-

I tried so hard with this it took me days to write it omg. Hope you enjoy it! I’m not great at writing about dates so please bare with the fact I skipped over the pretty fast I just wanted to focus on the relationship ☺️

[latibvles]

one hell of a reunion.

a continuation of this, but from Buck’s point of view, which was fun to write. this is for the prompt "reunited". trigger warning for discussion of character death & depictions of injuries — Viv references a beating but doesn’t go into explicit detail. Our favorite pilot isn’t doing too well! Don’t look too hard at any historical inaccuracies it’s my party and we can have some inaccuracies for the plot as a treat.

—

i.

There is nothing quite like it: the dread of waiting.

He’d felt it during the week without Bucky, when Brady showed up asking for him about three days after Buck himself had wound up here. It was miserable, waiting at that fence like some kid waiting for the mailman. Miserable still, when Inez and Harriet came the day after Bucky, asking about the rest of their crew, and Buck quickly realized he was not done waiting.

They talk about it: what and who went down — although it’s more like Inez talks about it and Harriet’s head hangs low in a way Buck’s never seen before, and it kills him a little bit. She’s got a black and blue bruise curling around her eye that he doesn’t ask about for the sake of not losing his own mind on one of these guards.

Two unlucky bastards from the 95th were their stand-ins for Willie and Jo, the former in the hospital, the latter probably on her way to the flak house. He could see it, Viv fighting to get in the air anyway because everyone else was going.

“It was like our whole tail got blown off,” Inez is holding Harrie’s hand tightly, like she might slip away otherwise. “Fighter jets tore up our whole waist. Then there was a rocket. Engine fire on the way out. We lost Fern, Carrie, Lorraine.”

There are two sides to waiting.

Knowing that three of them wouldn’t be coming home doesn’t bring any comfort. Knowing three of them were still out there, probably, perpetuates the restlessness Buck has been feeling for days.

June, Lena, Viv — Benny starts pacing around so often that Buck thinks he just might start digging a trench that takes up the whole block. Bucky and himself are little more than ghosts staring at the fence when the siren goes off, a few steps behind Inez and Harrie, the former clinging to the fence like a lifeline or a promise.

As much as they all knew nothing was guaranteed, there were still parts of them that wanted to believe some things could be. Even Buck himself wasn’t immune to it: being shot down never once occurred to him, Bucky being shot down two days later never occurred to him. The prospect of Viv dead somewhere never once crossed his mind. To his credit, neither of them would ever let him think like that if they could help it.

And so he hates this: this waiting, the hoping, and the dreading, and all that comes with it.

There is no privacy here. They feign it anyway. They pretend not to hear Harriet’s quiet sniffling on the first night, up in the third row of bunks. That nearly kills Buck. By the fourth night, Bucky laments in a quiet mumble how he didn’t set things up right with an air of finality to it that doesn’t sit right in Buck’s bones. He doesn’t push for details. He doesn’t have to. Your move, Viv, is all Buck thinks, into the silence of the room. Now or never. 

That last part, even in his head, sounds like her.

It is four more days of trudging along. Eight days — longer than a week, and on that eighth day, Buck doesn’t bring himself to wait by the fence anymore, and neither does Bucky, so Crank goes instead with the girls. There’s something implicitly unsafe about leaving them alone in a place like this, and Crank’s been good to them. Kept his head on straight, miraculously enough, and for that, Buck is grateful. Better than Benny, who paces, or he and Bucky, who are being consumed by their waiting, or Brady, who looks guilty for things he can’t control.

Willie’s back in England after all, but of course John Brady will be guilty over the one, minimal comfort he has.

On the eighth day, Harriet practically knocks the door down — a bat out of hell — and Buck can’t believe he’d forgotten how much of a livewire the girl could be. She’s flush-faced and panting, but still points decisively.

“Need… hah… one’o you big boys… Cap ain’t walkin’ right,” is what she says between wheezes. “M’not… not tall enough.” And Buck startles, half-because he thinks Harriet’s about to collapse but she bats his hands away with a smile and a “Not me, you goof! Over there!” Gesturing wildly to the outside, and Buck follows her as Brady moves to get Harriet water and guide her into a chair. Bucky’s right behind him as they step out into the grayscale yard.

They walk maybe a couple feet before stopping and Bucky says exactly what Buck is thinking.

“Holy shit— Viv?” Disbelieving, gaping, even from a few feet away. Buck recognizes the faces instantly: the bright red of Lena Connolly’s hair and the golden blonde of June Cielinski.

“That you, Cleven?!” It’s Lena who speaks, not Viv. Viv currently has an arm slung over Crank’s shoulders, leaning on him. Buck knows it’s taking Bucky everything in him not to break out into a run like a madman, but they’re both moving with a sense of urgency.

It doesn’t take a genius to know they’ve been through hell.

There’s a split running through June’s lip and the three of them look gaunt and tired. Lena still smiles from ear-to-ear and he reaches out to give both June and Lena’s arms a meaningful squeeze. They were careful now, with the girls — not wanting to draw attention to them with loud welcomes and tight embraces. But he lets Viv use his shoulders as Lena recalls that their pilot’s been limping since the crash and took a hard fall on the train platform. There’s something relieving about the weight on his shoulders and how real it feels.

“Should get that checked out. We could ask around about a doctor.” He keeps his voice low. Viv shakes her head and lifts her gaze and Buck finally sees how tired she looks, dark circles coupled with a bruise on her cheek that has his jaw clenching.

“Don’t need it. I’m fine.” Her voice is hoarse, scratchy. Buck’s brows furrow.

“You kidding? You can barely stand.”

“But I am.”

“Viv—”

“Cleven I swear to God—” Viv snaps. Cleven, not Buck, not even Gale. He doesn’t think he’s heard Cleven leave her mouth since Nebraska. He isn’t sure if those fingers digging into his shoulder are a means of grasping onto him tighter or a means of warning him like the way a dog bares its teeth. And then she reels back and breaks away from looking at him — her voice softer like she’s remembering who he is. “Just… I just need to sit. And get the boot off.”

This is not the woman that he knows. Maybe he’s seen her in passing, but Buck’s not used to these bared teeth being flung around so carelessly. She’s already made up her mind. Bucky gets the door on the way in, and June and Lena take off with that whirlwind swiftness that’s so intrinsic to that whole damn crew. Viv hasn’t said a word still.

They make it to their room, to girls in a tight embrace, and they wait until Viv’s eased into a chair to shower her with the same relieved affection. Her eyes just flutter shut for a moment with a long sigh as Harriet hugs her head. Everything is in motion, except for Viv herself, and that sight unsettles Buck to his bones. June is walking past to throw herself into Benny’s embrace, so tight that Buck thinks for the briefest moment they might crush each other into dust as Benny buries his face in her hair.

He doesn’t miss the stiffness to Bucky’s shoulders as he grabs another chair and goes about undoing Viv’s boot, he doesn’t miss how neither of them have hardly said a word. Viv reflexively reaches for Buck when he pulls the boot off, squeezing the life out of his wrist and face contorting into a wince — her whole damn ankle swelled up like a baseball. Bucky looks up, Viv looks down, Bucky looks at Buck.

“I’ll go poking around for ice. Maybe an extra pillow.” He rubs on her ankle for a moment before Harriet goes to snatch one of the pillows from an unclaimed bottom bunk to put on the chair as Bucky rises and sees himself out of the room.

Buck would hardly call it a reunion.

ii.

The Vivian that Buck knows and the Vivian that arrived at the Stalag feel almost completely different, and Buck knows that he isn’t the only one to notice the shift. She’s quiet, more often than not. She still waves off any attempt to help her, which she’s always done — but the patience is gone. Maybe not gone, maybe just in short supply; he’ll be the last to complain about anyone being in a bad mood, and it’s not like she’s started breaking things.

She stumbles, once, and there’s at least eight hands there to keep her upright, and it’s the first time Buck’s seen her look ashamed. Avoiding eye contact with anyone who helps her — no exceptions — and he’s pretty sure that part of it is killing Bucky a little bit. It’s killing him too, if he’s being completely honest, in the same way that Harriet’s sniffling on her first night did. The same way that waiting did.

Sometimes cracks of the woman Buck knows seeps through: when Lena says something especially sarcastic, or June and Benny start bickering quietly over their sad excuse of a dinner. He always finds himself looking over at her, hoping for a smile. The most he gets these days is the steely gaze softening a little, a small twinge of the corner of her mouth.

He keeps a careful eye on the other four girls and doesn’t try to hover too much. Bucky keeps things within reach of her hands or in places where she doesn’t have to move too far, but just enough to keep her a little bit independent.

“She’s just gotta get her head right,” The reminder sounds more like her voice than his own, even as he says it aloud. Bucky gives him a skeptical look. “It’s this place. Once she’s walking right it’ll be different.”

“You really believe that?”

When did Buck become the optimistic one?

“I do.” Another week has gone by, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that this place has a way of sucking the life out of you. You either end up restless or resigned. He can really only imagine what it feels like to show up half-alive already.

He gives Bucky’s shoulder a squeeze before heading into the billet, and stepping into the room.

Viv is sitting at her usual spot at the table, foot propped up. They couldn’t do much in the way of ice, so rags doused in water and left out to freeze overnight were the next best solution. Beside her is a half-eaten breakfast of bread and potatoes. He eyes the book curiously, before letting a small smile creep onto his face.

“Don’t let Bucky catch that, he’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

“Oh he gave me the earful last night when I asked him for it,” Viv peers over the battered copy of Runyon a la Carte. “‘Takes a crash landing and an ankle sprain for you to give it a shot’ he said. Kept going on and on…” She trails off, head bowing like a dog with its tail between his legs. Buck can see it now: Bucky, probably trying to make her laugh, and Viv not being able to give him much in the way of a reaction. Do you really believe that?

It’s really the most she’s spoken in days, and Buck feels almost greedy to keep her talking. Like it’s some proof of progress.

“And that ankle?”

“Hurts.”

“Could be worse.” Viv snorts, something sardonic and venom filled as she shuts the book with a shake of her head.

“Oh yeah,” sarcasm seeps into her words, “I could’ve blown up somewhere over Germany. Give you all one less problem to deal with? That’s way worse.”

“Is that what you think?” Gale asks, somewhere between hardly believing her words and understanding them completely. Viv gestures to the space around them.

“That’s what I know,” she counters, like she’s taking root in her stance with no intention to change it. “You’ve got that… that radio you’ve been working on. And when it’s not working right that’s how Bucky keeps himself useful. Benny’s fucking knitting. Most I’ve done since fucking Bremen is taken a beating in a transit camp ‘cause they thought I was lying about June being American. So don’t—” her voice cracks a little bit as it trembles on each word. She looks away for a moment. “Don’t you dare tell me that I’m not a problem sitting here doing fuck-all. I know what I am.”

There’s so much that Buck wants to say, but he’s combing through the words. Because he could tell her about how even in the moment that they’d seen her it was like they could all breathe again. No longer the kid waiting for the mailman — he didn’t care that she wasn’t going straight to work. They just wanted her to be here.

And then Buck thinks of Viv promising to get Bucky back to barracks when he calls it an early night, and Viv wrapping her knuckles after knocking the teeth in of a stranger who’d gotten too close to a replacement, and Viv worming her way up to the control tower to count forts — and doing it on the tarmac, too, hair all mussed from the helmet, scratches on her face. The letters she’d written to crews’ families just because she knew them and would call them friends. A runway in Nebraska, star-filled night: none of this works if you’re not onboard with it, too, Cleven. Don’t make me haul you up here with me.

Christ, she’d been making herself useful since the beginning. Didn’t complain, didn’t have a fit about it, didn’t even expect a thank you. Viv was the last person who should’ve been worried about being a problem.

“Think you’ve earned it — it’s not any trouble, you know that, too,” Buck reaches over to grab the back of her chair, pulling it closer to his own before reaching under the table leg for the half-finished radio he’d been working with for the past few days. “What you are, is alive, and you could ask anyone who comes through that door if they think you’d be better off dead and I think you’d already know the answer to that,” he continues, then sets the radio on the table. “But if you want to be useful, hold this in place for me.” He gestures to the wooden platform that the radio’s being built upon.

Viv looks at him for a long moment, like she’s waiting for something. She looks… small, in a way that he’s only seen in minor increments — when it dawned on them that Curt really wasn’t coming back, or when Dye pointed out how many crews they’d lost by the time he hit twenty-five missions. But she doesn’t quickly mask it like she might’ve before. Her lips, in spite of that small, bordering on kicked-puppy expression, curl into a smile. Something proper and alive, as opposed to the ghost of a lip twitch that she’d been giving sparingly.

“There she is,” Buck can’t help it, and Viv lets out some type of breathless laugh, knowing what he means. She rolls her eyes in a way that’s both playfully annoyed and so, so familiar.

“Shut up, Buck.” She holds the base steady while Buck fiddles with screws and wires.

It’s one hell of a reunion.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 4/10

+18

Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!

Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.

Enjoy!

He should have never given you a day off, Ruben thought. You had been gone for hours, without telling anyone where you went. Ruben woke up that morning to an empty apartment. Okay, Max was there but he was an early riser and always went out for a morning run. You, on the other hand, wasn't an early riser. You'd wake up around the same time Ruben did. He would listen to your footsteps puttering around the kitchen while he lay in bed. By the time you knocked on his door to give him his shot, Ruben had been awake for hours, thinking about you and how he would do anything to feel your hands against his face again.

"Do you think she's gone missing?" Ruben asked Max.

"I thought she said that she had an audition this afternoon?"

"A what?"

"An audition. She's an actress, you know? A really good one too."

"Y/N, an actress?" Ruben found it very laughable. Actors and actresses possessed the skill of lying to the world. That night, looking into your eyes as you held his face, Ruben saw nothing but the truth in them. The truth that you were indeed the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen.

"Yeah, apparently she's studied at one of the best acting schools in London."

"Oh, yeah? Then how come I haven't seen her in any movies?"

It was a slow day in the park. However, Max refused to bring out the tennis balls. Despite the surgery, it was obvious that Ruben's conditions had yet improved. He feared that it was getting worse. And with that thought his creeping depression would return to him with the thoughts of never playing football again. That, and the fact that going blind forever meant never seeing your eyes again.

"I dunno, she said something about the movie industry being misogynistic and unfair to women." Max explained.

Ruben snorted. "Sounds like excuses to me."

He was an asshole at heart. Ruben knew that. But you didn't, or at least pretended not to notice. It's the reason why he hired you. You had an attitude like no other, an attitude that was reflected in your snapping tongue. Whatever Ruben put you through, no matter the insult, you always looked at him the same. Not with pity like his mother. You looked at Ruben as if you could see right through him. See through the pain in his heart and the many many failed attempts to better himself. You gave him the illusion that he might be good enough for you. However, the whole world knew that he wasn't. Not with his broken mind.

The sun had gone down by the time you got back to the apartment. Ruben and Max returned from the park hours ago. You had missed dinner and Ruben didn't like that. Did you have dinner somewhere else? With someone else? If that was the case, the two of you really needed to talk.

"Ruben?"

It was right on cue that you knocked on his door. You had made it a habit to check on him before you retreated to your own room. Ruben would never admit it, but this was the favorite part of his day.

"Come in." He said, sitting up in bed. He perked up even more seeing you appear in the doorway, your face painted with makeup, wearing a tight black dress that hugged your shape in ways that struck his sinful imagination. No bandages covered his eyes during these hours and luckily you wore a coat over your naked shoulders, preventing Ruben from completely losing his mind at the sight of you.

"Hey, I just wanted to check on you." You said.

"Well, like all the other nights you've checked on me, I'm still alive."

His cheesy comment made your smile fade. Good job Ruben, he thought. Even in the dark he could see your distaste for him.

"I mean, do you need anything before I go to bed?" 

"No."

"Oh, okay."

You lingered in the door frame, perhaps feeling forced to make small talk. "Max told me that you guys went to the park today, did you have a nice time?"

"Yes."

"Good."

An awkward silence followed. If you would only step a little closer to the bed so that he could see you clearly. Ruben's vision got a bit blurry where you stood, since his eyes still needed time to adjust, even to the dark.

"Did Max let you exercise again?" You asked.

Ruben snorted. "No." 

"I'm sorry about that."

Perhaps you felt guilty ever since his little fumble in the park, where Ruben's heart topped the average rate. Max refused anymore advanced brain exercises after that. The reason for Ruben's newfound restlessness. Nevertheless, he didn't blame it on you.

"It's not your fault." Ruben said, looking at his hands. "We'll start again in time."

You nodded. "You will get better in time, Ruben, your doctor said so himself."

You had started taking him to his weekly appointments. Although you were much better company than Ruben's mother, he didn't like the look of pity that you gave him as the doctors would pin all those needles in him to run their many many tests. You would never see him for the man he really was, a football player.

"Where were you?" Ruben asked, pleased to change the subject.

"Erm...out." 

"Out with who?"

Your arms folded. "Why do you assume I was out with someone?"

"You were out alone?"

"Yes, yes I was. Believe it or not."

"Why were you dressed like that?"

You looked down on your dress. The light from the hallway reflected off of the little specks of glitter, putting dots on Ruben's walls, making it look like little stars roamed above their heads.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?" You frowned.

"Nothing." He shrugged. "It just looks like you were going on a date or something."

"And if I were?"

"What?"

Ruben's reaction made you smile. "Yeah, if I did in fact go on a date, what's it to?"

"I don't....." 

He choked on his words and you laughed.

"Relax Ruben. I'm only dressed like this because the audition I went to required it."

Of course, he thought. Max told him about your acting pursuit, although he still doubted that you were a good one. However, Ruben was curious. "How did it go?"

"Shit." You sighed and to his surprise stepped into the room. "The directors wanted me to run lines in a scouse accent. Like, who even knows how to do that?"

Ruben laughed. He thought about the many times he had been scolded by the Liverpool fans. He never managed to understand a word of what they were saying to him. He doubted anyone knew what they were saying, not even themselves.

"All I'm saying is thank God for this job, otherwise I'd probably be on the street begging for leftovers."

"I'm sure you'll get your breakthrough." He said and really meant it. If it wasn't in your heart to work for him it could turn ugly very quickly.

"I dunno?" You sighed and to Ruben's surprise, felt comfortable enough to take a seat on his bed.

His legs stirred under the covers to distract him from the blood rushing to parts of his body that he really didn't want to come alive right now. Luckily, the room was dark and you sat on the foot of his bed. Nevertheless, your silhouette was enough to send him off. You were beautiful beyond the light, and if he was ever given the pleasure to touch you one day, he'd forsure make it memorable.

"Ruben?"

Fuck, he thought. You must have caught him staring.

"Yes?" He replied, cupping his groin under the covers.

"I want you to be honest with me."

Fuck.

"Before I go to bed...."

Yeah, he's done.

"Of course." He said, clearing his throat.

"Do you need my help getting to the toilet?"

"Pardon?"

You avoided his eyes out of cheer embarrassment. "You know...." You said. "To help you pee?"

If only God did drive-by's. "No, Y/N." He sighed. "I'm good to go on my own if I have to."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. It's my body, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying. Last time..."

"Last time was a first."

"Right." There was a hint of a smile on your face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

Ruben's heart sank, seeing you leave his bedside. "Y/N?" He exclaimed, stopping you at the door. 

You turned around, eyebrows raised. 

"Erm...you look beautiful."

Your face lit up. "Thank you."

"Yeah, um....goodnight, I guess." Ruben was quite desperate for you to leave.

"Goodnight Ruben."

He fell onto his back once the door shut. And an odd surprise awaited him as he slid a hand down his sweatpants. Ruben had been told that parts of his body could remain permanently affected by his injuries. Like the next man he wondered if that meant his abilities to perform in other places than just the football pitch, and unfortunately the answer was, yes. Like the next man Ruben had tried watching porn in all kinds of outrageous themes. However, nothing had done it for him. But now here he lay, with a full fledged erection and one person on his mind. 

As he began stroking himself, Ruben thought of stripping you of that dress of yours, touching you in ways that would pleasure you to a point of rapture. Oh how he would love to rip you apart, to hear you moan his name.

"Fuck."

As much as he wanted to make the moment last, Ruben was too horny to maintain a steady pace. He stroked his dick like his life depended on it. As if his mother could burst into his room at any minute.

"Shit...." 

Ruben ground, succumbing to his own temptations. He felt pathetic afterwards. Like an animal unable to control his urges. Nevertheless, he made a promise that the next time he came, it would be inside of you.

Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!

[bleachbleachbleach]

You've always been my go-to for all things Bleach lore and world-building! Do you think Shinigami all sleep in futons or beds? Or maybe it varies from character to character? We've seen the 4th division with beds in their wards, but I think every other character has slept in futons.

Haha, thank you! We do love a furniture deep-dive here, and people's headcanon speculations about shinigami life even more.

I started a list of any time we'd ever seen a character in some kind of bed (futon or frame), but it mostly just ended up being a long list of "_______ at the 4th," lol, so we'll see all those aside (almost all those aside). But canonically, there is a mixture! We see:

Hinamori in Aizen's futon

[Bleach 100]

Ukitake in his quarters

[Bleach e40]

Isane in her quarters

[Bleach 179]

Hisana at the Kuchiki house

[Bleach 179]

I think Rukia had a similar setup during the Bount Arc, as well.

Also, I'd like to note that for the record as I was retrieving *bed pictures* I got emotionally destroyed by my re-encounter with this panel. It is just SO deeply sad:

[Bleach 180]

The incredible, isolating vastness of the room, and the way the shadow cuts across the space. ToT <33333 It also reminds me of a really excellent meta piece done by afinepiece, where she analyzed the panels from Byakuya's story about Hisana and pointed out sections where the panel visuals might suggest Byakuya's memory/headspace more than physical reality. Her journal is deactivated but I know the reblog is on B3 somewhere! I'm inclined to go with that reading here, even though I also feel like the room probably just *looked like this* because every room in Soul Society is like this. (Maybe it's also for airflow, given her illness seemed partially respiratory and possibly contagious? ngl I'm basing this off that one anime elaboration scene and my co-blogger's post about Circus Hisana and Elephant TB).

In my mind Byakuya's convalescent setup was the same as Hisana's (is this the sad Seireitei equivalent of couples' outfits) but I was wrong:

[Bleach 180]

He's in a bed! But from the look of this building he's probably at the 4th and not at home. Put simply, this building is too brutish and workmanlike to be part of the Kuchiki complex:

[Bleach 180]

Hanatarou's quarters (implied)

[Bleach e259]

The tatami floor, layout, and big closet on the right-hand side seem to imply that Hanatarou uses a futon.

Abarai family quarters (implied)

[Bleach "No Breathes from Hell"]

This is probably not the only room in this house and they could put *anything* in those cabinets, but their sheer number and the style of the room suggests that this converts to a futon-filled bedroom, regardless of what might exist in other parts of the house.

Bonus 1: Renji in jail

[Bleach 118]

Is this at the 6th? Is this at the 4th? I always assumed the 6th, though obviously the 4th was involved. Idk, Byakuya left him on the ground. Maybe if you don't pick up your invalids the 4th just stashes them in their jail.

Bonus 2: Hitsugaya in Junrinan (non-shinigami, non-Seireitei)

[Bleach -16 (in between 286 and 287)]

These examples are pretty skewed in favor of futons, but if we think about this collection of characters, there is an overrepresentation of people who trend more traditional in terms of aesthetic, so they might not meaningfully represent the whole. Also, half the list is the same family.

We've seen a number of different offices and meeting rooms for each division, as well as some private residences, which have been a mix of Western and traditional styles in terms of the building itself and the furniture within it. Most of the offices seem to have Western furniture (or at least, the 10th, 6th, and 3rd), whereas Byakuya and Aizen, at least, seem to prefer the traditional at home.

Though, I don't know what this big-ass room is, but given its size and feeling of formal reception, this may well be the 5th's office?

[Bleach 100]

NB 1: I tried to look up what the office looks like under Shinji, but what is happening here:

[Bleach "No Breathes from Hell"]

NB 2: The 2nd also has traditional receiving rooms (used by both Yoruichi and Soi Fon, wherever the division between Shihouin and the 2nd is. But I assume Soi Fon's office is not the Shihouin Family Receiving room).

--

My feeling is that the differences are more regional/Division-based than personal preference-based, and *when*/by whom this design language was established depends on how much time and money the people in charge want to devote to furniture.

But that doesn't necessarily mean each Division is uniform, since we can see Isane and Hanatarou, both seated officers of the 4th, have different-style rooms! Maybe this is an effect of the 4th being an early bed adopter for their general professional purposes. Unohana is 100% a futon lady. I feel like Isane just accepted whatever was originally in the room, and that if there were no bed at all in the room she would sleep on the floor before asking to remodel. Does that mean a previous 4th VC wanted to modernize the VC quarters?

Was that previous 4th VC the original bedframe proselytizer, and got permission from Unohana to do up their quarters like a model home that gave examples of both types of room? Do Isane and Unohana live in an IKEA showroom?

What are the benefits of futons?

the room can be multi-use, a general common room by day and sleeping dorm by night

don't have to make a bunch of bedframes

Given what a big deal everyone makes out of transporting goods from the Living World, I feel like they probably make all their furniture and don't import particleboard from Nitori, so this would be expensive! Plus, given the amount of building reconstruction that needs to happen, I feel like there's probably a fairly small quota of wood released to civilians and/or divisions for non-essential use.

What are the benefits of bedframes?

BUNKBEDS

easier cleaning/long-term savings?

Yeah, you'd have to make the bedframes and have a whole separate common room, but having beds implies you've probably done away with the tatami in the room, since you're not really supposed to put heavy furniture on the mats. And I don't think in a barrack with heavy use you'd be able to rely on shinigami simply "being careful." Same logic as college dorms and their "IKEA, but completely indestructible" furniture.

So if you decide in the long-term that you don't want to do tatami maintenance/replacement and want wood furniture on wood floors, maybe the bed route is for you! ("You" here meaning "your division"!) At which point it'd be a matter of:

caring enough to do a cost/benefit analysis about this

whether or not you want to preserve the traditional aesthetic

whether you have the initial capital to invest in making the change

Some additional thoughts:

We know that at least a portion of the 2nd has heated floors, as financed by Oomaeda. I'm not a heated floors aficionado--though I stayed at an AirBnb once with a heated driveway--NUTS) but I feel like that would...not work with tatami? That over time the heat would dry them out too much and make them brittle? So maybe the 2nd has beds.

Despite the fact that the 10th office changes out their couch out a few times during the canon timeline, I feel like there's a 0% chance Hitsugaya has considered a bedding/architecture overhaul during his tenure at the 10th. He's spent the last 15 years developing a real filing system and an actual budget procedure. He didn't come in with extra money to put towards beds and the 46 doesn't generally approve that kind of line item. That's more of a "gift fund" expense.

Shinji is trying to get a Pod Hotel proposal approved, on the grounds that the idea would benefit more than just the 5th. They could implement it in the Tsumesho (Gotei WeWork)! And provide them in strategic outposts across Rukongai!

During what decade was the 11th briefly "HAMMOCK DIVISION" because it seemed like the cheapest, most low-maintenance option?