#the ability to place everything in perfect arrangement and have it never move

[neverendingford]

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[homunculus-argument]

I was born and raised American, but with everything that's happened over the past few years I've been considering moving to another country. but I don't know if this is just "the grass is greener". Not sure if this really fits with your blog, but as someone from Europe what's your attitude towards living in the US?

I've visited there a handful of times and most of my thoughts are "damn bitch, y'all really live like this?" People in Finland like to complain about the climate, the taxes, and how stingy the welfare systems are (if you currently rely on them) or how costly they are (if you're currently not relying on them), but honestly most of the time that's because people are used to having it so good, or don't really have a perspective of how bad everyone would be doing without the infrastructure that everything runs on.

Sure, nowhere is perfect, and there's always room for improvement, but honestly the people I've met in the US only really seem to think that their system is good because they've never been anywhere else and don't know any better.

Mostly it's stuff that you'd never think about if you hadn't been to both places, like being able to trust that tap water is drinkable or that you can safely walk/bike to wherever you need to go. The US really doesn't have the kind of ability to just hang out in public places, just walking to the town and sitting on benches. Having public parks and libraries isn't really the same if you can't just walk there, and you genuinely need a car to go anywhere.

I moan and lament a lot about how the winters here are hard to endure - at the darkest time of the year the sun rises at 9 and sets before 5 pm - but I wouldn't move from here just because of that, mainly because of how reliably everything is structured here. Sure, it's all run with funds from relatively high taxes, but that is a self-feeding loop on its own. The tax-paying workforce isn't a disposable resource that's wrung dry once and tossed out when it's broken, but even when you're just another cog in the machine, you're one that's maintained, not replaced if broken.

I had a lot of breakdowns when I was younger, largely due to depression and other mental issues I had due to the undiagnosed ADHD. When I started breaking down at work in my old factory job, they couldn't just fire me on the spot because of the workers' union fought tooth and nail to make sure that you can't throw people out for getting sick, and mental illness is treated no different from other health issues. I was allowed to take two years off work in order to study into a career I thought would fit me better. That didn't turn out well either, but I was still allowed to bounce back and forth between odd jobs, sick leave, and studying - all on government pensions during the spots when I wasn't working a wage - until I found the right diagnosis, the right medications, and the right job.

It's not a hyperbole to say that I owe my life to the ample and studry social welfare systems that Finland has in place. Sure, you're just another brick in the wall, a cog in the machine, but if you keep breaking down, it takes a long time until they completely give up on you if you can somehow make them believe that you're trying, because it's cheaper for the tax system to figure out how to make you fit into the machine than just toss you out. A human being is an expensive investment and if getting you to the right job, education, diagnosis, medication or even arranged housing is what it takes to get your ass back into the workforce, they'll at least try.

I'm perfectly happy to pay the taxes here to fund the system that helped me onto my feet when I was in no condition to function, and to support the people who never do recover, find their place, or be able to support themselves on their own. And I can live with the peace of mind that even if I fall apart again, that safety net is still there. It's brutal, pragmatic, and regards your health and welfare as a means to an end - to get you working and paying taxes again - but they still do prioritise your welfare. Cogs are cheaper to maintain than replace.

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐑𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

↳ 📂 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 "𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡"

{{Part 2}}

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.4k (that wasn’t supposed to happen icl)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Kissing, PIV sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, virginal fingering, cum eating, oral (m and f receiving), prone bone position (sorry bruh, very self indulgent here 💀), Olfactophilia, slight jealous Miguel (if you squint), Spanish pet names. MINORS DNI🔞🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel unveils more about his enhanced abilities with you and the air is quickly charged with desire. Yet lurking beneath your connection, there is a sense of uncertainty about the implications of Miguel’s extraordinary powers.

𝐀/𝐍: The chapter title sounded more amusing in my head. I didn’t think this one would turn out this long, I went a little overboard. I had to break down the paragraphs bc I got carried away ;-; anyways hope you enjoy this filth <3

You turned the key and pushed open the door to your apartment with a mix of anticipation and thrill erupting inside your gut. Tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and was very eventful. Despite Miguel’s huge confession that came crashing down on you like a bolder, the night still ended well.

Though, the thought of him being Spider-Man still lingered at the back of your mind and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of your ex-husband being a human mutate the entire time. Yet you still welcomed him inside the familiar confines of your home with a warm gracious smile, the door closing with a soft click behind. In the warm glow of your apartment, you made your way to the walk-in kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You asked, glancing back at Miguel as you placed your purse on the countertop.

“A glass of water would be perfect.” He replied, taking in the surroundings of your home. You were amused by the awe in his expression as you filled two glasses with cold water from your tap.

“Here,” you handed him one of the glasses.

“Thanks” he took slow sips while his gaze explored the connected living room. Your talent for interior design hadn’t gone unnoticed, even during your early days of your marriage when you both moved in together. You would always have a plan on how things would be arranged, and with a bit of trial and error, it usually turned out beautifully. Miguel, on the other hand, left the planning all to you while he would make sure you were still fed after your hard work.

It was a distinctive dynamic you had. Miguel would always make the best dishes from back home and you adored and savoured every bite. You even tried to make empanadas for him once as a surprise anniversary gift back when your relationship was still filled with warmth and closure before you grew distant from each other with him always coming home late at night, probably from his heroic duties that you were clueless about at the time. After you went your separate ways, you would try to replicate his dishes but it would only bring you pain of what you had lost. Speaking of food…

“That baked ziti was amazing.” You commented as you took another sip. It’s been a while since you went out to eat in a high end restaurant. There was never a special occasion or an excuse for you to go.

“Was the food the only thing you enjoyed tonight?” Miguel replied in a teasing tone. You watched his face over the rim of your own glass as he said that.

“The night hasn’t ended just yet.”

“Oh? Care to elaborate on that?” He responded, clearly intrigued. You didn’t give him a verbal answer, instead you put your empty glass down on the counter and took his hand, leading him down the hall and to your bedroom. The anticipation settled in the air as you settled yourself on the bed and gestured for Miguel to follow.

“We’ve got all night. So you might as well tell me everything about Spider-Man, all the details.” You purred, your gaze locked into his with excitement.

“What do you want to know?” He lied beside you in amusement and willingness.

“First of all, what was the first thing you noticed when your genes were altered?”

“You want to get to those details hm? Well, the first thing I noticed was my vision was enhanced, a lot. Along with my strength and stamina. Oh, and the spinnerets in my forearm.”

You hummed in amusement as you soaked in every word he uttered. You couldn’t believe this was where things had ended up between the two of you but you also couldn’t help but marvel at how far you’ve come. “Well, look at you. Brawn and brains. What else is there?” You noticed he was hesitant for a moment before he spoke again.

“I'm sure you’ve seen my fangs at one point.” Your body stiffened as you recalled those awful memories of your heated arguments. What you saw from his mouth was real. A hint of relief washed over you knowing that you haven’t lost your mind and Miguel had confirmed it himself.

“I have…and I thought I was just hallucinating.” Your voice trailed off.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame you. I should’ve been honest from the start.”

“It’s alright, we’re starting something new now.”— you paused— “So what else haven’t you shown me.” You watched as he lifted his hand and you noticed something unusual emerging from his fingers. You audibly gasped at the sight of his talons. He brought his hand closer to your face so you could get a closer look. It didn’t occur to you how intimately close you were until now, yet there was an undeniable thrill in his proximity. Maybe it was a default habit in your mind that was convincing you that you were still comfortable with Miguel being this close.

With agonising anticipation, he lightly trailed your jaw with the tip of his talons, leaving a tingling feeling in its wake. Your breath hitched, feeling how sharp and pointy they were on your soft skin. If he were to press any harder, he would surely pierce your jaw. Not that you were entirely against that; but you didn’t want to raise any suspicions at work the following Monday, especially in a facility like Alchemax. His face was mere inches from yours and you knew where he was heading with this. The air in the room thickened with each passing second.

“You want to see more?” He asked, his voice lowered to a sultry tone. You nodded, unable to form any words.

Miguel leaned in and closed the remaining gap between the two of you. Finally, you managed to seal your longing with an electrifying connection and a scorching kiss. His lips moved against yours passionately making your heart pound in your chest. Miguel must’ve retracted his talons because now he was cradling your face as your mouth moved in sync. However, you pulled away abruptly when you felt a sudden shift in the air.

“My God…” you mumbled, feeling the familiar bugle in his pants.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to get ahead of myself.” He said, though the strained desire in his voice was palpable. “I mean, you’re not on birth control, right?” He held his gaze at you. You could practically feel the desperation in his tone.

“No…” You leaned closer, “but I might’ve got myself the morning after pill from the drug store before this.” You were planning for this moment the day you asked him out and the way his expression dropped, you could tell he picked up on that too. You got them prior to this date and the rest of the night you spend trying to please yourself before your date while imagining yourself with Miguel in bed together. But you knew no matter how much you touched yourself, you’d never reach the sensation that Miguel could give you.

A sly smile played on your lips before you leaned in for another kiss. His arm snaked around your waist and pulled down the zipper at the back of your dress. Once it reached all the way he let the dress pool around you before tossing it to the side. He left trails of wet kisses around your jaw and down your neck, however you had other things in mind. You attempted to reach for his clothed cock as he kept kissing you and gave it a desperate squeeze, making him pull away immediately from your neck.

“That needy, huh?” He retreated off of you and removed his shirt before his pants along with his boxers— his cock springing out in its full glory. You didn’t expect him to stay at the edge of your bed and lean back slightly with his cock still standing on its end. You shifted yourself so you were now on your knees. Suddenly, you felt his hand combed your scalp before grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you close. “Don't just stare at it, cariño,” he tugged at you and brought your face closer to his crotch.

“Since when were you in charge?” You quipped, wrapping your hand around the length and swiped your thumb over the pre-cum that was already leaking from the tip.

“The second I realised how bad you want this by getting yourself the morning after pill. Now get to work.” You didn’t expect him to catch you off guard like that, let alone even give you an answer to your rhetorical question but now you could feel your mouth getting dry. Did he know how much of an impact he had on you with his words?

“You better not make a mess on my bed.” You joked but there was a hint of seriousness in your tone. Though you wanted Miguel to leave a mark in your bedroom the morning after, the last thing you wanted was a stained sheet to deal with.

“You realise that means you’re gonna have to swallow, right?” He cocked his brow. You knew he was right and you didn’t have anything against that. If it were anyone else you wouldn’t agree to do it at all, you wouldn’t even let them touch your hair like this; they could just fuck you and leave. But you wanted the night to last with Miguel so you’d do anything it’ll take.

The strong scent coming from his crotch mixed with the faint smell of his sweat was dizzying and ignited a fire deep in your gut. That might be the pheromones doing that. You planted small kisses on the surface as his cock twitched with anticipation and desperate to be squeezed. The stifled groan you heard from his throat made your cunt throb a little and coaxed you to keep at it.

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around the tip and took his length in his mouth. You tried to avoid scraping your teeth on the skin so you wouldn’t cause him any discomfort— given the fact that his girth was taking up a lot of space in your mouth, it was difficult. You still remember the first time you sucked him off on your wedding night and he specifically told you not to do that. His length rubbed against your upper palate while your tongue wrapped around its surface. It was taking up your whole mouth and you struggled to maintain a steady rhythm while giving it some friction. It wasn’t the most pleasurable experience having your mouth full to the point where he was almost touching your gullet, but watching his reaction made it all worth it. You kept your focus on his moans and the pleasurable sound of your name on his lips. His lascivious noises were for you and only you and encouraged you to keep your pace.

That’s it, that’s it. Let me hear you.

You noticed the muscles on his thighs clenching now. It was all familiar to you, the way his body would react when he was close to his peak. Before you knew it, you could taste the ropes of his warm jizz spilling from his cock. However, you forgot how much this man could come and you bit off more than you could chew, throwing you completely off guard. Your mouth was starting to fill up more as he released and his cum was beginning to leak down your chin— your eyes watered from the intensity and you had to pull away so you wouldn’t choke. His cock was now slick from a mix of your saliva and his remaining cum. You felt his thumb wiping your mouth before he lifted your head up to look at him.

“You okay?” His voice was still hazy and eyes still half-lidded.

“Yeah…just forgot how intense you can be.” You answered, still trying to stabilise yourself.

“Let me make you feel good then.” He gestured for you to lay down on the bed. You complied and you watched how his hands reached for your panties. His thick fingers hooked on the loop before pulling them off completely. The feeling of the open air hitting your drenched cunt, that was trapped in your panties for so long, made you shiver. His index finger rubbed against the folds first. You could hear the slick sound of yourself as he kept rubbing you. Without warning he inserted his finger in your gaping hole leaving you squirming under him. His fingers were big, so big, and though you have felt them before, your body was still not prepared for the sensation.

You gulped when his finger was fully inserted with the heel of his palm pressed against the sensitive bud. He pulled out and started pumping his digit while curling them inside you. Your breathing became more shallow as he continued finger-fucking you. Part of you wondered how it would feel if he used his talons inside you. But you didn’t want to risk anything. Things were getting so good. You tensed when you felt another one of his thick fingers being pushed inside you and you couldn’t control the whine that came out of your mouth and the way your body convulsed.

The knot inside your stomach snapped as your walls clenched hard before spilling everything. He pulled out his fingers and stuck them near your mouth, his eyes instructing you to open. You did and started sucking on his coated digit, the mix of his salty cum mixed with yours on your taste buds. You released his fingers and he plunged them back in your hole. Even with them being coated in your spit, it was still dizzying taking in his fingers, especially now that your cunt was swollen from your release— it felt a little sore this time around but the pain was easy to subside with his palm nudging on your clit.

“Come on cariño, I know you can come on my finger again.” You knew there was no point protesting. Once he had his mind fixed on doing something, he would do everything in his power to get it done. It was another thing you loved about this man. “Can those other men you had flings with make you come with just their fingers?” Ah, of course he remembered you saying that. You wondered what was going through his head when you told him. Was he jealous? Maybe he wanted to claim you again? “Tell me, cariño” You didn’t say anything to him directly but it didn’t take long for your body to spasm again and your cunt gushed with another orgasm. That was all he needed to satisfy his query. You were a panting mess by the time he pulled his fingers out of you again.

You still had enough strength to register and watch what he was doing next. He left wet kisses around your stomach and licked the exposed skin. He lowered himself around your crotch and sent trails of kisses around your inner thigh before getting to your swollen core, still dripping from your last release.

“Miguel…” you breathed, still trying to maintain your composure.

“You thought I was going to give you my cock after that?” His breath brushed against your eager cunt that was still clenching onto nothing. He was definitely doing that on purpose. “You scratched my back so I’ll scratch yours. That’s how it’s always been with us, remember? I saw how you were struggling so I thought I’d reward you for your work.” Sweet fuck, you loved this man. You chewed on your lower lip to suppress your pathetic moan. The look he was giving you between your legs only made your cunt pulsate more and your walls desperate for some friction.

All those other men you had flings with were never too focused on getting you to come. They only used the sex as a stress reliever and just wanted to reach their own climax so they could fill you up. But you never complained though, in truth, you just wanted to feel another man’s touch. Since there were no strings attached and you weren’t committing to any of them, you felt like they didn’t owe you anything like that. You thought to yourself that things will be easier for your heart to handle this way since you weren’t expected to get hurt. Your mind was so fogged with that idea, you forgot what it felt like having someone care for your needs too.

He started off with licking your folds in aching slow motion, getting you riled up. Your hands immediately reached for his hair and laced your fingers through the locks, letting out a shaking breath of approval when you felt him sucking on your sensitive bud. His mouth was giving you a better sensation on your clit than his palm, that only just barely brushed against it. He pulled away momentarily and you could see your mess glistening around his lips.

Then you saw it, his fangs emerging making your heart quicken in your chest before he dived in again, fully connecting his mouth onto your core. The sudden contact made your legs enclose around him in reflex. He lapped his tongue over the folds all while gently scraping his fangs over the sensitive areas. He was careful with his movements not to dig his canines too deep to cause any pain. It was a new feeling you’ve never felt before and you knew you’d never experience it with anyone else. Every juice leaked from your core was eagerly licked by him.

You attempted to grind your sex against his face to get some sort of friction from his tongue but his strong grip on your hips planted you on the mattress. That still didn’t stop you from squirming under him though. Your mind started to cloud with bliss and all you could focus on was his tongue movement and the feeling of his fangs grazing on your skin. He watched your reaction between your thighs as your mouth hung open. You couldn’t see his full face but through the looks of his eyes, you could tell he was giving you a smug expression as he ate up your reaction to his touches like a famished man.

You could feel your senses firing again as the heat was building up in your core. His tongue started lapping faster and flickering deeper into your cunt and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your back arched against the bed and with a desperate cry, you finally unraveled again, everything that squirted from your pussy was quickly licked off from his tongue. As he pulled away, there was a line of saliva that connected your folds with his lips that he wiped away with the back of his hand. He lapped over his fangs too that were also coated from your fresh release. He leaned into your face again and kissed you lightly. You tasted and smelled the bittersweet of yourself from his mouth as he went to suck on your lower lip.

Next thing you knew, you were gently pushing and flipped over on the bed, ass up. He had better access to your hair now and it’ll be easier to take him in this position. He held onto your back, guiding his cock through your rear. He braced himself before he made his entrance slowly. You could still taste him and yourself on the base of your tongue and you knew his cock was still coated in your saliva making it easier to squeeze between your folds. Your walls caressed every inch of him as he pushed further and further into you.

You could hear and feel the suction from yourself that gripped around his length as he pulled back only to shove himself back in again. As he did, you could feel your clit rubbing against the sheets beneath you with each force from his thrusts. The bed screeched in protest as he rolled his hips into you, forcing it to move up and down. His rhythm became more sporadic like all that pent up energy was poured into one night while your head was buried into the pillow, muffling the noise building up in your throat. You were truly helpless under him, his frame was completely enclosing over you so you were rooted on the bed being shoved into the mattress over and over again from his thrusts. Blood could be heard rushing in your ear and every pulse in your system was throbbing.

Miguel, what have you done to me? What the fuck have you done to me?!

Each thrust was more intense than the last, forcing you deeper into the sheets. You couldn’t control the noises that were coming out of your mouth now as he was desperately trying to chase the high he could only get from you and the way you were squeezing him in all the right places. You felt his fingers combing through your hair again before he tugged gently, but firmly enough to force you head up from the pillow to look at him. The red hue on his eyes were glowing against the low lighting in your bedroom as he continued to plunge himself into you.

“Talk to me…who fucks you good?” He spoke over your shoulder and over the sound of the bed creaking, his breath fanning over your ear. You caught a glimpse of his fangs as he grinned at you and you allowed yourself to be drowned by the richness of his voice. He must’ve recognised that you couldn’t form anything coherent from your mouth so he slowed down his pace to give you a chance to talk.

“You…” Was all you could muster before you slipped out another moan from your lips. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, let alone form a cognitive thought in your head.

“Say my name, querida.” He commanded, giving one strong thrust that caught you by surprise.

“You, Miguel. It’s you-!” You gasped, the sound of your own voice was sounding foreign to you. No one had ever managed that out of you. He released your hair and your head dropped back on the pillow, no longer having the strength to hold yourself up. Out of all the times you’ve been fucked on your bed, this was by far the loudest you’ve been. The walls weren’t thin but you knew you’d still be getting noise complaints by the neighbours not just from your moans but with the repeated sounds of the headboard knocking against the wall. But that wasn’t in your mind right now. Every thought was slowly melting away from your brain, even your consciousness of your surroundings as he kept fucking you. It was like every other room in the building and everyone else in the apartment didn’t exist anymore— just you and him. You couldn’t see him but the sweat building up on his skin was giving off a subtle distinguishable smell and was causing his body to stick to yours as he kept on going.

He’s close, he’s close, he’s close.

Through your teary vision, you noticed him gripping onto your headboard as leverage before going deeper inside you. There it was, you could feel his release reaching every crevice and surface area inside as his body trembled from his strong climax. The rush of his hot release made you cry out his name before he took his time to pull out. Even with him releasing his cum deep inside you, there was still some leaking out through your folds.

You felt Miguel’s torso and your back sticking together with your sweat as he took his time to lift himself off of you. Lifting your head up from the pillow, you turned to see him leaving the room, his footsteps echoed in your, now, quiet apartment. You took this time to shift and turn your body around, the sheets were slightly damp under you. Your legs were still shaking from his rough thrusts and climax. Your senses were slowly coming back to you and the pulse in your ear was slowing down. The sound of the faucet could be heard from your kitchen as Miguel filled up a glass before his footsteps could be heard again as he approached you with a glass of water.

“Thought you might need this…” He handed you the glass. With shaking hands, you took the cold glass.

“Thank you.” You downed the water in one go, feeling the coolness down your throat before placing the empty glass on the nightstand.

“Do you want to get cleaned up?” Miguel asked. Your legs were still sticky from his cum and your sweat but you weren’t worried about that.

“In a bit, let me just hold you for a second, please.” Miguel climbed into bed and lied beside you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His warmth enveloped you and you through us swirled in a mixture of emotions. The passion you've just shared with him is still palpable with the smell of sweat and fresh sex woven in the air. Your finger fiddled with Miguel’s collar bone before you cradled his jaw. Your heart was still going haywire even as the intimacy was starting to settle down between the two of you. Your gaze shifted to his own and your mind started to wander. You thought about the future and even started a family you’ve longed for with Miguel but didn’t dare to dream about until now.

“Miguel…do you ever think about having children?” You whispered, too afraid to break the peaceful silence.

“I do…is that what you want mi amor?” He murmured. Mi amor? You gulped.

“Yes but…with your Spider DNA, what if our children inherit them too. I want them to live a normal life but what if they face the same dangers you do? What if I won’t be able to handle it?” You confessed. Miguel caressed your cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear before he spoke.

“I understand your worries, but we can’t let fear hold us back. I promise to protect you and them and I’ll try to be the best father and possibly the best husband too.” He reassured you. Amidst the doubts and uncertainty, there was still an undeniable warmth. The idea of raising a family with him felt like a second chance at happiness. You’ve both faced so much and you’ve overcome them. Perhaps you could both navigate the challenges of parenthood too. One step at a time.

“Thank you, Miguel. I think we should get in the shower to clean up now, don’t you?”

He smiled.

“You’re right. But first, don’t forget to take the pill…”

Part 4 🔞🔞

[pholla-jm]

"I Do..."

IMAGINE: " I DO..." ~ GOJO X READER GENRE: HURT cw: arranged marriage. term 'wife' used. not proof read. use of (y/n). this is going to be a series! so I promise it'll get better. *************

The brushes fluff against your skin, making sure that everything is perfect. Moving the strand into the right place, and then spraying a holding spray to keep it in place. 

“There,” the woman speaks while bringing the veil down to cover your face, “you look perfect.” 

The woman takes a step back to get a better look at you. 

The make up perfectly sat on your face, your hair- not a single stray out of place, and the dress covered you completely. Almost looking like a doll. Truthfully, you thought the dress was too conservative. It was obvious that the elders picked it out. 

“Thank you, mother.” You say, voice steady and monotone as you keep your gaze forward. 

Your mother clicks her tongue, a happy smile on her face as she continues to look at you. Your face is completely opposite of hers. You didn’t dare make a single facial expression, in fear of creasing the makeup that was applied. 

“Don’t forget the training. You must be the perfect wife, don’t anger him in any way. Always obey him. And most importantly, have a son.” Your mother reminds you and you nod your head. 

Trained. That’s right. You were trained to be the perfect lady, a wife starting at a very young age. You weren’t raised to be your own person. No, you were trained for someone else. Like an object or a pet.  

“Yes, mother.” 

Your mother stood proud in front of you, “you may go.” She tells the stylist. They nod their head before leaving the two of you. 

Your mothers takes a deep inhale before walking back up to you, “I believe in you. You’re going to do great.” 

Your heart flutters a bit, not used to getting compliments. However, you push those feelings aside, knowing that if it all became too much then there would be dire consequences. 

You nod again, acknowledging what she says. 

A knock on the door gains both of your attention. You knew what it meant. 

“It’s time.” Your mother says. 

You nod once again, standing up. The dress makes ruffling sounds at every move you make. Your mother takes your arm and walks you down the hallways of the venue. It was eerily quiet, not a single sound could be heard. As if everyone was holding their breath for your arrival. 

Two large doors stood in front of you. Just behind those doors stood the man you were supposed to get married to, a crowd full of elders and family members who pushed this marriage together. 

This marriage has probably been planned since you were born. Once the elders knew of your abilities, they knew that you had to be controlled. 

Your father stood in front of the doors, waiting for you. His face shows no emotions as he holds out his arm for you. You take it without hesitation, the doors now opening. 

At the sound of the door opening, everyone stands up. Music playing as the both of you walk down the aisle. You kept your gaze forwards, refusing to look at any of the guests that stared at awe. 

Your gaze stayed on the man in front of you. It was the first time seeing him. You have never seen any pictures of him, but you have heard his name plenty of times. Oh, so many times. 

Gojo Satoru.

He was strikingly beautiful. Tall and slim, with white hair and blue eyes that pierce your own eyes. He didn’t look happy to be there, but neither were you. 

Well, you couldn’t really show if you were happy or not. Let alone actually feel those strong emotions. 

Once at the altar, your father lets go of your arm. You continue to walk up the altar, only stopping when you stand in front of the man. 

It was a strange feeling. Standing in front of a man that you didn’t know, and you were going to marry him. It felt even weirder knowing that this was your first time seeing him. 

You wondered what he was like? Is he cruel and mean? Is he going to force you against your will? Did he have a sense of humor? Laid back? You wondered what his favorite color or his favorite food is. 

You were just itching to know this man that stood in front of you. 

You wondered why though. Maybe because it is going to be the first real interaction with someone that is around your age. Even though this interaction is planned, doesn’t mean that every single thing after this will be. 

So caught up in your thoughts you didn’t realize that it was time to say the ‘I do’s’. 

“I do.” You say, like you have practiced this multiple times. No real emotion behind it. 

The man in front of you could only stare. Wondering what in the world was wrong with you. It was like he was getting married to someone that was dead. Sure, they were alive on the outside, but on the inside they weren’t really alive. 

With a deep breath he answers, “I do.” 

He didn’t really want to though. Of course he didn’t want to have this arranged marriage! Especially to someone who he has never meant. But he didn’t have a choice in this matter. Threatening to take the things he loved from him. All so that he could have a strong heir. 

He couldn’t wait for the elders to die off. 

Lifting the veil from your face, his breath catches in his throat. 

It was like he was staring right at a doll. Makeup done so perfectly, that there was no imperfection. However, as he stared into your eyes, he couldn’t see any life in them. Not a single flicker of life or light in the eyes. You were just a body without a soul. 

And he couldn’t be more disturbed and disgusted at the same time. 

Swallowing his emotions down, he leans down to place his lips onto yours. 

It was nothing special. No butterflies in the stomach, no sparks of electricity- just a simple peck to the lips to seal the wedding. 

The sound of applause erupted around the two of you as you pulled away. You gave him a blank stare as he gave you a tight lip smile. He almost felt…. awkward about kissing you. 

Truth be told, you felt a bit awkward too. Even as he took your hand to drag you down the altar and down the aisle. 

All eyes were on the both of you, applauding at the two of you being married. All of them had bright smiles on their faces, like they didn’t force this marriage together. It was normal to them though, most of them are married due to power statues or convenience. 

Why would this be any different? 

The sound of a door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You were standing in front of a black car, Gojo holding the door open for you. 

You blink a couple times, wondering how you were so deep in thought you didn’t even notice that the both of you have stepped outside of the venue. 

You look back at the venue, seeing your family. They were smiling down at you, like they were proud. But you knew that they weren’t proud of you. No, they were proud that their child was going to marry the most powerful sorcerer in all of history. 

You look back at Gojo Satoru, the man you just married. He was waiting patiently for you to get into the car. You give him a little nod before getting the car. A couple seconds later, Satoru gets to the other side of the car. 

The door thuds shut and a silence envelops the both of you. You look at him from the corner of your eye. Normally this is where he would show his true colors. 

But he sat in silence, his chin resting on his fist as he looked out the window. You noticed that his eyes were still out, and you were well aware of his six eyes. You wondered if that had any physical burden on his eyes. 

“Do your eyes hurt?” You ask him and he freezes up at the sound of your voice. 

It was actually the first time he has heard you speak, beside the ‘I do’. It sounded real, and not scripted. 

Satoru looks away from the window to look at you. You were staring at him with that same look since you first met. It began to unsettle him, and he finally took a good look at you. 

His six eyes couldn’t pick up any significant curse energy off of you. If you didn’t marry him for power, because you surely weren’t strong, then your family must have married you off for money. 

“How do you know?” He asks like he wasn’t popular in the jujutsu world. “I know that you carry the six eyes. That mustn’t be the easiest on your eyes. You haven’t worn any covering since the wedding.” You answer promptly. 

Satoru chuckles at your response and digs his hand into his pocket. He pulls out a white blindfold. “What else do you know about me?” He asks while pulling the blindfold over his eyes. “Nothing else. You are Gojo Satoru, my husband. One of the strongest sorcerers.” You respond and his lips purse at the word husband. 

“Right,” he whispers, “what about you?” You tilt your head, “I don’t understand.” “Who are you?” 

“My name is (L/n) (Y/n) - I’m sorry, Gojo (y/n) - daughter of the (l/n) clan. I will be your dutiful wife.” You tell him and Satoru cringes at your answer. 

At this point, he felt like he was talking to a robot- giving him AI answers. 

“Hm, I never heard of the (l/n) clan. You must be pretty weak then.” 

At his words, you turn your head, facing the front of the car again. You don’t respond to his words, knowing that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. 

From this little reaction, you knew the type of man Gojo Satoru is. To you, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you fulfilled the duties that were given to you. 

You were going to be the wife of Gojo Satoru.

[yanderelovlies]

𝓤𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

Note: this has a fantasy theme cause I love fantasy. I might do a part two for Dante tomorrow

Fandom(s): SWWSDJ

Character(s): Sunny Day Jack

Dancing has been your favorite thing since you were little. You even convinced your parents to pay for your classes. Luckily for everyone, those classes paid off as you were able to take your dancing to the stage like you wanted.

Your dance took you to many different places where you met tons of people. Since you never stuck around long you never make friends with people outside of your traveling company. Until you came to the big city of Saphir. It's the capital of the Xyelm kingdom, and it was here you were to perform for the kingdom in front of royalty to say you were nervous would be an understatement.

Yet despite your nerves, you performed confidently in front of every. Everyone loved it so much that the royalty invited you multiple times to perform for them. You even began to grow close to the family. Especially close to the Prince.

Prince Jack is such a kind and caring prince that it was hard not to be friends with him. He always made sure you had everything you need for every performance, and when you had to travel he made sure to send you all the supplies you needed free of charge. He was there when you doubted your ability or when some negative citizens called you awful things.

He was your protector and friend so when his parents offered permanent stay, and pay to perform for court every day you couldn't help but accept. During the day you spend time with the prince while dancing when asked. While at night you practiced your performances till you could stand no longer. It wasn't ideal to do things, but you got by.

Little did you know your nightly practice was a performance for Jack and Jack alone. He had seen you one night while leaving his study late. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way you danced in the moonlight. If he didn't know any better he would have thought you were higher being.

Since then he made sure to watch you every night. To watch what he felt was a private performance just for him. Until just watching wasn't enough, and one night he approached you after practice.

"Beautiful as always sunshine." He walked towards you his arms behind his back as he smiles at you.

You jumped in place Turing to face him "Jack! Oh by the gods you scared me! What are you doing out here?"

Jack chuckled "apologies sunspot, but I was watching your performance. It was enchanting that I could help but try to get a closer look."

Your face turned red as you looked away from him "w-well thank you....but you really should be asleep. Who know what court affairs you will face tomorrow."

One arm comes to rest comfortably at his side as the other comes up to wave his hand dismissively "It's the same thing they have been discussing for months. "When will he marry?" "Who will we arrange next?" "How are you to marry at this rate?" It's all quite boring if you ask me."

You smiled looking back up at him raising an eyebrow at him "and why haven't your married?"

His eyes met yours as he smiled adoringly at you "because they aren't you."

.

.

.

"What?"

He chuckled moving closer to have his hands take yours "They aren't you. You are who i want to marry."

You stared at him your face red before shaking your head and pulling away from him "Why would you give me hope like that? You could never marry me. I have no ties to nobles or royalty. They wouldn't accept it."

One cupped your face while the other once again takes your hand "I care not for what they think for them, not the ones next in line for the Thorne. I have known for a while that you would make a perfect ruler by my side. If that is what you want."

"Yet your parents still live, and there is no way they would accept it no matter how much they love my dance."

You tried to pull away, but Jack was adamant about keeping you close "They have already approved I swear. It's the rest of the council we are convincing. It was to be a surprise to you, but after tonight's dance I couldn't contain myself any longer."

He pulls you into his arms. "If you will have me. I would love nothing more then to rule with you at my side."

You searched his eyes for any deceit before slowly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Though you said nothing the kiss you shared said it all. A promise under the moonlight.

[arcielee]

Ahem... The discussion, though active, is very peaceful. You have quite different points of view, but you both listen to each other with interest and, even with some pleasure and pleasant surprise. You talk about rather banal things, you talk about well-known things, but you like it. You can talk bout anything. He tells you some new, interesting ideas. You recall old thoughts and facts. You, in principle, like to talk to your husband's younger brother. And it's completely mutual.

ModernAemond: "I can't say, that I agree with you, but I understand, why you think so. And, to be honest, I would have done exactly the same in your place."

Y/n: "no, you would have come up with something smarter, - soft laughter."

ModernAemond: "oh, please, you overestimate my mental abilities. - He smiled gently, kindly, - but thank you. I'm flattered. - You both nodded kindly to each other. There was no awkward silence, everyone gathered their thoughts."

Y/n: "it's just, that... You don't have to be tied to one place all your life. Country, city, home... If there is an opportunity to go somewhere, to move, then this is good, if desired, you need to move. Another question, is whether there are opportunities for this. - ModernAemond smiled a little sadly. - And you should, also remember, that there are no perfect places. There are no perfect countries, there are no perfect people. There is nothing fabulously perfect in our world. There are good and bad sides everywhere."

ModernAemond: "yes, I totally agree with you here. And there are difficult circumstances in life, because of which, if you act according to your conscience, you can't give up everything and go to live somewhere by the sea, for example. But, for my part, I will say, that... Um... - He frowned a little, - well, I think, that where you were born, where you grew up, that's where you should die. The place where you were born, you have to work for the good of this place. - You nodded your head, agreeing, that his words made sense. - And, on the other hand, once again, you are absolutely right, there are no ideal conditions, there are no ideal places. But, I think, some kind of attachment to your homeland, still has a place to be. The only place, out of all the countries, I've been to, that I really liked is *the name of the country, city*. It's a wonderful place, I really like it. But... I'm not sure, I could live there permanently. Grow old there, die there... - He shrugged his shoulders. - To spend a vacation there - yes, but to live... Like. Live. Don't know... I'm used to my Home."

Y/n: "well, it seems to me, that it's not about the "homeland" itself, but we are, most likely, getting used to the place. We value what we have in this place, we value those people, who surround us here, memories. I think, it's not about the piece of land itself, but about the feelings, that we endow this land with."

ModernAemond: "hmm... Maybe, you're right. I've never thought about it that way. But you can love this particular piece of land, even if you have bad memories."

Y/n: "yes, absolutely. But there is no paradise on our Earth."

ModernAegon: "Yes. We have to arrange this paradise for ourselves by ourselfs."

ModernAegon: "well, I'm not sure about the "pieces of land", - he puts his hand on your knee. - But my personal Paradise on our Earth very much exists... - You and modernAemond looked at him with interest. Smiling slyly, your husband smoothly moved his hand to the inside of your thigh, gradually and slowly bringing it closer to, what is between your thighs."

ModernAemond: with a disappointed face, he moved the eyepatch to the sighted eye, leaning back in his armchair.

Y/n: "... - Download completed. - Aegon!"

ModernAemond: "I hoped for a second, that he would tell me the exact location..."

ModernAegon: "ehehehhehehe."

I just love this. 💜

[faerunscursed]

Isobel sensed something off, though she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Her feet were bare as she moved through the grand hall of Moonrise towers. Walls as white as the moon, the beautiful stonework of the moon maiden engraved into the walls and symbolic images of the moon or stars all around. Stain glass windows held different imagery, some of flowers, others of the crescent moon, of brilliant white deer and more. And the sun shimmered through as it was setting offering up a kaleidoscope of colors. She reached her hand up and allowed it to dance in the colors with a chuckle on her lips before heading up the stairs.

The brief moment of joy faded, still concerned. Where had her father been all day? In fact, he had been gone for two days and not a soul had seen him. She had asked around, the cook, the maids, yet none of them had seen where he had gone. The throne room was empty, a few of the residents confused as they wanted to ask his advice but were turned away with word that he would be back hopefully tomorrow. Even Aylin seemed baffled by were the governor of Reithwin had gone, but she had told Isobel not to worry, that he no doubt had business to attend to that require his vital attention.

Still, there was this inkling of a twist that something was wrong with her father. A feeling like a creeping vine, twisting like a weed that threatened to kill of the moon flowers. She picked up her dress, and made her way to her father's chambers, where she paused in front of a bust. The silver gray stone held her mother's features so perfectly as she brushed her hand up against it. "Ma, I miss you… so much. If you were here, you would know what to do," Isobel took a breath and settled down at a desk. The minutes droned on to hours and she had dozed off. It wasn't until nightfall the the door opened up and Isobel jumped up and the chair fell backwards.

There, finally, was her father, though he looked as weary as a overworked horse. "Dad, what…. are you okay?" She questioned, as she shifted on her feet til she was closer and could get a good look at his features. Her elf ears flicked a little bit, showing her concern for him.

There was something to be said about those who had the ability to change the course of someones life. To make them question everything they had ever known and force them to begin anew. Melodia had been that, for the Elven man, whose family had long followed the guidelines that had been set by Shar. He had never questioned it, even when it was Shar who arranged that they would meet. "Go to Selune's most faithful, join with her and when it is the perfect time to strike, corrupt her and come back to me." Shar had said, only it hadn't quite worked out that way. For as soon as he set eyes on Melodia, she had stoked a fire in his heart like an aphrodisiac.

That love had led to the creation of something he never imagined he would have, a daughter, whom had so quickly become their everything. Under the light of Selune, he had found a new purpose, one not forged in loss, but love and warmth. With them at his side, he could accomplish anything. He could spread joy across the Reithwin. But alas, tragedy, it seemed, would always find him. His decision to turn his back on Shar's command came back to haunt him as his wife had become ill. Ketheric, for his part, had done everything he could to help his precious Melodia better, but not even the holiest of magics could save her from the throes of death.

Despair had overtaken him as many nights since, he struggled with his faith in Selune. He couldn't even enter the chambers that had been mutually shared by him and his beloved without feeling the ache of pain that accompanied him with her loss. Isobel would never know of this pain, either, and for her he put on a brave face. The face of the father she had known and the man broken pieces of a man that he was underneath the surface. One night he found himself returning, then, to the one place he had not dare to venture forth to since his union with Melodia. The temple of Shar. "Selune never cared about you, Ketheric. Why else would she take away your beloved Melodia?" Shar whispered in his ear, her voice loud in contrast to the silence of the dead around him. "Come back to me and I can make you strong again. You and your daughter could have a purpose, you could save your daughter from the same fate."

"My Isobel... I would never let that happen. She is all I have left of my beloved. I will protect her and keep her save." Ketheric said with a hint of determination as he glanced at her statue. "But, much like her mother, she can not be swayed. Nor can I leave her."

Many words were left unsaid as he departed, but he could feel Shar's disapproving judgement. Unbeknowst to him what role she would truly play in times to come. Yet, he had spent hours there, in Shar's presence, weeping the loss of his love. His face was sore from the tears he could not contain, and so by the time he returned to moonrise, he was all but spent. Then to see Isobel his chambers, his heart ached at her concern and at the clear evidence that she, too, was still grieving.

"Isobel, it is late. What are you still doing awake?" Ketheric could not get himself to look his daughter in the eyes as the pain hit his chest. "You should be in your bed, I am sure Aylin misses your company, does she not?" There was a pang of jealousy in that, too, knowing that he lost his love, and that Aylin was still there to hold Isobel in the way he could not. A lovers touch was different from a father's after all. "I've noticed she has comforted you, I am glad. I suppose apart of me is envious,but I promise I will be fine."

[kennyparrots]

How To Take Care Of A New African Grey Parrot: The Best Tips

Parrots are on of the most pursued pets by virtue of their astounding ability to mirror and talk works. They attract different people with their bewildering tones and social characters.

One of the most dazzling kinds of parrots anytime found is known as the African Faint Parrot. This kind of bird has an amazing ability for sorting out some way to communicate human words. In all honesty, it is seen as the smartest understudy of talk of all parrot species. This sort of parrot can have better correspondence with its owner since it is so clever. Their abilities are for more developed than most various birds, which makes them so entertaining to have as pets.

The Cheap african grey parrot for sale available to be purchased comes in two particular kinds of species. The principal arrangement is the Congo African faint, and the second is the Timneh African Dim. The viewpoint that amazingly perceives these two from one another is the shade of their tufts. The Congo Parrot has a truly red tail and the body is a grayish assortment. The Timneh Parrot differs in that the faint on its body is substantially more dark and the tail is a faint maroon. The two sorts can grow up to 14 inches long.

The principal qualification in the females and folks is the way that they have an other body structure. The male have a greater head and a greater neck, while the females have meager and more modest features. The folks will regularly moreover turn out to be fairly greater than the females, notwithstanding the way that they every so often are exactly the same size.

These birds need a colossal obligation from their owners in case they will prosper like they would in nature. A fittingly centered around African Faint can live for quite a while in the event that the owner views it as a person from the family, as opposed to just some pet. The environment you put them in should be gigantic enough that they experience no trouble opening their wings, playing with their safe toys, and moving around. A parrot that has no space to move could rely upon pecking at themselves to keep involved. This could make huge damage the bird and it is another clarification that you should continually participate and play with your parrot so it doesn't get depleted. They need an environment that is incredibly natural and an owner who can understand how to manage their necessities.

African Grays are ordinarily extremely respectful pets, yet moreover with another animal, they need express planning and much perseverance is required. Now and again, they may be morose and eat at you or bite on things around it to keep involved. Since they successfully get penchants, you ought to be careful in order to show them sure schedules quickly and make a decent endeavor to leave out the tenacious indecencies.

These birds are phenomenally affable. They love to help out people and are extremely hyper once in a while. They will set you feeling perfect on even your most clearly awful day. These parrots love to be pet and scratched in basically the same manner as. Regardless, when they live in the wild, they love to team up with their gathering. The birds will moreover return the love by truly regurgitating or endeavoring to kiss you! Unwind notwithstanding, both of these exhibitions indicate veritable affection. Notwithstanding the way that, if your bird endeavors to kiss you it is recommended that you don't allow your mouth to near it as your spit can genuinely hurt the bird.

Comparably likewise with another animal, these parrots love thought. They will not live as extended without it, indeed. Guarantee you never ignore your parrot and treat it as you would a your family member. It will be essentially assuming everything falls into place and will reside to its most extreme limit. African Grays become miserable without companionship, so if you are apparently running low on time delighted in with your bird, you should ponder buying a second one to remain with it.

Also, this will keep your parrot away from doing fiendish things, for instance, chewing and gnawing.

The most ideal way to truly sort out how fantastic parrots are is by making them one more extension to your friends and family. You will not at any point regret the things learned and the new friend that you have. They are astounding animals and are so insightful, you may essentially end up bantering with your parrot more than the rest of your friends and family!

For more details, visit us : 

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[wri0thesley]

i know we all love toji being nasty, but i'd love to see a (slightly) sweeter side of him and the reader as mamaguro, if possible?? maybe featuring the reader in his lap, the first time toji's ever really wanted to really do right by his partner... the ability of a man like him to have a softer side has plagued me ever since akutami said he mellowed out with his wife 😭

saying the important things - toji x fem!reader (2.1k)

toji’s not the kind of man who wears his heart on his sleeve. but he’ll try, for you. 

warnings: none! reader is mamaguro and uses fem pronouns, pregnancy is briefly talked about. this is just soft honestly

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

Megumi is sleeping.

He lays in his crib, his chubby cheeks squished against the soft mattress, his hair dark and messy. At times like this, you can see so much of Toji in him, and it makes your heart ache. You can’t believe that you helped create something so perfect – from his tiny face, the tilt of his nose, the perfectly formed fingers and toes . . . You find it hard to believe that Megumi could really be yours.

“You’re starin’ at the kid again.”

Toji’s voice comes from behind you and startles you – you jump, guiltily turning to see your husband. His voice is dark and rough, but as you see him you realise that his face is anything but. Oh, sure – he has a scar bisecting the corner of his lip, muscles rippling out of a tight black shirt. But the look on his face is peaceful, and as he meets your eyes it just seems to fade into something even more so.

“You come stare at him,” you say, “you’ll understand why.”

He makes a little huff of amusement – but Toji Fushiguro is under your thumb, so he humours you by moving forward. Big arms wrap around your waist, making you feel safe and held in his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder, sharp green eyes on the messy-haired bundle of wonder sleeping in the crib that you’d watched Toji build with a screwdriver clenched between his teeth.

(“How hard can it be?” He’d asked you. “S’flat pack, right? Guys who aren’t half as smart as me do it--”. In the end, it had taken six and a half hours and Toji had had to physically pick you up and sit you down on a chair because you couldn’t stop bending down to help. He’d placed his hands on his hips and pointed an accusing finger at you. “You’re gonna get yourself stressed, sweetheart, and it isn’t gonna do any good for the kid.” You hadn’t expected Toji Fushiguro to be the over-protective kind . . . but you’d be lying if you said that his pout and furrowed eyebrows weren’t adorable).

Megumi’s eyes had turned the same shade of green as Toji’s around the five month mark, for the record.

“We did a good job, huh?” There’s a hint of pride in Toji’s voice that he does his best to dampen down – he’s trying to be cool, even now. Your hands come to rest over his own, where they’re clasped onto your hips.

“I think we did a great job,” you tell him, and snorts out a little laugh against your neck that tickles, making you bend back into sub-consciously. “No, really. I think he’ll fetch a high price on the black market. Look at all of that hair.”

“Takes after me,” Toji tells you. “I think I’d fetch a high price too.”

“You know you’d fetch a high price,” you say, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. You find yourself on your tip-toes just so you can feel a little closer to equal to him. “You’re a wanted man, Mr Fushiguro--”

“You’re a wanted woman, Mrs Fushiguro,” He says, bending his head – and his lips brush across yours, and you feel your entire body fill with the heady knowledge that he wants you. You know it – he makes it clear in the gentler way he holds you against him, his attempts to do chores around the house, the way his fingers entangle with yours when you’re out doing grocery shopping as a little family. But there’s something that you can’t quite express that feels all the more special about the embrace and the words when you two are on your own.

It hadn’t always been like this.

When you’d first met Toji, he’d been all dark flashing eyes and dangerous smile and tugging hands, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he flirted and charmed his way into your life. His voice had been dark and deep, he’d winked at you and made insinuations and insisted, occasionally, that this wasn’t a relationship so much as a mutually beneficial arrangement--

Until someone else had flirted with you in a club and Toji had grabbed your hand and pulled you into him, arm wrapping around your waist. Perhaps you’d been trying to make him jealous – you’d long ago accepted that your crush on Toji and desire to make him yours officially were going to come to a sticky end, seeing as he seemed to value his freedom so highly – but you hadn’t expected it to work.

He’d murmured into your neck that night that you were his, forever, and he never wanted to see someone else’s hands on you again--

“Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend, finally, then?” You’d asked, a hand cupping his cheek, thumb brushing the scar on his lip. Toji had grinned at you, dark and deep and dangerous but warmer than you’d ever seen it. He’d held you that night like he’d just realised how precious you were.

“Sweetheart,” he’d said to you in response. “Hell. Y’can call me your husband if you want.”

You had laughed and thought he was joking.

“Maybe I’ll try that after a proper proposal,” you’d said, tapping his nose. You’d expected him to grab your hand before you could make contact and pin you underneath him, tell you off for being so cheeky – but instead, the pad of your finger had made contact with it and you swore you’d seen a dark flush dust his high cheekbones.

You’d figured that was the end of it, until two weeks later he’d pulled out an expensive-looking ring whilst the two of you watched a movie.

“Well?” He’d asked you, looking almost uncomfortable – almost afraid that you might say ‘no’. “Whaddya say, angel? Gonna try callin’ me husband now?”

And you had.

He’d confessed everything to you before he’d asked about taking your name. His exact line of work, why he wanted to leave his old surname behind – and though you know you shouldn’t have, you’d simply taken it in stride. If this was what it took to have him, you would accept it; it had been too long, and you loved him too much, to simply walk away. You’d found out you were expecting Megumi six weeks before the small wedding and had told Toji immediately.

He’d seemed scared, but he’d seemed excited to – whirling you around like you weighed nothing before he anxiously put you back down and stepped back.

“That’s fine, right?” He’d asked. “I dunno much about kids. I haven’t hurt ‘em or anything, have I?”

He’d made a real effort around the house whilst you were incapacitated by your pregnancy, too – sometimes too much of one, as he batted away your attempts at cooking or cleaning with an insistent ‘I can do it, sweetheart!”. You’d let him make mistakes – honestly, a couple of disasters notwithstanding he’d made a decent effort.

You’re not afraid to leave Megumi alone with him, though Toji still hasn’t quite mastered the life skill of ‘talking to my baby as if he is my child and not simply a friend who I want to slightly intimidate’.

Sometimes you see Toji sat in an armchair with Megumi in his arms, a tiny hand wrapped around Toji’s massive thumb, and you think you could die from how much you love them both.

“C’mon,” Toji murmurs, breaking the kiss. “He’s fast asleep.”

You let yourself be dragged over to said armchair in the corner of the room, next to the little case of children’s books you and Toji had chosen for him

Megumi likes dogs; he claps his pudgy little hands together whenever one is introduced in the bright colours and flat pages. At nine and a half months, he had furrowed his little face and pronounced; “Gog. Goggy.”. Toji had grabbed the cheap camcorder that he’d been recording as many milestones as possible on and tried to bully Megumi into saying it again, but all of the footage he’d actually gotten was you laughing in the background as Megumi attempted to cross his chubby little arms and look at his father in disapproval. He had not said ‘goggy’ again until you had thoughtlessly picked up a little pair of black and white stuffed dogs whilst in a toy-shop with him to show him. Toji had had to go back to the shop ten minutes before closing to purchase them, and even now Megumi tucks them under his arms when you take him out in his pushchair.

You let yourself, too, be pulled into Toji’s lap as your husband gets comfortable, readjusting your body so he can wrap his arms around you and you can bury your face into his neck.

He smells like cigarettes and your laundry powder, familiar and comforting.

He takes a deep, pleased breath that makes the muscles in his throat ripple – you bring up a hand and trace them, fingertip lodging in the hollow of his throat for a moment before your hand moves down to rest over his clavicle, and then where his heart is beating steadily under his clothes and skin.

“You feelin’ me up, baby?” He asks with a smirk. “Y’can just ask, you know--”

“I’m feeling your heartbeat,” you say to him, listening to his pulse in his neck. “I think it might have stopped. We should look into it.” “Is this because I made that joke about the black market? Babe, you’d never let me fuckin’ sell our kid--” “Don’t swear around Megumi,” you say, automatically, your eyes swivelling to Megumi’s crib without moving your head from its comfortable position. “You’ll give him a dirty mouth.”

“You love my dirty mouth,” Toji purrs, the arm around your waist pulling you in tighter and closer. Heat rushes to your face and you give him a headbutt in the neck that’s half affectionate and half warning.

“Not now,” you say, sighing comfortably. Toji is warm and solid and always there for you. “I’m too comfy.”

“Ah, far be it for me to interrupt your nap-time,” he teases, but he pushes a kiss onto your forehead anyway. “Hell, I could go to sleep here myself. Nobody said havin’ a kid would be this much effort.”

“Everyone said it,” you say, stifling a yawn. “You just didn’t believe them.”

He snorts again.

“Y’got me there,” he says. “Wouldn’t change him for the world, though.”

“You’re just saying that because he takes after you,” you smile against his skin. “If he looked like me and acted like me, if he was sweet and demure--”

This gets another laugh from Toji, who knows exactly just how not sweet and not demure you can be.

“I’d love him even more, probably,” he says. “We’re gonna have some fuckin’ blow-ups in the future, sweetheart. Good job you’ll be around to sort out your men, right?”

The arm not about your waist moves so he can cup your face now, tip your chin up towards him. His eyes are still very sharp, but they’re softened with love as he looks down at you. Toji gives you these moments in the quiet of night – when he’s not formerly-of-the-Zenin-family, when he’s not the ‘Sorcerer Killer’, when he’s not an assassin-for-hire – when he’s just Toji Fushiguro, your husband and father of your child. You treasure every single one of them and hold them close to you like a precious pearl, stringing them onto a necklace of memories you’ll cling to forever.

“I’ll be around forever,” you tell him. “If I die, I’ll come back to haunt you and tell you what a shitty job you’re doing on the PTA.”

He snorts.

“Don’t even joke,” he tells you with a flickering smirk – but that smirk quickly drops away to be replaced with a look of intense solemnity. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Are you getting soft on me?” You ask, but the hand tipping your chin up does a little jerk.

“Please,” Toji says, a little softer now. “Let me tell you I love you and mean it.”

Sparks fly all through your stomach, your heart twisting in your ribcage. You rarely see this kind of gravitas on his face – he rarely takes this tone, almost needy as he implores you to listen.

“I love you too,” you breathe. “You know that.”

He pulls you into a kiss that knocks the breath out of you, that makes you feel like you and Toji and Megumi are the only real people on Earth and everyone else is an imitation.

“Yeah,” he says, gruff. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearin’ you say it, though.”

[inkindofmagic]

How to survive Mercury Retrograde

Astro Notes

🪐 What is Mercury Rx

Mercury retrograde is a natural part of our cosmos, and brings us just as many gifts as troubles. Mercury is the most frequent planet to station retrograde. If we learn how to navigate these times wisely, we can create opportunities all year long for realignment and inner growth.

The first thing to understand is Mercury is not actually traveling backwards in our sky, he just appears that way.

Mercury rules our communication, including all of our technology and systems of information exchange. Mercury rules the part of us which absorbs information in an instant and transmits that information to others. When he retrogrades, the normal flow of energy is reversed. Ideas and thoughts seem to get stuck within our mind, instead of easily pouring out to others. The same thing occurs with our digital communication; e-mail servers go down, social media platforms show their bugs, and our normal systems fail to meet our expectations. It can certainty be a frustrating time. We can have a hard time speaking, writing or even creating art.

Mercury Retrograde is a time to review, recalculate, recalibrate, and return to the past. In fact, it’s the perfect time to disengage and turn within.

USEFUL TIPS

🪐 connect your words

Through the period of Mercury Retrograde, pause before you speak. Take a few deep breaths and collect your thoughts, especially if you feel at a lose for words.

🪐 let others speak

Watch out for taking up too much of the floor in meetings and dominating the conversation with your consciousness.

🪐 connect with nature

Things do have a habit of breaking during Mercury retrograde, especially technological systems. Go for a walk, look at the sky, or dip your feet into the ocean. Remind yourself that not everything is digital, and sometimes we need a forced break from our devices to connect with what really matters, ourselves.

🪐 read the details

You can sign contracts in Mercury Retrograde - BUT you want to read them thoroughly twice, maybe three times. Mercury retrograde has a habit of helping us miss the details. Our eyes and mind move too quickly over the words, and we don’t give ourselves enough time to process the meaning. Read things slowly, take your time with them. If you are not comfortable with the terms, allow Mercury retrograde to break the contract and start anew.

🪐 confirm plans

Double check all meeting times and travel arrangements. Flights get missed. Texts are forgotten. Emails go unread. Everyone’s plans shift, and we often see a bit of chaos. Even if you are a thousand percent certain you have the right time, still verify. Likewise, have compassion for others if they miss a meeting or run late to your lunch. Time is tricky and Mercury retrograde makes working with it even harder.

🪐 spend time with yourself

A wonderful side affect of Mercury retrograde is the increased ability to talk with yourself. Retrogrades spin the energy inward. This allows for deeper access to our heart, our intuition and our inner compass. Spend time journaling, pulling cards and exploring the inner workings of your mind. Try to start each morning listing your gratuities and affirmations for the day. This clarity will help you pace your day and avoid some of the common Mercury retrograde pitfalls.

🪐 be open to realignment

If Mercury Retrograde breaks something in your world, consider it a good thing. If energies are perfectly aligned, Mercury won’t be able to affect them. If he does wreck a few things, then they were never aligned in the first place. See this as an opportunity to build anew from the ground up.

🪐 learn flexibility

Breathe, chill out, and go with the flow. In fact, the more that you learn to roll with the punches and be flex, the more you’ll actually enjoy this time.

🪐 let go off the drama

Think of Mercury Retrograde as an opportunity to be the bigger person, own up for things that didn’t work out, and just be kind.

USEFUL CRYSTALS

Agate

Amazonite

Onyx

Aquamarine

Apophyllite

Make the best out of the next three weeks, slow down, enjoy nature and be open to the gifts of this Retrograde. Instead of fearing it, get excited for the chance to realign your world and the information it contains. Happy Retrograding!

Learn more about Mercury Retrograde ✨here✨

Sources spiritualgangster.com & cosmopolitan.com

via @inkindofmagic

[burnedbyshoto]

indulge me

indulge me: an arrangement

— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space

word count: 13,547

a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch​ thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this

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If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.

First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable. 

There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’

You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.

Sex sucked.

But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!

Audios were better.

Words were best.

But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.

“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”

He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.

“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”

You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.

“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”

Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.

So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.

You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.

The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.

The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.

The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you’d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.

And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.

What was a girl to do?

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Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits. 

Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.

To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.

This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.

‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’

Solid.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.

You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!

“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions. 

You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.

Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart. 

Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.

Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words. 

He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —

“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.

Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!

NO!

“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”

Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.

“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.

Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.

“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”

Nailed it.

Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll. 

“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”

“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”

“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”

You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.

It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.

You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.

“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag. 

“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”

You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.

“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”

“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”

“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.

His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.

Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!

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“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”

Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom. 

Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty. 

But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.

“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”

Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list. 

You wonder who you were gonna get.

“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.

You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.

Oh boy.

“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”

“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”

“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”

“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”

You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.

Y/l/n, Todoroki S.

“Would you look at that.”

“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

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So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.

“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”

“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”

A smile.

“That’s perfect.”

And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”

“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”

Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!

Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.

He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.

“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.

“I believe so!”

And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.

The paper itself isn’t that hard.

It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.

“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”

“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”

“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”

“Dark.”

“You know it.”

“I’ll avenge you.”

“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”

Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.

Incoming call from: dd.

“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”

.

Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.

He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.

Weird.

The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.

Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them. 

Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.

Was testing products on your own a thing people did?

Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—

“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.

Oh.

Ohh fuck.

.

.

.

“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”

“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”

You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.

A fucking poser at best.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.

“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”

Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”

You smile, slightly embarrassed. 

“That’s true, um—”

“I think it’s time—”

The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”

Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”

“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”

Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”

You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.

Jesus Christ.

.

.

Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.

ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”

...Interesting.

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Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that. 

You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.

Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.

You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.

There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.

The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’

But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety. 

Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.

The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.

You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.

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“Do you want a sticker?”

That was the beginning of it all.

You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker. 

“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”

It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.

Fuck.

Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.

You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now. 

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“Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”

You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently. 

“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.

“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.

“What?!”

“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.

“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”

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“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.

You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.

“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.

“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.

“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”

You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.

“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”

“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”

“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”

The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.

But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking. 

He would not embarrass you.

He would not.

“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave. 

If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”

There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.

There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto. 

You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet. 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”

“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.

“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”

Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”

You blink.

“Eh?!”

“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”

He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.

“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on. 

Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!

“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”

Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say. 

“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”

You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.

“Let me know.”

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Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]

Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]

You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]

Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]

You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]

Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]

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It has been two months since the contract was signed.

Two months.

Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home. 

It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.

“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”

“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped. 

“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”

You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.

“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.

“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”

There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.

“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.

Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.

Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.

“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.

.

.

He was so good to you.

So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.

He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.

It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.

It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.

The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.

Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out. 

You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.

“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.

Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.

But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.

You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty. 

You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.

“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late. 

“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening. 

“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.

You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!

“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it. 

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.

“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding. 

It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away. 

Well, you try to, that is.

Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

 “You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”

The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).

You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.

“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”

There was no way you would cave.

“Two.”

The silence between the two of you was heavy.

“One.”

Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.

“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.

You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.

“No!”

“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”

“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”

“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”

“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.

“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”

“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”

“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”

“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”

The effect is evident and instant.

Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.

“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”

“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”

A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking. 

“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”

There’s a shift in the air.

“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”

“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice. 

“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”

You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 

“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”

The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!

“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”

Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.

“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”

“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”

A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.

“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”

You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name. 

His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position. 

“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”

You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.

“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”

“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”

Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good. 

“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”

SLAP.

“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.

Fuck, you wanted this.

THWACK.

“Again.”

THWACK.

“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”

SPANK.

“O-One, thank you, daddy!”

WHACK!

You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.

“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”

You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.

You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.

There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark. 

“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.

“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”

You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!

“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”

His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan. 

There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.

Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely. 

Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good.  Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”

Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.

Shouto took notice and hummed contently.

“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”

You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.

“One.”

Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.

“Two.”

Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.

“Three… four…”

Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.

“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”

You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.

“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”

You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.

“Ten.”

Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed. 

“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”

Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.

“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”

“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly. 

Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”

You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.

“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.

You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.

“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.

He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room. 

Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.

Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.

“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”

You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.

Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.

You shudder.

“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”

“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”

“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”

Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down. 

You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.

“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.

“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?” 

“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.

With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.

Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.

“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response. 

“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”

“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.

“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”

“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”

You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.

“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”

His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.

“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.

On your clit.

“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”

It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.

“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”

Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.

“What do you want, sunshine?”

“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”

“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”

You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”

“Was it—?”

Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth. 

It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.

“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”

“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?” 

“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”

“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks. 

You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.

“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”

“In me?”

“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”

You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.

“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”

Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.

“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”

You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”

“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”

And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.

“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”

“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”

“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”

“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.

“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip. 

Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth. 

“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”

His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input. 

But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”

“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”

“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”

“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips. 

His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries. 

It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more. 

Intensifying. 

Exhilarating. 

The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.

You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.

“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”

“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you. 

A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck. 

His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.

You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.

.

.

.

You open your eyes to a dark room.

Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”

Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”

You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.

“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”

You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.

“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.

“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.

“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”

You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.

“I thought I was the only one.”

.

.

.

“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.

“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.

“Look!”

Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.

“Is that—?!”

“YES!!!”

“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”

“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”

Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”

There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked “shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning. 

Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”

[jeyramarie]

Mr. & Mrs. Holland-(Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader) part 8

summary: war is about to begin 

warning: angst, cursing, idk what else lol  

w/c: 1,462

a/n: hi guys!!! sorry for the little hiatus 👀 but i decided to finish up this fic at 10 parts, so two parts left 🤭

i’ve been getting a few mob!tom ideas lately so let’s see if it goes well! if you like it and wanna be tagged, lmk and as asual; happy reading everyone 🦋

prologue~ part 1~ part 2~ part 3~ part 4~ part 5~ part 6~ part 7~

“Jane Cavanaugh?” Y/n whispered under her breath in complete shock, not taking her eyes off the paper as Tom walked back and forth around the office. 

“This can’t be right.. There were never records of him being married.” he muttered as he ran his hand through his hair. She sat there in complete shock, not even sure if she was breathing. Suddenly she felt Tom’s hands turn the desk chair and grab her face trying to break her out of her trance. His voice sounded mumbled as her thoughts ran over her. 

“Love? Look at me…. look at me!” Tom shouted as his wife’s eyes drifted from his chest to his eyes. 

“That’s why she mentioned her husband. Tom, she thinks we killed him…” 

“Darling, calm down okay?” 

“She came into our house, she knows where we live, Tom. She… she came here.. She has access to everything of ours right now. What the fuck are we gonna do?” Y/n rambled as she stared into Tom’s eyes in desperation. 

“It’s gonna be okay. I won't let her take over.” he said as his thumbs rubbed her cheeks softly. She placed her head on his chest, wiping her tears on his shirt making him move a hand to the back of her head, pulling her closer. 

“I didn’t want to do this but.. I have to call my dad.” and that’s what she did after walking out of that office. Y/n needed to speak to her father, do the fact that she recognized Jane’s maiden name. Her dad must know her or have something on her. The phone rang about 4 times before someone answered. 

‘Hello?’ a soft voice answered, making Y/n wonder if she had dialed the right number. 

‘Mom?’ 

‘Y/n? Honey, why are you calling?’

‘Well, I’m great mom. How are you?’ she said as she rolled her eyes to her mother’s behavior. 

‘Real funny but why are you calling? Do you need money?’ 

‘No, I don't need money, mom. I need to speak to dad.. immediately.’ 

‘Oh, of course you call right before the funeral.’ Y/n’s face turned pale as her breath got caught at her throat. 

‘Funeral? Wh-what happened?’ her mother’s voice sounded muffled as she heard the explanation of her father’s death. Y/n’s father was the perfect man until she was old enough to start her own mob when she sold her off to the Holland family. She had already met and fell for Tom before she knew about the arrangement. Apparently, he felt threatened by his daughter’s business abilities so he felt the need to get her out of his way. 

After some time Y/n had enough and hung up the phone, cutting her mother off. He was poisoned. The funeral was the next day, she wasn't invited but she was going to show up anyway. Y/n is the only heir to the business and fortune, of course she was going for a last hurrah. She walked out of her office with a pissed off expression and walked into Tom’s office to see Harrison and William there too. 

“I need to talk to your lawyer, right now.” 

“Why? What happened?” Tom asked, standing up and walking towards his wife who was fuming in anger. 

“My father is dead, his funeral is tomorrow. I know my mother, she’ll try and steal everything… I’m the rightful heir, I need that lawyer. Now.” Y/n said with teary eyes, receiving pity looks from Harrison and William who just stood there. 

“I’ll give him a call and see if he can come over. Alright?” he asked, putting his hands on her cheeks.

“It’s gonna be alright, darling.” Y/n nodded and looked to the ground as she took a deep breath to calm down. 

“Thank you.” she muttered under her breath as Tom pulled her into a hug. 

A few hours went by and she was in her husband’s office as he continued to make calls. Y/n doubted any lawyers would just go to their house last minute but she needed the lawyer. As you spoke to William and Harrison someone knocked at the door making the room go silent. William walked over there and opened the door to reveal a well suited man with a briefcase. 

“Michael, thank you so much for coming on such short notice.” Tom said, shaking the man’s hand. 

“It’s no problem. I’m always here to help. What’s up?” 

“Well, it's not me. It's my wife. Darling? Come here.” he said, stretching out his hand towards you as you mumbled a ‘excuse me’ to Harrison and walked towards the mob boss.

“Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for coming.” Y/n said as she shook his hand and gave him a kind smile.

“Pleasure. What seems to be the problem, ma’am?” 

“I have a family issue…” and she continued to explain everything that was going on between her and her parents. The rest of the day was spent rummaging through files, making calls, faxing papers, everything that could help Y/n get what she deserved. Turns out her father did make a will and by the looks of it it was the only one. 

The next day came around, rain drops ran down the bedroom mirror as Y/n stood by it while drinking a cup of coffee. Suddenly, a pair of arms circled around her waist pulling her towards a broad chest. She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, feeling comfort and peace. 

“Are you ready for today?” Tom mumbled against her shoulder before giving her a soft peck.

“Not really but.. It has to be done. I’m just thankful you’re gonna be there with me.” Y/n said as she turned in his arms to look up at him. 

“I’ll always be here for you.” he smiled as he leaned in and kissed her lips slowly. They began getting ready, both wearing black of course. After a few hours Dylan came around with the car, opening the door for the mob wife to get in followed by her husband. The Holland’s finally arrived and immediately started turning heads since no one expected them to go. 

“Why are you here?” her mother asked, making everyone turn their heads to look at the interaction.

“You invited me, remember? And I came to collect what’s rightfully mine.” Y/n smiled wickedly as she pulled out papers from her purse. She handed her the papers and continued walking to her father’s casket to say her last goodbye. 

“I know you would’ve hated this but I became what you feared most… You.” she whispered before kissing her fingertips and placing them on the casket. 

“What the hell is this, Y/n?” her mother shouted, making the mob wife turn and chuckle dryly.

“It’s my father’s first and only will. Which says that everything goes to his heir, aka me.” 

“Wh-what? This can’t be happening.”

“Oh well it is. You have till the end of the week to leave and I really really hope you don’t make this difficult.” and with that Y/n grabbed her husband’s hand, walking to the car. 

“Why are you doing this?” her mother shouted as Y/n stood by the car door ready to climb in. 

“This is what you get for not protecting me.. when you knew what they were gonna do to me… for selling me to a mob boss. Everything that happens now is what you deserve, dad got out of it rather quickly but you? You’ll see.” She smiled and lowered her sunglasses before climbing into the car and driving back to her office. 

“I want her car towed, right now.” she ordered as she stared at her phone while William made the call for the tow truck. 

“Where do you want it to be taken?”

“Home.” William nodded and told the person on the phone. Once at her office she climbed out and walked to the door but immediately stopped when Tom called her when he lowered the window. 

“You want me to stay with you?” she smiled and walked towards the car to give him a sweet kiss. 

“You don’t have to stay, I’m okay. Just call me when you get home, okay?” Tom nodded, giving her one last peck and stared at her as she walked into her building. He closed the window and turned his head to William.

“You know what to do.” the man nodded and got out of the car to go protect her boss as a horrible mob war was being planned. Tom didn’t know when it was gonna happen but he knew the business. And after that funeral, a war was deemed to happen. 

mr&mrs.h: @ilovefandoms102 @halsmultibitch​ @guillerminacaba @teenwishes08 @runawayolives @theartisticqueen @quacksonlover81 @wonderfulfluffer @spidernerdsblog @nerdy-collector-festival @tyb1 @bella03riv @blueberrynonnie

[cursestothemoon]

A Cruel Favor

Regulus Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Request: Could I get and angsty and sad blurb with Regulus? Nothing specific in mind, Regulus’ entire life is pretty tragic already- just throwing some strained and kind of heartbreaking romance into that mix sorry i like pain this is how i cope

Summary: Your relationship with the youngest Black brother in the form of memories seen in a pensieve by Sirius Black.

Warnings: Death, sadness, crying, the dark mark, ghosts

Word Count: 3265

Author's Note: babe you asked for a blurb and i just did not listen i am so sorry, if you'd still like a blurb let me know and i'll whip up a little short piece but regardless i hope you enjoy this 😌

“You didn’t know him! You didn’t want to know him!” Your voice bellowed, trembling with the burning anger you held in your heart for the eldest Black brother.

It was true, back when the war was just ‘politics’ and the ‘Dark Lord’ a name whispered behind closed doors, Sirius Black had already made up his mind about his family- Regulus included.

“He was my brother.” Sirius spoke the statement as if just the mere fact of relation was supposed to trump that he hadn't even spoken to his brother in the months prior to his death.

You let out a bitter laugh, “Don’t lie for the sake of saving face, you never saw him as a brother; not then and certainly not now.”

Sirius seemed taken aback by your accusation, his words getting lost on his tongue for a moment before he quickly regained his fiery passion for argument.

“He betrayed me.”

“You were the one who betrayed him!” Your accusatory finger pointed at Sirius.

The eldest Black brother’s features went stoney, “The moment he decided to get that mark, was the moment he lost his name as my brother.”

Everything in the mangey old house seemed to still, a silence falling so powerful you could hear a pin drop. Your slow footsteps were exaggerated in the quiet, each creak ringing in both yours and Sirius’ ears. With a tired hand, you pushed a small pouch onto the surface of the dining room table, the vials inside clinking together softly.

“They’re numbered.” You breathed out. “There is so much you don’t know, Sirius.”

You walked through the door and onto the street hastily, not wasting any time to apparate back home.

Sirius sat down in the nearest chair with a huff, his knees spread as his shoulders slid down the back of the chair. He hadn’t remembered just how far up his brother’s ass you were.

Roughly, he rubbed his face with his palms before lazily reaching for the dark velvet pouch on the table. The emerald green reminded him not only of his brother, but of his entire family, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sirius couldn’t help the groan that left his mouth at the memories of his family that seemed to plague his mind.

Fittingly, Sirius opened the pouch to reveal just that. The silvery, viscous tendrils that floated through each vial were immediately recognized by the pureblood. You had given him your memories...and a letter.

You deserve to know him.

Y/N L/N

Sirius’ curiosity regarding what secrets of his brother’s seemed to be swimming in the vials bubbled over, he was sure 12 Grimmauld Place was harbouring a pensieve somewhere within its walls, he’d just have to get up and find it.

17 October 1974

Barty Crouch Jr. was an insolent child, the type to collect bones and listen to them rattle. He had a nervous tick, his tongue slithering past his lips every so often in a manner that was so serpentine it made your skin prick.

“Come on then, L/N, be a good little girl and do as I say.”

You threw down your quill in frustration, “Bugger off, Crouch. I’ve said no.”

“Don't be like that,” Barty smirked, coming closer to where you were sitting. “It’s only some homework. You were going to do yours anyway, why not get some extra practice in by doing mine too?”

“I’d rather have unforgivables practiced on me than do anything you ask.”

His sickly sweet smile wasn’t one you were expecting, his voice low and threatening, “That can be arranged.”

Your blood ran cold as you watched his nimble fingers move toward his wand pocket in his robes. Truthfully, you should’ve known better. Being in the same house as Barty allowed you the luxury of hearing all the gossip surrounding him and his hobbies, dark magic and curses being at the top of that list.

“Barty.”

The cold baritone made the sandy-haired menace stop in his tracks, his face contorting into an expression of mild annoyance and frustration.

“There’s no need for you to be acting like a child. Quite humiliating asking someone else to do your work, isn’t it, Crouch? Are you too thick to get it done yourself?”

Barty turned to look at his friend, words jumbling as he tried to figure out how to get himself out of the hole he had dug.

“Reg-” The stone-like stare had Barty cowering and mouth snapping shut, the boy seemingly trying to fold in on himself.

With a simple nod of his head, Regulus directed the him to make himself useful elsewhere, but you were far too taken by the handsome boy in front of you to notice the stomping footsteps of Barty’s as he left. Of course you had known of Regulus Black, seen him from afar and even once had Transfiguration with him, but seeing him up close was an experience in and of itself. His skin was ghostly pale, hair dark and wavy as it fell just below his ears, and his cheekbones were high accentuating the slant of his nose. Regulus Black was beautiful, everything about him seemed to be placed just right and sculpted with the utmost care and attention.

He turned to you, your eyes meeting before he gave you an appraising look.

“Regulus.” His hand struck out, a rather rugged introduction.

Slowly, you took his hand in yours and proceeded to shake it. You couldn’t seem to rid yourself of the feeling that your hand was far too dirty, far too boring to be touching his, to even be near his.

“Y/n L/n, thank you- for that.” You were proud of yourself for not allowing your voice to shake.

“I’m sorry he was a bother.”

Regulus seemed to lack the ability of holding a conversation, he nodded- you assumed a goodbye- and got ready to make his way to the dorms.

“Wait,” Your voice came out before you could stop it. “You could stay, I’m almost done anyway. We could...talk.”

The suggestion had the boy's ears turning pink, his words coming out stuttered and jumbled, a stark contrast from the boy who had told off Barty so eloquently.

“If you- alright.”

You thought for a moment before speaking again, “You’re not very good at talking to people are you?”

“Excuse my blatant honesty, but you make me quite nervous.”

It was your turn to have your ears turn a soft hue of red, “I could say the same about you.”

5 April 1975

“Haven’t you got your own side of the blanket? Must you be so close to me?” You giggled, trying to roll away from Regulus while still avoiding the grass.

Regulus smiled, his eyes closing and nose scrunching in thought before he spoke, “I prefer to be close to you; making sure you won’t run out on me.”

Both of you began giggling, his head falling to nudge your shoulder. Ultimately, Regulus shuffled away from your side, allowing just about a foot of space in between your bodies. The wind rustled your hair as you turned your neck to look at the youngest Black as he sat up, his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles, arms propping himself up as his palms pressed flat against the floor.

It was no secret that Regulus was beautiful. His dark hair- now gently flowing in the cool breeze- stood out against his pale skin, freckles were dusted delicately over his aristocratic nose and sharp cheekbones. You could tell he’d never worked a day in his life with how handsome and soft his hands were. His fingers were long and slender, never dry or rough, and his nails perfectly trimmed and always clean.

Regulus Black was absolutely perfect and you were regretting ever complaining about his proximity.

You were quick to right your wrong, bashfully you raised yourself onto all fours and crawled over to your boyfriend. Regulus tried to hold in his smirk, avoiding turning to look at you directly but you could tell his resolve was breaking.

“Regulus…” You spoke his name with an innocent lilt, sitting back on your shins once you were close enough to have your knees touching his thigh.

He hummed, not giving you the satisfaction of having his full attention.

A huff of frustration fell past your lips at his stubbornness as you threw your leg over his thighs, straddling his legs just above his knees. His composure was thinning, a wide smile threatening to spread across his thin lips.

“You’re far too close,” he teased, his hand coming up as if trying to stop you from getting any closer. “I believe you are on my side of the blanket, L/n.”

“Don’t be so fickle, Black.”

Regulus’ pale blue eyes found yours, his delicate hand coming up to run across the delicate collar of your dress.

“It’s in my nature isn’t it?” His eyes held a certain sadness that you could not place, one you wouldn’t see again until a few years later.

Your lips parted to respond to him, only to be interrupted by a Hogwarts ghost floating nearby. It was a ghost neither you nor Regulus were familiar with and as she passed she mumbled something- rather spitefully- about young love. The event had your train of thought derailed, a quiet giggle erupting from your throat as the transparent, deceased woman floated on.

Regulus seemed to find the woman just as amusing as you did, his eyes crinkling with laughter as you two now looked at each other in fits of hysterics.

“Oh her poor soul!” You exclaimed, eyes looking off in the direction she had gone. “If you were a ghost, Reg, where would you haunt with your undead presence.”

His expression contorted into one of reminiscence, “Uncle Alphard’s cherry orchard just a few kilometers from Monts de Venasque. When we were little, Sirius and I would play in the trees. I could sit in those cherry trees for hours, everything just seemed to disappear. Alphard’s been burned off the tapestry since, but he’s left the property in my possession along with the small house on the land. I think if I were to choose one place to spend eternity, it would be there.”

You smiled softly at his answer.

“And you?” He asked, bringing you out of your lovesick haze.

“Me?” You chuckled. “I’d suppose my eternity would be well spent as long as I was somewhere with you.”

28 June 1976

It seemed the entirety of 12 Grimmauld Place shook with how hard Sirius had slammed the front door.

He was gone.

Completely and entirely gone.

And Regulus was completely and entirely alone now.

Regulus swiftly made his way up the stairs and to his room, just barely avoiding a collision with the poor house elf.

“Y/n’s room.” The words were spoken clearly and concisely as the floo powder fell from his shaky hands.

The time of night- 2:27 am- was of little importance to Regulus, he needed to see you.

You woke up with a jolt, the sound of someone stumbling into your room and panicked mumbling doing nothing to ease your nerves though the mop of dark curls had your heart calming down.

“Reg?”

He turned to look at you with heartbroken eyes, watery and bloodshot.

“He’s gone.” He choked out.

You kicked the blankets off yourself and stood up from your bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor.

Keeping a calm tone you slowly got closer to him, “Who’s gone, love?”

His pain was so evident, rolling off him in waves, “Sirius- he’s not coming back.”

“Oh,” You sighed, treading lightly. “I’m sur-”

“No!” He cried, “Burned off the tapestry, probably with the Potters- he’s gone an-and he left me with them.”

Regulus’ anguish, tear stained cheeks, had your own eyes welling with unshed tears. It was clear words would do nothing to calm him, instead you opted for pushing yourself into him and taking his crying form into your arms. His body seemed to give out as you held him, his tears soaking your shirt as he wailed into your neck.

Neither of you could tell how long you stood in the middle of your room seemingly holding him together, but his cries subsided into gentle whimpers and the occasional sniffle as his nose nudged the side of your neck.

His voice came out rough and strained, just barely above a whisper, “Please don’t- don’t leave me like Si- like he did.”

You could feel your heart shatter, “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

“I don’t know how I would’ve survived in this mess if I had never known you.”

Your breath came out ragged as you spoke the truest words you've ever dared to speak, “My heart beats for you, Regulus.”

30 December 1979

His forearm itched.

It seemed to always have an odd itch ever since he was sixteen.

Regulus watched your form get closer, bundled in a thick overcoat and a dark blue scarf- Christmas present from himself- wrapped neatly around your neck. You were the picture of beauty, like a living doll with your soft smile and adoring eyes.

“My love.” You greeted him, leaning in to place a soft kiss against his cold cheek.

His eyes seemed distant, your only greeting a tight lipped smile.

Your eyebrows knit together, “Everything alright?”

Regulus nodded, his eyes swimming with a sadness so familiar, “Just taking you in.”

He pulled off his leather gloves, stuffing them deep in his coat pocket before reaching his hand out to hold your jaw, his thumb running across your skin. The action was comforting and you couldn’t help but close your eyes to savour the feeling of his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

You let out a small gasp when you felt him take your lips in a slow kiss. It was passionate, loving, yet there was a certain finality to it that had a shiver run up your spine in the most unpleasant way.

“I have the cruelest favor to ask of you, and I can only hope you’ll forgive me once I do.”

Your stomach dropped, “What do you mean, Regulus? What- what favor?”

“Please, try to understand-”

“What favor?”

“I couldn’t-”

“Tell me what the favor is, Regulus.”

Your voice had an edge to it that made him compose himself almost instantly.

He took a breath before speaking, his eyes looking off somewhere behind you as he spoke, “He’s getting stronger.”

You didn’t need to ask who this ‘he’ was, the tone made it very clear.

“He has these… horcruxes. Incredibly dark magic, I don't know how many but I know of one. It’s hidden and I’ve found out the location, I can destroy it I know I can but-”

His tone was hushed and your heart rate had started to pick up speed.

“But you don’t know if you’ll live to tell the tale?” You asked with a humorless laugh.

The look in Regulus’ eyes had told you, you were right.

“I can’t let him continue. If this could stop him, weaken him even, it’s worth whatever the consequence to myself may be.” He argued.

You pushed yourself further from him, “I can’t- I won’t lose you. No, there’s no way.”

His expression shifted into one of sorrow and pleading, “I have to.”

And you knew there was no changing his mind.

You bit the side of your lip anxiously, looking at the ground before asking, “And this favor?”

The heartbreak was almost palpable, his voice going raw.

“I cannot be fully prepared to do anything that is necessary to destroy this horcrux if-”

He cut himself off with an intake of breath.

“If I know you’ll be waiting for my return, if I know what I have to leave behind I may be tempted to not go through with my plan.”

You couldn’t help but feel and look horrified, “What are you asking of me, Regulus?”

He seemed to flinch at the tone of your voice, a tone you’d never used before and one he couldn’t name.

“I need you to obliviate yourself from my memory.”

It felt as though your chest had collapsed in on itself, “I-I couldn-”

“You have to!” Regulus cried, his arms gripping the sides of your face as you couldn’t help but let a choked sob escape from your lips. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to go through with it, I can't know that there’s a possibility of leaving you.”

“Please, Regulus, you can’t ask this of me.” You choked out, searching his eyes for some sort of humor, something that told you it was all a cruel joke.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, both of your eyes closing as you two took in short, ragged breaths.

Everything seemed darker. The flowers in the Black garden were cold and dead, the snow wasn’t snow at all, instead dangerous sheets of ice. It was then you realized the war, the death eaters, everything had become so real.

“There is a letter on your bed at home, I’ve settled everything for you. I’m going to stand against the pillar, my back to you, and you are going to do it from behind the hedges so we won’t see each other after. You need to leave once it’s done alright?”

You nodded solemnly, knowing there was no use in fighting it. The cause was bigger than you, bigger than Regulus. Everyone made sacrifices, this just had to be yours.

“My heart beats for you, Y/n, whether I know it or not.”

“And mine for you, Regulus.” You smiled sadly, pulling his wrist up to your face and pulling back his sleeve to reveal his dark mark, pressing a kiss to the skin you spoke, “You aren’t them, you never were and you never will be.”

Regulus smiled but said nothing as he lowered his arms and put his gloves back on. With slow steps he walked to the pillar and looked back at you one last time.

“I’m just taking you in.” He whispered, before slowly turning.

You took your wand from your coat as you took even slower steps to stand just far enough for him not to notice you after it had been done. Regulus felt his resolve crumble with each crunch of your boots against the frozen ground, his eyes screwed shut- tears rolling down his face freely- as he prepared for what was coming.

With a shaky hand you raised your wand.

“Obliviate.”

Present

Sirius seemed to be thrown back from the pensieve, as if the memory had rejected him from viewing any longer, still sensitive. He felt an odd tickling sensation run down his cheek, his hand raising to brush away a stray tear as he fell into a nearby chair.

He never knew…

***

You pushed open the backdoor of your small home, the warm scent of cherry trees welcoming you. The sun was just barely starting to set as you looked off into the horizon of the vast field of trees, if you looked long enough you could make out the handsome silhouette of a boy you once knew sitting up in a cherry tree.

Only a few short months later, the lone figure would be joined by another… a brother.

tags:

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@tayyx

[darkpoisonouslove]

Do you have any Skloom Headcannons? Domestic or Their reactions to the other getting hurt?

I don't usually do domestic or hurt/comfort or Sky x Bloom (I hate their ship name; it sounds awful). That said, I am doing a rewrite and, like it or not, i need to develop their relationship so I have come up with some headcanons.

Bloom's art is something that Sky adores. He himself has technical skills when it comes to creating art but it never came to him naturally because he was always taught to not express his true feelings on anything in a way that someone could end up using against him. He is in awe of how much emotion and enthusiasm there is in Bloom's drawings and he can't believe that she came up with all those fantastical creatures and different fairy designs before ever seeing real magic. Bloom gets him to join her in creating art sometimes and it helps him relax and not feel like the heir to one of the most important realms in the Magic Dimension for a while which he really likes.

Bloom ends up telling him a lot about her life on Earth early on because she doesn't have much experience with the Magic Dimension yet and because she misses home and Sky is curious about the place she comes from. She ended up telling him how her parents met and it led to the unpleasant for Sky conversation about his parents' arranged marriage. He had a perfect opportunity to tell her about Diaspro then and there but he didn't want to feel her pull away from him when spending time with her is the best part of his days. It was the moment when he decided he was going to put his foot down and refuse the marriage to Diaspro, though. He was just hoping he could keep Bloom from ever finding out about that since his and Diaspro's parents were pretty much the only ones that knew about the engagement.

Bloom gets fairly disillusioned not just about the magical world but also about relationships. Up until she learned about Sky's arranged marriage and she had her powers stolen, everything seemed like a fairytale. Sure, there was trouble even early on but she had her dream, her friends and the perfect almost boyfriend. Even the search for her origins couldn't taint that. But after everything turned upside down she decided that relationships aren't some storybook romance and involve real work. She is happy when Sky agrees that they both need to put some effort into rebuilding their relationship after what happened but she never sees him as this perfect prince Charming anymore which she really comes to appreciate after the whole story with Avalon when she fell for how he seemed to give her everything she ever wanted. Sky feels real and while it's far from perfect, she knows he's really trying for their relationship.

When the Trix attacked Red Fountain for the Codex, Sky wasn't killed by Icy's attack. But he was dying from her ice creeping closer and closer to his heart, which would freeze it and kill him. And Bloom didn't suddenly gain healing abilities. It was just that she was afraid of losing Sky because of how much she loves him and all of those tender feelings she has for him allowed for a very subtle wave of her fire to move through his body and melt all the ice magic which saved his life. Bloom couldn't possibly pull off something like that with anyone else. It was her love for him that saved him.

Similarly, Sky's speech helps her get rid of Dark Bloom. However, later Sky finds out that while Bloom wrestled with her darkness back then, she still doesn't have it under full control because she felt like he loves her good parts but he hates Dark Bloom. And Dark Bloom is more an actual part of Bloom than any of them would like her to be, which makes Bloom insecure about whether Sky is actually able to accept all of her. It makes her buy into his behavior after he was spelled by Diaspro and that requires a lot of talking and fixing things later on but they get through it.

The first time Bloom went to Eraklyon, there was no time to really show her around because of Diaspro being kidnapped. As it turned out, her first impressions of Sky's home included her and her friends being chased around by a raging Sky. He feels horrible about it and about the fact that bringing Domino back put the spotlight on his and Bloom's relationship in a political context that's annoying both of them. They have to play the whole thing off as being so in love that they never considered the political implications behind their actions to appease all the other realm leaders who are worried about a potential alliance between Eraklyon and Domino. Bloom is forced to spend time at the place that previously scarred her keeping up political facades and Sky hates it. Until he sees a painting of him and Bloom in the garden that she has yet to finish. It looks like the garden is the one place where they can drop the pretenses and just be themselves and that's why Bloom likes spending time there.

At a certain point, Sky learns that he was adopted in a shocking turn of events. Bloom doesn't know exactly what she's going through since she was told early on that she was adopted and it didn't bother her too much. But she can definitely relate to the desire to know about your real parents and the fear that they may have abandoned you because there was something wrong with you and they didn't love you. She isn't sure she can help him as much as she wants to but she's still with him every step of the way while he's processing and Sky appreciates her support. Her love and Brandon's friendship (as well as the support of his other friends) are things that don't change regardless of the big reveal about his past and it's those things that help him deal with the new information.

[five-rivers]

Green Sky Highway

Phic Phight Phic for @deuynndoodles

.

The Fenton Ecto Cell Bettery (aka the Better Battery) was designed to draw power from not only an internal, pre-charged store of ectoplasm, but also from ambient, atmospheric ectoplasm.  This meant that it would never run out of juice so long as it was in the Ghost Zone.  The Specter Speeder was designed to travel in the Ghost Zone.  Thus, the Betteries were the perfect power source for it.  In theory.  

In practice… Well, that just wasn’t working out, and Maddie didn’t know why.  She gripped the underside of the dash and tried to push herself deeper beneath it to get a better view of the machinery.  

“Maddie?  You see anything?” asked Jack, who couldn’t fit under the dash.  He’d been inspecting as much of the engine as he could from the inside, which wasn’t much.  The Speeder wasn’t designed to be serviced while free-floating in the Ghost Zone.  

Which, now that she thought of it, was a serious oversight.  

“Everything looks fine,” said Maddie.  “Except that it doesn’t have any power.  Nothing’s lighting up, but all the connections look good. You?”

“I can’t get anything to work.  Anything.  It’s like… we’re in some kind of technological dead zone.  But that doesn’t make sense.”

Maddie pulled herself out to see Jack vigorously scratching his head and shedding dandruff everywhere.  “Ghosts do tend to disrupt technology.”

“But we fixed that.  We designed all our weapons to work with that.”

“We know there are things we don’t know,” said Maddie, “and it’s always good to find new things!  Though not pleasant to find them out like this…”  They should really test their inventions more, honestly.  

But it had been over a year of testing since they opened the portal.  They had to jump in at some point, didn’t they?  That was the whole point of the portal.  

She sighed.  “Well, we didn’t have a lot of forward momentum when the portal cut out.”  She looked out the window.  “We could see if we can get out and engage our jetpacks.”

“Uh, about that,” said Jack.  He swung open the door to the jetpack cabinet.  The empty jetpack cabinet.  “I may have forgotten to put them back after refueling them.”

“Jack…”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Maddie massaged the bridge of her nose with her mostly-clean knuckles.  This was a repeat of the handle inside the weapons vault.  At least he wasn’t pushing the blame for it back onto Danny or Jazz.  That would definitely have started a fight.  

On the other hand, there really wasn’t any guarantee the jetpacks would even still be functional, so maybe it was for the best. For certain values of best.  

She groaned.  

There was a knocking sound.  “Is that coming from the engine?” Maddie asked.  

“No…” said Jack, slowly.  “I think it came from the door…”

They both turned to stare.  Something moved outside it.  They shifted to get a better view out the window.  

Phantom was out there, tapping on the door with a ten-foot pole.  

“That little unnatural abomination,” cursed Jack under his breath.  “He’s going to scratch the paint!”

Phantom apparently saw them and waved.  “Hey!” he shouted, just loud enough to be heard through the walls of the Speeder.  “Do you guys need a lift?”

Jack and Maddie turned to each other.  

“How did he know we were here?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack.  “Do you think he followed us?”

“It wouldn’t be difficult, but I’m surprised he didn’t show up on our detectors.”

“He does seem to have the ability to drop off of them.”

“True,” said Maddie.  “So, how do we handle this?  Fenton bat?”

“I don’t know, Mads.  He might be, uh, sincere?  That time with the ectofiltrator he did help me.”

“That’s one, single, datapoint.  He’s a been a menace every other time we’ve encountered him.”

“I don’t know that we have much other choice,” said Jack, nodding towards the dead engines and the empty jetpack cabinet.

Maddie huffed out a sigh, then looked back at Phantom, who waved again.  

“Fine.  We still have to decide how to deal with him while we’re cooperating with him.  Or if he decides to show his true colors.”

“Good idea.”

.

Danny knew this had been a terrible, terrible idea the moment his parents opened the door to the Speeder armed to the teeth.  Why did they always feel the need to do that? None of the weapons, with the possible exceptions of the Fenton Bat and the Fenton Crowbar could even work here.

How his parents had, on their first jaunt into the Ghost Zone, managed to run smack into the Time Locked Lands was beyond him. They had to go to the one place in the Ghost Zone that the Speeder wouldn’t work and after coating the Speeder with some kind of anti-ghost spray that Danny absolutely refused to touch again.  Ever. Especially in ghost form.  Except with a ten-foot pole.

(If they’d left the spray off, he could have just pushed the Speeder back out of the Time Locked Lands.  But, no, they had to make everything as difficult and painful as possible.)

“I am not carrying all that,” said Danny, flatly.

(Especially because it would all turn back on once they left the Time Lost Lands, and if there wasn’t a Specter Deflector under all that, he’d eat his own belt.)

“Then we aren’t going anywhere with you!” proclaimed Maddie.  

“You’re stranded in the middle of the Ghost Zone. I don’t think you have a choice.”

“We do!”

“I could literally just fly over there and snatch you right now.  Plus, again, stranded.  Do you even have any food in there?”

“Of course we do!” said Maddie.  “We aren’t incompetent.”

Jack looked guilty.  Danny decided not to bring it up.

“Okay, but still, you’re going to run out eventually, and then you’ll still be floating in the Ghost Zone with no way to get out.  You aren’t going to get another friendly ghost coming by.”

“I’ve never seen a friendly ghost to begin with!”

“Maddie…”

“I can just leave, you know,” said Danny, planting his hands on his hips and bluffing for all he was worth.  He was not leaving his parents here to be used as hostages or who knew what else.  

Hopefully, they wouldn’t call the bluff.  They shouldn’t.  No sane, reasonable person would.  He was their only way out of this mess.  On the other hand, his parents had never been completely sane, reasonable people.  

Danny thought his odds were about fifty-fifty.  Which meant he could hope.  

Jack and Maddie had an intense, whispered conversation. This, thankfully, lead to them divesting themselves of most of their visible weaponry.  Which meant that they still had more guns on them than most professional soldiers during a firefight.  

Well, it was better than he’d expected.  But it was still too many.  

“Take the Specter Deflectors off,” he said.  “What do you think will happen if I try to carry you and you have those on.”

There was muttering.  

“Come on, come on,” said Danny, snapping his fingers. Which really shouldn’t work through his gloves but did anyway.  

Sometimes ghost nonsense was good for making lasers fly from your hands, and sometimes it was good for tiny aesthetic breaks in physics. It was a grab bag, really.  

“Alright,” said Danny.  “I’m going to fly over and pick you up.  Don’t hit me.”

Oh, jeez, he was not looking forward to carrying them all the way over to the portal.  Sure, he could bench press a school bus, but there was a difference between holding up a school bus for a minute and carrying two people who hated his guts a mile through enemy territory while flying slowly enough not to give them windburn.  

Sure, it’d probably only take a few minutes, even then, but those would be the longest few minutes in his entire life.  Not counting his actual death.  

.

Being carried by Phantom had to be the single worst experience in Jack’s entire life.  

It wasn’t the speed or the lack of control – he loved carnival rides – or the height – Jack couldn’t tell you how many buildings he’d jumped off in pursuit of ghosts – or even the fact that Phantom was a sinister specter, and ectoplasmic emanation, a putrid piece of protoplasm – he’d been carried by ghosts before, usually ones who were a lot more upfront about wanting to kill him.  

Actually, Jack didn’t know why he didn’t like it. He just didn’t.  

Maybe it was just how uncomfortable it was?  But Jack did way more uncomfortable things. Like interacting with his sister-in-law. Brr.  

Maybe it was the lurking feeling behind every interaction he ever had with Phantom that there was something he just wasn’t seeing, some hidden truth that would make everything about Phantom, every contradiction, every confusion, make sense.

Nah, that couldn’t be it.  Maddie would have figured it out by now.  That’s why they made such a great team.  He noticed the things she didn’t, and she noticed the things he didn’t.  

“You’re going the wrong way,” snapped Maddie.  

Just like that!

Wait.  That was a really bad thing.

“I’m not going the wrong way,” snapped Phantom.  “I’m avoiding Walker’s prison.  I don’t know how he didn’t catch you on your way out, but I’m not eager to be thrown in jail for a thousand years.”

“Ghosts have jail?” asked Jack surprised.  

“Depends where you are,” said Phantom.  “Walker isn’t really a sheriff, though.  There’s no government behind him and he just makes up rules randomly so he can lock up anybody he doesn’t like.”

“Like you,” observed Jack.  

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re even wanted by whatever passes for the law here?”

“First, rude.  Secondly, there are realms in here that are just as organized and civilized as any country on Earth.  Just because you opened your portal into the equivalent of post-apocalyptic Detroit doesn’t mean it’s all like this.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Maddie.  

“I could arrange that, you know,” said Phantom, stilling.

Jack laughed nervously.  “Maybe another time?”  The ghost would do what it would do, but they didn’t need to encourage him to bring them even deeper into the Ghost Zone.  They were currently banking on Phantom’s obsession with heroics to get them home, but if they changed the equation…  Yeah, Jack didn’t want to deal with the consequences of that.  

Ghosts were like computers that ran only one program. One homicidal, destructive program.

It was like that thought experiment about an AI whose job was to maximize the number of paperclips.  It’d just keep on making more and more paperclips until nothing was left.  Which was why they had to be stopped.  

Easier said than done, as Jack and Maddie had learned.

“You don’t have to be so freaked out,” muttered Phantom. “It isn’t like I’m going to kidnap you or anything.”  He pretended to sigh.  

What was the point of that?  He had to know that Jack and Maddie wouldn’t fall for his tricks. Actually, come to think of it, he was miming breathing, too, and had been the whole time.  

Maybe that’s why Jack was so uncomfortable.  The constant undercurrent of deception.  

Hmmm… something to think on.  

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, pointing.  

“Uh,” said Phantom, who did a double take.  

Ooh, that wasn’t reassuring.  

.

Danny clenched his teeth, his parents’ reactions to him weren’t reassuring, and even less reassuring was the way Pariah’s Keep had moved from its usual creepy location and to this new creepy location. Not that there were any non-creepy locations in the Ghost Zone.  It was part of the place’s charm.  

No, really.  Some part of Danny craved the creepiness.  He was half-ghost, after all.  

(Even if his idea of creepiness was, according to his friends, sort of lame.)

But back to the main point.  The keep really, really shouldn’t be here.  And it was creeping him out.  

It should be okay to just… fly past it, though, right? Just being in its airspace in the past hadn’t done anything bad.  So, flying by with his parents in tow shouldn’t do anything either.  Right?

Danny put on more speed, just in case.  This coincided with a bunch of large ghost ravens (or were they crows?) dive bombing them and forcing him to land to defend himself and parents.  The only land around being the rim of the island that supported the keep.

He knew something like this would happen. Maybe not exactly this, but he just knew he’d be attacked and everything would devolve into nonsense, and—

Huh.  The birds weren’t attacking him, just his parents.  Oh, these were racist (mortalist?) birds.  Gross.  Trust Pariah Dark to have bigoted birds.  He called up a shield to protect his parents.  Whereupon they shot him in the back, shouting about how he betrayed them to the birds, because why not?  

Why was his life like this?

He pushed himself up off the ground.  Starbursts twinkled behind his eyes.  Neither his parents nor the crows were in sight.  The crows could have gone anywhere.  His parents on the other hand…

There was only one place they could have gone.  

Well.  At least none of the nonsentient traps would work on them, seeing as they were humans. What were the odds that they’d run into one of the sentient defenders?

Well… considering the ravens?

Yeah.  That’d be about one hundred percent.

.

“Maddie, I don’t know about this…” said Jack, examining the tall, vaulted ceiling.  

“We had to get away from Phantom.  This was the only way to go.”

“But he came here for a reason, Mads,” whispered Jack, tip-toing.

“Yeah, this is definitely a trap.  But what can we do?”

“Jack?  Maddie? This is not a place you want to wander around in! Oh, holy—” There was a loud thump.  

Maddie grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him forward. “We have to get away from him.”

“Come on!  This is a floating island!  I’m your only way off!  Why are you like this?”

“He has a point,” said Jack.  

Maddie stopped.  “I guess he does.”

“This is literally the worst place you could have picked to run away!”  A sound like a very large door opening and closing reached their ears.  “This is Pariah Dark’s place!  Where did you even go?”

“Mads?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s Pariah Dark?”

“I think that was the name of the ghost that sucked the town into the Ghost Zone a few months ago.”

“Please, guys!  I’m trying to help you here!  This place is ultra-dangerous!  You could accidentally – yikes! – wake up Pariah Dark.”  

“Maybe we should…”

“Yeah,” said Maddie, “maybe we should.”

“Phantom!” called Jack.  “Phantom!  We’re over—” The floor opened up underneath them and they fell into the dark.  

.

Maddie woke to a dark room, tied to a chair.  She noticed the faintly glowing ghost in front of her and jolted backwards.

The ghost wore a set of painted and engraved plate armor, a pair of lavender-white eyes glowing from behind the slats of its visor.  A knight, of sorts, Maddie supposed.  

“You…” droned the ghost in a painfully stereotypical ghostly moan.  “Enemies of the king… why have you come here?”

“Huh?”

That was Jack’s voice.  He was tied behind her, apparently.  

“We don’t have anything to say to you,” snapped Maddie.

“Uh,” said Jack.  Something twisted behind Maddie.  “Are you a friend of Phantom?”

“A friend?  A friend?”

“I’m going to take that as a no,” muttered Maddie.  

The door of the room flew off its hinges.  “Fright Knight!” shouted Phantom, pointing a glowing finger.  “Wait, you aren’t Fright Knight.  Who are you, and what do you want with my- With, uh, the Fenton ghost hunters?  Who I don’t know very well at all. Promise.”

“What,” said the ghost.  

“What,” said Maddie.  

“What,” said Jack.  

“Okay, forget everything I just said.”  He gestured at the ghost.  “Who are you?”

“My name is Paladin, my liege.”

“Okay, okay, cool, cool.  I- Wait, what?  What did you call me?”

“My liege?”

Phantom looked like he was having an existential crisis.  

“Maddie was right!” exclaimed Jack, who couldn’t see Phantom’s face.  “You did lead us into a trap!”

“What?  No?  I’ve never even met this guy before!  You are a guy, right?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Right.  I’m going to put that on the backburner and freak out about it later.  How are you- Why are you—” Phantom shook his head.  “Why are you here in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It’s your keep.”

“Since when?”

“Say what now?” asked Jack and Maddie at once.  

“Look, this is news to me, too.  But, back to the question.  You.  The keep. Why?  I mean, you weren’t here before.”

“That is because Pariah sealed me, my liege.  When you defeated him, I was released and immediately swore fealty to the true king.  You.”

“I am so freaking out right now, but we’ll revisit that. Later.  Right now, I have to get these guys home.”

“But they have hostile intentions towards your person, my liege!”

“Everyone has hostile intentions towards me.  I’m honestly surprised you haven’t attacked me yet.”

“Ah.  My liege, perhaps you should seek the services of a priest, if all your experiences with new people are such.”

“Is that the medieval equivalent of a therapist?”

“I fear I do not know what that is.  Why do you ask?”

“Because the last time I talked to one of those, they purposefully picked at every one of my insecurities and then tried to murder my, uh.  Someone close to me.”

“An evil counselor, then,” said the knight, gravely.

“I want to agree with you, but somehow I feel like you’re talking about something completely different than the image in my head.”

“That may be true, my liege.  Doubtless, you are very wise.”

Maddie was… lost.  

Very lost.  

Even so, her prerogative was escaping.  She started twisting, trying to get to the knots around her wrists.  

“Did you, uh, pilot the castle out here?”

“Yes.  I sensed that mortal enemies of the king, that’s you—”

“I will debate that as soon as my brain stops screaming at me.”

“—had entered the Realm.”

“Right.  Yeah. Thank you.  But I can handle these guys.  And I need to get them home.  Please. I made a deal with them.”

“With these?”

“Hey!” said Jack, offended.  

“I mean, I use the term deal pretty loosely.”

“Hey!”

“But yes.  Please.  Just.  Dang.  How did you tie them up that quickly?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Do you mind if I take the chairs?”

“They are your chairs, my liege.”

“I’m still not used to that.”

“Are you quite certain you want to take them?  And just… Let them loose?  The dungeon here is very functional.  We even have an oubliette.”

“Raincheck.  But thank you.  Really, I mean it.”  Phantom flew behind Maddie, and she protested as the chair she was in was yanked upward. “Uh… I might have gotten turned around a time or two, so if you could…”

“Of course!  The keep does seem to have sustained some damage, so we will have to take some detours.”

“Phantom!  Phantom! Put us down and untie us.”

“Nah, I think I like this better.  Your kids can untie you once I bring you back!”

“You’re going to drag us all the way through the Ghost Zone?”

“That’s the plan.”

.

The rest of the flight was surprisingly pleasant. No one attacked, and his parents were much easier to carry in the chairs.  Sure, they struggled, but the struggling was much more manageable than the wriggling from before.  

They were mad at him.  But they were always mad at him.  So.  

No loss, really.

With the utmost carefulness, Danny set them down in the middle of the lab, still tied up, and then began zapping then tossing their most troublesome inventions into the gaping maw of the portal while they screamed at him.  

Normally, he wouldn’t do this, especially after successfully rescuing his parents and hopefully raising their opinion of him, but some of those inventions were painful.  Like.  A lot painful.  And dangerous.  Also, he was doing his level best to avoid thinking about the whole ‘king’ thing.  

Which he couldn’t do forever.  

Especially since Jazz walked down the stairs, probably drawn by the screaming, to see Danny shoving half of the Ghost Catcher through the portal sans-strings.  

“Uh,” said Danny.  

“Get that ghost, Jazzy-pants!”

Danny vanished and fled upstairs.  

.

Jazz had seen many strange things in her life, but that scene was one of the weirder ones.  

It took some time to untie her parents, longer to extract herself from the ensuing rant and their attempt to salvage their equipment from Danny’s all-too-explicable rampage.  Honestly, she was surprised Danny hadn’t snapped earlier.  

She opened the door to his room.  It was empty.  She squinted. He was not just leaving her hanging like that, with no context to what happened other than their parents’ ranting.  She opened her door.  

Danny was lying on his side on the middle of her rag rug, hugging Bearbert Einstein.  

“A ghost told me I was king and that I needed a priest.”

Oh boy.  

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 5}

I am so excited to share the last part of this story with you.  It means so much to me to be able to share my work and have people enjoy it, so thank you to everyone who has read this little fic.  Huge shout out to the extremely talented @fizzydrink698 for being an inspiration to my writing and an all-around sweet and supportive human.  And the biggest thank you of all to my beta reader, @harry-on-broadway, for being the most encouraging and wonderful friend, without whom I never would have had the confidence to write this, let alone put it out into the world. 💜

Hope you enjoy the finale of Mamihlapinatapai.

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: smut, emotionally abusive parents, usage of degrading names

Rating: Mature

Word count: 6k

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

As Soft As Petals  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

It was late into the evening, maybe even so late it was actually early, and you were standing outside the prince’s door, frantically knocking on it.

“Y/n, what’s happened?!  Is everything alright?”

You walked straight into the room, not even bothering to wait for Chan to invite you in.

“It’s my mother.  I can’t find her anywhere.  I assumed she went with a separate wagon party the way she came when we left Lajor, but everyone in the servants’ quarters says they haven’t seen her in hours and I’ve looked everywhere I can think of and - “

“Shh, shh, Y/n calm down, it’s alright,” Chan said, taking your hands in his.  You were full on hyperventilating at this point, your body starting to physically shake with worry.

“I-I just… these past few weeks I almost lost you and then we almost went to war and I can’t handle not knowing where she is.  I just can’t imagine what I’d do if she - ” your voice caught in your throat, unable to bring yourself to say your worst fear.

“I know, I know, but it’s going to be alright,” Chan soothed.  “I’m sure she’s fine and we’ll find her, but you are in no state now to continue looking for her.  Why don’t I ask a few of the guards to keep searching the palace grounds, and I’ll send a rider to Lajor to make sure she would have made it back with us?”

You looked up at him.  “You would do that?”

“Of course, Y/n, this is your mother we’re talking about.  We’ll do everything we need to until you know she’s safe,” he said, guiding you gently with him towards the door, knowing you wouldn’t want to let go of his hand based on the vice-like grip you currently had on it.  He leaned his head out into the hallway, calling for one of the guards stationed at the end and relaying what he wanted done to continue the search for your mother.  All the while you were watching him with an expression of awe and gratitude.  It still surprised you, how he seemed to know exactly what you needed, and even more so that he was willing to do whatever it took to do it for you.  He walked you back into the room, taking the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, still catching your breath from your moment of distress.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said gently, leaning down, his lips ever so slightly grazing the crown of your head.

You felt a shiver run through you.

“Your Highness,” you lifted your head to say something, hoping to avoid talking about what he had just done, but were stopped in your tracks by the look on his face.

“I was actually hoping to see you tonight.  I need to tell you something, Y/n.  And you might not like what I have to say, but I can’t keep denying it for the rest of my life.  These last few weeks have shown me that I can’t take anything for granted, so I intend to stop right now.”  He paused and stood up, giving you room to stop him if you wanted, but when you remained silent he took that as permission to keep going.

“I’m in love with you.  I think I always have been.  I’m in love with the way you hum that same silly tune to yourself when you’re doing chores.  How you can read a map of any terrain, how you’re not afraid to correct me when I make a mistake while drilling our sword fighting techniques.  I’m in love with the smile you get on your face when you ride through the woods and the way your hair looks when the light shines on it through the trees.”

You were aware your mouth was slightly open, your eyes staring at Chan like a dumbstruck deer, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the words he was saying.  You’d always known you still had feelings for him, and could only dream he reciprocated those same feelings.  But hearing him say all the little things you didn’t even notice about yourself, hearing him say he loved you for those things, your mind was at a loss for what to do.

“I love how you care for our people, how you always have their best interests at heart.  How you would be willing to never speak about these feelings I know we both share so as to not jeopardize your ability to serve me, to serve them.  But most of all I love that you see me.  Not the statesman or the fighter or the ruler, just me.”

You made up your mind then.  To hell with the king’s threats, with the questions your mother had asked you about responsibilities and sacrifices.  You had been making the greatest sacrifice of all for the last sixteen years, but no more.

You launched yourself at him, his arms wrapping around you immediately and your lips meeting his.

It was somehow exactly like that night five years ago and nothing like it at all.  You’d both grown in experience since then, having had other partners over the years.  Your lips moved smoother against one another’s, and it was more passionate than it was gentle.  But you felt that same feeling of euphoria glowing inside you, knowing that you were here with him and he was here with you and you were both finally admitting to what you’d always felt but never dared to acknowledge.  You felt yourself sinking into him, willing to let the tide of his love carry you away if it meant you could stay in this moment forever.  Your lips parted from his, Chan titling your head up to look at him.

“I need to hear you say it.  I need to know that you love me, too.”

You took his face in your hands, willing your voice to convey how sincere you were.

“I love you Chris.  I love the way your hair is always ruffled in the morning and that you sing to yourself when you think no one can hear.  I love how you take three cubes of sugar with your tea instead of two.  I love your determination to better yourself and your dedication to better your people.  I love that you have always treated me as an equal.  I love your dimples and your eyes and the way you make me feel safe when my hand is in yours.”  You brought your thumb up to wipe away a single tear that was sliding down his cheek, his eyes shining as he listened to your words.  “It has always been you, Chris.  It will always be you.”

He smiled then, that same blinding smile that had bound you to him from the day you met.  He kissed you again, then began moving his lips down the side of your neck, your head tilting back to allow him more skin.  His hand reached back and in a few quick motions the laces of your bodice were loose enough for your dress to fall off your shoulders.  He kissed downwards over your chest, and your breath hitched as the dress moved lower and lower, eventually dropping to the floor, leaving you almost bare for him.

Your hands came up to thread through his hair as you mocked, “You are entirely too clothed for my liking, Your Highness.”

At that, Chan whipped his shirt over his head, exposing his soft skin and toned abs, then pulled you to him, tone light but face serious. “I never want to have to hear you call me that ever again.”

“Chan,” you laughed, lightly smacking his chest, “what we’re doing right now is staying confined to this room; I’ll still have to call you that in front of everyone else.”

“Fine,” he all but growled, “I will settle for never hearing it in this room.  For now.”  His lips returned to pressing featherlight kisses to your jaw and found your sweet spot below your ear.  A sigh escaped your lips as Chan lifted you up and placed you under him on the bed, your hands roaming over his shoulders and back as he shed the rest of his clothes and removed the final layer separating you from him.  You could feel his hardness against your dripping core and you looked down, holding in a moan when you saw how big he was.

“Ah ah ah,” the prince purred, “I don’t want you to hold anything back tonight.  I have waited so long to have you like this, and I want to hear every sound that falls from your lips.  I want to know how good I make you feel, Y/n.”

Even if you’d wanted to, you couldn't hold back the sinful sound that left you as he brought his mouth to suckle and nip at your breast, his hand reaching down to rub the pads of his first two fingers against your heat.  Slowly, he increased the pace and the pressure as he kissed down your body, bringing his head between your thighs.  You moaned when you felt his tongue lick a long, languid stripe up your core, then brought your hands to tangle in his hair as he stroked small circles against your sensitive bud.  Desperate for him, you pulled his head back up to meet yours, back arching as you whimpered, “Please Chris.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, the feeling of him against your walls far better than you’d ever imagined.  Being this close to him, feeling his cock reach places inside you you hadn’t known could feel this good, the intimacy was almost overwhelming, so you clung to him, reveling in the feeling of being with the man you loved.

“How did I get so lucky?” Chan was whispering, praises falling from his lips.  “Fuck Y/n, you’re so beautiful, an angel, my perfect girl.  Taking me so well, like you were made for me.”

“I was,” you breathed out, “all of me is yours Chris, only yours.”

His thrusts increased then, both of you teetering on the edge of your highs.  You captured his lips in another burning kiss, sealing your love as the ecstasy coursed through you both.  You laid there for a few moments, relishing the weight of his body on yours and the quiet sound of his heartbeat.  Then Chan rose and fetched a cloth to clean you both, your body already starting to succumb to the pleasant exhaustion.

When he returned to the bed you heard his voice whisper one last I love you before you drifted off in his arms.

Runaway  |  Kingdom of Miroh, 28 years ago

The girl had been running for two days.

She’d prepared her knights and her attendant, told them the story she’d fabricated for them to repeat, and paid them handsomely for the trouble she was surely causing them.  Her parents would be frantic, but eventually they would mourn her and move on.  The kingdom would survive without her; in fact, it had to, because she knew nothing would ever make her return, force her to take on a responsibility she never asked for nor wanted.

Only five more miles to the border, she thought.  Then I can start over, be whoever I want to be.

By the time she reached the marker for Gu, she could barely stay upright, having taken as little rations with her as she dared.  She wandered across, hoping some small border town would be close by where she could eat, maybe get some rest.  After another few miles some buildings started to pop up, small cottages and what looked like a market and an inn.  The girl squinted at the prices on the inn’s sign, trying to remember the conversion rate of the currency she’d brought with her.

“Hey!  I saw you come in to town; you look a little lost.  Can I help you find anything?”

The girl realized the voice was talking to her, and turned to see a boy about her age, maybe seventeen, tall with shaggy brown hair, looking at her curiously.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the boy said.  “It’s just… you seem to be having a little trouble reading the sign and I-I’m uhh... pretty good with numbers; I could help you, if you’d like?”

“Oh umm… yes… p-please… thank you.”

The boy walked closer, the girl showing him the money she had so he could count out the equivalent of the price.  “So, is your family visiting from Miroh?”

The girl balked at his perceptiveness.  Despite all her planning, she hadn’t thought about what she would tell anyone when they asked for her story.  She tried to come up with something quickly, stumbling over her words.  “Umm no, m-my parents are… they’re uhh… they died.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry to hear that,” the boy said, looking at her sympathetically, and the girl felt like he really meant it.

“Well, umm, here’s what you’ll need for a night’s stay here,” he continued, handing her back the money.  “If you want I can show you a good place to eat that’s close by; you look like you could use a hearty meal.”

Despite knowing him for all of two minutes, the boy seemed trustworthy.  And he was right, she could definitely use some nourishment.

“That sounds nice,” she answered.

“Great!” the boy said, stepping down from the inn’s doorstep and walking towards the village center, the girl following.  “I’m Minhyuk, by the way.  What’s your name?”

“My name’s Julietta.”

Revelations  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

You awoke, startling for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings until you remembered what had happened the previous night.  Smiling to yourself, you turned in the sheets, expecting to see Chan laying beside you, but you were met with emptiness on his side of the bed.  You frowned, scooting over and feeling the spot still warm from his body.

He must have only just left, you thought.

You glanced over and noticed a small note sitting on his bedside table, letters written in his artful penmanship.  You picked it up, eyes running over the words.

Good morning my love.  How I wished to have you wake up in my arms, but I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.  I’ve gone to speak with my father about something, and when I return, the whole kingdom will be able to hear my name spoken by your beautiful voice. 

A wave of dread washed over your entire body, threatening to pin you to the spot where you sat.

Chan knew his father could be cold, knew he was a callous man who cared for little more than his own self-interest and what he deemed acceptable.  But you knew he’d always believed maybe he could change the king, could open his heart to the same degree Chan and his mother had shared.  You, however, never saw the man through such rose-colored glasses, having been the recipient of his threats and intimidation too many times to believe he could be redeemed.  And your beloved prince was about to find out the true depths of his father’s loathing towards the relationship you shared.

You sprung into action, body moving without thinking as you dressed in last night’s clothes and ran from his chambers, heading to the throne room.  Maybe you could reach him in time, spare him the pain of hearing his father’s rejection.  You’d have to convince him you didn’t want to bring your relationship public, and he’d be hurt, devastated, but it would be nothing compared to the anguish of what he was about to bring on himself.  Or the punishment he was about to unknowingly inflict on you.

Chan was nowhere to be seen in any of the hallways leading to the throne room.  Your feet moved faster, desperately trying to prevent what was about to happen.  But when you burst through the thick oak doors, you saw Chan kneeling at his father’s feet.  Both men looked up to face you, Chan’s expression one of blissful optimism, his father’s one of knowing anticipation.

You were too late.

“Hello, Y/n,” the king said darkly, mouth morphing into a sneer.  “You already know what he’s asked me, don’t you?”

“Your Majesty… please...”

You shuddered at the sound of your own voice, tone betraying your agony, your fear.

“You never told him, did you?” he questioned, the trace of pity in his voice making you all the more uneasy.

“How could I?” you sighed.

The king nodded contentedly, then motioned for the guards on either side of you.  You felt their hands capture your arms, body going all but slack in their hold.  You couldn’t find the strength to fight anymore.

Chan had stood up and was now looking frantically between you and his father.  “What is the meaning of this?!” he asked, tone laced with bewilderment and shock.

“I’m sorry Chris,” you murmured, heart breaking at the look on his face.

“Christopher,” King Bang said, standing and approaching his son, “do not fear.  I will take care of this disobedient whore and then you will be free of her influence.  I should have never let her remain for as long as I did, look what it has done to you, my ingenuous boy.”

You felt it, the moment Chan realized what his father was implying.  His whole body shifted, backing away from Geun as he spoke, voice void of emotion.

“What did you just say?”

For once the king seemed genuinely surprised, eyebrows raising and voice the tiniest bit unsteady as he answered, “I-I mean, certainly that’s the only reason you would ever come to me with this request.  Clearly this woman has convinced you to denounce what I’ve taught you about tradition, about knowing one’s place, through what means I dare not say; but I don’t blame you Chris, this is my fault.”

Chan stopped moving then, having almost reached your side.  His face contorted into an expression of dismay, of grief, as he shouted.

“Are you really so ignorant, so far removed from reality, that you think my actions are a sign of disloyalty?!  Of neglecting my responsibilities?!  Because they are nothing of the sort.  And even if they were, Y/n would not be responsible for convincing me to do anything.  Your outdated principles and misguided sense of your own virtuosity could have done that on their own!  You were blind to a plot happening in your own palace because of your desire to have me bend to your will, but I won’t let you do it anymore.”

He turned, ordering the guards, “Release her, now!”

“You will do no such thing,” the king’s enraged voice rang out.  “Christopher, you will never get my permission for this.”

He turned back to Geun, eyes furious but voice calm.

“I was not asking, father.  I will marry her.  And I am not betraying you, or our kingdom, or our traditions.  And I’m not doing it because she seduced me.  I’m doing this because I love her.  Because she supports me, and cares for me, and knows our people intimately, probably better than I do.  And because, for my whole life, she has been the only person besides Mother who has ever truly loved me for who I am.  So you’ll have to throw me in prison too if you intend to stop me, because I refuse to be here without her.”

“No!” you yelled, straining against your captors, energy rushing back to your body at his words.  “No, Chris please, you have to let me go!  I’m so grateful we had last night; it was the best night of my life and always will be.  I knew the consequences I might face, and getting to tell you how much I love you was worth every one, but you were never supposed to suffer because of me.  I can’t let you do this.”

Your pleas were interrupted by a herald entering the room.

“Your Majesty - “

‘WHAT?!” King Bang whirled on him, outrage blatantly evident on his face.

While the king was distracted, Chan shoved the guards away from you and took your shaking form into his arms, cradling your head against his chest.  “Y/n, you’ve protected me and sacrificed for me my entire life.  Let me be the one who takes care of you now.”

His whispers stopped when you heard the announcement of the herald.

“His Majesty King Peter Soleil of Miroh is here with his wife, Queen Margaery, as well as one of our palace servants, Julietta, Your Majesty.  They are insisting on an audience with you.”

“Your mother?” Chan questioned, meeting your equally confused face with his own.

The king glanced to where the pair of you stood, rolling his eyes obnoxiously.  “Fine, bring them in.  Let these two have their last embrace before I rid us of her presence.”

The herald opened the doors, and there stood your mother, dressed in a beautiful gown you could tell was made for royalty.  She entered, followed closely by the king and queen of Miroh.  You’d seen them a few times over the years at various palace functions.  They seemed like steadfast and benevolent leaders, reflected in their small kingdom’s reputation for nonviolence and generosity.  In fact, the only turmoil you could remember them being involved in was the disappearance of the crown princess, several years before you were even born.  Not much was known about the circumstances of the disappearance, but it was said the king and queen had never given up hope of finding her.

They came to a stop in the middle of the room, the sovereigns flanking your mother.  Looking at the three of them, you couldn’t deny the resemblance of your mother to the elder two people, and a memory stirred in the back of your mind.

“King Peter, Queen Margaery,” King Bang addressed them tersely, “I would say I am pleased to see you but I am at this moment engaged in a personal matter and would like very much to return to it.  If you could please explain why you have one of my palace servants here with you playing dress up, I would appreciate your cooperation.”

“Certainly,” came King Soleil’s placid reply.  “We are here on a personal matter as well, one that Julietta, and indeed Y/n, are involved in.”

Chan’s arms tensed around you, preparing to defend you against any allegation, any harm or threat or danger to your wellbeing.  But, as had happened once before in that very room, no one was prepared for what the Mirohan king said.

“You see, Julietta is our daughter.  Almost thirty years ago, she left our kingdom, because she felt trapped in a life we had not prepared her for.  Her mother and I should have supported her, should have taught her to confide in us, but we were very different people then, and different rulers too.  We would have done what you are attempting to do to your son, forced her to betray her own self to mold to our will.  However, when she left, we saw how wrong we were, and vowed to do better.  Now, Julietta has come back into our lives for the sake of her daughter, our granddaughter, Y/n.”

Every set of eyes in the room was trained on you, your own frozen wide in disbelief at what was happening.  King Bang seemed to be at a loss for words, having fallen back into his seat on the throne.  Your mother left her parents’ side and walked to you, smiling tentatively.  Chan reluctantly released his hold on you as she took your hand and brought you to stand with her away from the others.

“My dear, I know how much of a shock this must be to you, and I am sorry, so very truly sorry for never telling you,” she said quietly.  “But I was ashamed… When I ran away, I did what I thought I needed to do at the time.  Looking back it may have been reckless, irresponsible and selfish even.  But most importantly, it had been my choice.  And I took that from you, the ability to choose what path you wanted in life.  I thought we would be better off away from the life I grew up in, and for a while we were, with your father.  But when he died, I was adrift and had no idea what to do and somehow we ended up back in a palace and at the whim of an arrogant king, but this time without even an inkling of the power I once held.  I thought about returning with you to my parents then, but how could I be sure you wouldn’t resent me for forcing you into the life I had tried so desperately to escape?  I struggled with my choice for years, until eventually I saw that you were happy with your training with the prince, getting to do all the things you used to do with your father that would have been scorned had you been the one in the boy’s position.  But then I saw the signs of your feelings for him, your realization of the insurmountable barriers that would prevent you from being together, the way you resigned yourself to unhappiness.  I knew I could do something about it, but I had to be sure you were ready to accept the responsibilities that would come with having the ability to be with the man you loved.”

You looked up at her, recalling your conversation at the coronation, and she nodded.  “I am sure now.  Which is why I went back to Miroh, back to my parents and the position I despised a lifetime ago.  Because if I can give you the ability to make this one choice, maybe I can make up for all the other mistakes in my life.”

“Mother... “ you started, wanting to tell her you understood her choices, that you didn’t think they were all a mistake, but were quieted by her hand on your cheek.

“I know you are quick to forgive, just like your father, but let me take responsibility for this.”

You looked back at your grandparents.

“They won’t force you to accept,” Julietta said.  “That was my one condition.”

Your head was spinning with the onslaught of new information.  Searching the room, your gaze locked with Chan’s, reading the utter adoration in his eyes that you knew mirrored your own.  You knew his father would never accept your relationship at your current status.  And despite feeling confident you wanted a chance to make an impact as a ruler, you didn’t know everything about what it would mean to take on this responsibility.  But there was one thing you were absolutely certain of.

You turned back to your mother, squeezing her hand.  “Thank you.”

She led you back to the group, your hand linking with Chan’s as you came to stand beside him and your grandparents.

“We are aware of the young people’s affection for each other…” King Soleil began, but King Bang seemed to have recovered himself enough to realize what the other was about to say.

“That girl will NOT marry my son!”

“Geun,” your grandfather warned, “that girl is my granddaughter, a Mirohan princess.  I strongly suggest you watch your tone when you speak about her in front of me, or anywhere for that matter.  Now, it was already quite unreasonable to want to prevent your son from marrying a woman he loves, but it would be wholly irrational of you to deny a match for the prince to the heir apparent to the throne of Miroh, wouldn’t you say?”

You stood up straighter, feeling Chan’s hand tighten around yours.

The king was silent for a while, but finally gave an acquiescent sigh.  “Very well.”

The two of you smiled but kept your composure, bowing to the king and turning to your grandparents.  They pulled you both in for a hug as you thanked them, saying they were eager to get to know their new grandchildren, and your heart skipped a beat at those words.  You didn’t hear anything else after that, your focus entirely mesmerized by Chan who was pulling you towards the door, your pace quickening before breaking into a run as you left the castle, heading for the stables.  You rounded the building first, then felt him reach around your waist as he gathered you in his arms and spun you around, laughing his brilliant laugh and pulling you close to him as he placed you back on the ground by the pond.

“Does this mean I have to call you “Your Highness” now?” he asked, giggling at your stunned face from the use of the term.

You playfully put your hands up to shove him, but he captured them in his own, kissing your knuckles and bringing your palms to rest on his chest.  You could feel his heart beating as you knelt your head to meet his and heard his soft voice ask.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

You had never been happier to say yes.

Epilogue  |  Kingdom of Gu, 1 year later

You were standing in front of the mirror, your mother behind you pinning your hair into an extravagant twist when a joking voice came from the door.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  You turned to see the smiling face of the queen of Lajor.

“Korenna!” you exclaimed, dancing happily in place, too afraid to move while your mother continued her styling as your friend came to sit next to you.

“You look stunning, Y/n, truly.  Chris is going to lose it when he sees you.”

Chris, your mind echoed lovingly.  You’re marrying Chris today.

“And how come I don’t get a hello from my favorite little princess?” you teased.

“Paige is a bit preoccupied practicing her petal tossing abilities with her Uncle Felix,” her sister responded.  “She definitely has the upper hand in technique, but I’m not sure who looked cuter in the flower crown.”

“Speaking of flower crowns,” your mother said, turning you to face her, “Chris left this for you.”

You looked down at her hands where she held a sealed letter, on top of which rested a single wildflower.

Your mother saw the tears prick in your eyes and started to gather up her things, motioning to Korenna.  “Let’s give Y/n a moment before the ceremony while we - Oh! Your Majesty, my apologies, I didn’t see you there.”

You turned to see King Bang milling awkwardly at the entrance of the room.  Putting the gift from Chan down, you ushered your mother and Korenna out then came to sit in front of his father.

The two of you had avoided each other as much as possible over the last year, which hadn’t exactly been hard since you had moved with your mother to Miroh to catch up on all the instruction you’d missed these past twenty-three years.  You’d seen him at the Four Kingdom Competition and at various dinners and balls, but Chan always made it a point to keep you as far away from him as possible.  You weren’t going to complain about it to your fiance, but you’d almost wished he’d let the two of you talk, tension clearly still lingering between you.  And though this visit was unexpected, considering you were going to be family after today, now seemed just as good a time as any.

“What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”

“Actually, Y/n, I-I came here to apologize,” the king said, his voice sounding almost as taken aback as you felt.  “I have spent my whole life avoiding saying that phrase, but I realize now you are one of the few people I feel I really must say it to.”  He took a deep breath before he continued.  “I’m sorry for the death of your father, I’m sorry for my insults and threats over the years, and I’m sorry for trying to keep you and Christopher from being together.  I had no right to try to do that, whether you were noble-born or not.”  He paused, and you could tell it was getting harder for him to keep his voice steady.  “After my wife died… I had this blind rage I felt towards everyone, but especially towards you, and when I finally took the time to analyze it, I realized I had been jealous.  Jealous of your skill and your talent, but mostly jealous of my son’s devotion to you.  This year has shown me that I was wrong to think his love for you would turn him away from me or his responsibilities; in fact, his happiness at being with you has only strengthened our relationship and made him a more present, more thoughtful ruler.  So I came to apologize, and to thank you for bringing the light back to my son’s eyes.”

You were stunned, but grateful, and the king seemed to read that in the expression on your face.  “You don’t need to say anything,” he said, standing up and heading for the door, “I just wanted you to know.”

You stopped him before he could leave, placing a hand on his arm.  “Thank you.”

He nodded and shut the door, leaving you alone.  You turned your attention back to the envelope on the desk and gently opened it, unfolding the paper in one hand and holding the blossom in the other.

Y/n,

Since the beginning, my love for you has grown like the roots of a flower.  Even on this day, we are but tiny buds, only just beginning to sprout.  I look forward to every day we’ll spend in the garden, tending to our love until we reach full bloom.  And just as flowers slowly fade, may we grow old together, enjoying the memories of those sunny days when we used to ride through the meadows we planted.  Know that my love for you will remain long after our petals are reclaimed by the earth, my beautiful wildflower.

Yours forever,

Chris

You held back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, placed the flower in your hair behind your ear with trembling hands, and walked out to meet your mother standing at the entrance to the courtyard.

She took your arm in hers as you made your way to the aisle.  You saw Minho and Felix on the right, both grinning from ear to ear, and Korenna and Paige on the left, the younger’s sparkling dress and tiny braid matching the elder’s.  And in the center you saw Chan, looking to be on the verge of tears, but his blinding smile on full display.  Your mother walked you to him, your gown glinting in the light of the setting sun.  He took your hand in his and held it while the priest recited the hymns and blessed your marriage, pronouncing you husband and wife.

Later, while the celebration was in full swing inside the ballroom, the two of you made your way out to the balcony.  He took you into his arms, both of you swaying to the music floating out on the breeze.

“You look breathtaking tonight,” Chan whispered.

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness,” you responded, wiggling your eyebrows at the term he used to hate, recalling the conversation you’d had the first time you shared a dance on the balcony.

“I know,” he said smiling, catching on to your words.  “I wanted to tell you again.”

You pulled his lips to yours, kissing him before whispering, “We’re married.”

“I know that too,” he responded, the two of you giggling and bringing your foreheads together.  He reached up to tuck your hair that had come loose behind your ear, revealing the flower, and you let the feeling of peace wash over you, knowing you had a lifetime together.

“I love you, Chris.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

{end}