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#i should mention the specific house being worked on is a big two floor one
diegogtratty · 10 months
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break from outdoor work moment
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skoulsons · 1 year
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Gonna talk about the five love languages in regards to Joel and Ellie, and examples of them in the games bc im profusely down bad.
So, we got…
• Words of affirmation. First one that came to mind was in Bill’s town in the optional dialogue before the pickup truck and fighting the infected in the street section. “You’re doing a good job. Figured you should know that.” That’s the first time we hear him express anything like to her in their journey thus far. And the “she did hold her own back there.” Once they’re out and he talks to Bill. It’s not directly to her, but I’ll count it. Though, I don’t think there’s too many because their relationship isn’t super verbal in communicating appreciation? The appreciation is clearly there, but for them to express it directly to each other isn’t too common, but the times it’s there, it’s always special. The times Joel has needed to say “thank you”, but because he’s a dumb old man and can’t just outright say it and has to say “it was either him or me” instead counts, too. Maybe not affirming, necessarily, but a word of thanks, which can go a long way.
• Acts of service. Their whole relationship, if we’re being honest. I think they serve each other by protecting and taking care of each othe r. For the most part, it’s Joel’s fatherly instincts that are there, not wanting her to get hurt. But, what I think goes hand-in-hand with that is his heart in general, especially as their relationship grows. He does it because he wants to. He takes care of her because he wants to. And Ellie doing the same, especially during winter. She gave him everything. All the warmth and majority of food while he was out. She needed him, maybe, but she cares about him. She willingly endured what little food, sleeping on a cold basement floor with no warmth, and fearing what could happen out there alone all for Joel. (I’m not mentioning his end of game decision because I don’t think it necessarily falls under the acts of service definition <3)
• Gift giving. A precious one. The biggest one, obviously, is the tape recording of the space launch in the museum flashback in TLOU2. The amount of time and effort that Joel put in to not only the tape, but that whole trip. Scoping out the entire museum and surrounding area (with the exception of the second building) to make sure it was safe for Ellie, finding the museum in the first place, finding the recording and making sure it still worked, and setting aside a few days for them to get out of Jackson for the trip. Him giving her the guitar is the other big one, of course. Giving her that specific guitar to have and practice on and cleaning it up just for her. Plus, him loving guitar and music as much as he does makes it even better that he’s teaching what he loves so dearly to someone he loves so dearly. And a small one is finding the comics while playing as Joel in TLOU1. It’s gameplay only, but the notion of him picking them up and doing his whole “Ellie! Found another one of them comics you’ve been reading” is very cute.
• Quality time. Sure, they’ve had plenty of quality time the entire year they were on the road together, but I think what sticks out the most is them playing guitar together. We don’t get any scenes of it (sadge :/), but we know they spent a lot of time on it for her to learn as much as she did from him. For her to learn Future Days, Take on Me, and like two or three other songs from what she plays in game means they spent a decent amount of time together. Late night jam sessions on his porch or out in the town. Maybe even in his house on the couch or at the dinner table. Another point for quality time is their movie nights. We know they watched a good amount together (Jurassic Park, a number of cheesy 80s action films that we know both Ellie AND joel like, based on her dialogue with Dina). And we also know that Joel was reading a “idiot’s guide to space(?)” book, hoping that he’d get to have some more time with her to talk about it and bond over something he knew she loved so much.
• Physical touch. Oh look, my favorite to talk about. As much as I have this head canon that they hugged before winter for some reason or another, I also like thinking that that was their first one. Joel taking a moment, despite them being in a burning building and definitely inhaling plenty of smoke, to pull her away and hold her to calm her down and comfort her. Something he definitely missed doing and probably thought he forgot how to do, but it came back like muscle memory. And I like to think that, after that, it was easier. Maybe she slept closer to him on the harder nights out there. Maybe she did bunk with him when they were newcomers in Jackson and she had a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone (maybe this is from reading too many fics of them 😶). Also,, him kissing her head when he found her at Saint Mary’s :’)
Mmm hope this made sense bc I was literally shaking wanting to write this. Dropping this ten minutes before the ep drops, cant wait to lose my mind
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1kook · 3 years
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crunchyroll & rail
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the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !
SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k
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NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….
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Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 
Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  
In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 
To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 
He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”
Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 
Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 
You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 
Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 
“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 
It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 
You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 
And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 
Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 
(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 
Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 
You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 
Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 
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Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 
The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 
You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 
But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  
(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 
The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 
According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 
You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 
You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 
You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 
Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”
For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 
“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 
He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 
“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 
“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 
You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 
The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.
The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 
Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 
And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 
Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 
They go like this: 
Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 
“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 
In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 
“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 
It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 
Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 
The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 
His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 
“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 
He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 
The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 
“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 
“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 
But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 
Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 
Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“
“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 
“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 
“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 
His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 
There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 
Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 
Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 
A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 
You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 
The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 
“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.
Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 
Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”
“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”
It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 
“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.
Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 
“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 
He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 
Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.
“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 
It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 
It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 
You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 
He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 
“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 
Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”
The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.
It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 
Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 
You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 
Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 
Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 
In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 
Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?
“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 
“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 
His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 
It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 
Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 
You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 
With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 
You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 
“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 
He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 
Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 
You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 
It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”
You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 
Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?
Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.
“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.
Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”
“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 
Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 
It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 
Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 
“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“
“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 
You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 
He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”
Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”
You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 
“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.
He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 
“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 
True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 
You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 
It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”
“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 
Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”
Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 
That’s how you know he’s a keeper.
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It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 
“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”
Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”
You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”
A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.
You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.
Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”
Definitely Namjoon.
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The Fundamentals of Gendrya
So I just want to establish the possible foreshadowing Arya and Gendry have that hints at a possible romantic relationship in the future, as well as the romantic undertones present in their story.  I’m not really going to focus on symbolism in this meta (although it will come up a couple of times in a minor way), as that will be a focus for future meta.  This is only meant to establish the fundamental basics.
First I want to say that when I’m talking about the romantic possibility of Gendrya, I mean future Gendrya, as in once Arya is older.  However I will posit and say that because we are viewing this in the world of Westeros (in a pseudo Medieval world that GRRM exaggerated and sensationalized from real Medieval sources as well as rumor) and because GRRM has established he has no problems with placing his younger characters in romantic or sexual situations (see Mercy TWOW) I think it would be remiss to think GRRM would not take Arya and Gendry here if that was his plan all along.  After all, there is plenty of precedent.  
This also leads me to remind everyone that Gendry is not an adult when he meets Arya, and the age gap between the two is one of the least egregious age gaps in the books as most of the age gaps are between adult men in their 20’s and 30’s with 12-16 year old girl’s.  I think a lot of people think of the age gap as Arya being 9 the whole time and Gendry being 16, but this is in fact wrong.  According to the timeline, Arya and Gendry meet at the beginning of 299 AC, right around Arya’s 10th birthday.  In 299 AC Gendry was only 13/14 years old.  He was born in 284 AC and is not the same age as Robb and Jon, like Ned surmises.  Gendry is just big for his age, and it’s highly likely Gendry doesn’t even know how old he is.  When Arya and Gendry separate in ASOS Arya is almost 11 while Gendry is 14/15 years old.  
Regardless, this is fiction, and doesn’t reflect real world morals.  So what I’m getting at is that if anyone disagrees with this meta because of their ages I suggest you don’t read any further.
Foreshadowing
Our first hint of foreshadowing happens in Arya’s very first chapter:
She frowned down at them with dismay and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the other girls.  Sansa's needlework was exquisite.  Everyone said so.  “Sansa's work is as pretty as she is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once.  “She has such fine, delicate hands.”  When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed.  “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.” - Arya I AGOT
This quote is later followed up with:
[...] “I ruined that gown Lady Smallwood gave me, and I don't sew so good.”  She chewed her lip.  “I don't sew very well, I mean.  Septa Mordane used to say I had a blacksmith's hands.”
Gendry hooted.  “Those soft little things,” he called out.  “You couldn't even hold a hammer.” - Arya VII ASOS
In the same book Lem Lemoncloak says this to Gendry:
“You must be a lackwit, boy,” said Lem.  “We're outlaws.  Lowborn scum, most of us, except for his lordship.  Don't think it'll be like Tom's fool songs neither.  You won't be stealing no kisses from a princess, nor riding in no tourneys in stolen armor.  You join us, you'll end with your neck in a noose, or your head mounted up above some castle gate.” - Arya VII ASOS
At this point Arya is indeed a princess, but Lem also makes an obvious reference (to the audience) to the Knight of the Laughing Tree, which I think we can safely say was Lyanna.  The fact that Lyanna is Arya’s literary mirror, tells me we can connect Arya to Lem’s comment, not to mention the inclusion of “princess” just kind of seals the deal.  We also know that Arya is the spitting image of Lyanna and Gendry the spitting image of Robert Baratheon.  I think it’s worth noting also that after Acorn Hall, Lem takes it upon himself to make sure nothing untoward happens between Arya and Gendry (he thought Gendry was taking advantage of Arya after they wrestled) as he starts sleeping in between them, which is seen in Arya V ASOS when they are at The Peach.  Lem saying “Don’t think it’ll be like Tom’s fool songs neither” is also interesting because at Acorn Hall we specifically get Tom singing a love song directed towards Arya and Gendry.
Speaking of Lyanna and Robert being reflections of Arya (in both appearance and personality) and Gendry (in appearance for the most part) this is said in Eddard I AGOT:
We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done."
Now this quote may be referring to Sansa and Joffrey, but I do think it’s foreshadowing for Gendrya and this is just a misdirect.  After all, Joffrey is not Robert Baratheon’s son by blood, but Gendry is, even though he is illegitimate.  To me this also sounds like a promise.  When you think about it, the story truly begins at the Tourney of Harrenhal with the events that broke the betrothal between Lyanna and Robert, so it would be very cyclical for the ending to do what the beginning could not, binding a Stark and a Baratheon together in marriage.
There are also several references about Arya marrying an apprentice/blacksmith:
“[...] Or if it is marriage and children you desire, tell me, and we shall find a husband for you.  Some honest apprentice boy, a rich old man, a seafarer, whatever you desire.” - Arya II AFFC
We also have a comment made by Jaime:
“Not all,” said Jaime.  “Lord Eddard's daughters live.  One has just been wed.  The other...”  Brienne, where are you?  Have you found her?  “...if the gods are good, she'll forget she was a Stark.  She'll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall.” - Jaime I ADWD
Now I know what you are going to say, that Jaime is referring to Sansa possibly marrying a blacksmith or innkeep, but if it weren’t for Jaime’s thought’s in the middle towards Brienne, you’d never guess which Stark daughter he is referring to because Sansa was only just recently married as well.  Also it’s Arya who is associated with a blacksmith (Gendry) and a fat-faced innkeep (Hot Pie).  So while Jaime is referring to Sansa here I think we are meant to actually look at the reality behind this and reverse the foreshadowing back onto Arya, because it wasn’t Arya who was recently wed, that was Sansa.  It’s also Arya who is legitimately trying to forget she was a Stark (Sansa isn’t trying to forget, she is only pretending to be Alayne to ensure her protection) and like I mentioned it’s Arya who had a blacksmith and future employee at an inn as companions for two novels.  So I think it’s a foreshadowing switcheroo.  And I think it’s also worth mentioning that while Jaime sent Brienne out to save Sansa, Brienne spends her whole journey almost exclusively hearing news and following leads about Arya.
There is also a reference in Brienne VII AFFC that makes mention that Arya may marry an apprentice boy:
Gendry was the closest thing to a man grown, but it was Willow shouting all the orders, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants.
If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them.  Brienne wondered whether Willow might be more than she appeared.  The girl was too young and too plain to be Sansa Stark, but she was of the right age to be the younger sister, and even Lady Catelyn had said that Arya lacked her sister's beauty.  Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny...could it be?  Arya Stark's hair was brown, she recalled, but Brienne was not sure about the color of her eyes.  Brown and brown, was that it?  Could it be that she did not die at Saltpans after all?
*
“One day that little girl [Willow] will make some man a frightful wife,” Ser Hyle observed.  “That poor 'prentice boy [Gendry], most like.”
Willow is very obviously a Arya stand-in which makes this specific quote about Arya and Gendry, not Willow and Gendry.
Arya IV ASOS has the strongest case for future romantic Gendrya.  Not only does Gendry follow after Arya and invite her to look at the forge, Gendry opens up to her about his life right before he was uprooted, and does this:
Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.
Gendry is being playful and open with Arya during most of this scene in the forge, teasing her in a manner that verges on flirting, telling her a story about his past, laughing and having fun with Arya.  And then this happens:
Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her.  “You look different now.  Like a proper little girl.”
“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”
“Nice, though.  A nice oak tree.”  He stepped closer, and sniffed at her.  “You even smell nice for a change.”
“You don't.  You stink.”  Arya shoved him back against the anvil and made to run, but Gendry caught her arm.  She stuck a foot between his legs and tripped him, but he yanked her down with him, and they rolled across the floor of the smithy.  He was very strong, but she was quicker.  Every time he tried to hold her still she wiggled free and punched him.  Gendry only laughed at the blows, which made her mad.  He finally caught both her wrists in one hand and started to tickle her with the other, so Arya slammed her knee between his legs, and wrenched free.  Both of them were covered in dirt, and one sleeve was torn on her stupid acorn dress.  “I bet I don't look so nice now,” she shouted.
Gendry compliments Arya’s looks and scent, only for Arya to think he’s teasing her about her appearance due to her intense insecurity when it comes to highborn conformation (Gendry’s laugh when he first saw her didn’t help matters in her insecurity even though Gendry most likely only laughed out of being startled at her transformation).  This insecurity leads Arya into getting angry and starting a wrestling match with him.  This wrestling scene also directly follows Jaime and Brienne’s very sexually charged sword fight, and could also be interpreted as foreshadowing a romantic and potentially sexual relationship in the future, like theirs did, when they are older.  
Now I’m not saying that I think Gendrya is going to go NC-17 in the books, but I do think it’s likely to go PG-13 by the end of ADOS, considering we have precedent that GRRM has no qualms about writing these types of things as I mentioned above, and we know Arya is going to be 12 in TWOW and may be at least 14-15 when the series ends depending on how much GRRM can spread out the timeline in the next two books.  But considering the amount of stuff that needs to happen, I think the next two books will span 2-3 years before the epilogue begins.
Then there is the love song GRRM specifically wrote for Arya.  A song that has only appeared in one chapter, Arya’s chapter:
“My featherbed is deep and soft,
and there I'll lay you down,
I'll dress you all in yellow silk,
and on your head a crown.
For you shall be my lady love,
and I shall be your lord.
I'll always keep you warm and safe,
and guard you with my sword.
“And how she smiled and how she laughed,
the maiden of the tree.
She spun away and said to him,
no featherbed for me.
I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,
and bind my hair with grass,
But you can be my forest love,
and me your forest lass.”
Now we know this song is about them because when Tom O’Sevens is singing it, he winks at Arya, and later Lady Smallwood specifically says to Arya “I have no gowns of leaves”.  The song specifically mentions yellow – a Baratheon color – and depicts the free spirited “Maiden of the Tree” who wants love on her own terms, which sounds like what an older, flowered version of Arya would want if she fell in love.
Romantic Undertones
Arya’s Crush
As she passed the armory, Arya heard the ring of a hammer. A deep orange glow shone through the high windows. She climbed to the roof and peeked down. Gendry was beating out a breastplate. When he worked, nothing existed for him but metal, bellows, fire. The hammer was like part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he made. He's strong, she thought. As he took up the long-handled tongs to dip the breastplate into the quenching trough, Arya slithered through the window and leapt down to the floor beside him. - Arya IX ACOK
It’s very subtle but this paragraph tells us everything.  Arya unintentionally reveals in this quote that she watches Gendry blacksmithing enough to know that the world falls away when he’s in his element.  She watches the play of muscles in his back and notes how strong he is and even attaches poetic language to his work.  Arya has a crush on Gendry.  It’s not acknowledged and it’s likely she doesn’t understand it herself, but this seems to be the truth of it, especially with the way GRRM worded this.  I don’t know how many times I’ve read a romance where the protagonist studies their love interest while watching the “play of muscles” in their back or their arms.  It’s also interesting to note that Arya always mentions specifics about Gendry’s looks and notes details about him:
He blinked at her, startled. Strands of thick black hair, still wet from the bathhouse, fell across his deep blue eyes. "I'd hurt you." - Arya II ACOK
"It's me they want," Arya whispered back. His ear smelled of soap. "You be quiet." - Arya II ACOK
When she spied Gendry, his bare chest was slick with sweat, but the blue eyes under the heavy black hair had the stubborn look she remembered. - Arya VIII ACOK
"She's not alone." Gendry rode out from behind the cottage wall, and behind him Hot Pie, leading her horse. In his chainmail shirt with a sword in his hand, Gendry looked almost a man grown, and dangerous. Hot Pie looked like Hot Pie. - Arya II ASOS
Now most of these I’d normally chalk up to the author just being descriptive, but if that’s the case, why don’t we know more about Hot Pie’s looks, who Arya spent nearly a year with at the same time as Gendry?  Why does she take special time out to describe Gendry so much?  Honestly I think part of it is to keep reminding us that Gendry is a secret Baratheon bastard, but that doesn’t explain the first quote about Arya watching the “play of muscles” in his back and noting how strong he is.  So I think it’s a combination of GRRM wanting to remind the audience that Gendry is a Baratheon and to also subtly show us that Arya has an innocent crush on him, but doesn’t know or acknowledge that this is the case out loud.
Their Mutual Jealousy
Starting after the events of Acorn Hall in Arya IV ASOS, it’s obvious that something shifts in Arya and Gendry’s relationship.  One aspect is that Gendry can no longer ignore that Arya is indeed a highborn girl after seeing her for the first time dressed up as one.  He knows what class differences will mean for their friendship.  And another aspect, is that Gendry acknowledges that he may be romantically interested in Arya, or at least acknowledges the potential for those feelings to emerge in time.  And because of this, combined with their class differences, Gendry knows that if he follows Arya to Riverrun where her mother and brother are, he would end up watching Arya grow into someone he could romantically love, only for her to be torn away from him due to an arranged marriage.  Both of these aspects play a factor in why we see Gendry become more outwardly scathing towards highborns in the chapters following this and why his behavior seems to become one rife with jealousy.
In Arya V ASOS the Brotherhood Without Banners travel to The Peach and both of the above aspects I spoke of are present in this chapter:
"You don't even know what a brothel is."
"I do so," she insisted. "It's like an inn, with girls."
He was turning red again. "What are you doing here, then?" he demanded. "A brothel's no fit place for no bloody highborn lady, everybody knows that."
And when Gendry protects Arya from a pervert by saying that she’s his sister, this is what goes down:
"Why did you say that?" Arya hopped to her feet. "You're not my brother."
"That's right," he said angrily. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."
Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. "That's not the way I meant it."
"Yes it is." He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. "Go away. I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her."
Arya doesn’t really understand the intentions of the pervert, despite knowing of sex, and is confused on why Gendry would say that he’s her brother, but when she asks him, he takes it the wrong way since he is already so sensitive about their class differences at this point in their story.  That last paragraph is what makes this exchange really interesting though.  Why would Gendry say this, when it’s already made clear and established in this chapter that Gendry has no intentions of sleeping with any of the girls, even when it’s offered to him for free?  He is very obviously lying to try to get a rise out of Arya and the only way this makes sense is if we put it under a romantic lens.
Then we have this:
Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that's all he is. He could ring all the bells he wanted, it was nothing to her.
Now considering Arya’s defense mechanism (the mechanism that has her calling things or people stupid when she’s hurt or feeling inadequate by them to try to make the pain and hurt not seem so severe) the fact that she calls Gendry a “stupid bullheaded bastard boy” and proclaims Gendry ringing the bells of any girl was “nothing to her” tells us that it matters to her and that she’s upset.  This is further reiterated in Arya VIII ASOS:
Arya wished she had another crabapple to bounce off his face. "My father had honor," she said angrily. "And we weren't talking to you anyway. Why don't you go back to Stoney Sept and ring that girl's stupid bells?"
So here we have Arya mention this three chapters later, likely weeks if not months later.  If Arya didn’t care about Gendry ringing “all the bells he wanted” then why is she still so hurt and jealous?  She’s obviously been stewing about this for a while.
In this same chapter we also see gems from Gendry that clearly proclaim that he’s still plagued about his class differences to Arya.  It also clearly shows that Gendry is jealous of Edric Dayne once Arya befriends him, especially since she befriended someone highborn, like her, who just so happens to be a boy who we know has nearly the same coloring as Rhaegar Targaryen, which evokes the history repeating motif that is present in Arya’s arc of the Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert love triangle.
"You have a knife," Gendry suggested. "If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head."
He doesn't like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey. - Arya VIII ASOS
And
"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall."
Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?"
"The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite. 
Gendry continues to encapsulate “ours is the fury” during Arya’s whole exchange with Edric Dayne.
I do want to add that I know Gendry’s class issues have always been there, and it’s definitely been made even more apparent to him during the War of the Five Kings during his time in the wartorn Riverlands with Arya, so it’s not exactly that far-fetched that Gendry may become even more sensitive and/or bitter about it.  However, this extremity of his behavior only happened after Acorn Hall where he saw Arya looking like the highborn girl she is.  And while I do believe part of Gendry’s increase of bitterness about their class differences does have to do with potential romantic feelings, I also think it has to do with Gendry also coming to terms with the fact that Arya’s family is also directly responsible for the carnage they have seen and experienced (even though he doesn’t blame Arya, as she seems to be one of Gendry’s exceptions when it comes to his dislike of the nobility).  If it weren’t for the blatant flirting on his behalf in the forge at Acorn Hall and the jealousy, I would honestly chalk it up to Gendry trying to reconcile his own trauma and anger regarding highborns, including Arya’s family’s sins, but alas, that is not completely the case.
Post Separation
When Arya is kidnapped by the Hound and witnesses the Red Wedding, Arya contemplates where she may go and this crosses her thoughts in a very romanticized light:
She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs.
But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. - Arya XII ASOS
The fact that Arya follows this thought up with “that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream” tells us specifically what type of fantasy this is.  Arya isn’t fantasizing about an adventure, she’s fantasizing about love and romance, considering those are the types of flights of fancy Sansa always loses herself in.  Now Arya isn’t outright rejecting the possibility of romance here, because there is more to that second paragraph:
But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. Hot Pie and Gendry had left her just as soon as they could, and Lord Beric and the outlaws only wanted to ransom her, just like the Hound. None of them wanted her around. They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf at all.
She rejects the possibility because she remembers that Hot Pie and Gendry abandoned her as soon as they could, and that all the Brotherhood did was use her, according to her perspective on the matter.  And her perspective is entirely skewed because of her abandonment and low self-esteem issues, as well as not fully understanding the class issues as she honestly didn’t think that bringing Hot Pie and Gendry to Riverrun and Winterfell would cause any issues with their friendships, which is understandable for a kid to think.  Especially one that hadn’t been in the highborn world for the past year and a half.  In fact, Medieval children in the real world and in the books, weren’t reprimanded for playing together regardless of class, usually the highborn children played with the children of those who worked and lived within the castle walls, from other lords children to stewards children to the helps children.  It’s just something children did until they reached a certain age where it just wasn’t allowed anymore.  So it’s only natural for this not to really factor into Arya’s plans.
When Arya is about to walk into the House of Black and White, Arya comforts her fear with a memory of Gendry:
Suddenly she was somewhere else . . . back in Harrenhal with Gendry [...] - Arya I AFFC
Which indicates that Gendry is still very much on her mind at this point.  I think it really says something as well that Arya takes comfort from a memory at Harrenhal of all places.  I think this indicates how much comfort she took from their friendship.  I also think she doesn’t think about Gendry with the Brotherhood to take her comfort because while ASOS has the most romantic foreshadowing for them and the two shared some nice moments, it was also the start of them truly fracturing, or so her unreliable narration interpreted it as.  After all, she actually thought that Gendry was making fun of her looks at Acorn Hall, and she thought Gendry didn’t want to be her friend anymore as he “abandoned her” for the Brotherhood.  So while Harrenhal was awful and they had their disagreements there, Arya still felt reassured with his companionship and likely found it uncomplicated in comparison to her other problems at the time.
*
When we next see Gendry in Brienne VII AFFC we see a drastically different Gendry.  While Gendry has always been guarded and sullen with a chip on his shoulder, with little love for the nobility, this change is drastic enough where it’s unsettling to read at first.  Not only is Gendry just flat out rude in a very mean way but he is filled with rage.  Gendry joined the Brotherhood because he liked how they handled justice, but under Lady Stoneheart there is no justice and he doesn’t seem to mind.  His beliefs have shifted as well.
And though his eyes had been that same deep blue, Lord Renly's eyes had always been warm and welcoming, full of laughter, whereas this boy's eyes brimmed with anger and suspicion.
Septon Meribald asked if he might lead the children in a grace, ignoring the small girl crawling naked across the table. "Aye," said Willow, snatching up the crawler before she reached the porridge. So they bowed their heads together and thanked the Father and the Mother for their bounty . . . all but the black-haired boy from the forge, who crossed his arms against his chest and sat glowering as the others prayed. Brienne was not the only one to notice. When the prayer was done Septon Meribald looked across the table, and said, "Do you have no love for the gods, son?"
"Not for your gods." Gendry stood abruptly. "I have work to do." He stalked out without a bite of food.
Gendry was at his forge, bare-chested beneath his leather apron. He was beating on a sword as if he wished it were a foe [...]
What would a knight be doing working at a smithy? "You have black hair and blue eyes, and you were born in the shadow of the Red Keep. Has no one ever remarked upon your face?"
"What's wrong with my face? It's not as ugly as yours."
Lord Renly was ahead of her, her sweet smiling king. He was leading her horse through the trees. Brienne called out to tell him how much she loved him, but when he turned to scowl at her, she saw that he was not Renly after all. Renly never scowled. He always had a smile for me, she thought . . . except . . .
While some people chalk up Gendry’s behavior as a result of trauma about what he experienced in the Riverlands, and I don’t deny that is a factor, I don’t believe it’s the only factor because we didn’t see Gendry like this post Harrenhal or even with the Brotherhood in ASOS.  Yes he embodied “ours is the fury” at times and was jealous and bitter, and rude at times as well, but he wasn’t flat out cruel to people, nor filled with rage and vengeance.  The Gendry before Arya was taken would never have led Brienne to Lady Stoneheart for the slaughter after she tried to save everyone in that Inn against Rorge and Biter and co.  We can also see another difference in Gendry:
Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.
Gendry saw it too. "Him."
While there is no emphasis on the “him” when Gendry sees the Hound’s helm, it’s an abrupt and emotionless statement.  It’s one word without emphasis but it conveys a lot.  Gendry recognizes the Hound’s helm and it’s apparent he’s not happy, thinking that it was indeed the Hound for a minute.  And while I’m trying to avoid discussing symbolism, I just can’t ignore how the lightning that cracked in the south could also be symbolic of Gendry’s true mood.  He is, after all, a bastard Baratheon, connected to the storm, the fury - thunder and lightning - as well as sharing a connection to the god, Thor in our mythology.  This lightning could symbolically be linked to Gendry’s anger and vengeance.  So why does Gendry act like this when he sees who he thinks is the Hound again?  He had no issue with the Hound during his trial by combat, so what changed?  The Hound kidnapped Arya.  And while he knows Arya didn’t die at the Red Wedding, he and the Brotherhood aren’t entirely sure if the Hound sold Arya to the Lannister’s and if she is now Arya Bolton.  So it makes complete sense why he would have issues with the Hound.  In fact I think a lot of this behavior we are seeing from Gendry is the direct result of the Hound kidnapping Arya and not knowing if she’s dead or being brutally raped and tortured in the North.
Why do I think this?  Because this behavior began between Arya being kidnapped in ASOS and Brienne VII AFFC.  Only a few to a handful of months have passed since then.  This, I believe, is the inciting incident.  Another reason why I believe Arya is the reason is because of what he is doing.  He is staying at the Crossroads Inn, one of the last known places Arya was sighted, and he’s helping take care of orphaned children.  Arya took in strays as well and cared for them, like Weasel.  And considering how Gendry in ACOK wanted to leave Weasel and Hot Pie and Lommy behind, it’s interesting to see that he’s helping by taking in strays himself now, as if he thinks he may be able to atone for not saving Arya.  Another reason is because the Brotherhood is actively searching for Arya as well.  She is ever present on their minds.  So yes, I believe part of Gendry’s change has to do with losing Arya, which goes to show how much he really cared about her.  Not to mention (a tiny bit more symbolism, oopsie!), Gendry’s stay at the inn, waiting for Arya to return (I believe Gendry and the BWB are hoping that Arya is alive and will return to the inn) is a romantic aspect to the mythology of Weyland the Smith and his Swan Maiden/Valkyrie, and the aspect about the Brotherhood + Gendry searching the realm for Arya is also a romantic Cinderella motif, hence why I feel Gendry’s behavior here is supposed to have romantic subtext.
*
Extra:  Another interesting aspect that I think foreshadows this future relationship is the meaning of Gendry’s name.  Gendry is a nickname type of surname for a person who has inherited his family estates from his father-in-law, deriving its origin from the Old French word “gendre,” which meant “son-in-law.”  And as we know if Arya and Gendry married when they were older, Arya wouldn’t be taking his name, but he hers, due to her higher status.  So by marrying into the Stark family, he would be inheriting from his father-in-law Ned so to speak, even if it’s just inheriting the surname.
So this is everything I’ve compiled so far about Gendrya, that relies on just their foreshadowing and romantic undertones in the texts we have available but I’m positive I’ll be adding more to this list once TWOW officially releases.  However, I still have a lot more to share that focuses on their symbolism and motifs throughout the story, so I’m definitely not done making Gendrya meta, far from it and I can’t wait to share it with you all!  
And if anyone is interested in Arya’s and by extension Gendrya’s Cinderella motifs, you can find it at this link:  A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes.
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griffintail · 3 years
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A Day in the Life (Lost Ones)
Summary: A day with the new parents and how some of their friends reaction to their new bit of joy. 
Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader
Previous | Next
Warnings : (In Phil’s Specifically) Death, Violence. (Generally) Swearing
A/N: Just so you know (F/L) means First Letter of your first name. Hope you guys enjoy! ♥
Tommy
        Tommy didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.
        Tubbo was even more clueless.
        When Tommy first came onto Tubbo’s doorstep frantically talking about being a father with a crying baby, Tubbo was in a state of great concern for his best friend. Tubbo knew Tommy as a scammer and a very…bold individual, to put it nicely. He did not think his friend had what it took to be any sort of fatherly figure. He was just too young and he was too…outgoing.
        The first day, the pair worked hard to figure out how to make the infant stop crying. They found out she just needed food and a diaper change. Tommy had groaned in relief, sitting on Tubbo’s floor as he held the baby feeding her the milk. From there, Tubbo questioned where he even found a child.
        “She was abandoned in a basket, in a tree. I decided to be a big man about it and take her in.”
        “Are you crazy? Tommy, you didn’t even know her gender until two minutes ago.”
        “Shut up.” Tommy huffed looking at his friend as he stopped giving (Y/N) milk for the moment. “I can figure it out, I’m still new to this Tubbo.”
        “I think maybe we should give her to one of the other guys. We don’t know what to do, we just ran around my house for five minutes trying to make her stop crying for god’s sake.”
        “I’ll figure it out! Even without your help.” Tommy looked back down at the infant, continuing to feed her.
        So, Tubbo went along with it. Tommy was stubborn and to make sure the baby didn’t get hurt, Tubbo said he’d help his friend. To be fair, they didn’t have to do much, it was just a lot of work to do the few things and barely any time to do the same adventures they use to do.
        Tommy was determined to do most of it on his own, only going to Tubbo when he was desperate for help. Which were a few times a week. He got better and better though, learning what (Y/N) needed and when.
        Tommy had managed to make a crib all on his own (with a couple of tries) and he discovered, (Y/N) liked her crib at the end of his bed. She just liked being close to Tommy often and he actually didn’t mind. He was proud to show off his baby.
        When he had shown her off to the others, they had all been in various bits of shock. Of course, when he first introduced her, the first thing he shouted was always;
        “I’m a father now bitch! Meet (Y/N)!”
        As he would, (Y/N) would giggle and babble, his excited energy rubbing off on her. After their various bits of shock (and Bad telling him to watch his language even more now that there was a baby), they would indeed think (Y/N) was cute but give him the same advice as Tubbo. Give her to an adult.
        “None of them! None of them think I can take care of you.” Tommy huffed as (Y/N) finished her milk for the hour. “Isn’t that ridiculous?”
        Tommy did struggle often. He didn’t get as much sleep as he once did, he stayed inside with (Y/N) more. It was a big change, but he was taking it seriously despite all his jokes. Just, no one could see it because they only saw Tommy as a child.
        “Well, they’re all idiots. I know I have this.” Tommy told the infant as he sat back in bed, holding her. “Right Little (F/L)?”
        (Y/N) squirmed slightly, babbling and Tommy smiled.
        “Right! It’s that time.” He grinned as he stood up, going into his chests next to his jukebox.
        As he pulled out one of his discs, Tubbo knocked on the door as he came in.
        “Hey, am I interrupting?” He asked.
        “No, you’re actually in time Big T!” Tommy said as he put the red labeled disc on.
        “For what?” Tubbo questioned confused as Tommy sat down.
        The music started to play and (Y/N) relaxed in Tommy’s arms. Tommy smiled softly, gently rocking her in his arms as he hummed along to the music. Tubbo was staring in amazement from behind Tommy’s seat.
        “Do you…do you do this often?”
        “Of course.” Tommy grinned at his best friend. “She’s got to learn great music. And look, she loves it so much she falls asleep.”
        He was correct as when Tubbo looked, (Y/N) was giving a tiny yawn as she nuzzled into Tommy.
        “Every day after lunch, I play the disc I got when I found her and she takes a nap.” Tommy quieted down; startling Tubbo as Tommy never quieted down. “I want to find more to let her hear more.”
        Tommy put her down in her crib once she was fully asleep, motioning to the door. They both left as the music kept playing.
        “We should go get more discs tomorrow.” Tommy declared, keeping his voice level as he went through his chests. “(Y/N) needs to hear them all and I want to have them all.”
        “You…do that every day?” Tubbo said, still caught up on Tommy’s gentleness.
        Tommy rolled his eyes. “Of course, I do. (Y/N) likes it and I like it so that’s our routine Tubbo. Sometimes it takes a while though and I have to move around the room.”
        He didn’t mention that he danced to the music with her though, laughing with her as she would giggle, slightly embarrassed about the cute routine.
        “So, are we going to go out tomorrow and get some discs or not?” Tommy grinned at his friend.
        Tubbo stood there, thinking over what he had just seen. He thought about how he was actually wrong about Tommy. His best friend really cared about the girl; his own little girl. Tommy had acted drastically different than what he usually did to make sure she was well and happy. The taller boy was actually taking this very seriously and Tubbo couldn’t help but be proud of his friend.
        “Tubbo.” Tommy snapped his fingers, looking at him disapprovingly.
        “Oh, yeah. Let’s get some discs tomorrow. It’s been forever since we’ve gone on an adventure.” Tubbo smiled.
        He thought Tommy could do this whole dad thing right.
        …
        Then he slightly regretted his words in the morning when Tommy showed up with the little girl and his adventuring gear.
        “We are not taking (Y/N). It’s dangerous Tommy!” Tubbo protested.
        “Nothing will happen to her; I wouldn’t let it. Neither would you. And try and say no to this face.” Tommy showed her off, grinning. “Come on now Uncle Tubbo.”
        Tubbo paused, getting slightly giddy. “Uncle Tubbo?”
        “Of course! Now! Let’s go get some discs!” Tommy took lead.
        “…Wait! You distracted me!” Tubbo called exasperated as he followed his best friend.
        (Y/N) giggled as Tommy grinned wider. Tommy was stubborn but in the case of being a father, it was a good thing as it meant his baby would grow up healthy and happy and he could care less about what others would say.
          Wilbur
        L’Manberg didn’t have many secrets but it had one well-guarded one. That would be the simple fact that (Y/N) existed.
        After the first night with the new baby, Wilbur had gathered all the men inside the van.
        “Time to greet the people little one.” He smiled as he heard the commotion of Tommy trying to command the others.
        Coming out, he put on a serious face as everyone went quiet. Of course, Eret and Fundy already knew. The teenager had his arms crossed, looking away from his father and new sister, as Eret gave a small smile. The other two of L’Manberg…
        “Did you fuck another fish?!” Tommy shouted in exasperation to his brother.
        Fundy gave Tommy an offended glare as (Y/N) squirmed at the sudden loud noise.
        “Tommy, quiet down now,” Wilbur told him as he gently rocked the little girl, Tubbo awing at how adorable she was. “Eret found her left outside the walls last night. I’m taking her in as she was obviously abandoned. So, meet the first woman of L’Manberg, (Y/N).”
        “(Y/N) is a wonderful name.” Eret smiled a bit wider.
        ��She’s so cute and small,” Tubbo said, taking a step closer to get a better look at her.
        Tommy huffed, already bored as Fundy simply stayed quiet.
        “That being said, we are in the middle of a war.”
        The weight of everything came back to rest on their shoulders as everyone with a smile stopped holding one. It was a dangerous time for all of them, no one able to leave the walls without a friend. Walls that were supposed to mean their freedom.
        “That’s why no one must know (Y/N) exists. She must be a secret from all of the Dream SMP. They’ve shown how ruthless they can be and I don’t want to think about what they’d do if they knew about her. So, beyond these walls, (Y/N) doesn’t exist.”
        Everyone gave a nod at the same time as (Y/N) had started to play with the ruffles on Wilbur’s uniform. He smiled gently as her as he took her hand, letting her play with his finger instead before looking dead serious at his men again.
        “I can’t have just a nod. I need you to be verbal. This will not be taken lightly.”
        Tommy spoke first as he gave a salute. “You have my word, Wilbur!”
        Wilbur cracked a small smile; he could always rely on his little brother. “Good, now quiet down a bit.”
        From there, it was a chorus of promises and she was their biggest secret that united them. Not even a traitor would dare breath word of her place in their walls.
        The men could see a difference in their leader every day since then.
        He left the van more often, actually going to his own home in the walls. Daily, everyone would see him carrying (Y/N) with him in her own little uniform he made on a walk within the walls. He sang more often like he used to before the declaration of war was made in order to soothe the little girl or simply to make her smile. There was a reason for him to relax and be soft and everyone was rather glad after all the weight he had been forced to hold.
        Wilbur also saw the change in his men as the days went on.
        Tubbo found joy with such an adorable new addition. He would sometimes join Wilbur on his daily walks within the walls to have a chance to hold the small girl. The young boy loved to also give her little gifts, usually toys he thought she’d like. He was very excited when Wilbur told him that she slept with a bee plushie he had gotten her.
        Tommy was curious about her. Such a small thing, he was certain he was way bigger than her when he was that young. Wilbur let him hold her on the occasion if Tommy asked, but wouldn’t wonder if Tommy was holding her. He had faith in his little brother, but his eccentric energy just put Wilbur a little on edge. Often, Tommy would brag to the little girl that he’d be the coolest uncle and teach her many swear words when she got older, much to Wilbur’s dismay.
        Eret did like the little girl, he really did as she was such a precious little thing, but he tried not to put too much attachment to her. He had begun…he had begun a different path and he didn’t want to also betray the little girl. And, the more separation he felt from her, the easier it was to lie about her existence. Though, there was the occasion he would do the same as Tubbo and gave her a toy or two, unable to help it as it put a smile on his face.
        Fundy was different. He had been an only child for most of his life and now he had a little sister? It was only natural that he was jealous and sulked at all the attention she got from their father. Their father did try to include Fundy though; inviting every day on their walks, offering to let her feed instead, asking to play his piano while Wilbur sang. Unfortunately, Fundy wanted nothing to do with his little sister, often saying he hated her, which repeatedly broke Wilbur’s heart but he had faith; he’d change his son’s mind.
        “I’m trying to have a peace talk with Dream today,” Wilbur told Fundy as he shrugged on his jacket while Fundy was sitting in the front seat of the van.
        “Ok, and?” Fundy looked up at him.
        “I’m taking Tubbo and Eret, Tommy’s staying guard and you.” Wilbur handed him a piece of paper. “And you are taking care of your sister.”
        “What?! What the hell?” Fundy exclaimed, jumping up.
        Wilbur put the paper in Fundy’s hand. “I have to go and try and make peace. I have faith in you son. (Y/N) would love to spend time with you anyways. Take good care of her alright? I don’t trust Tommy to watch her for so long but if you really need help, get him.”
        “What…Why do I have to watch the brat?”
        Wilbur gave him a stern look. “Fundy, she is your little sister. She is a part of our family. And family takes care of each other. Now, I want you to be nice to her and take care of her. Understood?”
        Fundy clenched his jaw, shoving his hands in pockets. “Yeah, yeah.”
        “Good.” Wilbur smiled at him now. “She’s still sleeping in my room. That paper is what she needs and when. You can do anything with her in-between. I’ll see you in a few hours my son.”
         Wilbur left; his heart heavy as this was the first time he’d leave (Y/N) alone but hope helping it float as he hoped Fundy could love his sister as Wilbur loved her.
        Fundy went into his father’s bedroom and saw the little girl already waking up slightly. He gave a heavy sigh as he picked her up carefully, holding her close.
        “I hate you.” He muttered as she looked up at him.
        The little girl giggled and he lowered his head. She gave pet to his face to feel the soft fur.
        “I hate you’re too fucking adorable to hate.” He huffed. “Just don’t tell dad. Now, come on dipshit, time to eat.”
        Fundy was jealous, yes. But he could never actually hate his adorable little sister. He’d keep her safe and make her happy too.
        Wilbur got back later than he expected as Dream and his goons had chased their peaceful band like sport but they managed out relatively unscathed. The moon was already up and Wilbur was worried as he hadn’t written instructions for this long in the night for Fundy. After Tommy reported no incidents along the walls, Wilbur rushed home but froze, his heart-melting. In the living room, there was a long finished playing record on the jukebox and on the couch, Fundy laid with his arm over (Y/N) securely as she laid on his chest, both of them asleep.
        “Thank you, my little champion,” Wilbur muttered with a smile, gently picking (Y/N) up before putting a blanket over Fundy. “I’m proud of you.”
        Wilbur held (Y/N) close to him as he walked to his bedroom.
        “And you, my little star, a day won’t go by where you won’t be loved. You’re our little star of hope in L’Manberg. You remind everyone what we fight for and you bring everyone smiles. We will bring peace, just so you can see how bright you shine my little star.” He kissed her forehead before putting her in her crib. “Sleep well love.”
          Philza
        Walking took longer than flying but it was definitely safer for his new little angel. He had tried to find her parents, asking around with the survivors but they weren’t there. So, Phil took her with him to meet his sons. When he started this journey, of the list of things he’d thought would happen, he didn’t think he’d gain a new child. Yet, there she slept peacefully in the sash Phil had made to carry her and keep her warm rather than carrying her in his arms the entire walk.
        She most certainly quieter than most of his other children had been when they were this small, which Phil did not mind one bit. When she was awake, he would talk to her to fill her world though. He’d tell her about her new brothers and how he was sure they’d all love her in their own way.
        “Techno will take a little convincing, he has a thing about orphans.” Phil scrunched up his nose. “But he’ll learn to you like you (Y/N).”
        He hadn’t been able to find a name either for the new baby so he gave her one on his own.
        Finally, after days of travel, Phil reached a crest of a hill and was able to see a beautiful town laid before him. From the looks of some decorations, they had some sort of festival recently. The worrying part was the people in armor down below, but, a large portion of them were celebrating. Phil scanned them over then he grew a large smile. Wilbur was patting Tommy’s shoulder as the younger boy was screaming with one of those celebrating, Techno to the side smirking.
        His sons had managed to figure it all out.
        “Looks like we were a little late angel. Your brothers can be smart when they choose to be.” He chuckled. “We’ll wait here and let them have their moment of victory.”
        He sat on the edge of the hill, giving (Y/N) her afternoon milk as he watched the crowd below and listened to the start of celebratory speeches. As he quickly burped the infant, he frowned as Wilbur left his seat in the crowd, walking away as Tubbo was getting on stage.
        “Let’s go see what he’s up to.” He muttered to the little girl, putting her in his sash securely before carefully flying over.
        He landed as Wilbur walked into a room in a hill behind the stage. His eyes went wide as he remembered one of Tommy’s letters.
        Will keeps saying if he can’t have L’Manberg, no one can. He made a room rigged to TNT under our nation. I’m hoping to talk him down but I don’t know if I can.
        “Shit.” Phil sprinted over, walking into the room after his son.
        Inside were mad scribblings as Wilbur stood with his hand on the wall next to a button.
        “What are you doing?” Phil asked him.
        Wilbur jumped, whirling around to see his father standing there, wearing a sash, unable to see the child it was holding.
        “Phil…?”
        “What are you doing?” Phil repeated.
        Wilbur ran his hands through his hair as he looked back at the button then his father.
        “How’d you…do you know what this is?” He motioned to the room around him.
        “I do.” Phil nodded, stepping carefully forward.
        “Have heard the songs on the walls?” Wilbur asked in turn as he ran his hand over a few of the words. “I was just saying to myself, there was a special place where men can go, but there’s not anymore! It’s not…” Wilbur sighed as he looked back at the button.
        “It is there,” Phil told him as he put a hand on the side of the child to calm her down as she squirmed. “You just, you’ve just won it back.”
        “Phil! I’m always so close to pressing this button, Phil! I’ve been—I’ve been here like seven or eight times I’ve been here.” Wilbur threw up his arms as Phil stood his ground when he saw the crazed look in his son’s eyes.
        The little girl tried to give an uncomfortable babble at the loud shouting but Wilbur talked over her, having yet to notice the extra body in the room. In comfort, Phil put a hand over one of her ears as he pressed her close to him.
        “Phil I-I’ve been here so many times.” Outside of the room, they all could hear the sound of fireworks going off. “They’re fighting. They’re fighting.”
        “And you want to just blow it all up?” Phil questioned.
        “I do I think I—”
        “You fought so hard to get this land back.” Phil tried to discourage one of his older sons. “So hard.”
        “I don’t even, I don’t even know if works anymore Phil,” Wilbur said, his hand hovering over the button, making Phil take a step forward. “I don’t even know if the button works I could, I could press it and might not…”
        Wilbur looked back, grinning like a mad man and Phil squeezed the young girl lightly.
        “Do you really want to take that risk? Wilbur…” He went to continue to say, hoping to bring up his new little sister to discourage the man but Wilbur looked away, staring at the button.
        “There was a saying Phil, by a traitor. It was never meant to be.” Wilbur pressed the button, grinning at Phil as the hiss went off.
        “No!” Phil shouted, quickly pulling his son close as he covered the three of them his wings as the blast went off.
        He winced as the blast and the heat singed and damaged his feathers but he didn’t move as he held his two children close. He wouldn’t let them get harmed.
        The sound of white noise rang in their ears as the explosions slowly stopped. Phil raised his wings slightly to look in horror at the destruction before them. Outside their half-destroyed room, Phil slowly started to hear the voices crying with terror at what they just witnessed as Wilbur stood before the hole holding his arms out as he grinned.
        “My L’Manberg Phil! My unfinished symphony forever unfinished! If I can’t have this no one can Phil!”
        “Oh my god.” Phil breathed, the ringing dying down enough for him to be startled at the cries closest to him.
        (Y/N) screamed out cries in the aftermath of the loud explosions and shouting, her own ears ringing. Phil held her close, trying to calm her down despite his horror and disappointment. Wilbur finally heard the cries himself and looked over to finally notice the little girl. For a moment, he could see through his madness.
        “Who’s…who’s this?” Wilbur muttered.
        “She’s (Y/N),” Phil told him as he put his forehead on the little girl’s. “I came to help you and found her. I brought her to show her what her new brothers made. What great work you’ve done.”
        “What great…” Wilbur looked over at what he had done.
        Behind him, he could hear the cries of his new tiny sister he hadn’t been aware he had. Phil had brought her to show her a place of peace and beauty, but instead, Wilbur showed her terror and destruction. Across the explosion, he could see Tommy’s horror-struck face at the sight of their once great nation gone. This was his fault…
        He pulled his sword, holding the handle to Will. “Kill me, Phil.”
        “What?!” Phil looked at his son shocked, still clutching onto the crying girl.
        “Stab me with the sword. Murder me now. Kill me!” Will demanded as he motioned to the crowd. “Look, they all want you to!”
        Phil was stood in shock as he held a crying child in one arm while looking over at the crowd of terrified and horror-filled faces.
        “Kill me, Phil!” Wilbur shouted.
        “I—You’re my son!” Phil yelled. “No matter what you do—I can’t—”
        “Phil!” Wilbur shouted, shoving the sword handle into his hand. “This isn’t—! Look! Look! How much work went into this and it’s gone! Do it.”
        Phil looked from his son to the crowd, to the child in his arms. He couldn’t…why’d…(Y/N) should get a chance to meet her own brother! L’Manberg had ruined his son. He had gone mad…
        “I’m sorry.” He whispered under his breath before plunging the sword.
        Tears filled Phil’s eyes as he let go of the sword and held his son. (Y/N)’s wails only got louder and Phil cried with her.
        “I’m sorry, I’m sorry both of you.” He muttered
        He wished everything could be different…
        …
        Phil sat by the fire with the L’Manberg citizens, one of his hands shaking slightly as the other gently rocked the no longer crying child.
        Tommy had been speechless since the betrayal he received from both of his brothers, but looking up at his father across from him, he stood and spoke.
        “Who’s she?” He asked.
        Phil looked at him as the others looked over as well.
        “This is your new little sister (Y/N). I found her when the village I was staying at was raided and I saved her. Would you like to hold her?”
        Tommy came over and sat in front of his father. Phil helped him before letting his now second youngest hold her on his own. Tommy’s face had held no emotion after everything today but now it softened as the little girl met his eyes. He hugged her lightly as Phil held onto his shaking hand with his other to stop it.
        “I wish you could have seen what L’Manberg looked like (Y/N),” Tommy mumbled to her. “Wilbur and Techno betrayed me but I promise. I won’t betray you. I never will do that to you.”
        Phil looked at his son sadly as Tommy put his forehead on hers softly. At least Phil knew that she’d be well-loved by the brother she got to meet properly.
        From there, the next few days were made for rebuilding. Phil helped the group as best he could but he had to rest to let his wings heal and he also had to take care of his little angel. Tommy made sure the others built Phil one of the first houses so his sister could be in a proper bed.
        It warmed Phil’s heart that Tommy cared so much about his new little sister. Tommy would visit the pair occasionally just to see her, Phil giving him a little bit of trust to take care of her. Of course, Tommy used that trust to be his usual self and brag about how cute his little sister was to anyone that would listen to the boy’s antics. Though many couldn’t deny the boy, she was a very cute little girl and often brought smiles to other’s faces.
        Phil was glad that his quiet little girl could bring joy to people that had been through so much. He just wished that she had had a chance to bring smiles to those that didn’t walk beside them any more…
          Technoblade
        “Phil,” Techno called on his walkie, trying to quiet down the girl crying in his arms.
        “Yes?” Phil answered.
        “She won’t stop crying,” Techno told him, Phil, able to hear the girl, chuckling quietly to himself. “Don’t laugh at this!”
        “Sorry, sorry. Alright, you feed and changed her right?” The older man listed.
        “Yes.” He had done it a few minutes ago, on his usual schedule to do so.
        “Did you burp her after she ate?”
        Techno paused and huffed before burping the child, the cries dying down after she released the gas that had built up.
        “I forgot, she stopped.”
        “Good. Just relax now, alright Techno?”
        “Yeah.” Techno sighed as he put his walkie away, looking down at the little girl. “What now brat?”
        It was often that Techno called his father to ask what to do. To put it simply, he was worried he’d fuck this all up. He had never exactly taken care of a child before; it had been all anarchy and blood before he decided on retirement. Hell, he barely ever took care of Tommy when he was a child, that was usually Wilbur’s thing.
        He didn’t know the first thing he was doing nor did the voices. They always threw out different ideas contradicting each other. So, Techno always did his best and when it didn’t seem like enough, he went immediately to Phil.
        When he did have things under control though, it was just any other day. Brew some potions out of habit, take care of the animals before collecting food for himself and milk for (Y/N), and trade with some of the villagers close by. The only difference was that he brought (Y/N) with him while he did anything.
        To his relief, she was a quiet child and didn’t mind his quiet nature. She didn’t need pointless noise to be happy so he could just simply work. Techno did get Phil to make her a warmer outfit and Phil took it seriously but also made it a joke. He made her a pink outfit from wool and leather and with a bit extra, put fake pig ears on the hood of the outfit, which Techno would never admit looked adorable on her out loud.
        He most certainly didn’t put it on her even if they weren’t going out that day, why would anyone think that?
        Phil most certainly did spoil her though when he would come over. He’d always have something new for the little girl, clothes, and toys. His father also often tried to discourage Techno from using some of his nicknames for his child when the older man was over, such as brat.
        (Y/N) yawned quietly and Techno chuckled, a small smile cracking on his face.
        “Tired early huh? Yeah, ok, I can use a nap.” He nodded as he went up to his bedroom.
        He sat on his bed, leaning back on the headboard as he racked his brain for their daily ritual.
        “I got a good one today.” He laughed quietly. “Let me tell you about the story of Theseus.”
        Every nap and bedtime, there was always a story for Techno to tell. Sometimes he’d tell her about his adventures around the world, about the places he conquered. There were other days when he’d tell her about myths he had memorized. It was when he’d talk the most to the little girl and he rather enjoyed these moments in his day.
        It was their special little thing and he wouldn’t ever want to miss them.
        Close to the end of the story, he stopped as he noticed (Y/N) was asleep. He nodded as he laid back, resting her carefully on his chest.
        A crib was one thing Techno had not invested his time in. He didn’t move in his sleep and it was rare for the little girl to move in hers. So, he slept with her on his chest, giving him and the voices a better piece of mind. No one knew where he was, but he was still paranoid. This was the safest place for her.
        “Sleep well little goddess,” Techno muttered, a hand on her back.
        Despite the trials, he didn’t mind being a father.
          Eret
        Eret put a small flower crown on the infant’s head that matched the one he was wearing, smiling as she giggled, before picking her up, continuing on their daily walk through the SMP.
        It was a lot of trial and error with the pair but Eret was a quick learner and adapted to the needs of his new child. He didn’t do as much as he once did with his friends, fewer prank wars with Fundy, and less involvement with Tommy’s antics, but he didn’t mind. He spent those hours with his little princess now; taking walks with her, playing with her along the way and in the castle, and making clothes that made her the adorable princess that she.
        Of course, he did still sometimes get involved.
        “Eret!” Tommy yelled on the walkie.
        Eret chuckled as he took it from his pocket. “It seems Tommy is having troubles again princess.” She gave a babble and Eret nodded. “You’re very right. Let’s see what he needs. Yes, Tommy?”
        “I need your help at my base ASAP!” Tommy demanded.
        “It’s nothing dangerous right?” He asked.
        “Of course not, now if you could hurry.”
        He shook his head chuckling. “Alright, I’m on my way.”
        Putting the walkie away, he hugged his little girl lightly as he changed direction.
        “Sorry princess, we need to go check on Tommy. I know you won’t mind though.”
        There were other times that had happened similarly and Eret would take (Y/N) with him to meet the younger boy. The younger boy’s energy would rub off on the infant and she would get excited as well, babbling and giggling constantly. As long as nothing dangerous was going on, Eret was glad to bring (Y/N) over as it always brought a smile to his face at how adorable she’d get.
        Walking onto Tommy's property, he saw the young boy waiting impatiently outside his dirt home.
        “There you are! You brought the brat?” He huffed.
        “Come now, Tommy. (Y/N) loves being around you, at least be kind to her.” Eret smiled, knowing the boy meant no ill will.
        “Right, now!” Tommy said dramatically as he opened the door to his base. “I need to make a plan!”
        Following him in, he saw Tubbo was also there looking over a paper with Tommy’s handwriting on it. Tubbo looked up as they came in and grinned seeing the little girl in Eret’s arms.
        “You brought (Y/N)!” Tubbo exclaimed excitedly as he came over. “Can I hold her?”
        Eret laughed as he nodded, helping the other boy hold her. Tubbo enjoyed seeing the little girl, loving to play with her and spend time with her. There were times when Eret would let Tubbo babysit his princess so he could do a few more dangerous tasks.
        “You got a little crown, you’re really a princess now.” Tubbo grinned as the girl babbled at him.
        “We’re not here for (Y/N), we’re here to plan!” Tommy protested now.
        Tommy didn’t mind the small child, he just got annoyed when the focus would come off him.
        Focus went back on Tommy but Eret left after a little while to give (Y/N) her lunch for the day. She had gotten energetic after seeing the two boys, babbling and giggling as Eret played with her on the walk back. As they got back to his castle, he saw a wrapped package and note at the main door. Picking it up, he saw it was Fundy’s handwriting.
        You stand no chance, it’s for (Y/N)
        He raised an eyebrow, opening the package then laughed.
        “It seems Fundy wishes to make you love him more than me.” Eret showed her the fox plushy, making her eyes sparkle as he gave it to her. “But I know that you’ll always love me, princess.” He booped her nose, (Y/N) looking at his sunglasses, babbling. “That’s right. I think this prank was an automatic failure. I love you princess.”
          Dream
        “Come on (Y/N), you just got to hold out your hands to me,” Sapnap told the infant in the crib at the community house.
        “No, she’s going to me,” George argued.
        The little girl looked between the two as they went between bickering and encouraging her to hold her hands out to them. Then she looked directly between them and held her arms out giggling.
        “What?” George looked behind them and yelped seeing Dream.
        “What are you idiots doing?” Dream laughed as he picked up his daughter.
        “We were trying to get (Y/N) to choose her favorite uncle, but then you ruined it.” Sapnap huffed, crossing his arms.
        “Well, I am her favorite person.” Dream bragged as he pulled his mask up while looking at the little girl. “Peek-a-boo.”
        The girl gave a little squeal of laughter and Dream chuckled rubbing his nose against hers.
        “She loves both of you idiots.” Dream told them, put his mask back on. “You’re her uncles.”
        “Yeah, but I got to prove Uncle Sapnap is the best.” Sapnap pointed to himself.
        “No! I’m better than you of course.”
        The two bickered and Dream shook his head at his friends before leaving the community house.
        “Your uncles are stupid.” Dream whispered to the little girl, tickling her stomach making her giggle. “Why don’t we go look at what the new people have built today, sound good sweetheart?”
        After Dream had taken in the little girl, his life had most certainly brightened more as their world around them grew. She was a constant ball of happiness that always made Dream and his friends smile. Of course, they had to power through learning how to take care of a baby, a lot of screaming coming from all parties the first night they had the child. But they were starting to get the hang of it.
        One thing Dream loved to do that always seemed to please the little girl was taking her around to see the new buildings that were slowly starting to appear as more people joined their land of the SMP. She seemed to like taking in the new sights so Dream took her whenever someone new came or a new build appeared.
        “I don’t know what I’m going to do with your uncles when you get older. They’re going to be falling over each other to get your attention.” Dream told her as he walked. “I think they think I’ll like whoever wins. You’re my special little girl after all. But what they don’t know, is I don’t care as long as you’re happy.”
        It was very true that Dream’s two best friends were always falling each other to get the attention of the infant already. They got her many things to win her over, having similar competitions when Dream wasn’t looking. Right now, the score was even.
        To try and balance the two-out, Dream would alternate on who he took out for dangerous adventures and who would stay with his little girl. He couldn’t send the both of them on their own, unfortunately, least one of them “trips” into a lava pool.
        Dream stopped on the edge of the new property, (Y/N) looking at the colorful flowers decorating it.
        He was a bit hesitant to show her off to others as he wasn’t the most trusting but if they were going to be part of his land, he would introduce her out principle. He did say she was going to be the princess of his land.
        “No new faces today doesn’t seem Tommy is around.” Dream said to her. “We’ll see him later I’m sure. How about we go visit Punz for a bit?”
        He walked away from the property. There were so many people on his land now, he was sure it would become a bright place where his little princess could always be happy.
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turquoisea · 3 years
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Family reunion
Pairing: Dabi/ Fem!Reader
Warnings: Kidnapping, Dub-con, Degradation, Brother/Sister Incest, Manipulation, Guilt-tripping, OOC, Smut
Contains manga spoilers. Minors DNI.
Words: 4130
Synopsis: You was kidnapped while on your way home from work. Turned out your kidnapper was someone you knew.
A/N: I don't own any of the characters. Please read the warnings before continuing and we're gonna jump straight to the scene after (y/n) had been kidnapped (because i was too lazy to write the former part OTL)
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Unable to escape from the kidnapper’s tight rope around your wrists, you helplessly let him carry you to somewhere that looked like an abandoned building. Not like you could exactly tell where it was, given the fact that your eyes had been covered ever since he captured you until you two “arrived” at the destination. Either had you been able to scream or to call for help, “If you decide to be a naughty little girl and make a fuss, or to even let a single person know about this and hinder my work, I can and I will burn your whole workplace while letting your watch every single second of it.” – the kidnapper had threatened, making panic surged within your body; the only thing you could blurt out to answer his “Is that clear?” was a simple “Yes.” Not wanting to involve any of your aquaintances, you decided to keep your mouth shut the entire time. You thought that it was a better idea to wait until you could learn about what he wanted, his motives behind this before trying to escape.
He placed you down on the floor after carrying you into a small room with the action being a little too gentle for a kidnapper, you thought and opened your eyes only to be met with a pair of turquoise gazes, slightly hidden behind his spiky black hair. Those reminded you of Shouto’s left eye color but they had a rather.. captivating effect, making you unable to tear your eyes off them. More like Touya’s eyes – the recollection passing your mind was quickly brushed off, given the harsh reality that Touya has been dead for more than 10 years. You cautiously opened your mouth to ask, still keeping eye contact.
"What do you want?"
“…What do I want?” He repeated the question before slowly taking off his black face mask. The way he did it was deliberate, elegant even, as if he was putting on a show to reveal what’s hidden behind the mask. In front of you was an abnormal façade: Purple skin lied under his eye bags, his lower cheeks and lower lip, all the way down to his collarbone; connected together with the normal parts of the skin by surgical staples. An audible gasp escaped your throat the moment you realized that the man who abducted you was the wanted criminal you saw on TV.
“League of Villains.. You’re.. You’re Dabi…”
“Dabi? Ah yes, people call me that now. But I thought you would recognize me now, you’re my family after all..” He trailed off at the end, as though he was rather hurt by your comment.
“Family? Stop joking now, we don’t even know each other!”
“You sure? Even when you used to call me Touya-nii with that sweet voice of yours?”
“I said stop!! Listen, I have no idea why you know about Touya but he’s not alive anymore, don’t bring him into this!” Your shaking voice resounded with rage. In the past few years you’d partly moved on from your brother’s death, even learned how to stop tearing up whenever someone mentions him. To say you was mad was an understatement, since the kidnapper crossed the line, pulled out those emotions that you’d tried so hard to hide them away. You couldn’t stay calm anymore. This villain and the audacity to even mention Touya, let alone making such an unbearable joke about him.
“(y/n)-chan,” The way he called your name was too familiar “you still have the habit of defending me after all this time.”
“Wh..What.. do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember? You were always there to patch me up every time I went out training on my own. Those nights that distress and hatred consumed me, you were the only one who was willing to give me a shoulder to cry on, to hear me rant about that stupid family. You were the only one who didn’t refuse to look at a “failure” like me while our father focused all his attention on that “masterpiece”. You made me feel like I’m not useless, (y/n)-chan. Sure you haven’t forgotten, right?”
“You’re.. lying.. Touya-nii is..”
“Yes, yes. Everybody thought so.” He interrupted. “But I escaped from the fire and as you can see,” He raised his hand to touch the staples. “I’m still here. If I’d died in that fire, I would have become a ghost, an evil spirit to haunt the hell out of Todoroki Enji.” The explanation ended with a snort.
But not for you, you couldn’t possibly laugh about it the way he did. You were nothing but speechless. The big brother you once thought wasn’t here, could never be here with you anymore was still alive and kicking. Thoughts of how Touya had managed to live since that day started to emerge your mind and probably because of the invisible connection, the blood connection between you two, you could feel his pain, his suffering, the dull ache that never go away in every single staple on his body… It must’ve been hard for a thirteen-year-old child to manage by himself after crawling out of a literal hell, you thought, mouth still agaped with astonishment. Tears neither stopped welling up, nor did they escape your shiny orbs when you looked at him through your blurry vision. You had so many questions to ask, but none of them could be voiced.
“But that’s the story for another day. Now, we have to celebrate the happy reunion of brother and sister, right?” He interrupted your thoughts before slowly approaching you. His tall body hovered over yours, enhancing the feeling of being small and helpless as your hands still being tied behind your back. He gripped your jaw with one hand, the other started to work on the buttons of your shirt while Touya’s slightly chapped lips met your own in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly turned passionate, sloppy with his tongue chasing every corner of your mouth.
“Touya..nii..” You panted between his kisses, trying your best to stop him from doing what you think he was trying to do. “We shouldn’t.. You shouldn’t do this.. We’re siblings..”
“Ah yes, you’re my favorite sibling after all, one more reason why we should do this, right?” His stapled mouth stretched into a huge grin, then he leaned back to take in the view of your body.
“My little sister has grown up.. To be honest, I didn’t have any of these dirty thoughts when we were children but now, I just want to fucking ravish you until all you can think of is me and my cock.”
His dirty talk sent a shiver thorough your body and you started to feel heat coiling up in your core. As if amused, turned on by your reaction, Touya grabbed one of your breasts and gave it a squeeze, causing a soft moan to escape your pump lips.
“What was that? Don’t tell me (y/n)-chan is aroused by her very own brother, hm? I’ve been stalking you for a while, my little sister. ‘Twas hard to find you since you don’t live at that house anymore. Can’t believe behind all those innocent act is a little whore who gets aroused easily by her Touya-nii.” He spat out, specifically emphasized the phrase you used to call him. Blue eyes looking down at you as if you were indeed what he said – a slut waiting to be bred.
“Touya-nii.. Please stop it.. I don’t want this..” Looking up at him through your wet lashes, you said with a whimper, begging him to stop.
Little did you know it had no such effect for Touya. Seeing your vulnerable face in a helpless state only boosted his ego; he felt as if he was the only one you could rely on, the only one who was able to decide your fate and damn, he could never get bored of this.
“What a pity, (y/n)-chan, because I, in fact, DO want this.” Touya murmured between kisses, leaving red spots blossoming all over your breasts, your shoulders, your collarbone. “Don’t you want to make your Touya-nii happy (y/n)-chan? You see, there hadn’t been a single day in which these staples stopped hurting me whenever I move. My tear glands were burned ever since the fire. I couldn’t cry because when I do, it hurts and blood flows out of my eye bags.” His fingers indicated the purple skin underneath his eyes as he continued. “I've lived with emotional numbness ever since. Your big brother doesn't feel anything anymore, (y/n)-chan..” Touya trailed off.
“But you, the only one who didn’t refuse to look at me... Having you here with me really makes me happy, and the kind little sister I know wouldn’t want to take that happiness away from me right?..” Turquoise orbs looked up at you through black strands of hair. As if wavering, as if pleading, as if he was asking you for your consent.
All to hide the fact that he guilt-tripped you into this.
And with him being a quick-witted, perceptive man, Touya’s tactics were never fruitless. He could tell your conscience would be troubled if you’d turned him down, especially when he phrased the words like that. He took advantage of the shocking state you were in, making you feel pity for him and overlook his immoral behaviours.
Touya waited with bated breath, eye contact still maintained.
“I..I want Touya-nii to be happy..” – your reply after a moment of thinking only caused a chuckle to escape his mouth and it’s almost like this was all he had been waiting for, all in his anticipation. This was the exact reaction that Touya wanted and as your best big brother ever, he couldn’t possibly put off anymore without his hands as your bra, nor could he wait any longer to secure this “happiness”.
“Knew my favorite sister would say that.” Touya couldn’t hide his triumphant expression when he quickly made his way down to your skirt, lifting it up so he could see what’s underneath. Gently, he palmed your groin before dragging his middle finger between your clothed slit only to find that your panties was already soaked.
“Oh? I already knew you were a whore behind your innocent façade but didn’t think you would be this shameless.. Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “Getting all nice and wet for your own brother. You said you wanted to make me happy but in truth, you just need to feel nii-san’s cock inside your hole right? Shameless slut.”
You groaned in exasperation and opened your mouth to protest but before you could even say anything, he ripped your white panties apart, making you squirm in awe. The rough pad of his thumb dragged over your clit while his knees spread your legs wide and held them in places. Touya’s finger slowly rubbed your clit in a circular motion and you couldn’t help but wanting more of those frictions, your hips involuntarily bucked forward.
“I was going to eat my favorite little sister out, but it seems like you can’t wait any longer huh? Look at this little pussy..” He said while using his index and middle finger to swipe at your entrance, gathering your juices on them, his eyes didn’t miss the way it clenched around nothing. “You must be so, so desperate to feel anything inside your pathetic hole, right? Will my fingers be enough to satisfy it?”
“Touya-nii..”
“Don’t be vague, (y/n)-chan. Sure you don’t want to hump a pillow like a dumb slut with her hands still tied while watching me masturbate to the sight of you right? Because if you don’t use your words now, I might let us do that for real.”
“Please, Touya-nii, I don’t want to! I want.. to be filled up by you instead..”
Upon hearing your words, Touya started palming the large bulge of his pants before unzipping the fermeture, gently pulled his boxer down to show you what’s underneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of Touya’s veiny cock. It was not as big as what you usually see on movies (not that you don’t know the porn industry isn’t anywhere near realistic), but rather thin and long as it was hard, practically throbbing in his palm whenever he stroked the shaft. However, what made you surprise was the shiny Prince Albert piercing located on the glans, signaling a hard time in the near future for your cervix.
Seeing your face expression only made Touya’s smirk grew wider and he looked like the cat that got the cream when he continued making you use more of your words, making you beg for his cock.
“And you want to be filled by what?”
As hesitant as you were after seeing his cock piercing, the way his fingers ignited sparkles of fire inside your core had your pride, your uncertainty wavering. You’d rather be fucked until your mouth can’t even form a coherent sentence than be left naked and needy while watching him masturbates until he cums anywhere that’s not inside your pussy. So you used your words, like a good girl should.
“By your cock, Touya-nii! I want you to fuck me hard!”
“Sure thing, my cute little slut.” He cooed. “Who am I to refuse to give my sister what she needs? I’m a good brother after all.”
And as a “good” brother he was, Touya even slide his fingers inside your wet pussy to prepare you for his cock. Despite having a fire quirk like your father, his fingers were cold and were only warmed up by the heat inside your core. They smoothly pumped into you, scissored you open, sometimes even curled up on purpose only to slightly brush against your soft spot, leaving you wanting more. His other hand found its way again on your clit, rubbing and circling along with his continuous fingering until you were nothing but a moaning mess, begging for your release.
He decided that he’d prepared you enough and retreat his fingers just before you could reach your climax. You whimpered loudly when he took the orgasm away from you, legs instantly wrapped around his hips to pull him closer. You had never felt this touch-starved before and all you could think of was only your Touya-nii, his captivating blue gazes, his touch, his voice and his pierced cock that somehow fits perfectly on his slim but toned body. You needed to feel him and you clumsily rubbed your pussy against Touya while trying to break free from the ropes tying your wrists together. But all that you could do wasn’t near enough so you looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Touya-nii.. Please.. Please give me your cock.. I can’t take it anymore, I need your cock inside me..”
“Fine, since you asked so nicely.” Touya sneered as if he wasn’t the one who purposefully denied your orgasm before holding his cock, rubbing the swollen red tip at your entrance, feeling your juices mixing with beads of his precum then thrusted it all the way in. You both winced the moment you and your brother became one: you from the depth that his cock could go and him from the way your walls clenched around it.
“(y/n)-chan.. Your little pussy feels so tight.. Not that I mind how many people you slept with but damn.. This pussy's a keeper for sure..” Sighing with a shaky voice, he pulled out slowly only to slam back in ruthlessly. His hands used the dagger from before to release your aching wrists then started to rub small circles on them as if to soothe the pain. With your hands now free from bound, you wrapped them around Touya’s neck to pull him even closer, your lips moved under his to meet them in a kiss.
"Touya-nii.. Please move.." After a moment long enough for your pussy to stretch to his size, you broke from the passionate kiss to whisper to him; your tongue softly licked his lower lip, feeling the rough texture while your pussy clenched around his cock. You lifted your hips, inviting your big brother to bury his hot member deeper into you.
"Eager, aren't we?" To your plea, he only chuckled before moving his hand to grab a handful of your tits, squeezing the soft mound, toying with your swollen nipple. "Your wish is my command, my baby sister. Nii-san's going to make you feel really good now." His voice sounded so sensual when he moved his mouth close to your ear, whispered honeyed-words then nibbled at your earlobe, causing you to clench your pussy even more.
Touya's hands traveled down to grab both of your asscheeks, held them tightly in their places before he started thrusting his pulsing cock. "So good.. Touya-nii.." You moaned in rhythm with his hips whenever he bottomed out inside you; his cock piercing rubbed your walls every time he moved. The friction felt heavenly that you could feel your legs started to shake as if you couldn't control them anymore. He was different. His cock was different from anything you'd ever experienced. Touya filled you up so well, both physically and emotionally, making you feel good, feel loved, making tears well up in your eyes.
He let your legs rest on his shoulders as he continued claiming your pussy to himself, each thrust was hard and deep 'til the point that Touya's tip touched your cervix whenever he sheathed his full length in you. It hurt, but it hurt so good that not only did you not want it to stop, you wanted more and more of him, you wanted to indulge longer in this sinful pleasure.
"Fuck.. You're so tight around me.." He groaned as his pace became faster. A hand retreated from under you to hover above your neglected clit before he started stroking it softly, rubbing back and forth, drawing repeated circles onto your bundle of nerves.
Touya didn't leave anywhere on your body untouched: your tits, your belly, your inner thighs, your asscheeks, your clit, your core. His name fell out of your lips between heated moans like prayers and the pleasure kept building up that you felt like you're about to burst into bliss. Everything was so intense and you started to you wonder, is it because he denied your orgasm before or because his cock could actually bring you heaven? Those thoughts crossed your mind but you didn't know the answer. He'd fucked you dumb and now you couldn't think of anything else other than him and the tension deepening in your lower belly.
"Touya-nii.. 'M wanna cum.. Please.. Please let me cum.." You whined when you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, afraid that he would deny it again if you don't beg.
"Cum on my cock baby, let me feel you. And you should be.. Fuck.. grateful that I let you do it.." He didn't stop his assault on your clit as he railed you hard and fast, his thrust grew sloppier when your pussy clamped down on him. Wet noises echoed in the abandoned building along with your whines and the moans that Touya tried to hold back.
"Thank you.. Thank you Touya-nii.. for letting me cum.." was all you managed to choke out before you threw your head back, eyes squeezed shut causing tears of pleasure to fall out and your pussy clenched around him as you released your pent-up pressure.
"Attagirl, nii-san loves you.. Gonna officially mark you now, 'mkay? Gonna breed this little sister's pussy, gonna fill you up with my cum and put a baby in you.." Touya leaned over to whisper into your open mouth, planting chaste kisses all over your face while sloppily humping your body like an animal. You could feel him burry himself deep inside you when his brows furrowed and he muttered "Fuck" before Touya came inside your pussy. His thick ropes were hot as they spilled into your womb, painting your walls with his colour.
A moment passed with nothing but pants as you both tried to regain your breaths. You closed your eyes, basking in the afterglow with his cock still plugged in when you heard the clicking sound of a camera. Your eyes immediately shot open only to find Touya holding his phone in hand.
"Touya-nii.. Did you just.." You warily asked.
"Oh? Did I forget to tell you?" Touya casually looked up from his phone, a smirk tugged at the corner of his stapled mouth and he suddenly looked so strange, as if the person in front of you and the one who just came inside you was two different people.
"You see, there are two possible ways to completely break Todoroki Enji." He began explaining, his voice distant. "One, is to kill his masterpiece Shouto right in front of him by the own hands of his 'failure'."
"And two," His eyes locked with you as his smirk grew wider. "is to let him see his pure little angel being corrupted by the abandoned son." Touya finished his short speech, his hips pulled back so his now limp cock fell out of you with a wet pop. White cum slowly dripped out of your used pussy, all captured by the camera again.
You could see the flame of anger burning in his eyes when he mentioned your father's name and the tone of disgust in his voice when he spoke lowly of himself. There were so many problems that you didn't know where to begin with. All you could do was hang your mouth open, speechlessly watched him typing something on the phone.
"There, all done." Touya cheerfully informed. "Don't worry a thing, my baby sister, no one will get to keep those pictures except for me. I sent them to the old man using Vanish Mode, he'll see them for a few seconds before they disappear forever, just like how his little angel vanish from his life. Oh how I wish I could see his expression when he opens my messages."
You were absolutely stunned. You never thought your dead brother was able to come out alive, let alone to even have a detailed plan to destroy your father's mentality. There were so many things that your mind couldn't process in an instant.
"So you.. So you fucked me just for this?.." Your voice came out shakier than you expected. Your hands unconsciously moved to cover yourself as you hugged your own body, the world starting to crumble in your eyes.
"Partly, yes. But I wasn't lying when I said I love you." Touya planted a soft kiss on your forehead.
"E-Enough with all of this. I'm going home!" You raised your voice and wriggled out of his touch.
"Can't let you do that (y/n)-chan. The world doesn't know me as Touya, you're the first, the honorable one. Can't risk you leaking my secret right? And I plan to torture old man's mind repeatedly with more images of you, just like how he projected everything onto me when I was young." He tilted his head and laughed, and suddenly you couldn't tell whether his laughter was genuine or was an act of mockery. Probably both.
"Besides, I'm a little.. disappointed that my favorite sister actually wants to part so, so soon, especially when we just had a rather.. emotional family reunion, no?" His mood seemed to light up as he continued speaking.
"What.. do you mean by that? Just let me go already! I promise I won't tell anyone!" Tears started to form in your eyes as you slowly realized what the man meant. You were uncomfortable with the room's atmosphere; it's overwhelming you and you didn't want to stay any longer. You looked behind him, trying to figure out an escape path.
"Now, if you wanted to go so badly," - your actions couldn't escape his perceptive eyes - "I'm gonna escort you to a better place, 'mkay? They're gonna track down this place soon enough since I texted him with my phone. But don't you worry, nii-san won't let anyone hurt you, my (y/n)."
Touya had an almost-innocent smile when he approached you with his arms open, as if waiting for you to give him a hug. You backed away, but as stubborn as this Capricorn man was, he still wrapped his arms around you.
Ever since your childhood, Touya's body was warm, Touya's embrace was always comforting. But now, everything he did chilled you to the bone, making you start to shake uncontrollably. Suddenly you felt a sharp prick on your skin; followed by your consciousness slowly slipping away. Your vision started to grow blurry and all you heard before you drifted off was his voice, whispering to your ear.
"Now we won't be alone anymore."
The End.
A/N 2: I hope you enjoyed it! English isn't my first language so please be gentle with me QwQ. Thanks for reading!
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kingsuckjin · 4 years
Text
Ungodly Beast 2
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⸸ Pairing: Devil! Jungkook x reader, Priest! Namjoon x reader
⸸ Rated: M (18+)
⸸ Genre: smut, horror, fluff?, angst?
⸸ Synopsis: You’d rather go to hell yourself than let the devil take your baby, even if he helped create him… even if your little boy is beginning to sprout horns.
⸸ Warnings: (may contain spoilers) death, kidnapping, kind of depression and some heavy feels, satanic symbolism, voyeurism, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (please wrap your ding dong before playing ping pong), more sinful shit, male masturbation, dom-ish reader, strangulation (like also not in a sexy way), dom! Jungkook, spit kink, the most dirty talk you've ever seen, fisting, fingering, dick size kink, daddy kink, degradation, impreg kink, pain kink, devil kook still looks wild, spanking, branding, choking, hair pulling, biting and scratching, blood play/blood eating, tattoo kink, really rough sex, a very jealous Jungkook, more death/murder, a very brief mention of drugs, fluffy sex, gore, a fight scene, it's just graphic and awful.
⸸ Words: 15k
⸸ Note: I’d link the first part in this fic here, but tumblr has been doing this cute little thing where if you insert a link in something then the fic won’t show up in the tags. So I very sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, but you’ll have to go through my masterlist to find part 1. Also, an anon told me that this fic goes really well with the album Too Weird to Live too Rare to die by panic at the disco, specifically the song Far too young to die, so if you're looking for something to listen too while reading this, then that would be perfect.
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"What have you done?"
Those were your mother's first words after telling her you were pregnant. You had no idea how she knew, perhaps it was the worried, troubled, tired look on your face that that told her. Maybe she just sensed it, sensed the seed of half evil already taken root and growing inside of you.
You stayed silent, confirming an unspoken conclusion between you. She clutched at the rosary around her neck as her shocked, open mouth quivered and glossy tears pooled in her eyes.
"You didn't…" She whispered, "please tell me you didn't." 
Out of shame, you still didn't speak.
"How did you know?" You finally decided to ask.
"I've dealt with him before, I know the way his terrible presence feels, and now I feel it with you. I almost can't stand it." Her words both stung and made you have an unsettling feeling that crawled up your spine. Was it simply the baby she had felt? Had he marked you somehow and now it was you making her feel like this? Or was he with you? Silently watching and waiting.
"What did you give for the child?" Your mother was nearly in sobs now.
"He didn't tell me at first-" you began to try to defend yourself but your mother cut you off.
"He never does. What was it?" 
"He's taking him…" you felt the prick of tears sting your eyes now too. You had to cover your mouth quite suddenly to keep a sob from escaping. It hurt to think about, to talk about. You were afraid. "...when he turns five."
She took your hands between hers and looked you in the eyes.
"We will do everything we can, I promise. We will fight."
You nodded and attempted to blink away the tears.
"Pray with me. We can pray. God will help us, I know it." 
You nodded again as she gripped your hands firmly in hers reassuringly. She let her head fall slightly and closed her eyes prompting you to do the same.
As she started with her prayer, you began to feel a ringing in your head, the sound grew and grew until it was piercing, drowning out her words. A tsunami of nausea overtook your body so powerful you jumped up from your seat at your mother's kitchen table, knocking the chair back as you ran for the bathroom in a dizzy haze.
"Ah, they should call it all day sickness instead of morning sickness." Your mom had committed, seeming to brush it off, but you knew in your heart and deep in your soul that something was very, very wrong here.
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From the moment you first saw him, you were in love. His big doe eyes, his chubby little cheeks, his soft little hands, and feet. Although he had no horns or black eyes, you tried hard not to see his father in him, which was difficult sometimes.
The worst memories for you were taking him to get baptized as a newborn. He had screamed from the moment you had entered the church and nothing you could do would calm him.
The moment the blessed holy water touched his skin, you watched as it seemed to burn and blister his infant skin in just seconds. You went out to your car in the church parking lot, 
calmed him the best you could before strapping him into his car seat, and you cried.
You cried because while he seemed to be a normal little baby, your son, the baby you feed with your own body, sing to, bathe, and love, you were occasionally reminded of what he was and that you might only have him for a very short time.
He still whimpered in the back seat just as you did in the front. Guilt and sadness and fear prompted you to get out of the car and into the back seat where you unfastened him as his pout only worsted your feelings. You took his small body in your arms and held him to your chest. Your nose snuggled into his mess of fluffy dark hair.
"I love you. No ones ever going to take you away from me. I don't care what you are, you're my son more than anything." You let your tears fall onto his head.
That wasn't the scariest thing you had been through though. The worst was the nightmares.
The first was just under a month after he had been born. You had sat up in your bed covered in sweat, the house felt like an oven. Your heart was beating hard even before you had heard it coming through the baby monitor.
Singing.
It sounded high and angelic along with the happy coos of your son. As your groggy mess faded with the race of your heart you also realized it was in a language you not just couldn't understand, but had never heard anything like it before.
It took no time at all for you to practically leap from your bed, and dash from your room and down the hall to your son's room.
As you pushed his door open you saw him. You felt like your heart was beating in your throat now as you saw him with his back to you holding your son, bathed in only the moonlight that the sheer curtains of the nursery let in.
The singing had turned to a soft hum. You realized how wrong you were upon pinning his voice like an angel. You saw the horns sprouting from his wavy hair that dangled as he looked down at the baby in his arms.
You wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to do anything to save your baby and keep him from being taken away from you. He was a newborn, it wasn't even time.
You couldn't do anything though, and you didn't know why.
Horrifyingly you found yourself yet again drawn to him, in awe at his presence.
"You can't…" you managed to choke out.
"I will." He didn't turn as he spoke to you. After he spoke, you woke up.
You couldn't sleep very long for months after that nightmare. 
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There was no denying by age two and a half that he looked more like his father. There was also no denying the little bumps you found while brushing his shaggy hair that sat on the top of his head under his skin. Most mothers would be concerned, wonder if their child had gotten hurt, and bumped their head a few times. But you just sat there frozen, feeling the bumps. You knew what they were, they were his father's claim to him, they were forming horns.
"Mommy okay?" Your son noticed your strange and oddly still demeanor as the hairbrush dropped from your hands onto the bathroom tile where you sat. 
That's when it hit you the hardest. Your baby was halfway there. Halfway gone. All you had done so far was helplessly try to deny the fact that he was coming for him. He would take your little boy and drag him to hell if you didn't do something to fight this, find some way, something, someone to help you.
"Mommy?" your son had turned around and was now reaching for your cheeks to smush with his hands like you often did him. His face read of concern and question. Your heart melted at his little gesture. You took in his sweet little face again, his little two front teeth poked out just a little. You couldn't help but squish his face gently right back.
"Mommy's okay." You tried to reassure him the best you could, and it seemed to work. Lucky for you toddlers were sweetly gullible.
The moment you got free time you sent a text to your mom telling her you'd be dropping her grandson off at her house tomorrow, you didn't wait for a reply as you already knew she would jump at any chance to see her grandson whenever she could.
You then made a very important series of phone calls.
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"Thank you, thank you so much for meeting with me today on such short notice father-" 
"Father Namjoon or just Namjoon is fine." He interrupted. "And don't mention it, I'm here to help. You mentioned problems with your child?"
You took a deep breath and let your face finally show the worry you felt, your bouncing foot on the floor let out your anxiety. You sat there in his office at this tiny church. Worried he would throw you out the moment you told him the truth about what was going on.
Father Namjoon sat across the big worn wooden desk from you and waited patiently for you to further explain. Behind him on the wall was a massive cross along with pictures with him and maybe members of the church pinned to the wall.
" I'm afraid I didn't tell you everything over the phone because… well, every priest I've called said I was crazy and hung up on me after I told them." You admitted and watched as his body language changed with his growing attention.
"But father Namjoon, I swear on my son's life that what I'm about to tell you is the truth. My son is no trouble, but his father is. See, I would've brought my son in today, but he gets these… headaches and nosebleeds in churches." 
You watched his reaction carefully, he curiously tilted his head.
"Go on…" he urged.
"Because his father… is… the devil."
Namjoon gave you a nod of understanding that was far too casual for the words you said.
"I have proof." You defended before he could even think to refute your claim.
"I believe you." 
"What?" You asked thinking maybe you were only hearing what you wanted to.
"Listen," he leaned forward so that his arms rested on his desk. "He's real. I know he's real. The nervousness in your voice and you say you have proof… you seem perfectly sane to me. When can I meet with your son? Would your home be alright?"
"What are you doing right now? He's with my mother right now."
"Let's go." He said with sureness and no thinking time behind it.
He followed your car to your mother's home. You watched as he got out of his car and just stood there in the driveway, staring at the home.
"Something wrong father?" You asked as he brought forth the cross around his neck and clutched it tightly.
"I can feel him."
"My son? My mom says the same thing about him. We just assume he carries the same feeling as-"
"Not your son, the devil. He's here." 
Your heart began to race at the thought of encountering him again. Maybe you had gotten in over your head by asking a priest to see him, but you had to do something.
"Your cross." You stopped father Namjoon as he started to walk towards the door. "I'm sorry but you can't have it near him. My mother had to take down all of hers when he was born." 
His eyes seemed to shift around nervously before finally taking off his cross and putting it in his car.
"No worries." He gave you a reassuring smile. 
You expected more upon entering the house, not just for your son to casually be sitting there watching tv.
You and your mother had exchanged silent, nervous glances upon her letting you in and seeing the priest.
"Hey buddy, someone wants to talk to you." You knelt down and told your son but he seemed to ignore you.
Your mom turned off the tv, but it didn't seem to affect him.
"Touch his head." You whispered to Namjoon.
He stepped forward and crouched on the floor.
"Hey, little guy! What kind of show were you watching?" He placed his hand on your son's head to pat it but quickly retracted it.
"Don't touch me." your son spoke clearly and firmly. His speech was nothing like his normal, broken toddler way of talking.
You looked at Namjoon who still looked shocked by something, it had to be the growing horns.
"Daddy said don't touch me." Your son spoke again perfectly as if he were a few years older.
Daddy said
"Oh my go-" you couldn't help but let out at his words. Had his father been around this whole time? Just watching him… and you?
"I won't touch you, I promise. Could you turn around for me?"
Your son did as he was asked and faced the priest, looking up at him with wide, almost terrified eyes.
“Can I show him your back?” you asked knowing he would let you touch him before he would a priest. Your son nodded but seemed confused. 
You lifted the side of his shirt and showed Namjoon the mark spread along the ribs. The upside-down thick, black cross.
“Quite a birthmark you have there.” Namjoon joked with the boy.
“His father has the same one."
Namjoon stood to his feet which prompted you to do the same.
"Can we talk?" His eyes flickered towards the front door.
"Yeah of course." 
"Possibly off the property?" He added and you gave him a nod.
“I'll be back” you assured your mother as you left with the priest.
He led you to his car before asking if you wanted to get a coffee and told you he needed it after what he had just seen and felt. You understood and agreed.
He continued to apologize on the short drive there, but again you understood his need to process this.
It wasn't until after you both had gotten your drinks and sat down in a quiet corner of the shop that he began to talk openly.
“I’m still not sure what to think of all this, but I know you're not lying. He looks like him. My…” he let out a sigh as he played with a pink packet of sugar. “My grandmother had a run-in with him once, never said why or how, but she described him and the way his presence felt. I just don’t think it's your child making me feel that way. I really need to ask what happened between you and...his...father.”
“I-um..I…” you too took a deep breath and decided to explain everything as detailed as you could from summoning him, to only having a few years left with your son. You felt ashamed as you explained to this priest how you had slept with the devil.
Namjoon didn't seem to judge you though, as a matter of fact, he looked sympathetic. He seemed so sweet, kind, and understanding.
“I’m not sure what I can do here,” he told you and reached across the table to place his hand on yours “but I promise to do the best I can. I will do what I can to help protect your family and son.”
You felt the honesty and sincerity in his words, it felt so comforting to you.
“It’s going to be hard, I can just tell he doesn't want me there. I don't know if it’s because I’m a man or because I’m a priest. Let me ask you a rather personal question, have you dated at all since your son was born?”
“No.” you shook your head “I don’t want anyone getting attached to my son because I just don't know what's going to happen. Also, I’m afraid…he might do something. I just… I don't want to put anyone else into this that doesn't need to be.” that part hurt you too, you just felt so lonely on top of it all. “I've had no one to turn to with all of this except my mother.”
“Well, you have me now, okay? You don't have to feel alone anymore. We can solve this together.”
Namjoon had come up with a plan to meet with your son every other day, and at the end of the week, he would meet with only you and talk over the progress, if he had made any at all.
Just a few months in, there was a difference. It seemed his method of slowly introducing god and holy objects such as crosses were beginning to work, he no longer got headaches and nosebleeds around them, and his horns while still little bumps under his skin, they had stopped growing. That also happened to be the month your mother got very very sick. No matter how many times Namjoon came and prayed over her, she still continued to just slip away until she was gone.
And now you had no one but Namjoon.
The day after she passed away was the hardest. Your son was still too small to fully grasp the concept of death, but he still cried about his grandmother never getting to play with him again.
You had waited until you had put him to bed and he had fallen asleep to pour yourself a glass of wine and just cry.
Nothing could distract you from the pain, from the heavy misery, not even the pouring rain and house shaking thunder.
You had turned off all of the lights, the only thing that would occasionally light the room was the lightning.
You felt so alone, more alone than you've felt in your life. You tried hard to sense him, but he just didn't seem there. The one time you felt so desperate and alone, his presence didn't loom over you. 
“I hate you,” you spoke out loud. “If you can hear me I hate you. I hate that you've done this to me, I hate that you took her from me and your son. Are you really watching over your son or do you just love to see me suffer? Do you love to see me alone? Huh?” anger coursed through you as you talked to the walls “Answer me!” you yelled a little too loudly and worried that you would wake your son up so you decided to be quiet.
The desperation and loneliness felt like it was suffocating you, you had to do something.
You felt pathetic calling him up this late, but once you heard his voice you already felt better.
“Hey, how are you hanging in there?” 
“Not good Namjoon.” you sniffled “I-I just feel so alone, so in over my head. All the things my mom has done for me I just…” you did your best to hold back tears.
“Do you want me there? Is it alright if I come over so you don't have to feel alone?”
“Please?” Your plea was squeaky and weak.
“I’ll leave right now okay? It's just important to remember that you're not alone. God is with you.”
“Thank you. I don't know what I would have done this past few months without you.”
“Please, don't mention it.”
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You don't know how it got here. You had only had a half a glass of wine in total, and a two-hour deep conversation and now you had pulled him into your room and you were ripping off each other’s clothes as if they were tainted.
“Fuck me” you tossed your shirt to the floor and pressed your lips back to his with ferocity. He sharply exhaled through his nose at how turned on he was by your demand, although you could feel it through his underwear. 
“You sure?” he mumbled into your lips. You let out a hum into his before sinking to your knees.
“Fuck.” he muttered, mesmerized as you pulled his underwear, letting it fall at his feet and letting his cock loose.
You let little time pass between the moment you saw his cock and putting it into your mouth. You were hungry for touch, for affection, for sex, for companionship, and you were sure to show that in the form of his dick in your throat. It was as if somehow you hoped it could fill that strange void that had existed in you for far too long.
He thrust in tandem with your head bobbing while letting out groans and sharp breaths of pleasure that just told you that it had been a while for him too. 
Thunder rolled in your dark room as you suppressed a gag and let your spit dribble down your chin. You were dripping with need at just the thought of sex.
As a brief flash of lightning lit the room, you swore you saw him in the chair in the corner of the room, legs crossed, watching you.
Could it have just been your imagination playing tricks on you? Could you have been just thinking about him? Was it what you wanted to see?
You closed your eyes as you took Namjoon deeper into your throat, letting the tip of your nose connect with his thin patch of pubes.
His hands tangled in the back of your hair.
"Can- can we have sex? Please? This feels too good to take this anymore." 
You took him from your mouth and got into the bed on all fours. He took a moment to take your body and pose in for a moment, but once his brain seemed to function again he got behind you on the bed.
His fingers ran down the skin of your back almost making you shiver.
He yanked your underwear down around your thighs and ran his fingers along your soaking folds.
"No teasing, fuck me."
You heard an almost inaudible moan behind you before feeling his tip at your entrance.
The feeling of him slowly sinking into you, filling you, felt so nice after so long.
"Be rough with me."
"O-okay." He stammered and grabbed the back of your hair to pull on as he began slamming into you.
The skin of his thighs slapped at the meat of your ass over and over, but it somehow just wasn't enough.
"Harder, call me names." 
"I won't- I can't call you names." He panted his refusal.
Thank god he was behind you so he couldn't see you rolling your eyes.
"Stop stop, stop." 
His hips quit moving at once.
"Lay on your back." You had had enough and wanted to take this into your own hands.
One he pulled out and played down you straddled his hips, reaching down to guide his cock into your entrance before sinking down on it.
The moment you slowly moved your hips with him buried inside of you he began to moan. You picked up his hands and placed them on your breasts.
"What do you think, father?" Your voice dripped with seduction as you clenched around him.
"You're so- oh god- so beautiful." 
"Wrong answer." You stilled your hips making him scramble for the right words.
"Your pussy is so wet… just for me." 
"All for you." You began to move your hips again with the answer that satisfied you. Possibly to make sure they didn't stop again his hands drifted down to your hips to move them faster on his own. You couldn't help the loud moan that slipped out of your mouth at him taking control just a little.
"You take my dick so well." 
"Fuck fuck." You chanted, moving your hips faster, feeling so close to losing it. You couldn't lie, the thought of him being a priest was really about to get you off right now.
"Such a bad girl." He murmured. Maybe he felt the same.
"Does it feel good being in the same cunt as the devil has been?" You teased.
You swore you heard a very short, unamused chuckle from somewhere in the room. 
"Fuck yes, fuck I'm so close." He aggressively moved your hips now, his fingers digging into your flesh and finally making you cum.
"Up up" 
You got off of him fast and watched ad his hand went around his cock to give it a few short jerks. His thick cum spurted from the tip. Coating his hand and shaft.
"I'll get you something to clean that up with." You climbed off of him as he quickly nodded.
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"Darliiiiing" 
You felt a hand on your thigh that woke you from your sleep.
"Wake up, I need you." Your face contorted in confusion at Namjoon's words.
"Too tired." You muttered into your pillow.
"But I'm so hard for you." His deep voice whispered in your ear sending tingles through your body.
"All I can think about is your wet little cunt of yours. I'll do whatever you want me to darling." His hand ghosted up your back until it came around and reached your neck where he left it
"Mmm." You hummed in satisfaction as you rotted your ass into his once again hard dick.
"You like that? Hm?" His voice was so thick and rough with sleep. "What if I squeezed just a little?" His fingers tightened slightly around your throat.
You were more than ready now for round two, it seemed he had found some courage between when you fucked earlier and now.
"Who does your pussy belong to, darling?" 
"You." You whispered mixed with a moan. You needed him back inside of you so badly that you ached for it.
"You lying whore." His grip on your throat tightened, so much that it became almost impossible to breathe.
You struggled against his grip and tried to pry his hand from your throat.
"Your body and cunt belongs to the devil. Evil courses through your blood." You could hear the hate in his voice through his gritted teeth.
You tried to kick at him, hit him, but you could feel the tightness in your face and brain from lack of blood flow and oxygen.
"Stop, please." You attempted to choke out as your vision grew hazy.
"You belong in hell too." 
You thrashed until there was no more pressure on your throat, your hands and feet collided with nothing.
You sat up in your bed covered in sweat. You were alone and once again your room was as hot as the pits of hell themselves.
You picked up your phone from the nightstand, almost blinding yourself with the light from it as you checked the time. 
Namjoon had left hours ago. He had left upon your request.
"What the fuck." You sighed as you flopped back into your bed.
As you laid there the weight of reality seemed to feel heavier and heavier on your chest, crushing.
Your mother was dead, you had fucked a priest, the devil wouldn't leave you alone, and you had very little time before your son was gone forever.
Your bedroom felt too large, too spacious for your lonely body just as all of your problems did. Would you end up sucked into it all? Eaten alive? Was there any point in fighting at all?
You swallowed down the lump in your throat but it was no use. You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and leaked into your hairline as you stared up at your ceiling.
"Please" your word brought forth your sobs in the empty room "make it stop. I'll do anything but give up my son, just make it stop."
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You couldn't help it, for weeks after your dream you felt weird around Namjoon. The rational part of your brain knew he wouldn't hurt you, although you still denied any little advances he made. It did fade, and once he took you out to dinner and you let him put his hand on your knee, but he was careful not to overstep boundaries.
You thought about calling him one night as you laid there sleepless in your bed. You don’t know how you had gotten so turned on but your body felt so hot with need.
You tried to just roll over and go to bed, but your sensitive clit throbbed along with your heartbeat as if begging you to touch it. Sny motion you made at all only made things worse until you gave in.
You pulled up your oversized sleep shirt and shoved a hand down your panties. You paused a moment as you realized that it wasn't just getting off you needed, but contact with someone.
You went to reach for your phone on the nightstand, but your hand didn't even meet it before you froze.
"Don't." It was a command.
Your eyes flashed to him sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, just like you thought you had seen him a month ago with Namjoon.
You quickly pulled your hand from your underwear and sat up with your mouth agape.
"Did you miss me, darling?" His horns tilted as his head did.
"Get out of my fucking house and leave me and my son alone!" You growled, clutching your shorts angrily in your fists.
"Why? So you can fuck that priest again?" He held up his index finger, slightly shaking it making a tsk-ing sound. 
"Why does it matter to you what I do?" Your voice was stone cold.
He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned forward in the chair with a smirk. You couldn't stop yourself from thinking how regal and utterly beautiful he looked. He looked far more casual this time in a black t-shirt and jeans, but nonetheless majestic and powerful.
"You must've forgotten. That's alright, I wouldn't mind reminding you. I'm not here for our son, don't worry, not just yet."
"Then let's talk about that." 
"Talk?" He gave a little smile "we can talk. Come here." 
Although you wanted to, almost needed to, you stayed in your bed.
"Then feel free to keep going… unless you want some help."
"Tell me why you're here." You demanded.
"I'm here to save you. You called me."
"I didn't." You argued.
He beckoned you over once more as he stood from the chair. You got out of bed this time and stepped closer.
"You've done nothing but try to get my attention for months. Don't argue, you know I'm right. I can hear it again, that delicate little heart of yours fluttering when you see me." He reached a hand out for you, you took it, it was just so warm in yours. You let him pull you in until your back faced his chest with his hands on your sides.
"You called me, see?" You closed your eyes as he whispered to you, your bodies swayed together in a nonexistent song. It felt as though he was pulling you deeper into a trance, and you let yourself go.
"Does that heartbeat for me? Do you live for me? Do you want me?" You felt his nose graze your neck, the hot air from his worst trailing behind it. You had dreams of this moment for years. His whispers, his touch, the way he made you feel drunk and hypnotized you, the way he made you feel whole.
"Yes." You couldn't lie, everything but the truth had melted away, you couldn't feel or speak much else. You were weak for him, weaker than you remembered.
"Then are you mine?"
"Yes." You answered once more.
"I'll talk to you my love, about whatever your heart desires. First, tell me what it is you want from me." He whispered as you felt him grip the hem of your sleep shirt at your thighs. His hands brushed your skin. You continued to sway with him, eyes closed, worried that if you opened your eyes that this would all be a dream, worried that if you looked at him you'd fall deeper.
You didn't want to say it, you didn't want to admit you wanted him right now. He had done so much to you. Your internal struggle was hard, you wanted him desperately, yet he had done so much to you and your family. Even your closed eyes couldn't hold back the tears that escaped.
"Why did you take her?" A single son escaped but you shut it down, you refused to show all of your weakness.
To your surprise, he gently shushed you.
"Darling, I didn't take her. Her soul was never mine to take. I don't decide who lives and dies, it was just her time."
You were stunned, why was he comforting you? Why did it feel so good?
"Please don't take our son, he's alI have now, he-"
"I've thought about so many things. We can talk later, no tricks, no lies. You don't need to worry. Just let them all fall away and tell me what you want."
You bit your lip as you felt his cock begin to twitch beside you.
"You already know I want you." Your voice was a soft, weak whisper.
"Yes, but do you want me to hold and comfort you? You've been struggling so much with that. Perhaps you want my cock buried so deep inside of you that it hurts. Or maybe you just want me to pump that belly full of a second baby." 
His hand slid into your panties as you let out a gasp of excitement. Every nerve in your body felt hypersensitive, so when he slid his finger over your slit you cried out for him.
"All of it. Please, I want it all." 
"What a greedy, needy little bitch. Did that boring god loving freak not satisfy you?" He teased as his finger dipped into your folds and teased at your clit.
"N-no." You stammered.
"You didn't look like you were having much fun, not until you saw me at least." He seemed so amused by it. "I'm a little mad you let him poorly use you like that" he seemed to growl making slight fear go down your spine. "Who fucks you better? Who has a bigger dick?" His finger circling your clit picked up speed with the ferocity of his words.
"You." Your breath was already short.
"Tonight, prove to me that you're mine, that you're devoted, that you'll do whatever it takes for me, And I'll show you I'm yours." 
This wasn't happening, you couldn't believe the words he had just softly said into your neck. Your disbelief was cut off by your quickly approaching orgasm. You let out a whine as your knees turned to rubber, you would've fallen had he not have been holding you tightly against him.
"That's it darling, let me have you, let go for me." Your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb and all you could do was whine.
"Such a good girl." He still held you tightly and placed light kisses on your neck and collarbone as he took his tattooed hand from the front of your panties.
You let out a small shriek when he picked you up and carefully set you on the bed. He could've broken you in half right then and there, if he wanted to.
"On all fours, ass facing me." 
You hurried into position for him, and for a while, you felt nothing until you felt the fiery sting of a slap along a cheek.
You sucked in a breath.
"What's the matter baby, can't take it for me?"
He was so wrong, you loved it.
"I'll take whatever you give me." Your words were followed by the pleasure of another slap.
"Fuck it." He muttered and suddenly you were dragged by your legs onto his lap where he positioned you over it.
"Take anything for me, huh? We'll see about that." The slaps kept coming until your ass felt raw. You arched your ass up for him as you let out a needy whine.
"You're so fucking wet, it's everywhere. Do you want me to touch you? Is that what you're whining for?" 
You let out another whine.
"Say it."
"Please touch me. I want you to touch me." 
"I'll give you what you want." You knew that tone he used, it was the tone of having something else planned.
His fingers immediately sunk into your core.
"You're wetter than I thought, I could slide whatever I wanted into you so effortlessly." 
You could hear the sounds of his coated fingers working you too.
"Whatever you want." You replied hoping it was his cock, but you knew better at this point.
"My love, I'm going to absolutely fucking ruin you."
You went to reply but suddenly felt the slight stretch and sting of more fingers entering you.
"Ahhhh." You let out but backed up further onto his hand, still wanting more.
"What a good little whore, look at you riding my hand and taking it all for me." 
You loved the pain, and he gave it to you like no one else could. You were already ruined for anyone else, but he didn't know that.
His hand felt so deep inside of you that you swear you could feel it in your stomach.
"Harder." You begged,  and he obliged.
"You like me filling you like this, slut? I'm going to stretch your pussy so well for my big cock."
You continued to rock backward in tandem with his movements, it didn't take long at all until you were almost there, panting and gripping the sheets.
He stopped and slowly pulled his hand from your cunt, leaving you feeling more hollowed out than a pumpkin.
You left his lap and looked at him just in time to see his shirt come off. His body was just as beautiful as you remembered it, something of pure art and fantasy combined. Tattooed, muscular, and smooth you just wanted to lick every single inch of him, you had to.
You climbed back into his lap and pushed him back while you leaned forward and placed your lips to the very warm flesh of his collarbone. Your lips made their way down slowly to his nipples and enveloped one in your mouth.
"Ah." A sound of surprise and pleasure came from him, and you loved it, you loved that you could make him feel that way, you wanted more.
You took your mouth from his chest and crawled backward until you sat between his legs.
You undid his pants and pushed his underwear down along with him. You had almost forgotten just how massive his cock was. It was veiny and the tip was a blushed shade of pink that made your mouth water.
You spit in both your hands and wrapped them both around his shaft.
You slid your spit slicked hands over his leaking head before slowly bringing then down to the base.
"Faster darling. Don't play with me." He threatened with a grunt. You did as he asked and even added your mouth.
His hands tangled tightly in your hair at once.
It was hard to take him even halfway into your mouth without you gagging around his size and thickness filling your throat.
As you sucked his dick, you stared at the three black sixes on his lower stomach and watched as they moved as his muscles flexed.
"What I wouldn't give to cum down your throat right now."
You moaned around his cock at the desperation and lust in his voice.
"So fucking good for me. You suck my cock so well with your little whore mouth." He gripped your hair tighter but still not enough to hurt.
Him lying there, moaning and groaning as you pleased him made you all the more impossibly wet, you could feel it as you squeezed your thighs together.
"Please come here." He asked as he released your hair and sat up.
As you let his cock leave your mouth and too sat up only for him to lift and drag you onto his lap once again. He reached down and guided his cock into your entrance.
As you lowered yourself onto him he made a noise that should've stopped your heart.
It was a moan and a sigh all at once, he combined that with dropping his head onto your shoulder. The fullness and warmth of his cock inside of you, every little move he made, he was all just too much. How could you survive something like this a second time, especially with being this close to him.
He didn't move even an inch for a moment, not until he lifted his head off of your body and peered at you with those inky black eyes through his just as inky dark hair.
His net movements were fast, rough, and hard. He grabbed your hair from behind, forcing your head as far back as it could go without breaking anything. Your chest was arched towards him and he used it to his advantage by taking a nipple into his mouth as he bucked his hips into you quickly. All you could do was grip his shoulders for dear life as he fucked into you, fingernails sinking deeper and deeper into his muscular flesh the closer he pushed you to your high.
You felt the little sharp sting of him pinching your nipple between his teeth. You couldn't help but fall completely apart as you moaned out the filthiest curse words that you could.
Once he let your hair go and you could properly look at him, you saw beads of dark liquid forming on his shoulders. Your nails and grip had drawn blood, real human blood.
All you could do was stare. He bled just like you, he was vulnerable just like you, just like anyone else.
"Hm?" He caught your staring but seemed confused.
"I-I hurt you. I'm sorry." You furrowed your eyebrows with guilt.
He laughed, it was a real laugh, not a teasing one, not an unamused snort. His nose crinkled and his more prominent two front teeth were made more visible.
"It didn't hurt, I didn't even know you did it." He tried to get a look at the little droplets himself before wiping one away with his finger to show there was no mark left, he had somehow healed.
Each fleeting glimpse of his humanity vanished as soon as you spotted it.
His dick was beginning to soften inside of you despite him not getting off yet.
"Did you want to kiss it and make it better for me?" His voice was seductively playful and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not until he brought his blood-smeared fingertips to your lips.
You looked him in the eyes as you took them into your mouth and sucked them clean. He looked satisfied and you could feel his dick twitch back to life inside of you, showing you how much he liked that. Without a second thought, you attached your mouth to his shoulder and began to lick and cuck at the blood droplets where the wounds once were. The moment reminded you of when you were a child and they told you that wine was the blood of Christ, except this was so much better. You wanted to show him you were willing to take him in any way possible, to submit to every desire he had.
He pushed his now hard cock as far as it would go into you.
"I want to do something to you." He whispered as he continued to slowly thrust.
"Do it." Your reply was fast.
"It's going to hurt you." He added.
"Do it."
“I will. For now, shut up and bounce on my cock, slut.” his tattooed hand grabbed throat “ and you better fucking ride it harder and faster than you did that stupid Jesus loving freak.” his face read of disgust.
“Yes daddy,” you replied trying to hide the smirk at the satisfaction on his face from you calling him that.
He dropped his hand from your neck and you began to move your hips as he laid back. You would normally start slow, but you let him have it. Everything about him was incomparable to anyone you’ve ever slept with.
“Fuck, like that baby.” His hair was messy, his eyes were squeezed shut and his tattoo that looked like a snake that wrapped around his torso almost looked like it was slithering. 
“You like that daddy? I took every inch of your big cock just for you.” you loved the power over him that he was letting you have and you were going to make sure you got to enjoy it.
His hand shot to your hip and he squeezed.
“I swear If you fucking make me cum right now you’ll fucking pay for it,” he grunted obviously trying to hold back seeing as his hand was digging into your skin as if it was the last lifeline between him and losing it.
“Don’t you want to cum in my pussy daddy? Fill it full of cum and watch it drip out of me?” you continued to tease him and bring him even closer as you jackhammered up and down on his rock hard dick.
“Fuck, this is your last damn warning bitch.” his jaw was clenched, but it was too late, you were already falling apart on top of him, once again saying the dirtiest shit you could as he shuttered under you, barely hanging on as he watched you cum.
You paused, breathing heavily for a moment of rest, but it didn't last long. He was pulling out of you and throwing you face down on the bed, holding your hands by the wrists behind your back.
“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” 
“Sorry, dadd-”
“Did I say you could speak bitch?”
He wasn’t even inside you anymore but you’re empty walls clenched as you let out a small moan onto the bed sheets.
“Now let’s see just how fucking much you’re willing to take. Be good for me darling.”
You were scared but excited at the same time, the adrenaline that coursed through your veins was nothing like you’ve ever felt before.
“Yes daddy.”
“Don’t fucking move.”
You listened and stayed completely still.
You felt his hand cover the back of your neck. It got warmer and warmer until it felt searingly hot, it was burning your skin. You bit down on your lip so hard it had to have left a bruise just to keep from screaming. There was no way of stopping the whimpers that came from you in the few seconds that his hand was on your skin.
“There,” he said and sounded as though he was admiring his work before releasing your body and letting you sit up. By the time you sat up though, the pain was entirely gone as if it had never even happened.
“It’s the mark, to match.” you knew he meant that he had just branded you with an upside-down cross to match his and your son’s. You were too busy noticing the wetness on your cheeks and wondering where they had come from to concentrate on this strange sentimental moment.
You felt something warm roll down your cheek and lifted a hand to wipe away what you now realized were tears, but he gently grabbed your wrist.
With his other hand went to your chin and guided your head to face him.
You were met face to face with him, his dark eyes peering into yours and also assessing your wet cheeks.
Both hands now went to your cheeks and his thumbs wiped over the wet mess on your skin. 
He was trying to dry your tears.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” his voice was quiet. It was a glimmer of sincerity, a splinter of sweetness.
“I didn’t even feel it.” you joked but he didn’t buy it or laugh, instead he just continued to stare into your eyes with both hands on your face.
He leaned in so slowly, head tilting slightly and his lips met yours so gently. Your eyes closed and pressed your lips harder into his.
It was a sweet kiss but it held the strength and intensity of being punched in the stomach.
Your hands came up to roam the back of his shaggy, dark hair but your mind was elsewhere.
You imagined him as an average man, your son as a normal little boy, you imagined a family. Cuddling on the couch, touching him whenever you pleased, your son being able to play with his father, your life with him would never grow dull. However, your daydreams were dashed as your hand accidentally met with a horn. 
What was wrong with you? You knew these things were stupid and unattainable, he was unattainable. Although you had known this fact from the start, here you were sleeping with him again. He fucked you over so hard, he was pure evil and you knew it, but yet here you were falling for him even harder. To be fair though, was there a soul living or dead that could resist him, that ever has been able to?
You pulled away, his hands left your face.
He looked at you with wide eyes, he looked almost shocked, scared. There was some kind of very deep feeling moment between the both of you, some kind of wordless exchange of revelations. 
A million things you wanted to say to him flooded your mind at this moment. There were so many things you wanted answers to ”Do you know how miserable I was? Do you know what it felt like waiting for you in fear the entire time? Do you know how much I hate not being able to hate you? Do you know how bad it hurts me seeing your face in my son’s? Do you know how badly you ruined my entire adult life? Do you know how hurtfully perfect you look? Do you know how lucky and cursed I feel all at once? Do you feel any weight for the things you've done to me and my family?” but you were too scared this moment would end, that he would never come back, that he would take your son and leave. You wanted to cry, but you pushed the entire internal war out of your mind, you boxed it all away just to not ruin this moment.
During your thoughts and your stares at one another, his face had softened and his eyebrows furrowed.
“Y/n” you realized that it was the first time he had ever spoken your name out loud, and as beautiful as it had sounded coming from his lips, you didn't want to hear it spoken so guilt filled. “I’m so sor-”
"Are you going to make me cum again or not?" You broke the silence, and he seemed thrown off for a moment. You didn't know what he was apologizing for, but you didn't want to know. Not only did you want to shut this sad moment down just to have the fun back, but something inside of you hurt to hear and see him like this.
An expression you were familiar with him having flickered onto his face, a smirk. It relieved you and set the fire in your body back alight.
He tackled you with his hands wrapped around you. You were flesh to flesh, his lips moving to the space above your breasts, sucking hard before moving onto another are.
“Dont fuck anyone else.” it wasn't sharp like his normal demands, it was almost as if he was asking you not to without making it into a real question.
You almost snorted as he continued making an army of marks that continued to trail lower and lower.
You almost snorted sarcastically.
“Then who the Hell am I supposed to fuck?”
“Me, fuck me.”
You did sarcastically laugh at this one. 
“Don't laugh at me.” he said defensively before sucking a new place by your belly button.
“What? Every few years you’ll swing by and I just have to wait until then?”
“No. Are you even enjoying this anymore or have you now set your focus on calling me out?” he looked up at you with an arched brow.
“Calling you out seems more fun right now.” you were only half joking, all of that hurt hfrom earlier was now festering back up to the surface upon hearing his stupid lies.
“I told you I’d talk, and I will. Trust me.” he sat up and looked down at you.
“I’ve trusted you before and that was shitty.” you argued.
“Then why the fuck are you fucking me now? Why the fuck are you letting me mark you? Why the fuck are you telling me you belong to me?” he shot back.
“BECAUSE I WANT TO PRETEND YOU'RE NOT… NOT...I DON’T KNOW...THE ACTUAL FUCKING DEVIL!” you whisper yelled at him through clenched teeth.
He came down over you and looked you in the eyes for a moment with such a look you thought he might kill you, but instead his voice was quiet and calm.
“If you think I’m incapable of feeling then you’re wrong, you're dead wrong. If I didn’t feel, then why would I want my son? Why have I been watching him grow, watching you love and take care of him and doing my best not to interfere with your time with him. I may not be mortal but I have feelings, I have empathy. Do you understand the shit I have to see and be in charge of? Do you know what it feels like to just want something so pure in good while living in something so fucked? Watching you and our son has been the only sliver of heaven that I’ve ever been able to have.” his arms were shaking as he held himself over you. You had never seen his body show any signs of tiredness or weakness, even his wounds had healed right up. He was shaken talking about this and it was obvious.
It hit you hard. Why would he want to take him? Why did all of this just make sense?
“So please, don’t take this away from me right now. Let me make you cum again, let me just have this for a little longer and we can talk.”
You were stunned. He had felt the same way, he wanted to drag this out just as much as you did, he wanted to cherish this. The question now in the air was, if you both wanted to be together, then why couldn't you?
You yanked him by the hair, forcing his lips to collide with yours. Your tongue clashed with his split one, but it no longer surprised you or made you nervous. While little about him was normal, what was normal anyway? From the moment you saw him as he really was you had thought he was perfect, so why until now had you been wishing for him to be the man you first saw at the bar? Was it because the puzzle piece of his humanity had been missing in an otherwise perfect puzzle?
Your teeth gnashed together as if you were young, new lovers blooming with anticipation, as if you had never touched before now, despite fucking for god knows how long already.
He bit at your already sore lip you had bitten down on, but he wasn't harsh.
“I want you.” you told him meaning more than just how he took it. He reached between both of you and pushed himself into your already abused core, you winced from the ache and the sensitivity.
“Close your eyes” his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear his instruction.
You closed them though.
“Now imagine me like you.”
“Why?” you asked.
“Humor me.” 
You did, you imagined him like he was the night of the bar, like you had thought of him earlier.
“Now run your hands through my hair.”
With your eyes still closed, you felt for his hair before coming them through the soft, wavy strands. Your eyes opened just to make sure what you were feeling was correct. As you looked at his hornless head, his brown eyes looked down at you. Now you properly looked him in the eyes and now that you could see his irises, you knew now that he was looking right at you, not just at you though. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen with a small smile of amusement.
“I just wanted to have this moment with you, like you. I thought it would mean something to you to not have to look into cold, black pits.” 
The man looking and speaking to you right now was not the devil, he wasn't horrible or evil but neither was the man he was before but you were yet to know why he did the things he did.
You lifted your neck this time to kiss him and his lips chased yours as you laid back onto the pillow. He once again slowly began to thrust, short breaths and quiet moans escaped you both. Your legs entangled around his hips, angling your own body so he could hit just the right place.
“Be with me.” his voice shook as he continued to thrust “I’ll do anything.” he sounded just so weak as if he were pleading.
“I’m already yours, don't pretend you don't know that.”
“Let's have a family then, I’ll stay.” he rested his forehead on top of yours, his eyes were closed, hips still moving hard cut slow as if with each powerful but passionate thrust was a chance to convince you to be with him.
“As-” you could feel yourself coming closer and struggling harder to catch your breath. “As long as you stay.” You knew it, if he went away, if you lost him tonight, nothing would ever feel this good again, you'd never feel this complete for as long as you lived.
“Let's start now on expanding.” you could see his slight smile before his voice turned serious and sultry.” want me to put another baby in you?”
“Please, fuck I’m so close.”
“Come on baby, cum for me one more time.” he picked up the pace with his hips up just a little more. “Let me get you pregnant again.”
He only thrust into you a few more times before you were coming undone underneath him.
“Fuck, I love you fuck fuck fuck.” you moaned as he also let go, burying himself deeper than he already had been.
“I love you, I love you too.” he messily kissed your lips as you felt his last few pumps slow.
Only when he had said it back did you realize you had said it at all. 
You were still breathing heavily as he pulled out and laid down next you. There was silence between you, for a while as you both recovered.
"I said I would talk so here it is."
You decided to just lay there and listen to him.
"I've always known we were supposed to be together, always. There are things I just know, I can't explain it, sometimes I just know destiny and sometimes I don't until certain events happen. Ever since I became the king of hell I've always known that eventually there would be one woman that would bring me to my knees. They call her Lilith, although that's not her name just as satan, the devil, whatever, isn't mine. There have been stories and mythology written about you that just aren't true, much like everything else in my life. When I met your mother, I knew I was fucked. So I stopped you from being able to conceive, how was I supposed to know I was only helping destiny along? When you summoned me I was nervous, although curious as to what you would be like, I never watched you until you began to work on summoning me. I developed a plan. I thought if I just gave you what you wanted and then took it away from you then you would hate me, you would never want to see me again, but yet again I plated into destiny. The moment I saw my son… when I watched you care for him and love him, I-I felt this longing. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to be with you both. I kept my distance and fought against the urge to just drop in and tell you how I felt. I resented you for the power you held over me, but at the same time I wanted to give you your space and let you have your time with him. I was still going to take him but at that point it was out of love. I knew you were still angry with me anyway, rightfully so, I also thought… that you couldn't love someone like me anyway, you were better off with a mortal and I wanted to let you live your life. I watched your pathetic attempts to protect our son from me, at least you thought you were only trying to protect him. You're a good mother, just like yours was. When our son was really little I used to sneak into his nursery and just hold him and stare at him, I could see you in him. The point where I knew I had to step in was the priest. Not only did he treat my son like his, not only did you fuck him and make me jealous but-"
He abruptly wet quiet just as the anger in his voice seemed to pick up.
"I'm sorry." You replied.
"It's not that, it's not any of that that makes me hate him, it's not my jealousy." He still didn't say what it was, but instead he got out of bed.
"Where are you going?" You sat straight up.
"I'm going to shower if that's okay." He replied as he shuffled for the bathroom attached to your room.
"Sure." He was already in there by the time you uttered out your dumbstruck reply.
He had said he would stay, you don't know why him doing average things in your home just astounded you.
You laid back in the bed with the reassurance of him planning to stay and you thought about it all.
At first you asked yourself what your mother would think of this, what she would say. Maybe if she knew everything that he had just told you she simply wouldn't say anything at all. She had been able to love the devil's son and see him for just the little boy he really was, so maybe she would've done the same for the devil himself had she really known him.
You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the stickiness of his speed leaking out and smearing all over your thighs.
Some part of you was nervous to go into the bathroom with him showering in there, but it was your house.
You ran to the bathroom as fast as it could to keep the cum from dripping everywhere and making a mess on the floor.
You paused as you caught a glimpse of his silhouette through the shower curtain.
His horns had returned, but you didn't look at him as much as his overall shape, you could help your staring.
"I hear your heart again, are you looking at me?" He chuckled and your eyes went wide with the horror of being caught.
"I…"
"Do you want in here with me?"
"...y-yes?" 
"Get in, I promise to just let you shower, no funny business." He offered.
He kept his word though, he did his own thing in the shower and so did you. He did look jarringly beautiful with the water beading on his tattooed skin and muscles, but you didn't know how much more your body could physically handle of him so you kept your hands to yourself.
He got out of the shower before you, you were a little concerned at the silence so you got out soon after.
You found a fresh towel and pajamas waiting for you on the bathroom sink so you quickly dressed.
He just sat there in a white t-shirt and black sweat pants at the foot of your bed. His head was down and he looked to be in deep thought as he stared at the floor. He looked a little sad.
"Have you seen him since you've been here?" You asked curiously, making him finally look up and shake his head.
"Would you like to?"
He seemed shocked by your offer.
"I wouldn't want to wake him…" 
"It's alright, he's a good sleeper, he'll go back to bed… if you want to that is."
"I really really want to, I haven't seen him person to person since he was a newborn."
You led him down the hall and pushed open your son's cracked bedroom door.
His night light dimly lit the form of his little body snuggled in his toddler sized bed.
You let his father take a few apprehensive steps into the room, slowly approaching him before he knelt on the floor by the bed.
You just looked on at the little moment.
He gently pushed his son's shaggy hair from his sleeping face, but caused him to stir.
"Daddy?" You heard your son's sleepy voice ask. You had no idea how he knew it was his father, and from the look on his father's face, neither did he.
"Hey buddy." 
Your son sat up and threw his arms around his father's neck, who promptly picked him up and stood. He wrapped his arms around the little boy, holding him close.
"How did you know it was me?" 
Your son unwrapped his arms from his father and looked at his face.
You saw his lips begin to quiver and his eyes fill with tears as he started to break down.
"Oh no." You whispered as you saw your boy stare at the horns on his father's head.
"Your horns are scaring him." You whispered.
Your son patted the top of his own head as he sobbed in his father's arms.
"Me too, I too."
"Oh." You said as you realized that your son was answering his dad.
"You have them too? That's how you knew, huh?"
Your son nodded to his father and began to cry harder. His dad pulled him back into his body, lightly shushing him and patting his back. He buried his head in the little boy's hair much like you had the day in your car after he was horrifically baptized.
The moment hit you like a train.
He had missed his father all this time, and you had no idea.
"you know I'm always with you, right? You and mommy both." 
Your son nodded into his father's neck, soaking his shirt with tears although his father didn't seem to mind at all.
"I know you hear me sometimes. You know I'm here." 
Your son pulled away from him again to look at him.
"Daddy-" his words were cut off by upset hiccups from crying so hard "no leave."
"I'm not. I'll stay, I promise." 
His father knelt back down on the floor and attempted to lay the boy back in his bed, but his little hands stayed locked around him.
"I'll be here when you wake up, and all of the rest of the days when you wake up from now on, you can let go, I'll be right here."
Your son finally relinquished his hold on his father who pushed more hair from his son's face.
"And mommy?" Your son's eyes look at you now.
"Mommy has always been here, silly." His father then spoke something in a strange language, it might've been the one from your dream after your son was born.
Your son gave his father a nod not just as if he understood, but he did understand this very strange language. You had never heard your son speak it, and you had no idea that he even knew a whole other language, until he spoke it back to his father.
He sat there knelt beside his son's bed until he drifted off to sleep. You watched as he gave him a kiss on his forehead before standing and turning to face you.
You walked into the hall and closed your son's bedroom door when he looked at you with a look of concern.
"There's still more I have to tell you, it's the most important thing."
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"You're going to have to trust me, okay?" He asked from his seat on the sofa beside you. "There are things I know and things I don't, you have the power to change destiny, and right now what I'm seeing is someone is going to try to take you away from us, from your family."
"Okay," you tried to patiently follow, ready for him to say anything.
"Namjoon is going to kill you."
"Why's he going to kill me?" 
"I had this deal with his whore grandmother… she wasn't happy with it, it wasn't my fault. It's not my fault mortals are idiots."
"Hey." You firmly snapped at him.
"It's just what I do, I teach lessons. Anyway, I believe Namjoon is going to hurt you and maybe even our son. He can't physically harm me, I'm immortal, but he can hurt the things I care about. Unfortunately, I can't kill him either, I can't kill humans, God's rules. So I can't stop him, there's nothing I can do but pass this to you. It doesn't matter what you do, Namjoon will hunt you down."
"Okay." You simply just sat there looking calm on the outside but terrified on the inside.
"So, y/n… I think it's kill or be killed in this case. If you die, I'm not sure how much I can do to protect our son but take him with me…" 
To hell was what he meant.
You let out a sigh as you stared at the floor and scraped together some kind of plan.
"Take my soul." You offered.
"Why?"
"In case something happens to me, take my soul." You were sure of your decision.
"I'm not taking your soul." He declined.
"Why?" It was your turn now to ask.
"Do you want to go to hell? Do you realize how many eternities you would be tortured down there before I ever found you?" 
"No." You answered both questions and seemed less sure of your offer now.
"I'm not taking your soul. Our son could come and go with me because he has that power, but you, a pure mortal… you would be in more pain than you could ever imagine." 
"But if I killed a man… wouldn't I go anyway?" You pointed out.
"Not if it was out of self defense for you and your family."
"What the fuck am I saying?! I can't kill father Namjoon!" You realized.
"Y/n, I know he's going to kill you, and I don't want to lose you, I'd do anything not to lose you. What about our son? What about our second child?"
Your mouth dropped open.
"Second child? It-we…?"
"It's not just you living in that mortal body anymore. I know, just like I did the moment I gave you our son. You have to live, you have to do this, you have to trust me."  He reached for your hand and threaded his fingers through yours. "I love you and I need you here with us."
"How do I do it?" You gave in.
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You were terrified as the phone rang.
You had just left your son with the babysitter and you sat in your car. You were alone but you felt him near you.
"Hey!" Namjoon's voice came through cheerfully and it made you feel sick.
"Hey, I'm not doing so great tonight. Everything is a bit heavy and I kind of want some fresh air. Would you go for a walk with me at the park? I know it's late but…" 
"Of course. The one closest to where you live, right? I'll meet you there in a few."
You thanked him before hanging up.
"I'm sorry you have to do this." He appeared right beside you in the passenger's seat now, but you didn't look at him, instead you spaced out while looking out the window at the dark park. You were nervous, you were trying to ready yourself, you were trying to wrap your head around this situation.
"What happens after? What do I do right after?" You asked.
"I'll take care of everything. No one will know." The grim thought of what that entailed was shadowed by reassurance of only having one task to do. "You just wait in the car, I'll drive us home. I'll take care of you." 
"What if he sees this opportunity to kill me like I do with him?" You asked with your hands shaking in your lap.
"I think he would wait for a moment when our son is with you, pick you off at the same time." 
Your mouth was dry, but you still tried to swallow down the weight of his words.
"But what if I die? You said you don't know all things." You continued to think your worries out loud.
"I also said people can change destiny, they do it all the time." 
"You haven't been able to." Your point made him go silent a moment. It was true, he had been fighting against his destiny with you since before you were born only to end up with you.
"Part of me didn't want to change it, even if I hated it at first. I've always wanted you. The first time I saw you I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. The first time you saw me, I just wanted you to look at me that way forever, I didn't care about anything anymore and that was scary. You're my Lilith, my eternal soulmate, there was never any fighting you. There's nothing more powerful than what we have, not me, not god himself."
"What if you're tricking me?" You asked abruptly.
"You really think I would?" His voice sounded hurt and you could feel him looking at you as you said nothing "of course you do, of course you'd think that after what I've done and because of who I am." His voice was soft now like he had accepted that option "I wish I could take back what I did to you, everything I've done to you. I wish I never would've made that deal with your mother, I wish you would've had a family with a normal man, a normal life… what have I done?"
"Like you said" you sighed "it was supposed to happen anyway, it's not all on you. I've suffered for you, and now I'm going to kill for you. Would I be doing that- any of this if I really thought you were tricking me?" You admitted. "Maybe I'm just blinded by you, so in love with you and wanting a family with you that I can't see anything else, you're the devil, it's probably what you do, but what other option do I have anyway?" 
"We could go home." He offered softly. "We could have our family and play pretend until it's ripped away." You could hear him swallow louder than his soft words."Then I'll have nothing, but at least I would've had everything for just a fraction of a moment in my eternal life."
"I'm not going to live forever anyway you know, our son might, but I'm human. I die, and when I do I'm destined to be tortured in hell for eternity." 
"You're not going to hell." 
"How do you know?" You asked partially out of curiosity "I'm in love with Satan, I bare his mark, I bared his child. How much more sinful can I be? You can't sit there and tell me Satan's soulmate is going to heaven."
"God has never let me have anything. If he decides it's your destiny and your time to go, if you're taken from me and I can't have you in life, he's not going to let me have you in death." He explained.
You sat there thinking about what he said and came to the very real conclusion that you were most likely going to die tonight. God wouldn't let him have you, he had already seen that Namjoon would kill you, you were going to die. 
Your eyes began to fill with tears as everything finally began to sink in.
"Please take care of our son." 
"Don't." He snapped at you "Don't you say that shit like I'm going to lose you."
You began to sob, you weren't listening to him.
"You're going to go out there and fuck him up and that's going to be the end of it." His voice was stern, but you were falling apart. You let your head fall onto the steering wheel.
"Why wont you just take my fucking soul?!" You cried in despair and frustration "you have every single fucking thing in my life but that, just take it god damn it! Take it and let me burn until you find me. I will obviously go through anything for you and our son at this point. Just fucking take it." 
"You don't deserve it. I don't deserve you, okay? I've fucking destroyed your life, I'm not dragging this into the timeless afterlife, no matter how badly it hurts. We have one single shot, and this is it. I'm fucking horrible, I'm the worst of the absolute worst, but there’s no way I'm going to be that selfish to let you rot in hell because of me." 
"Please?" Your voice was a desperate squeak as you finally turned to him. "Fuck." You uttered at what you saw.
There was a dark liquid running from his pitch black eyes and down his cheeks.
"Is-is that fucking blood? Are you crying blood?" 
You watched as it pooled at his chin and dropped onto his white shirt.
"Please do everything you can tonight." He ignored your question and begged you.
If you had a doubt that he loved you before, you didn't now. You watched as he closed his eyes.
"God," he began, he didn't seem as though he was talking to you at all "just let me have this, please? I'll do anything. Just let me have my family."
The dark car was suddenly illuminated by headlights coming from behind. You turned to see a car pulling into the parking lot.
"I'll be with you." He spoke as Namjoon parked beside your car.
The passenger's seat was empty when you looked back.
This was it.
You felt for the pocket knife you had put in your pocket upon leaving the house and your adrenaline began to rush through your body.
You willed your weak legs to get out of the car.
You forced a half-hearted smile but did your best not to look him in the eyes.
It was quiet at first as you both started down the dark trail.
"Don't get offended, but you look terrible." 
You hadn't slept since you had gotten your mission yesterday night, your mind felt fried and stressed and tired.
"It's been hard." You were honest about how you felt.
"Why is your lip bruised? Did you get hit?" He pried as you thought back to how hard you had bit it the other night.
"No, I did it, by accident." Although it was the truth, you wouldn't have believed it either with the way you had said it.
"Are-are you seeing anyone? It's been a few days since we talked and-"
"No." You lied quickly.
"If there's anything I can do to help you or your son… I know things are still rough for you…" 
"We'll be okay." 
He gave you a strange look.
"You're not still worried about… him?" You could hear the suspension in Namjoon's voice and you knew you had to say something to extinguish it for now.
"I am, I just don't know what's left to do, I feel so hopeless." You said as you saw the path begin to lead into a more wooded area ahead.
"Don't you feel him right now?" Namjoon asked.
"He's always just… around, I'm used to it. Maybe it's just me at this point." 
"What's that on your neck?" He reached out to see.
You had to do it now, you felt like your mark had given you away.
You stepped back out of his grasp as you quickly took the knife from your pocket and flipped it open. You didn't know if he had time to see it or not before you lunged at him.
He had put his hands up to stop you but the force you had come at him sent him toppling backward. 
You went to plunge the knife into his neck only to feel his hand around your wrist stopping you.
He yelled for help but there wasn't another soul at the park, you had been here awhile waiting, you would know.
You used your other hand to help overpower him, but he was still stronger even with all of this adrenaline and chemicals coursing through your body, even with the image of your family in your mind.
"Stop!" Namjoon yelled at you, but this was too far gone to stop now, your mind was already made up. You knew that if you stopped now then you would be the one who died.
Your arms were beginning to grow tired and your strength was weakening and because of that he was able to shift the point of the knife towards you.
In one last burst of strength you tried to switch the knife's direction back towards him but your muscles just gave out.
You didn't feel the pain of the plunge into your chest at first, but you felt the crack of your ribs at the sheer force. You were in shock, it didn't feel at all like you had just been stabbed. You let go of Namjoon and rolled over onto the cool grass as you tried to process everything.
You could hear Namjoon panicking, sitting over you, trying to help you,  it was confusing.
Why was he trying to help you? He wanted you dead.
"Please? Where are you?" You choked out. It was hard to breathe, you felt like you were drowning as you looked up at the stars.
"Get away from her." It was the only voice you wanted to hear, it had brought you some kind of peace.
You saw Namjoon look at something with wide eyes before leaving your line of vision. His quick footsteps on the ground you lay on got further and further away. 
You continued to choke and gasp.
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Jungkook watched in the distance as the knife was turned on you and the blade disappeared in your chest.
It hadn't hurt until now. It was as if you were his voodoo doll. He had never felt pain before, but once he felt the sting, he knew exactly what it was, although his pain came from the inside. Until now he had been watching coldly, waiting for this to happen, knowing you would die.
You had to die, there was no other way you'd let him have his son, there was no way you'd let your son end this world. You were too compassionate, too human, too emotional. You were all the things Jungkook never thought he was. Perhaps you completed him in many ways he only was now able to realize.
He was able to fool you so well, tell you all the sweet things you needed to hear to lead you to your own demise. But why did it only now hurt him? Had it been so easy to lie to you because maybe somewhere deep down in his unbeating heart he knew that maybe you really were the one? He felt as though that as you laid there dying, that you were forcing your most human parts into him, you were cursing him.
He had never actually thought you were his Lilith, his soulmate, not until now as he watched you bleeding out and physically felt it. He felt the weight of every sweet thing and lie he had ever told you pressing on his chest. Your face, the sweet moments, holding you, the guilt of never telling you his name, everything flashed before him. He wondered for a moment if he was dying too.
"I have given you a gift, the gift to feel.Your heart is broken, child. Go to her, be with her in her last breaths before I bring her home."
It wasn't even a voice that Jungkook heard, but it wasn't in his head either. He knew who was speaking to him. He suddenly felt enraged. He wasn't going to let God take you away from him.
"Get away from her." Jungkook boomed making the silly mortal that was panicking over you run at the sight and power of his voice.
Jungkook knelt down beside you and watched as the blood flowed from the corners of your mouth and tears streamed from your eyes.
"He's not going to take you from me! God damn it! Please don't take her!" Jungkook knew you wouldn't go to hell, god himself had said so. You did nothing wrong, you had been fooled by him just like Eve had been, and Eve still went to heaven when she died. He would never see you again and it hit him harder than anything ever had before.
Jungkook  lifted his hand, the one he hadn't unknowingly slipped through your fingers, and produced a flame which gave way to a scroll of paper.
He pulled you into his lap as you continued to choke. He put your hand to your wound and dipped your fingers into your blood.
"It's okay, it's going to be fine, please just sign it, you have to move, sign it." He let go of your hand but it was limp. There was no more choking, only a faint rattling coming from you now.
"Please please just sign the paper." He begged. "I'm so sorry, I was wrong, I did this and I'm so sorry. It hurts so badly, sign the paper, I need your soul, I need to find you." 
Silence.
There was no hummingbird heartbeat, there was no heartbeat at all as he looked into your empty eyes that still looked back at him. Your body lay in his lap with the mark he had given you, but you were gone. 
“But I love you...” it was the first time in his existence that he had said it and meant it. You had never known he didn't mean it, you had never known everything he did was a lie, maybe it was best that way. Despite not feeling any of it before, he felt it now, all at once. If he could do it all over again just to mean it, just to experience those feelings along with you he would. He would have held you longer, cried more, he wouldn't have ever let you do this, he wouldn't have fed you those dreams and lies and he would have protected you. Namjoon never wanted to hurt you.
All Jungkook wanted to do now was hold you, so he did until you grew cold. It wasn't fair he only got to feel this after you were gone as punishment. He wanted to go back, he wanted to start over, but it was too late. What kind of cruel god would gift him with his now?
His chest continued to sting, as his anger continued to fester. He hated everything, God, Namjoon, himself, this horrible fucking mortal world. 
He was going to burn it all. He never wanted to make another deal with any human ever again.
Whilst he couldn't touch these stupid fucking humans, his son could, he was half human.
This wasn't supposed to happen for another few years. He didn't think his son was old enough just yet, but it would have to do, he was still naive enough to destroy humanity on his father's command. All he had to do was show his son what he was capable of, fill him with rage for his dead mother, and watch the world burn. All Jungkook knew was fire and destruction, now his son could learn as well, both of them with a bitterness in their hearts.
Jungkook let out a loud scream of anger and frustration and all of these new feelings that he didn't want that felt like they were internally ripping him apart. 
The entire park was sent up in flames, including your body.
The end was coming early for this world, it was over. He was going to destroy every last one of God's precious creations for making him feel like this.
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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years
Note
Pillar men during their heat?
What will their s/o do?
Me: *opens my ask box and sees this*
My brain: *CARELESS WHISPER BLARES*
You got it Anon! 😘🥰😇 Big stronk Himbos feeling the big feelings coming right up!
Pillarmen (separate) in heat and their s/o's reaction...
(Under the cut for length!)
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Kars:
• On the norm, Kars wasn't overly affectionate with you.
• Sure, he had his times; like when he would put an arm around you when sitting on the couch or when he held you in his lap on occasion while he worked.
• You'd also get rewarded with some sweet little kisses during your daily routines.
• But really, he wasn't really a clingy creature...
• Well... not until his heat strikes, that is.
• When undergoing heat, oh boy, this hulking Pillarman's cold and collected demeanor practically melts away to reveal a cuddly, purring kitten.
• The first time he underwent his heat cycle around you, you knew something was definitely different... yet you couldn't place what.
• "Kars, I have to get ready for wooork..." you whined softly, squirming in his hold under the covers.
• Normally, when you woke up he would already have left to do some work of his own or you two would exchange some loving words and kisses for a brief moment before getting up to start the day.
• But this morning you were pleasantly surprised to wake up to him clinging to you, humming and peppering your face and shoulders with soft kisses.
• You honestly didn't want to ruin such a moment, most especially when it was such a sweet cuddly moment with Kars, but you had been laying here with him for over an hour and you really had to go or else you'd be late!
• The Pillarman only held you tighter in his arms, curling around you almost protectively and nuzzling into your neck; your protests and pushing were helpless against him.
• "Hmmm, no need." He hummed, a tendril of curly violet hair tickled your nose as he snuggled you in his vice-like embrace. "I already called in for you, dear one."
• Needless to say, he wasn't letting you go anywhere anytime soon.
• Another thing; Kars wasn't a man to beg (for anything at all really) most especially attention.
• From ANYONE.
• Usually, he was the one laying back with a smirk; lavishing in any and all of your pleas to have him hold YOU and him give YOU attention.
• He just found it absolutely delicious when someone became needy over him; being not only a gorgeous man but a ruler and Ultimate lifeform as well; your pleas for his touch only fed his ego.
• However, when Kars was in heat, he almost became a completely different person.
• "Kars, please, I just need to get these dishes done first..." you sighed, trying to focus as you were elbow deep in dishware and suds.
• The gargantuan Pillarman clinging to your back and nuzzling you did nothing to help as you tried to complete the task.
• "Oh come now, please? Please, can we snuggle on the couch? I'll put on your favourite show~" he whined, the vibrations of his chest sent trembles down your spine as he begged.
• "After dishes," You told him, trying to be firm but crumbling. "Pleeeeease, beloved one? I haven't seen you all day, my sunshine, and I've missed you so~ We can finish them later, together~" Kars hummed, digging his nose deeper into your neck.
• You were honesty starting to fear he had been replaced with an imposter of some kind.
• KARS SUS
• It becomes obvious to him that you're not understanding what'sgoing on and it's not long after when Kars follows his natural urges and gets to building a suitable nest.
• If you didn't understand his madness before, he fully intended to make you with this.
• You come Home from work one afternoon to find the Livingroom essentially turned into one giant blanket fort; pillows laid strewn about across the cushioned floor.
• The most notable thing about it all was the Pillarmen laying in the midst of all of it... in all his glory.
• "Come and join me, dearest~" he purred, gazing at you through hungry crimson eyes as you stood there gawking in the doorway. "I've been waiting~"
• Even though you still don't understand, this time you find you can't refuse him. Definitely not while he's licking his lips like that...
• You'll have to call in to work again tomorrow ;)
Esidisi:
• When Esidisi undergoes one of his heat cycles, it's best described that he becomes a hot mess.
• Even more of a hot mess than usual that is...
• The man was already a very emotional person but somehow, he became even more emotional when in heat.
• You started to suspect something was wrong with him when you came downstairs one morning only to be immediately met with a spine cracking embrace and a flood of tears.
• He was going on a sobbing rant about how he was so happy to spend his mornings with you, his Mate, and that you were wonderful in every way and the very light of his life.
• Normally, he only got this emotional when watching Cat videos.
• You also couldn't help but notice that he's burning even hotter than his usual warmth.
• Normally, he just felt like one big muscular electric blanket; radiating a comfortable warmth. But now he felt something akin to the scalding blast of heat that hits you in the face when opening the door to an oven.
• You practically had to wear oven mitts to lay hands on him now.
• You couldn't shake the feeling something was definitely off about him when he started leaving you little gifts lying around.
• The things he left ranged from clothing to food to trinkets and just general things you liked; all for you!
• Not to mention the fact he was being extra sweet, going out of his way to give you lots of kisses and loving, and even cooking you more meals and doing all of the chores.
• You appreciated the sentiment of it all but really, you were quite puzzled as to why he was putting so much investment in you. It wasn't a Holiday or your Birthday or anything...
• Little did you know you were also puzzling him.
• You were supposed to be taking interest in him!
• In his eyes, he was dropping obvious hints to his cycle; he took your confusion and lack of response to all of his offerings as somewhat of a rejectment and that actually hurt him enough to make him cry a little...
• He decides then that there's only one more thing he can do... he'll put together a most excellent nest for you! The best nest you'd ever seen!
• "Esidisi?" "Hmm?" He turned to look at you, doe-eyed, arms suspended in the air as he laid out another blanket on top of the growing pile.
• You were Home from work early and he still had much work to do yet!
• "What are you doing?" You questioned with a raised eyebrow. Not only was he rearranging your whole room, he had covered the entire space with blankets and pillows.
• He had even gone so far as to thoroughly douse the area in the perfume/cologne you always wore.
• "I'm making us a nest." He says, almost matter of factly. When you ask him why he's doing that, it floors him.
• Did you seriously not understand?! This entire time?!
• After he sits you down and explains himself, everything clicks with you and you actually feel terrible for not understanding sooner.
• You didn't realize his kind underwent natural cycles like this...
• You ask him if you can finish building the nest together, if this had to be done you wanted to help and have it be done right.
• His heart absolutely soars at your offer, making him teary eyed as he nods eagerly.
• However, you barely get the chance to finish it before you're both putting it to good use ;)
Wamuu:
• Throughout his many years living, Wamuu had always viewed his heat cycle as more of a distraction than anything; even though it was a completely natural phenomenon for the Pillarmen race.
• He had much difficulty focusing on training or fighting at all when it happened, making him feel quite useless.
• He always felt too mushy and needy during this time; things he viewed as shameful to see in him when he was supposed to be presenting himself to peers and enemies as a powerful foe.
• When heat struck, the Pillarman would simply hole himself up in his chamber, enduring the entirety of the cycle alone until it was over and done with.
• Eventually, when it passed and he was feeling his normal self he could go out again.
• However... things had changed now that you, his Mate, were thrown into the equation.
• You definitely knew something was different about him when it all started.
• On the norm, Wamuu was strong and he was a man to stand his ground as any proud, battle-hardened Warrior should.
• But when his heat struck... Wamuu became quite flighty.
• It seemed like the littlest of things would have him fleeing from the room; often in a blushing mess.
• He couldn't even sit through a simple kissing scene in a movie you two had been watching the other night.
• "Wamuu, what--" You blinked owlishly as a HUGE bouquet of red roses was pushed into your arms suddenly. It was as if he had picked you an entire field of them!
• "Flowers for you!" He said quickly, practically yelling, before taking off; out of the room and up the stairs. You couldn't see the flaming red in his face from over the massive bundle of flowers he had dumped on you.
• You couldn't help but realize he had a hard time to look you in the eye anymore. In fact, he seemed to break into a sweat if you even did something as little as touch him.
• You were seriously starting to worry that something was wrong with him.
• He on the other hand wasn't sure whether you wanted him or not during his heat and he was scared to act on his primal impulses.
• Usually, he liked to spend his free time with you watching TV or helping you around the household but he was spending more time upstairs, away from you; specifically in the spare room.
• You also took notice that there were a lot of blankets and pillows around the house missing but you didn't really focus on that as you were more worried about Wamuu and his strange behavior.
• After a few days of this, you decided to confront him.
• However, he got to you first; coming downstairs and sheepishly taking your hand, asking you to follow him.
• Wamuu had given into his primal instincts and had spent the last few days perfecting a nest for you both up in the spare room.
• You thought it was an impressive feat; he had turned the entire room into one big cushy and comfy heaven... but you didn't really understand why he had done this.
• Wamuu's eyes go huge when you ask him why. Did... Did Humans do such things for their Mates?
• HAD HE BEEN GOING ABOUT THIS ALL WRONG?!
• Poor Wamuu has to sit down and explain it all to you; his off behavior, most importantly the matter of you, the meaning of creating a nest and the cyles of his race behind it all...
• To his relief; you're very understanding and, even more to his relief, intrigued.
• Needless to say however, you and Wamuu don't leave the nest for a good little while afterward ;)
Santana:
• Much like Wamuu, Santana had often spent his years enduring his heat cycles in isolation.
• Nobody would see hide or hair of Santana from before it happened until the very end.
• The day before it struck he would simply pack up and leave to God-knows-where and stay there; sometimes he wouldn't even tell the others he was leaving.
• That being said; nobody (not even the other Pillarmen) knew what exactly Santana was like during the time of his heat cycle.
• Until you came along that was.
• You were Santana's Mate; the only proper reason for him to stay put when undergoing his heat.
• You'll begin to notice subtle changes, like the fact that Santana seems just a little more alert; attentive even.
• He brings you things before you even know that you want them; like snacks when you're starting to feel hungry or the cup of coffee you enjoy at noon.
• Somehow, he just seems to know.
• You'll also notice his fascination with your clothes or specifically the scent you leave on them.
• "Are you cold, Santana?" You question with a frown. Not only was he wearing your favorite hoodie, he was also wearing the baggy old T-Shirt you wore yesterday.
• Which was strange, as you knew Santana didn't really like clothing aside from the loincloth he wore.
• They were almost comically small on him, despite them being big clothes for you.
• He hummed, burying his face in the baggy neck of the hoodie; he felt as if he was surrounded by a Heavanly warm cloud of just you. "Hmmm, no."
• Surprisngly, it doesn't take long into the cycle for him to start constructing a nest.
• He takes things from all over the house; blankets, pillows, cushions, any stuffed animals or huggable plushies you have lying about, etc.
• Even if you happen to be sitting on them the moment he wants to add them to the growing pile upstairs, he just walks up and wordlessly takes them and then squirrels them away.
• If you happen to confront him on it, don't expect him to give you a detailed answer.
• "Santana, why are you taking the couch cushions?" "Because." "Because why?" "Because I have need of them." "Ok. Why do you need them?" "Because." "Because...?" "Just because." "Just because?" "Yes."
• Once his nest is all made up and deemed fit for you he goes looking for you.
• If you happen to be busy doing anything in the moment where he finds you, too bad.
• He just simply walks up and picks you up, squirreling you away to the nest like everything else as you were the most important thing to go in it.
• The explanation of everything can come later, much MUCH later; now was the time for action ;)
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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years
Text
Denying Feelings on the Tiled Floor (Masky X F!Reader)
[Masky X F!Reader]
[Warnings: blood, angst]
[AN: I genuinely dont think I've posted this here before but it's from my quotev and I want it here lots of love <3]
Tim can’t really describe the first moment he knew he felt something for you, only that he did. And he knew the risks that came along with having such feelings.
Hanahaki, it’s a terrible disease, really. Instead of giving flowers to the person you love, you grow them in your lungs. If the person that you’re so willingly throwing your affections at doesn’t return them, you die. The flowers cloud your lungs and unfurl, sprouting and taking root as they invade your chest, making it harder and harder to breathe until you eventually choke.
He wasn’t supposed to have feelings for anyone, especially as a proxy and even more so as a respectable group leader. His job is to guide and lead, not feel softly for someone who might never return his feelings. Tim doesn't really think he even deserves to have these type of warm feelings, if he’s being honest.
Not after he failed to protect Brian. Not after he failed to protect Amy. Not after he failed to protect Sarah. Not after he failed to save Alex. Not after he barely managed to protect Jessica. And certainly not after he failed to do right by and protect Jay. His existence was always bound to be one of suffering, not warm feelings and sly glances at someone he feels so deeply for.
He supposes that’s where the Hanahaki comes in from. He can’t just have warm feelings, he must suffer for those two. The warmth he felt for you was at first a spark, small, floating on the wind from something greater and bigger than he could ever imagine. Then, it took hold on every part of him, consuming him until it was ablaze and the flames licked upwards to the heels of the sky.
It was something he never wanted to feel, something he wanted to shove back. But sometimes, it was pleasant, and sweet, and it lured him in like sailors to a siren song.
Sometimes it was just a little smile.
“Good work today,” Tim complimented as he patted your back, watching as you tiredly stumbled back into the house. “I wasn’t sure we were gonna be able to get that guy but you? You were on it.”
You glanced over your shoulder and smiled at him. “Thanks! He was a slipper bastard, but I make it work,” you giggled.
Tim chuckled and closed the door of the temp house his group was currently staying in. “Get some rest tonight, okay?”
“Why? We have something big tomorrow?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.
He followed you into the kitchen, watching as you began to rummage in the fridge for something cold to drink. “No,” he started. “I just want you to get some rest.”
You poked your head from back out of the fridge, genuinely smiling at him. “Sure thing, Masky.”
His heart skipped a beat.
Sometimes it was your laugh.
It had just been you and Tim in the car coming back from a late night convenience store run. Apparently, the rest of your group wanted to have a movie night but the snacks were severely lacking.
There was music playing in the car but he hadn’t been focused on it all. In fact, he was more focused on you telling him things from your childhood.
“I can’t believe they just let us do that,” you had giggled. “I know senior pranks can get out of hand but I’m certain we cost them thousands in actual damage and even more in water damage.”
Tim chuckled and nodded. “I remember for our senior prank, Hoodie and I got the bright idea to steal three pigs from one of the local farms in the area with a group of other guys, and marked them with a one, two and four,” he explained, watching from the corner of his eye as you began to grin. “So, we let them loose in the school and of course, the staff and the students that weren’t in on the prank spent the entire day looking for pig three-” he’s barely able to get the rest of the anecdote out before you burst into laughter.
Tim’s heart grows softer as he joins you, fighting the desire to hold your hand. You sound so beautiful to him.
Tim knows he can’t deny his feelings. He couldn’t try any harder, and unfortunately for him, he has the inkling you don’t feel the same. It’s painful because he can feel the seeds of that terrible disease spreading further and further, consuming him slowly.
You’ve mentioned it before, not wanting to be in love. Not desiring a relationship and by extension, him.
“I just don’t think I’m up for those kind of things,” you said one night as the two of you say up on the roof together.
He tilted his head slightly to the side. “What makes you say that?”
You shrugged. “I’m a proxy, and I don’t think love is in the roster for people like us.” You giggled slightly and fixed your posture before shaking your head. “I think the only types of people who would work with people like us is people like us. But, even then, I think we’re way too emotionally unstable.” You then paused and looked over to your group leader. “What about you?”
Tim shrugged, a small, sad smile on his face. “I think I’m in agreement with you.” He said it, but he doesn’t mean it. He watched you carefully after he said it, looking for any signs that you wanted to challenge him, and when he didn’t see them, he felt the flowers bloom.
Coughing is absolutely normal for Tim. He’s handled the Operator’s influence for far longer than anyone should, which has been since his childhood. It’s just his body’s natural reaction to being poisoned all those years. But what wasn’t normal was when he started coughing up petals.
Oh how he hates the color pink now. Carnations. They’re pink carnations. He has no idea why they’re pink carnations as you have shown no type of fondness or specific admiration for the type of flower, but they smell so sweet and the color reminds him of you. He tries to smoke his cigarettes more and more in a vain attempt to smoke the roots that have taken hold in his lungs before they consume him in his entirety.
But he knows he won’t stop them, and that he won’t give into that surgery. What’s the use of living if you cannot have the feelings that come alongside it? All of the things that still make proxies human, life, death, love and birth - peace and war? Happiness when you laugh with friends, confusion, anger and somberness. It’s worth it. Every single part of it is worth it. He doesn’t want to lose the warm feelings he has to you either,
Even if it kills him.
It’s not like you haven’t noticed Tim coughing up pink carnations. The way the sparsely blood covered flowers find their ways into vases or in the trash have been greatly concerning you, and as far as you can tell, it’s not from Toby, Brian, or Kate. The only habitual cougher is Tim, and that makes you concerned.
You don’t know how to feel about Tim most days, but you know it’s something sweeter than what should be allowed as a proxy. You’re finally making your decision when you think you’ve almost lost him.
It’s a warm summer night when you finally come to terms with how you feel. You’ve just returned from some kind of ‘cooperation mission’ with Eyeless Jack and Jeff and you are more than exhausted after the mess you had to put up with.
“Anyone home?” You call out. From the kitchen, you can smell fresh pastries. Looks like Kate and Toby have been baking again. You follow the scent and see platters of brownies, cookies and other sweets laid out on the countertops with little sticky notes telling you to only take from the brownies - the rest are for other proxy groups and independents.
You’re just about to pluck one of the fresh brownies when you hear coughing. It’s soft at first, thick, but sounds like normal Tim coughing. You wonder if you should head over and see if there’s anything he needs. “Masky?” You call out again.
He coughs again. “What?” He sounds exhausted.
“Do you need some water?”
“No, I don’t-” he begins to cough violently, and you swear you can hear something falling to the floor as he does so. Tim rumbles around his room, crawling out of bed as he continues to violently cough and to the bathroom.
Worried, you exit the kitchen hastily to see what’s wrong just to see him slinking into the bathroom. “Masky? What’s going on?” You ask in a growing concerned tone, walking down the darkened hall to where the bathroom light shines from under the door.
And there you see it, flowers. Pink in color, carnations. They’re soft under your shoe as opposed to the hardwood. You feel the blood run cold in your veins. “Tim? Tim? Tim, you gotta open up please-” you rush out as you begin to pound on the door.
“Don’t you dare!” He snarls, pushing his weight against the door, still coughing. “I don’t need your hel-” he practically coughs up his lungs as he falls to the floor.
You panic. “Shit, shit, shit!” You cry out as you lean back in the hallway. “I’m coming in!” You know he can’t really hear you as he continues to hack out his lungs, but you kick the door in, bursting it from its hinges. You catch it and practically tear it out of the frame before shoving it back into the hall.
You widen your eyes upon seeing the state of Tim and immediately fall downwards, your hands sliding over his trembling form. There’s blood all over the sink, the mirror, even some of the sub and on the floor. The red drops leave trails down his mouth like snail trails. “Oh my gods,” you murmur as you rest his head on his lap, stopping his skull from knocking around on the tile floor.
“You shouldn’t-” he coughs more. “You shouldn’t be in here!” He’s not able to reprimand you because he’s practically puking up a bouquet.
“Nonsense,” you shrug off, trying to bring him comfort. “What the hell brought this on?” Your fingertips gently trace around his mouth and help claw the budding flowers out. You’ve never hated carnations so much until now.
Tim glares up at you before closing his eyes in pain, feeling the flowers cloud his lungs further. “It’s nothing-”
“Does this look like nothing?” You sound so cross, but it’s just because you’re so worried about him.
A long, pregnant pause passes between the two of you.
You continue to pull the blossoms from his mouth before looking over his form, seeing how his hand is slowly reaching up for yours. “Tim…”
“I know,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, I never meant for you to-”
You shake your head, your hand reaching out to hold his. You grip him before taking his hand warmly up to the side of your face, allowing him to caress your cheek. “Don’t.”
“But it’s true,” he barely manages to wisp out. “I never meant to throw this onto you,” he finishes before weakly coughing up more petals and full budding flowers. He can barely breathe now.
You sigh as you press his hand up to your cheek just a little firmer, letting him feel your warmth before you softly pull him back. “Open your palm, please,” you say softly as your free hand fishes out yet another bundle of carnations.
He weakly nods, closing his eyes and giving into his labored breathing as his lungs compete with the roots and sick blossoms for air.
You sigh once again, a small smile crossing onto your face before you plant a kiss on the center of his palm, remaining for just a moment before allowing him to pull away all on his own. “You always had me you idiot,” you whisper as you watch his fingers curl inwards, gripping the kiss that you had just planted.
Tim looks up at you, starry eyed before resting his hand on your cheek again.
The garden in his lungs begins to wilt.
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celiabowens · 4 years
Text
underrated SFF books (YA and Adult)
So uhm, since I keep seeing the same books on my dash all the time (and I like them too, just...there’s more! to read!) here’s a list of less popular SFF books, divided into YA and Adult. I’ve tried to mention when there is lgbt rep and the trigger warnings. Also, books written by poc will be in bold. Please point out any typo or mistake or if I’ve forgotten specific rep/tw mentions.
All of these are books that I’ve read and enjoyed (by enjoyed I mean anything from 3 stars and above), but if anyone wants to add titles please feel free to do so!!
YA:
The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi: beautifully written, fairytale-like story rich in mythology (inspired by several Hindu myths. There’s a full list on goodreads indicated by the author herself). Roshani’s prose is gorgeous.
A Crown of Wishes by Roshani Chokshi: it’s a companion novel to The Star-Touched Queen, but both can be read as a standalone. I liked this one more than its companion and I particularly loved how the romance was written (slow burn, but specifically, the author really highlights the mutual respect between the characters, we love to see it).
The Young Elites by Marie Lu: fantasy trilogy set in a world inspired by Renaissance Italy, in which children who survived a mysterious and deadly illness ended up with strange and dangerous powers. Secret societies and a female villain!
The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu: historical fantasy following Mozart’s sister, Nannerl, a girl as talented as her brother, but afraid of being forgotten because of the lack of opportunities she has to be seen and heard. Nuanced sibling relationship, no romance.  
The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski: fantasy f/f romance! Both a coming of age story set in a society with a rigid class system and a slow burn f/f romance with a lot of banter. TW: abuse.
The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore: magical realism. The book follows two families of traveling performers that have been locked in a feud for over a generation. This was the author’s debut and I remember getting an arc of it and being impressed by both the prose and how the forbidden love trope was handled.
When the Moon was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore: another magical realism novel. One of the main characters is a trans boy and the book focuses on issues of racism and gender. One of my favorite YA!
Strange Grace by Tessa Gratton: fantasy romance set in a village that periodically sacrifices a young man in order to keep a deal with the devil that ensures their prosperity. Also, polyamorous and non-binary rep.
The Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee: first book in a duology following avatar Kyoshi’s life. It explores the political and cultural aspect of the Earth Kingdom and Kyoshi’s past. Bisexual rep.
Descendant of the Crane by Joan He: sort of a murder mystery fantasy, as the main character finds herself suddenly thrust into power once her father has been murdered. The story has a slow build up to a last part full of twists and machinations and it features lots of court intrigue. Warning: the ending is quite open and afaik there isn’t a sequel planned as of now.
The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones: a quite unique take on zombies influenced by Welsh mythology (it’s super cool). The novel follows Ryn and their siblings, as they try to get by after their parents’ death by working as gravediggers. Only well, the dead don’t always stay dead. The characters read a bit younger than they are imo. There is chronic pain rep.
The Magnolia Sword by Sherry Thomas: retelling of the original ballad of Mulan. The book follows Mulan, who’s trained her whole life to win a duel for a priceless heirloom, as she joins the army. There’s a lot of political and historical details, which I really appreciated. Do not go into it expecting a fun adventure though. The descriptions of war aren’t extremely graphic, but be aware of the fact that most of the book is set during a conflict.
The Candle and The Flame by Nafiza Azad: standalone fantasy set in a city on the Silk Road! It’s a quite slow-paced tale about love, family and politics. It has lush descriptions of landscapes and cultures (and FOOD, there are some really great descriptions of food). It’s a very atmospheric book and while I struggled a bit with the pace I’d still recommend it.
Forest of a Thousand Lanters by Julie C. Dao: sort of an East Asian inspired retelling of Snow White, but following the Evil Queen before she became Snow White’s stepmother. I honestly haven’t read its sequel (which should focus on Snow White herself), but I do think this can be read and enjoyed as a standalone too.
The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner: it’s hard to point out exactly what this series is about because it has evolved so much with time. It starts out as classic quest/adventure series with The Thief (which may seem a classic and simple book, but is actually full of foreshadowing and has a really clever set up), but develops into a complex and intriguing political fantasy in The Queen of Attolia and The King of Attolia (and then goes back to the quest theme in book 5, Thick as Thieves).
Adult:
A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers by Alyssa Wong: I’m cheating with this one because it’s technically a short story but I love Alyssa Wong’s stories so I’m putting it here anyway. It can be read for free and you should just...read it.
The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang: grimdark fantasy (TW: abuse, self harm, rape, drug abuse), inspired by Chinese history. It’s adult, but follows younger MCs and the unique blend of different historical periods/inspirations makes it extremely interesting. The characters are extremely fucked up in the best possible way, plus the use of shamanism is awesome. Please make sure you check all the TW before reading.
The Sword of Kaigen by M.L. Wang: a Japanese-inspired militaristic fantasy, with elemental magic, a badass housewife dealing with her past and hiding a sword in her kitchen’s floor. It has interesting and nuanced family dynamics and a great reflection on propaganda and the use of narratives.
Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri: first book in an epic fantasy duology inspired by Mughal India (TW: abuse, slavery). I really liked both Empire of Sand and its companion and I find them pretty underrated. Both books have great slow burn romance (with a focus on mutual trust and respect) and focus on culture, religion, self acceptance and politics.
Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia: a fantasy bildungsroman set in Mexico during the Jazz age. It’s a great approach to adult SFF as it follows a young girl on a life changing adventure. It features Mayan mythology and a god slowly becoming human (this trope is everything!).
The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden: a coming of age story inspired by Russian folklore. The trilogy as a whole has one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen: each book is perfectly self-contained and has its own arc, but also fits perfectly in the bigger picture of the trilogy. The atmosphere is amazing, the cast of characters is extremely well developed. Also frost demons are better than men.
The Binding by Bridget Collins: historical fantasy, but with very minimal fantasy elements. It’s set in a world vaguely reminiscent of 19th century England. I’d say this book is about humans and self discovery. It’s about cowardice and the lies we tell ourselves and those we wish we could tell ourselves. Gay rep. (TW: abuse, sexual assault, pretty graphic suicide scene).
The Divine Cities trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett: starting with City of Stairs, it follows a female diplomat and spymaster(!!). The whole trilogy features an interesting discussion about godhood, religion, fanatism, politics, without ever being boring or preachy. It has complex and rich world building and a pretty compelling mystery.
Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett: heist fantasy following a thief as she’s hired to steal a powerful artifact that may change magical technology as she knows it. Set in a Venice-like merchant city. Also, slow burn f/f romance.
Jade City by Fonda Lee: sort of a gangster urban fantasy, heavily inspired by wuxia and set in an Asian-inspired metropolis. It follows a pretty big cast of characters, each with their own journey and development. It features nuanced family dynamics and a lot of political and economical subplots. Not extremely prominent, but book 2 features m/m side rep.
Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse: inspired by Native American culture and specifically by the idea of subsequent worlds. It has a kickass MC and a good mix of original elements and typical UF tropes. TW: the book isn’t extremely violent but there is death and some gore.
A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine: space opera inspired by the Mexica and middle period Byzantium. It focuses on topics like colonialism and the power of narratives and language. It has one of the best descriptions of what it’s like to live in between spaces I’ve ever read. Also very interesting political intrigue and has a slow burn f/f romance (and a poly relationship recalled through flashbacks). I ranted a lot about it already.
Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee: a Korean-inspired space opera with a magic system based on math. It’s honestly quite convoluted and difficult to follow, but it also features some of the best political intrigue I’ve ever read. Plenty of lying, backstabbing and mind games. It also features lesbian and bisexual rep and an aroace side character (TW: mass shooting, sexual assault, abuse). I also really recommend Yoon Ha Lee’s short-story collection Conservation of Shadows.
The long way to a small angry planet by Becky Chambers: character driven space opera featuring a found family journeying through space. A fun read, that also deals with topics such as sexuality and race. Quite easy to go through, as the world building and plot aren’t particularly complex themselves. f/f romance.  
The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo: an Asian-inspired fantasy novella that gives a voice to people usually silenced by history. It follows a cleric (non binary rep) as they chronicle the story of the late empress, retold through objects that she used in her life. It focuses on bonds between women and the power that lies in being unnoticed. f/f side rep.
The Black God’s Drums by P. Djèlí Clark: an urban fantasy novella, based on Orisha mythology and set in an alternate, sort of steampunk, New Orleans. I really like how creative Clark’s worlds are and how good he is at writing female characters (which rarely happens with male authors).
The haunting of tram car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark: novella set in an alternate steampunk Cairo populated by supernatural entities. It’s set in the same world of a Dead Djinn in Cairo, which is a short story you can read for free.
This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: epistolary novella set during a time-travel war. It has gorgeous writing and an amazing f/f romance. As a novella, it’s quite short but it’s beautifully crafted and so complex for such a short book!
The Citadel of Weeping Pearls by Aliette de Bodard: a novella set in the Xuya universe (a series of novellas/short stories set in a timeline where Asia became dominant, and where the space age has empires of Vietnamese and Chinese inspiration), but can be read as a standalone. It’s a space opera featuring a disappeared citadel and the complex relationship between the empress and her daughter as war threatens her empire.
One for My Enemy by Olivie Blake: self-published urban fantasy following two rival families in New York. Sort of a Romeo and Juliette retelling but with gangster families and magic. Honestly recommend all of her books, I love how Olivie writes and especially how she writes female characters.
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lubdubsworld · 3 years
Text
City Lights . ( Namjoon x OC)
Pairing : OC x Kim Namjoon.
Genre : Angst. Romance.
Rating 18 + 
Word Count : 2900
Warnings :  Mature Themes , Explicit Sexual Content . Slow burn. Like slower than a snail.
Summary :
Widowed and destitute, Son Yang Mi leaves the comfort of her small , secluded  fishing village and travels to the intimidating city of Seoul with her young son. She has a plan, one that involves finding a job, getting her son into a good school and building a life for herself.
Now, three years later she has a job , working as a live in house keeper for the Kim family, specifically for the son,  Kim Namjoon, a famous rapper and producer. 
Its a job that puts a roof over her head and she’ll do anything to keep it. 
But fate has other plans.
Chapter 1 ~
Akogare (ah-koh-ga-reh)Often translated directly as a sort of frustrated “yearning”, “desire”, or “longing” .
Seoul in summer was a sight to behold. I blinked back against the bright sunlight, staring out into the stunning skyline of the city as the sun rose over it , and although it was just a little past seven in the morning, the air was warm and invigorating. The mid July sun shone down with no mercy, and there was no trace of the rain that had lashed city just the previous night.
It had been three whole years but the relief that came from breathing fresh air, untainted by the damp musk of fishing trowels and sweaty men, was still unrivalled.
I shook off the feather duster in my hand, moving to carefully clean the wicker woven chairs on the artificial lawn in the balcony. Dusting the entire condo down was a mind numbing exercise in patience, so i tried to get it out of the way, early in the morning when my son was still asleep.
At six years old, Junsu was a bright , happy child. Summer vacation meant days sleeping in and evenings spent frolicking with the other kids in the building and he was content with being alone in our small shared room, reading or playing with his toys while I went about the day’s work.
I glanced at the clock, grimacing.
It was almost eight . And although Mr. Kim wasn’t due back home for another twelve hours, I felt a little jittery and nervous.
Kim Namjoon , renowned rapper, producer, writer , poet and what not. The apartment was his but he was usually on tour, traveling all over the world to promote his book and to perform in sold out stadiums. For an A list celebrity, he was surprisingly humble.
For the past three years, him and his model fiancée  Lee Mina had spent a total of maybe seven months in the condo. They were a sweet couple, or so I’d always thought , a bit formal with each other but clearly in love . Mr. Kim was a kind, soft spoken young man and I’d never heard him raise his voice unless he was in the company of his very dear friends.
Just a little over a week ago , both of them  had left Korea for the States , the tabloids screaming about a luxurious destination wedding in the Caribbean and I had been asked to take a few weeks off . The newly weds wouldn’t be back for quite a while and they would let me know when I had to come back to the condo.
I’d been toying with the idea of visiting my in laws in Gwangyog, maybe even dropping by to see some old friends there but yesterday , Mr. Kim’s mother had given me a call letting me know her son was coming home. 
The conversation went something like this :
Yang Mi, I hope you haven’t left yet?
No, Ma'am, I haven’t.
Joon-ah is going to be back tomorrow.
Oh, is Ms Lee arriving as well?
No, Just him He’s going to be alone.
Yes, Ma'am.
Please don’t mention anything about Mina or the wedding.
No ma'am of course not.
I’ll drop by later . Cook him something warm and filling. And make sure the house is cleaned well.
Yes, Ma’ am.
]
And that was that.
~~~~~~
It took the better part of the day to finish cleaning and setting up the house . I washed the window slats, changed the sheets, arranged the books that had been left scattered all over his bedroom. The walk-in closet was littered with a bunch of his clothes and I made sure his gym bag was stocked with fresh towels, spare clothes and his favorite head and wrist bands. 
For someone so careful and calculated, he was really quite a messy man. 
i did his laundry, making sure he had ample clothes at least for another two weeks, creasing the handkerchiefs and carefully removing lint from his jackets. 
I also carefully sorted out the feminine clothing from the laundry and from the cupboard, folding them neatly and placing them in the lowest shelf of the closet, where he wouldn’t find them. It wasn’t hard, hiding traces of his fiancee from the condo, because it had never really been her home. other than a few spare pieces of underwear and a couple of t shirts and skirts, there weren’t many articles of clothing belonging to Ms. Lee. 
But I still got rid of the bobby pins and hair ties, the spare lip gloss and mascara.
Junsu spent the entire day in our room, reading and drawing, only venturing out every few hours to grab a snack. I left him with his drawing tab ( a gift from Mr. Kim for his 5th birthday )  and his favorite book, asking the security guard at the end of the hallway to keep an eye on the door, while i went out to buy groceries.
Lots of meat, no sea food, healthy snacks and high protein fiber bars. I stocked up on sauces and bought a fresh batch of eggs, oranges and grapes . Mrs. Kim had sent a large amount of kimchi a few weeks ago and that was still in the pantry.
i stopped for a second, staring around at the almost deserted store. Most of the other housekeepers shopped at the bigger, more exclusive store on the other side of the residential complex. But Mr. Kim had a very selective palette, which meant that I had to be very particular about the brands i bought.
When i came back home at around six, Junsu was on the floor in the living space and i felt my heart jump in panic.
“Baby!! I’ve told you not to come out here when I’m not home!” I protested bleakly and he pouted.
“I need to show you my gift for Mr. Kim!!” He said softly. I smiled moving to put away the groceries and glancing at the clock. It was a little past six. I had to call Yungyu.
“Did you draw him something ? “ I asked curiously, checking to see if the beer shelf was stocked. probably should have done that before going out for the groceries, I thought regretfully.
“Yeah! Look!!” Junsu held his tab out and my heart dropped.
For a six year old, Junsu drew very well. And there was really no mistaking the very obvious wedding scene on the screen.
Oh, Good God.
“ That looks amazing honey.” I said gently. “ But, I heard that Ms Lee isn’t coming over this time..”
Junsu frowned.
“Why?”
“Well, I’m not sure. But remember how we spoke about saying the right things? When something upsets someone, we do not bring it up.” I reminded him gently. My son hesitated but nodded.
“Okay. I’m sorry. “ He said softly.
“No baby, its not your fault. It’s just that we want Mr. Kim to be happy right? We don’t wanna upset him...”
He smiled at that.
“When he’s happy, his dimples come out.” He said with a giggle. I laughed.
“yes they do... So let’s try and get those dimples out as often as we can alright? Why don’t you show him that picture you drew of yeontan the other day? He’ll really like that....”
“Okay...but i need to go color it!” Junsu yelled, already running back into our room. I watched him go before reaching for the phone and dialing, Yungyu, the chauffeur.
“Are you on the way here? ” i said briskly.
“Just starting from home...” Yungyu muttered, “ I’m supposed to be on vacation now! Why is he coming back so soon?” 
“Just hurry up !! We can’t keep him waiting!!” I said sharply, before hanging up. 
I made a quick check of all the rooms, filling up water bottles for his gym routine in the morning and stashing them in the fridge before moving to get dinner started. 
i set the water on boil for the stew, before moving to peel cucumbers for the salad. I chopped the cucumber , along with some fresh cherry tomatoes . I watched the water boil, thinly slicing an onion and adding it to the bowl as well. The dressing was pretty simple,  soy sauce, rice vinegar, honey and sesame oil . I sprinkled some sesame seeds on the bowl, used the salad tongs to give the whole thing a nice toss and set it aside. 
I braised the chicken first , peeling and chopping potatoes and carrots to add to the stew . In a few minutes, the rich smell of lightly spiced chicken and garlic and perilla  leaves began filling the kitchen and I turned on the rice cooker as well. 
The door bell rang at six forty and i opened the door to reveal Yungyu. 
I grabbed the keys to the Palisade, handing them over to him.
“Did you hear?” He whispered urgently.
I frowned.
“What?”
“They say Mr. Kim called off the wedding!” He whispered, wide eyed. 
I glared at him.
“Who told you that?” i demanded...
“Seojoon from the gate said-”
“Why don’t you ask Seojoon from the gate to mind his own damn business?” I snapped. 
Yungyu looked suitably chastised. i felt a little bad. Yungyu was still young and curiosity was hardly a sin. 
“His flight lands at eight exactly. Hurry okay?” I said with a smile, ruffling his hair.
He brightened, peering over my shoulder into the house.
“Where’s the little one?” He asked curiously.
“ Painting something for Mr. Kim... Go ahead, hurry up.” I shooed him away, locking the door behind him. I fixed a plate of food for Junsu and sent him to eat, before moving to check on the stew. +
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~` 
By the time eight thirty rolled around I had the table set and ready. I washed my face quickly in the small bath attached to our room , making sure I was dressed well. Junsu wasn’t allowed in the main house unless Mr. Kim specifically asked for him and my son usually stayed in. 
Junsu and I stayed in a bedroom , not large by any means but big enough for a queen sized bed, a table and chair for Junsu and small dresser where I kept a comb and a tube of night cream. I stared at my face, licking my lips as I smoothed my hair out. 
I glanced at the bed. 
Junsu was asleep , having dozed off while coloring his picture and I carefully extracted the tab from under his fingers, moving him around to lay on the soft pillows. I tucked him in gently, brushing the hair off his face. 
“In peace , I will lie down to sleep, for You alone will let me rest in safety.” I whispered gently against his forehead, kissing the soft skin. I felt my lips wobble , a debilitating wave of affection flooding me as the sweet scent of my baby, filled my senses.
 I would die for you, I thought fiercely, kissing him again. 
The sound of the front door opening made me jump. 
Swearing, i smoothed the fabric of my skirt, running to the kitchen. 
“Thank you for picking me up Yungyu, I’m sorry you had to cut short on your vacation.” Mr. Kim’s deep voice filled the hallway and I quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water and placing it on the dinner tray.
“Not a problem, Sir. “ Yungyu’s cheerful voice responded.
“How are you going home?” Mr. Kim asked. 
“I’ll take the bus.”
A pause and then, 
“Here’s some cash. Get a cab.” 
I could hear the relief in Yungyu’s voice as he let out a , “ Thank you sir.” 
I fixed his plate carefully, the bowl of rice, the bowl of chicken stew, and the salad neatly arranged next to the napkin and the chopsticks. I heard him move across the condo, the sound of his suitcases as he wrestled them towards his bedroom and I frowned. Yungyu should’ve have brought those in for him. 
I finished reheating all of the food and carefully carried the dinner tray to the bedroom. 
Mr. Kim’s bedroom was right at the end of the hallway and the door was open. The full length mirror on the opposite wall showed him sitting on the small couch in his room, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees as he ran his fingers through his hair. 
I raised my hand, ready to knock on the wood. 
“Fuck!” He shouted, kicking out at the coffee table with enough force to send the furniture skidding half way across the room. 
I froze in the hallways stunned. 
“You’re such a fucking fool , Namjoon !!” He muttered angrily and I swallowed, turning on my heel and quickly walking back to the kitchen. 
Maybe I ought to wait till he asked for dinner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He didn’t ask for dinner. 
I stayed sitting on the floor of the kitchen, waiting and lightly dozing as I heard him talk to his parents on the phone. I heard him open the liquor cabinet in his room, the sound of ice sloshing against glass, the sound of whiskey being poured carefully and i sighed. 
I had to get to bed. It was already a little past eleven. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometime in the night, I woke up sweating.... 
Wondering what woke me up, I blinked groggily, glancing at Junsu. He was still sound asleep. 
Sighing, I climbed out of the bed, carefully making my way to Mr. Kim’s room, peering in carefully. 
He was asleep on the sofa.
I stared at the way his long legs stretched over the armrest, his lean hips twisted to accommodate his broad shoulders on the couch and I winced. He was definitely going to regret that in the morning. 
I stared at the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and sighed, moving to take off his shoes carefully. He didn’t stir. 
I grabbed a pillow from the bed, carefully lifting his head and slipping it under. I placed a comforter over his shoulders, pulling it down to cover his legs. 
Force of habit almost made me brush his hair off his forehead but I stopped myself. 
The clock on the wall read three fifty am. God, I was going to feel terrible tomorrow. I carefully tip toed out, shutting the door behind me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I picked the comforter from the floor, carefully folding it and placing it on the bed, before grabbing the empty bottle of whiskey and glass . i could hear the shower running. The curtains were still drawn in and I tugged on the strings to get them to open. Sunlight spilled in through the floor length windows. The bed wasn’t slept in, so I opened the closet to grab a couple of towels, laying them on the bed for him. 
The bathroom door opened and i quickly straightened, wanting to race out of the room but it was too late. Thankfully he was dressed,  a pair of loose sweats and a loose t shirt . He was running a towel through his hair and his face brightened at the sight of me. 
“Yang Mi! You’re here....” He said cheerfully. 
“Good morning sir.” I said softly, offering him a small smile. 
He smiled brightly, hair damp and dimples deep. The white t shirt he had on was almost fully soaked through and he shook his head, sending stray water droplets all over the place, a few landing on my cheeks. 
“I didn’t see you last night...” He said casually, moving to drop the wet towel in the hamper, grabbing one of the fresh ones I’d laid on the bed. 
“I thought you would like your privacy sir, you looked exhausted.” 
He smiled.
“ Thank you for the blanket and the pillow by the way. And the shoes.” 
I bowed quickly.
“I’ll get your breakfast done, sir.” I bowed again before quickly getting out. 
I moved to the kitchen grabbing the oranges I’d got the previous day . Mr. Kim wasn’t fond of traditional korean dishes in the morning. He preferred freshly squeezed juice and toast, sometimes with an omelet perhaps. 
I fixed his breakfast quickly, setting it all in the tray . He was still moving around in the bedroom and I heard him drag his worktable to the windows, which meant he was going to stay in the bedroom. 
Pouring his coffee into a cup, I carefully picked up the breakfast tray , moving to his room slowly. 
I used my foot to knock on the door.
After a pause of a few seconds, 
“Come in Yang Mi!”
I carefully moved to the small table in front of the couch, placing the tray right in front of him. The scent of his body wash, green apple and strawberries, hit me hard. 
“Where’s Junsu?” He asked casually.
“Still asleep sir. It’s Summer so school’s out.” I smiled, grabbing his phone from the table to make space for his tray. 
The phone buzzed just as I was about to place it back down and I blinked.
 Mina calling.......
 I swallowed, not sure what to do, placing the phone down quickly.
“Uh..you have ...” I waved vaguely at the device before bowing again and moving back. 
“close the door on your way out, Yang Mi...” He said gently and I quickly obeyed. 
I moved to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for myself. I stayed leaning over the counter and even through the locked door, I could hear him . 
“Just don’t call me Mina...i don’t want to talk about this!!!” 
I swallowed, glancing out of the window again. It was a bright, clear morning. 
A second later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and he stormed out. I watched him from my spot in the kitchen, his fists clenched as he rushed out to the front door.
The door shut behind him and I exhaled. 
Once I as done with my coffee, I moved to his room to clear the breakfast tray. His phone was still on the table.
It began ringing again just as I left the room. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Mrs. Kim.” i said respectfully, bowing . She gave me a short smile.
“Where’s Namjoon? I’ve been calling him for the past hour.” She pushed past me into the house and I bit my lips.
“He went out about an hour ago. He left his phone behind.” I explained.
She stopped, sighing. 
“Fine, I’ll wait for him. “ She moved to sit on the couch, glancing around the room. 
“Should I get you something ma'am?” I asked softly and she smiled.
“Get me a glass of lemonade, Yangmi.” She said brusquely and i nodded, running to the kitchen. 
“Did Mina come over?” She called out as I got the lemons out of the cooler.
“No ma'am.” i replied.
“Did she call?” 
  I remembered the phone ringing, how upset it had made Namjoon, how he had stormed out.
“I don’t know ma'am!” I said softly. 
She nodded.
“Okay. You can leave.” She said quietly. i bowed and went back into the kitchen. 
I peered out of the window as I fixed her a glass , and my eyes fell on a familiar figure, coming back in through the front gate. Even from this distance there was no mistaking the long legs and messy blonde hair. 
I bit my lips, mind racing.
 Mrs Kim and her son had a volatile relationship, to say the least. 
And something told me that Mr. Kim was probably not in the right frame of mind to argue with his mother, now. The man was upset but apparently, neither his mother nor his ex fiancée understood that. instead of giving him space they were hounding him. 
I hesitated for a second  before making a quick decision. 
I grabbed the tray with her lemonade and moved to her quickly.
“Thank you.” She said sharply. “ Turn on the Air Conditioner for me, will you?” 
I fumbled with the remote, grabbing his phone from the table , turning it on before moving to the front door and rushing out. 
I almost ran into him as he came out of the elevator , and i jerked back stumbling a bit to stop myself from crashing into his chest. He let out a , ‘ Whoa, “  his hands reaching out to grip my elbows. 
“Careful. What’s wrong?” He asked gently and I swallowed.
“Your mother’s here.” I said quickly, “ Sir.” 
“Oh, fuck.” He groaned. I swallowed.
“You can leave.” I blurted out. “It’s Tuesday. She has her charity work meeting at ten. Its almost nine. She won’t stay long....” 
His eyes met mine, lips parting in surprise. 
“I really can’t meet her now.” He said apologetically.
I nodded.
“Of course, I understand , sir. Just be back in an hour , she’ll be go-”
The elevator buzzed , the doors nearly closing over my shoulders and I flinched. He swore and stuck his arm out to keep it open. 
I stared at him before holding his phone out.
“Here you go sir. “ 
He chuckled taking it from me and shaking his head.
“i feel like a kid, sneaking away from my mom.” His eyes reached mine, twinkling, “ Who would’ve thought the quiet, timid Yang Mi would be my partner in crime. “ 
I didn’t reply, just smiled. 
And then he hesitated. “ Is Junsu awake?”
I blinked.
“Uh...yes sir,...he’s playing in the park downstairs with the other kids.”
“Great... Would you mind if i take him out for ice cream?”
I stared at him. 
“Oh..uh...of course not. Sure.. I mean.. he’ll love that... Sir. Thank you.. You don’t have to -”
“Consider it thank you for helping me with my mother.” He smiled again and i found myself staring at his dimples again. i swallowed. 
“in that case, he loves butter scotch.” I smiled. 
The dimples appeared and i bit my lips. 
“Thank you Yang Mi.” He said slowly. 
“Yes, Sir.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note : Finally a hyungline fic !!! ugh... I’ve been wanting to write a Namjoon fic for ages and I really hope you guys will like this one :’( Feedback is much appreciated. 
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ssahotchhner · 3 years
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angel of spite
hi, i wrote a quick little something about the reader intentionally making hotch jealous as revenge. i hope you like it (: i'll be working on a few requests in my inbox next. i also finally made a masterlist which i'll link below!
masterlist
questions, comments, concerns
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You supposed you should have known better than to spite Aaron for staying at the office too late, again. You had simply texted him that since he was going to be working late to not expect you to be there when he got home. Maybe that had been unfair to him, and you were normally so patient with his work schedule, but the last three nights in a row he had promised to be home for date night and continually cancelled last minute. Tonight, you had gotten angry when he texted you yet again, apologizing and saying he would be back late.
He tried calling you over an hour after you had sent the text message, having just then seen it in the throws of a difficult case, but you didn’t pick up. He tries to push down the flare of annoyance he feels, after all, this was the third time he had flaked on you. But still, you were acting like a child. He also knew part of the reason you were doing this was because you knew it would piss him off.
All he wanted at the end of a hard day was to see you waiting in bed for him with open arms. He put on a big show of being the dominant one in the relationship, but both of you knew Aaron became putty in your hands when you gently scratched at his scalp and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. You purposely took that away from him, knowing it was one of the only things that could get him through a tough work day. The more he sat at his desk trying to work, constantly checking his phone to see if you’d called or texted again (you hadn’t) the more angry he became. In fact, he stormed out of the BAU without saying goodbye to anyone without finishing his report.
He called you over and over again until you started sending him straight to voicemail. And so by the time he’s able to make an educated guess about what bar you’re in, his rage ripples off him in waves. He flashes his FBI badge to the bouncer to get inside without waiting in line, something he’s definitely not supposed to do, and heads up the elevator to the rooftop. Once up there, he heads straight to the bar. He scans the room quickly, but you’re nowhere to be found. Until, across the room, sparkling golden crescent moons dangled from someone’s ear. Aaron knew those earrings, he had bought them for you for your birthday this year. And standing in front of you is a broad, tall man. Not as tall as Aaron, but he was built a bit wider than Aaron, as if to make up for it. You sit on the arm of the couch, you look relaxed, your legs open just enough to get the man that was in front you salivating.
When your eyes settled on him, you couldn’t help the cocky smile that lit up your mouth. Unbridled fury filled his face when he saw the lawyer in front of you that was clearly wondering what you’d let him do to you in bed. You sigh as Aaron begins walking over you and turn to look at the lawyer, “I’m really sorry about this.” You say, cutting off whatever he was saying.
He frowns at you, “What?”
But Aaron was here now, “Hi baby,” You say sweetly, “I didn’t think you were going to make it tonight.”
He gives you a withering look as if to say I’ll deal with you later, before turning to the lawyer. “This is Ronnie, he’s a lawyer.”
Ronnie stared from Aaron, who was still silent, to you and back again. “And… who is this?” He refers to Aaron.
You open your mouth, but Aaron speaks first, “Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU. I’m also her boyfriend.” He gives the lawyer a look that anyone in opposition to the unit chief had experienced many times over the course of his career.
I’m sorry, you were mouthing to Ronnie from behind Aaron’s shoulder. “She didn’t mention a boyfriend.” Ronnie says.
You sigh, leave it to you to pick the one guy in this room that would decide to challenge Aaron Hotchner rather than just apologizing and walking away, “Oh, you idiot.” You murmur.
Aaron tilts his head to the side in an almost predatory way, “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”
“I’m suggesting that the lady obviously doesn’t want you since she didn’t mention you, Mister FBI.”
“Oh, God help us.” You shake your head and say into your lap and the next time you look up Aaron’s fist has connected with the man’s face and whiskey had splashed on the floor and your ankles. At that your eyes widen, “Aaron, what the fuck?” Aaron had given many men that flirted with you a firm talking to, sometimes escalated to yelling, but never in the entire time that you’d known him had Aaron physically hurt anyone who had advanced on you.
Aaron puts a firm hand on your wrist as a commotion begins to gather around the two of you and pulls you away. He doesn’t speak as he practically drags you out to the back door, down several flights of stairs and out another door behind the building. Once the cold night air hits you, you pull your wrist away from him, “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Did you want him to fuck you?” He practically growls.
“No,” You say, exasperated, “Aaron, we play this game all the time, you’ve never hit someone.”
“You’ve never deliberately gone out of your way to flirt with someone else.”
It was true, you supposed. You always let the men come up to you if they were interested, but you never were the one to initiate. Why would you when no one would compare to Aaron anyway? Today you had come here with specific intentions to speak with someone that would piss off Aaron. “You’re right,” You admit softly, “I’m sorry, I just… I wanted you to feel what I’ve been feeling.”
“Do you think I enjoy coming home late and not spending time with you?”
“Yes, I do! You love your job!”
“So you behave like a child because you’re jealous of my job?”
When he says it out loud like that, it sounds ridiculous and your eyes water, “Yes.” You say quietly, “Because I need to make sure you still want me just as much as your job.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Honey, of course I do, but I can’t control when I have more paperwork or a heavier caseload than usual.”
You feel deflated and stupid all of a sudden with the condescension that’s written so clearly on Aaron’s face. “Whatever, let’s just go home.”
“Sweetheart—“
“I don’t want to talk about it. Did you drive the SUV here?”
He looks at you hopelessly and then sighs, “Yes.”
You let him walk a couple of steps ahead of you the whole way, not wanting to let him hold your hand if you were close enough. He did open the car door for you, but you didn’t look at him as you climbed in.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t consider your feelings more this week when I cancelled our dates.” Aaron says. You remain quiet. “I’m nearly certain I’ll be off work this weekend. I’ll make it up to you then.”
You can’t help the roll of your eyes, “You have to stop making me promises that you can’t keep. We all know you’ll probably get a case in the middle of the weekend.”
His fingers flex on the steering wheel, “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Aaron, I’m not even mad about you not being here all the time. I accepted that when we first started dating. I just hate when you promise you’ll do something and then you don’t do it. We planned this dinner weeks and weeks ago and you swore to me you’d get it off. And then we had to reschedule the reservation three nights in a row and you still didn’t show. Then you do show up, but only for the chance to be mad at me and condescend me which just tells me that you could have left work tonight if you wanted to. That’s why I’m mad.”
He supposed you were right. He had ended up leaving work early because he was upset with you. He knew that hadn’t been your intention, you had expected him to quietly stew in his anger until the next morning or until you had come home that night. But he had done it all the same, unable to bear even the idea of you flirting with another man in his absence. He figured it had to do with previously being cheated on because of his job, but he knew you would never do that. Knew that your relationship wasn’t fundamentally broken in that way, could tell by the way adoration still glowed in your eyes when he came home every night. But if he wasn’t careful, he wondered if you ever would. Just the thought had his knuckles whitening as he clenched the steering wheel. It was this thought that had made him punch that lawyer back at the bar.
When you arrive home, you get out of the car without waiting for Aaron, unlocking the door before he’s even out of the car and heading inside, heels in hand. Jack was sleeping at a friend’s house tonight as it was supposed to be date night. You don’t slam the bedroom door, but you close it as Aaron is walking down the hallway which in his mind is the same thing. He stops in the middle of the hallway, wondering if he should go in anyway. A minute later, he hears the intro to The Phantom of the Opera blaring from your bedroom.
He sighs, “Fuck.” He murmurs to himself and turns away from the room. Your mutual love of the theater had been something the two of you had bonded over early in the relationship. Aaron had learned quickly there was a specific stage performance of Phantom of the Opera that you turned to for comfort. If he ever came home to it playing, he knew you had had a bad day. Rarely, though, had you put it on after a fight with him.
He heads to the kitchen and turns on the electric kettle figuring he’d better come into the bedroom with your favorite tea if he was going to brave it at all. He sits down as he waits, resting his head in his hands. The two of you rarely ever fight and so Aaron is still trying to figure out how to do that with you in a productive way.
The kettle switches off and he pours the boiling water into your favorite mug, dunking your favorite tea bag before leaving it to steep. He takes a deep breath before picking up the mug and walking to the bedroom. When he enters, you don’t look at him until he stops by your nightstand, noticing he brought you tea. The gesture is sweet and so you sigh and pause the show.
“Hi.” You say softly to your boyfriend who’s still standing next to you.
“Hi.” He says gently, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” You say, and he knows it’s a test.
“For making promises I know I can’t keep. For leaving work early after I told you I wouldn’t be able to solely to punch whatever man wanted to sleep with you. For patronizing you.”
You cover your hand with his, “And I’m sorry for flirting to intentionally make you upset. You know I’d never actually do that, right?”
Aaron looks down at your hands, “I saw the way you had spread your legs for him, just a little bit, and I…” He sighs, “I never told you this, but my last wife cheated on me because I wasn’t around enough and seeing you like that, I guess I just…” He trailed off shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
“Baby,” You say softly, eyes wide, “I’m so sorry, I had no idea… I never would’ve done that if I had known.”
“I know.” He gives you a small smile.
“Why don’t you come lay down and tell me about your day?”
His smile grows and he crawls into bed, laying his head in your lap and your fingers begin combing through his hair as he talks about the case.
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n-miri · 3 years
Text
More Tommy-Purpled friendship content!! CW for: brief mentions of corpses and death (via being struck by lightning) 
Word count: 1610
On rainy days, Purpled polishes his sword. It’s a good weapon: netherite, with Sharpening V, Unbreaking III— the usual overpowered enchantments. He isn’t complaining though; the stronger he is, the better. He goes through a collection of blades, from the one he knows best to the oldest one he owns, on the verge of being grinded into dust. Wipe, sharpen, steer clear of rust. Keep the blade clean and dry. It’s easy to get lost in the repetitive motions. 
Dogchamp lies by his side, close to the fire, hind leg poking at his thigh through the soft material. Their ears perk up, and their tail begins to wag. Back, forth, thumping on the floorboards. 
A door slams open, followed by a myriad of curses. It’s the usual rainy day, after all. 
“Don’t let my floor get wet,” Purpled says immediately. His voice rebounds within the house, a meagre two rooms decorated with torches. A temporary base, if you will. One that he’s planning to blow up soon. 
His UFO was… 
It just isn’t the same. 
“Fuck you,” the trespasser immediately responds. The house is unbearably empty despite its miniscule nature. “I’ll do whatever I want.” 
A beat. He probably found the towel Purpled placed on the counter earlier, specifically for this scenario. Footsteps, sharp against the falling of rain—white hair peeks out from the door. Tommy sneers at the other derisively, before crossing the room in five long steps and dropping down on Purpled’s other side. 
This has become a ritual of sorts, with the two blondes (or, in Tommy’s case, ex-blonde) seeking refuge from bad days. Sometimes it’s sunny out, or the middle of the night; most of the time, it’s raining. 
The day they met, it was raining too. Wide eyes meet each other in the solace of darkness. The past is unforgivingly cruel, and whispers mockeries into their ears. Tommy looked so small, in the Church Prime’s pew; Purpled was sure he looked equally as haggard, hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. 
So, Purpled invited Tommy to his base. It’s warm despite being unfamiliar, and Dogchamp is amicable towards traumatised teenagers who need way more therapy than life is willing to give. They talked a bit about the stupidity of other members. Rarely, there was a glimpse into their lives, what they missed and have lost. Neither of them actively asked and, in a sense, it was comforting. 
Then it happens again. And again. Tommy pulls out his sewing kit on the third visit and demands to patch up his hoodie. Purpled teaches Tommy how to shear sheep, wool coming off in lines of blue. Just like this, they help each other. There’s too much left unspoken and no expectations to be had. There is no debt to be repaid, or a favour to be granted, or a profitable exchange. 
It’s just that. It’s just them, crossing each other’s path sometimes. Seeing how the other has changed from their previous meeting. 
“It’s stupid,” Tommy says suddenly. His shrill voice pierces through the haze of thoughts. Pale eyes flicker around the room, with shadows from corners pulling faces. “This is what you do in your spare time? Fight, prepare to fight, fight some more?” He scoffs, not even sparing Purpled a glance. “Idiot.” 
Much to the mercenary’s bemusement, Tommy proceeds to pull a cake out of his inventory. As in, a full-blown, home-baked dessert. 
“.... Huh?” 
An embarrassed scowl creeps onto his face. “Don’t be like that.” He drops the plate loudly onto the space between the two. “It’s edible, if that’s what you were wondering. I know how to cook shit. Niki…” Tommy’s eyes grow distant, fingers twitching, as if moving to punch the treat into oblivion. “She used to bake. A lot. Back in- y’know, back in L’manberg. I learned a bit from her,” he finishes lamely. All the bravado has left him. 
“That’s cool, dude,” Purpled replies. “It looks good.” 
“Wh- of course it does! I’m poggers at everything I do. That’s why the women love me.” Carefully, the boy flicks strands of white hair away from his eyes. “I’m astonishingly charming.” 
There was a time where Tommy’s hair imitated the sunlight, gold and yellow and bursting with happiness. He smiled more. Laughed more, too. Was more brash and insolent; was so willing to see the good in everyone he met. 
Now his hair is completely white. His dull eyes flicker around the room and his hands are always, always trembling. Tommy is different from who he was before. 
The Tommy and Purpled of before would never have become friends. 
“Hold up, let me cut it.” Saying that, the mercenary raises his newly polished sword. Tommy sputters, holding a hand out to stop him. 
“Why can’t you use a knife like a normal person!” 
Purpled shrugs. “Technically, a sword is a very big knife. It’s… stabby and shit.” 
Exasperated, Tommy gets up from his spot in a tangle of long limbs and half-hearted glares. “I’m going to slice this cake like a normal person. It deserves to be treated with respect.” 
“We’re going to eat it anyway,” Purpled points out. 
The other sniffs indignantly, turning heel to find cutleries. Dogchamp lifts their head in his direction, turning to Purpled, then back again. Slowly, the wolf raises from their sitting position and trots out of the room. Traitor. 
From the closed window, lightning streaks through the sky, followed closely by a clap of thunder. It’s loud, Purpled winces. He had expected it but- the sound still makes him jumpy. Rainy days in general are terrible. 
The patter of rain against the dirt and harsh concrete pulls out a vivid scene from his memory. Soldiers, rising out of graves, burdened by shiftless armour, heaving up weapons twice their arm span. Thunder imitates piercing shrieks, the blast of an explosion. Raindrops sound like corpses hitting the ground. 
Everytime it rains, he recalls that scene with bitter reminiscence; greets it like an old friend who came back to haunt him as an afterthought. It’s not the best way to spend his day. 
“You know,” Tommy says, having entered the room when he wasn’t aware, “I got struck by lightning once.” 
Distantly, Purpled thinks of raindrops rolling through hair and a shock so bright it electrifies the body. The event he construes in his mind, like always, paints his own death in a morbid way. He wonders if he died, would anyone come visit him? Would there even be a grave? 
“That sucks,” the blonde replies. 
Tommy gives a non-committal hum, shifting the objects in his arms. In one hand the boy carries a kitchen knife and in the other, a blanket. It’s the one with a UFO print on it—too childish for the purple boy’s tastes, yet too precious to be thrown away. 
Once again, the two -three, counting Dogchamp- are back in their original positions. The blanket is draped over Purpled’s lap and he watches, warily, as Tommy’s shaking hands raise the knife. At this point, Purpled would have offered to do it. He nearly does, too, but- 
Ten minutes have passed. Eyebrows scrunched, a bead of sweat against his forehead, Tommy tries to steady his grip and cut the cake in equal slices. It doesn’t work. It’s uneven at best, falling apart at worst, but- 
None of that matters. He did it. 
A ‘good job’ or ‘gg’ sticks on Purpled’s tongue, sincere yet worried of coming off as patronising. Instead, he gives a silent thumbs-up and hopes that conveys all the things he wishes he could say. 
Tommy grins. “Eat up before it gets cold, purple boy.” Neither of them mention that it’s definitely not warm anymore, with how long it’s been and how cold the weather is. Obediently, the teenager picks up the tiniest chunk of cake and pops it into his mouth. 
Sweet is the first thing that touches his tongue. Honestly, it shouldn’t come as a surprise— Tommy started over-seasoning his food after the prison visit, the same time he came back with a head full of white hair. That, paired with the fact Awesamdude said he had died, creates a sinking feeling in Purpled’s guts. It doesn’t take an idiot to connect the dots. 
“Yummy,” he comments. “Delicious. Uhh, what other synonyms are there? Delectable, tasteful-” A choking laugh cuts him off, too loud and too worryingly breathless all at once. “I’ll give this a… hm. Maybe an eight out of ten.” 
“I should have gotten full marks,” Tommy says sarcastically. “Glad you like it, though.” Underneath the amusement is the barest form of sincerity, and that’s enough for the both of them. 
“Uh-huh! I do.” 
Once the rain lets up, the two will part again. Purpled will wash sugar off his fingers, keep the polishing kit in a chest and carry on with his life. That’s how this has always been. 
But for now, light from the fireplace casts a glow across their faces, painting a sunset upon Tommy’s self. It’s reminiscent of older days, better days; ones that have long since passed. They’ll never get any of it back—family, homes, the people they once were. All they can do is yearn for what has been lost and move on. 
So for now, Purpled stops focusing on the what-ifs and could-have-beens. For now, he relishes in the warmth in his sides as he laughs himself silly. Dogchamp dozes off contentedly. A blanket is shared, covering his and Tommy’s laps, barely offering heat. The half-eaten cake lies between them and his friend is threatening to smash it into his face. 
Outside, rain drums against the earth. Neither of them pay it mind. 
61 notes · View notes
bangtangalicious · 3 years
Text
the glow up (5) | pjm, jjk
pairing: jimin x reader x jungkook
summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure
genre: angst, smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au
word count: 3k
warnings: college boys fighting, jimin’s abs, everyone’s abs, misogyny, mentions of sexual harassment, light smut: threesome (mxmxf), tittie fuck, cock warming, a single spank, gaslighting, toxic behavior, slut shaming
part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7                                                    masterlist
It was another scorching day. Your stomach turned at the prospect of the day ahead of you. Today was Hobi’s annual summer party. Every summer he would have a big party with literally everyone from your old high school.
Hobi’s party had a notorious reputation of being the scene where all the summer flings were established. You and Jimin would always go together and leave together, never getting too involved. It was boys like Taehyung and Jungkook who really got wild at this.
You hadn’t even thought about how different this party would be for you now, especially after Jimin’s. Normally you and him would catch up with old friends, drink a little bit, but mostly just enjoy the music and have fun together.
Not only would you not be able to hang out with Jimin, but you also would not be able to avoid the heart of party. Hook-up central. The pool.
You shuddered thinking about the last time you were in a pool, where Jungkook had just groped you so openly and you just let him. You liked it. 
You tried to convince yourself that Jungkook’s actions lately didn’t effect you, but for some reason the thought would leave you with a sour taste in your mouth. You and Jungkook had always been cordial, he was part of your friend group, but you two were never specifically that close. You were comfortable with him, but Taehyung was definitely more approachable even back then.
You had texted Taehyung about going to the party together, but he had already made plans to go with Jungkook, and that was the last person you wanted to see.
You really only had one option left.
Next thing you know, you’re back at Jimin’s doorstep, remembering with a wave of guilt how you left him to go fool around with Taehyung just around a week ago. You rang the doorbell.
“Who is it?” You heard from inside.
“It’s me”
Nothing.
“Jimin?”
The door cracked open slightly. Jimin was shirtless, his skin now significantly tanned from when you last saw him, and also his muscles surprisingly more defined. He had clearly been working out a lot since you last saw him.
“Oh hey” His eyes softened when the met yours but you could see the sadness in them. Your heart clenched. You pushed past the door and threw yourself into his arms, giving him the tightest hug you could conjure. “Are you okay?” His familiar scent overwhelmed you, and you wanted to just melt into him.
You nodded, cheek pressed against his shoulder, “God I missed you so much. Jimin stroked your back affectionately before pressing his lips to the top of your head. You looked up at him. “I am so sorry Jimin”
Jimin forced a slight smile, “It’s…fine. What’s going on, is everything okay?”
Not leaving his arms for a second you spilled. You told him everything that transpired. Every thought you had, Every regret. You told him about what really happened at his party, what happened after. You told him about jungkook, taehyung, everything. You could no longer bare to keep anything from your best friend.
You hadn’t noticed, but Jimin was now clenching your waist tightly, his eyes raging.
“Jungkook did what” After a few moments of silence to take in everything you said, Jimin was furious.
You took his hands into yours and sat him down on his bed. “Look it doesn’t matter.” Lies. “I just, I’m so sorry about all of this. I’m such an idiot—“
Jimin pulled away from you, shaking his head. “No way. You have no reason to be sorry. This is NOT your fault. I’m going to fucking kill Jungkook” He tilted his head in anger.
“Jimin, it’s okay just—“
“It’s OKAY?” Jimin yelled, “You’re OKAY with the fact that Jungkook just fucking stuck his fingers in you? And…that fucking Taehyung too…he didn’t do anything to stop him? What the fuck?”
“It’s really not like that Jimin” Jimin ignored you and cracked his knuckles.
“I didn’t” Your voice went small, “I didn’t try and stop him. It’s my fault” Jimin stared at you.
“You know, you could be a lot of things, but I would have never thought you were stupid.” He inhaled sharply before easing his voice back to an appropriate volume, “Are you okay? Like seriously.”
“I think so.”
“Shit y/n. SHIT” Jimin tossed a pillow across the room in frustration before buying his head in his lap.
“Jimin…” You ran your hand through his hair as he tried to calm down.
“I’m the one that should be sorry. God I was such as ass to you. After we had sex too, ugh I regret it so much. The things I said I mean…not the sex. You’re my best friend, it’s my job to protect you and be there for you, and make sure you don’t get hurt. I made our relationship complicated and I’m sorry.” Jim-in raised his face, giving up an intense look, “But so help me y/n, if Jeon Jungkook or Kim Taehyung have the audacity to show their face to me tonight, I will FUCKING end them”
Jimin decided it was best for you two to stick together like usual during the party. You decided to forgo the swimwear completely for the evening, opting instead for a a pair of denim shorts and a tube top. Jimin would have preferred you cover up more, but he didn’t say anything. You put a glittery body spray that added a nice shimmer to your skin in the sunlight.
Hobi’s house was gigantic. Even after all these years, it always excited you to come see all the new things they may have added. Flat screen TVs in the kitchen, a glow in the dark pool table, a whole dance floor, each year brough surprises. Hobi’s pool was on the roof of the house, infinity style. You could already hear the music blasting. It was comforting that there were already a lot of people there, so your entrance could go unnoticed. You saw Taehyung’s white convertible parked from the corner of your eye, letting you know he was already there. Jimin parked the car. You both sat for a while, simply listening the loud bass vibrate your surroundings. The music gave you a sense of confidence. You reached for Jimin’s hand but he pulled it away.
“Let’s just be normal tonight” He tried to smile. You wanted to roll your eyes. He was so hot and cold. You got out of the car. You could see people standing around smoking, old friends hugging and taking selfies. Red plastic cups everywhere. Shirtless guys, bikini-clad girls, familiar faces. It felt like an out of body experience. You followed Jimin, who chose to wear a loose white muscle tee that showed off his toned arms.
“Oh my GOD! Y/n!” You heard some familiar voices of girls from your high school. You smiled and waved, “GIRL YOU LOOK SO GOOD YESSS” You giggled. More girls crowded you, fawning you with compliments, but the attention was short living, as soon they noticed Jimin who was by your side.
Now this glow up made them drool.
“Park Jimin!” “Have you been working out?” “Holy shit, wanna come over later?” “Jiminieeee I missed you oh my gosh”
Good. Take him away sea of ladies. You thought to yourself. Jimin turned to look back at you in worry as he got dragged away. You winked and gave him a supportive thumbs up. Once Jimin was out of sight, you decided to look for Taehyung. 
Where to look first? The pool. You climbed the stairs until you finally got to Hobi’s rooftop, walking out into the intense sun. The pool was packed, music louder here than before. People seemed to be having a great time. There was volleyball, chicken, all sorts of games happening. People were jumping, splashing, it was truly a sight to behold. You saw Junkook right away, with a girl on his shoulders wrestling playfully with Hobi in the water. You stared at him, jaw clenching at how carefree he looked.
“Princess” You turned to see Taehyung, dressed still in partially unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. In his hand was a cup of what you assumed was beer. “Good to see you” He places a firm kiss onto your lips, lingering a bit. You flinched at the sudden action.
“Taehyung what the fuck” You whispered, looking around to make sure no one had seen you. Taehyung chuckled, wrapping his hand around your waist. His eyes followed where you had been looking earlier.
“Wanna dance with me?” You had no response. Especially because while the two of you were strictly hooking up, Taehyung did seem to really like you, but you suddenly felt overwhelmed. So many people would see you two together. Someone would tell Jimin. And then Jimin would start a fight. Taehyung noticed your hesitation.
“I…I’ll be right back” You wiggled out of Taehyungs grasp and rapidly made your way through the crowd before he could stop you. You barely glanced back long enough to see a confused and slightly hurt look on Taehyung’s face.
It wasn’t long before you heard a whistle.
“Y/n! Babe! Get that sexy ass in the pool” Jungkook cat called. Hobi playfully splashed him, rolling his eyes. The girl on his shoulders just giggled. “Bet I could take you both, if you know what I mean” He winked. You glared at him.
“Excuse me” You felt yourself getting dizzy as Jimin’s voice came booming across the pool. You had no idea when he got up here. He had a few girls surrounding him, but his eyes were glued onto you and Jungkook, who was still in the pool a few feet away from you. He made his way over to you, pulling you back behind him, gritting his teeth. “Get out of the pool Jeon” He spat.
“Nah I’m good Jimin. But hey, I’d be down to share. You me and y/n. Sounds fun” You could hear Hobi mention to the girl that she should probably leave.
“I can’t believe I’ve let you live this long after what you did” Jimin growled, curling his hands into a fist.
Jungkook ran a hand through his hair and smirked, “The fuck did I do? She’s the one screwing Taehyung left right and center. Get mad at her. Bros before Hoes” You placed your hands on Jimin’s arm to keep him from jumping into the pool and pounding Jungkook’s face.
“Jungkook, that’s enough” Hobi said, trying to keep a playful demeanor, “Come on guys, let’s not kill the vibe. Take it inside”
“Any guy here could make a move on her and she’d sleep with them. Because she can. She’s a slut now.” Jungkook raised himself out of the pool, the water dripping down his intense muscles. His tattoos gleamed in the sunlight.
“Inside. Now.” Hobi’s voice became more stern. Jungkook put his hands up in defense. You followed Jimin’s lead and went down into the house, Jungkook trailing closely behind. The three of you reached Hobi’s bedroom.
“Tell me one good reason that I shouldn’t smash your face” Jimin sneered. Jungkook, to your dismay, could not stop smiling.
“I dare you to try”
“Guys!” You finally intervened. “Please, let’s just talk it out” You plopped down on Hobi’s bed. “I wanna get back to the party so just make it quick”
Jungkook suddenly pulled down his shorts. You quickly covered your eyes and Jimin yelled out “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Let’s just have sex.” He whined “It would be so good, think about it. It’s like revenge sex, hate sex, jealous sex all in one.”
You could hear him stroke himself slightly, and you opened your eyes to watch. Jungkook had a body of a God. Your heart raced, unsure if this was a dream.
“You’re insane. I am not having sex with you. And y/n is definitely not.” Jimin approached Jungkook with the intention of pushing him away, but Jungkook was stronger, and simply held Jimin in place, kissing him on the lips. Your eyes widened at the scene. Never would you have thought you would see two of the hottest guys you knew kissing right in front of your eyes.
Jimin pushed Jungkook back, “Dude what the fuck?”
Jungkook licked his lips, “Come on Jimin, don’t be a prude, live a little. It’s an experience”
“My problem isn’t fucking you, it’s you fucking Y/N”
Jungkook turned to you. “Do you want to do this? Do you wanna try it out?”
You bit your lip. You did fantasize about having one someday, just not necessarily with these people. However, Jungkook looked stunning and Jimin made your heart race. It could be amazing.
“I guess I’d be down to experiment…but I don’t know if I’ll like it” You commented, hugging your knees to your chest. Jungkook knelt down and kissed the tops of your knees.
“Oh baby girl, there’s no stopping me once I get my hands on you”
You didn’t have time to process what he said before he was pulling down your shorts and pulling off your top. Your naked breasts bounced in front of his eyes.
“Oh fuck yes” He muttered. He motioned for Jimin to join him on the ground. Next thing you knew, both boys were on their knees before you, each one with their mouth latched to one of your breasts. It was the most erotic sensation you had ever felt. It was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the loud moans that slid past your lips.
“Oh my…holy…shit that feels” Your sentences were unable to form, it was as if the electric pulses of the way their tongues circled and lapped at your sensitive nipples shut down the rest of your brain. Waves of heat seared through your veins and your hips bucked up unconsciously. Jungkook, who was already naked, helped you lay back on the bed.
“Now, Jimin. Since you two actually like each other or whatever, I’ll let you pick.” He motioned towards your body that was squirming around and begging for their attention. “Pussy or tits”
Jimin frowned at Jungkook’s coarse language, but scanned your body nevertheless, considering his options.
“You are not getting inside her.” He mumbled. Jungkook shrugged.
“Either works” He climbed over your face so that his knees were on either side of you. His large hands pushed your breasts together as he let his long, thick cock slap against your glittering skin. The view wasn’t ideal, but once you felt Jimin’s soft fingers caressing your thighs, you relaxed immediately.
“Condom?” Jungkook asked. Jimin smirked slightly and shook his head. “Oh wow, Park Jimin’s gonna take his bitch raw. Impressive”
“I’m protected you idiot” You mumbled, shutting your eyes so you could focus on the feeling of Jungkook slowly sliding his cock in between your heaving breasts. The invasion accelerated your heartrate. The way his tip just rubbed against the valley of your chest almost feverishly as he picked up his face. You were so turned on you couldn’t believe it.
Jungkook let out soft grunts as he thrusted into you. Meanwhile you could hear Jimin undress and start stroking himself, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. Your thighs trembled in anticipation.
Finally Jimin was hard and ready for you. He watched carefully as Jungkook fucked your tits mercilessly, his hands clenching your breasts so harshly you were afraid they might bruise. You felt Jimin tease your exposed folds with the tip of his cock. You let out a whimper when he backed up a little to continue stroking himself.
“Jimin” You whined helplessly, “Jimin please. I wanna feel you please”
“I…” Jimin still wasn’t sure that he wanted to do this. Seeing you, with Jungkook almost sitting on your face and using you like a sex doll, it made him feel queasy.
“Jimin baby please I need you” Your voice almost sounded to him like a cry for help. His eyes narrowed at Jungkook who was too fucked out to notice.
Suddenly you felt something wet sprawl all over your stomach. Jungkook came. Everywhere.
“Fuck that was so good” He groaned, releasing his hold on your aching breasts only long enough to slap them harshly before squeezing them again one last time. He carefully got off of you and stood up. You opened your eyes to see Jimin still standing where he was, only this time with his cock out in his hand. Jungkook began to dress himself.
“You missed out Jimin. Oh well” He winked, and as if nothing happened, he was gone.
You and Jimin were silent.
“I…” Jimin stuttered, slightly embarrassed that he froze up and didn’t join in, “I just…couldn’t. The way he was just, using you, I felt…dirty”
You sighed. “Come here” He obeyed, cuddling up behind you. He wasn’t as hard as he could be, so you figured you might as well assist him with that.
You reached down and began stroking his cock. He nestled his face into your neck.
“I’m so sorry y/n” He whispered before letting out a pleasurable whine “I’m so sorry”
He kept apologizing as you jacked him off, eventually spitting in your hands to increase speed at which you pumped him up and down along his length. Something about his pitiful whining was turning you on a lot. You wrapped your whole hand around his cock and guided it in between your ass. Jimin moaned loudly.
“Oh my godddd” He exhaled as you wiggled your ass back and he entered you from behind. “Can we just stay like this for a bit baby? Can you keep my cock warm while I cuddle you hm?”
You nodded, and he softly kissed your neck.
“You’re mine. I’m never sharing you again”
<-----previous                                                                 next------>
A/N: i know the smut was very much not satisfying in this, i promise the next part is nice n dirty. hehe. 
taglist: (lmk if you wanna be added!!) @honeyspillings @hollowtree10
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echo-hiraeth · 3 years
Text
Princesa - Frankie Morales x F!Reader
Summary: Frankie is eager to find out what it is his girl does for a living, but she’s rather reserved about it. Until they run into each other at a birthday party.
Warnings: Profanities, mentions of injury, little bit of angst, but overall very fluff
Masterlist
A/n: I didn’t pick a specific princess, so everyone can feel included :)) feel free to imagine whichever one lol, go wild!
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“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”, he asked, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck.
You scratched at his scalp, smiling down at him. “I get what you’re trying to do”, you chuckle.
“What? Bull-shit! Me, a secret agenda?”, he jested, lying his absolute ass off.
“You jerk! Pretending to care about my safety huh?”, you continued to taunt.
He poked your sides, burying his scruff in your neck. “Can you blame me? You work in ‘entertainment’ that could literally be anything, I just want to knowwww”, he whined.
“Patience, my dear, is the greatest virtue of all. Now unhand me, I have entertainment business to attend tomorrow.”
He pouted, tightening his strong arms around you. “Why can’t you just stay the night, princesa?”
“Because I have a lot of getting ready to do”, you answered, wiggling out of his iron grip.
“Alright, alright, fair enough, but let me come see you after”, he bargained, handing you your shirt off the floor.
You put it on, standing up to button your jeans. “I’ll text you, okay? I love you Frankie.”
He kissed you goodnight, walking you to your car and waving as you drive past. Luckily he had something to preoccupy his mind tomorrow, it was one of Redfly’s girls’ birthday. Tom had invited all the guys to help him out, a bunch of seven year-olds not exactly something he was equipped for.
The two of you had been dating for about half a year now, though you’d only gone public in your fourth month. Frankie had introduced you to some of the guys already, Redly and Ironhead being the ones you had yet to meet. So when you got an e-mail seeing if you could attend a seven year-old’s birthday tomorrow as a Disney princess. The one big mystery had been your job, you’d roughly told Frankie what you did without ever telling him what you did. It had been a big deal to you, some of your exes either breaking up over it or being really creepy about it. Everything had gone so smoothly with Frankie, as if it was always meant to be, and the longer you were dating, the more the talk about your job stressed you out.
The next morning you were up early, showering while trying to think of a way to tell Frankie. Too bad you weren’t allowed to drink on the job, you could use a shot for courage right about now, at ten am in the morning. Getting out of the shower you made your way to your wardrobe, pulling out the drycleaner’s bag with your dress for the day. You put on all the layers, trotting back to the bathroom to do your make-up and put on that damned wig. They really didn’t pay you enough for this, more than once had you nearly passed out from the heat, the wig and excessive uniform nothing short of restricting and suffocating in summer.
You sat down in the kitchen, eating a quick lunch and checking up on your work e-mails before heading off. The drive was supposed to be just under two hours, so you had time to rehearse your little act in the car, singing along to the karaoke version of the assigned princess’ song. You loved it though, seeing those kids’ faces light up as you walked into the room, tugging on the skirt of your dress, singing along with you. It was a very fulfilling job, but a tough industry nonetheless, more than once had a father taken you aside, asking you if you did anything else on the side. It was downright inappropriate and having to walk it off and smile hadn’t always proved easy. You had a good feeling about today though, humming along to the music as you drove, waving at kids and parents in passing.
As per usual you parked a couple houses down the road, not wanting to blow your cover of being a mundane girl rather than a glorified princess. You texted the father of the kid, communicating that you were ready to go. He texted you the OK, telling you to just come around the back. You took a deep breath, putting on your trademark smile as you opened the fence, walking into the garden.
“Look kids, the princess is here!”, somebody announced.
About a dozen of little heads turned your way, some squealing and screaming went along with it, as per usual. You waved excitedly, making a reverence to the birthday girl.
“Tessa! Happy birthday darling!”, you cooed, engulfing the little girl in a hug.
Some of the kids gathered around you, immediately starting the crossfire of interrogation, asking where your prince was, if the other princesses would be coming too, where your castle was, and so on and on. You answered each and every one of their questions, giggling and chuckling as they grew more and more excited.
Frankie was in the kitchen when you arrived, flipping pancakes with Santiago. “Think the princess is here”, he sighed.
“Think she’s hot?”, Pope asked.
“Hope not, Benny won’t be able to keep his hands off”, he chuckled.
Will walked in with some empty bottles. “Those kids are gonna sleep well tonight.”
“Ironhead”, Santi called, “she hot?”
He wolf-whistled, fervently nodding. “Drop-dead-gorgeous is what she is! Go have a look, I’ll take over.”
The two of them went outside with some new bottles of soda and water, setting them down on the table before looking in the direction of all the commotion. Frankie was sipping on some coke as he followed Santi, nearly choking on his drink as he spotted you.
“No way, Fish!”, Santi laughed, doubling over in his enthusiasm.
“That your girl?”, Tom asked with a confused look on his face.
He was rendered speechless, just slowly nodding as he looked at you. This was your “entertainment” job you refused to tell him about? So you weren’t like a private dancer? Just a.. princess for hire? He didn’t know whether to be relieved or not, feeling bewildered more than anything. When the initial shock settled he could actually take a good look at you. Will was right, you did look gorgeous, beaming like that. The dress was beautiful too, making you look regal, if not divine. It was a sight Frankie could get used to, you were adorable. You looked up from where you were crouched, talking to some kid and locked eyes with him.
A fucking deer in headlights. You felt your heart drop, blood rushing to your face. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure, not wanting any of the kids to suspect anything was off. But fuck, this wasn’t the plan at all.
He disappeared back into the kitchen, a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. At least Benny would keep his hands off. Will clasped his shoulder, grinning wickedly. “Goddamn Fish, you got yourself a whole princess, huh?”
Normally you felt rather comfortable in your role, singing and dancing for and with the kids as they please, but now, knowing that your boyfriend was here.. it was gonna be a long two hours. Everything was fine until Tessa tugged on your corset, beckoning you to bend down a little.
“Yes, dear?”, you asked.
“My uncles are staring at you”, she whispered, “maybe you should dance with them.”
Your lips curled up involuntarily, your bashfulness gaining the upper hand. “Is that what you really want, Tessa?”
The little girl nodded, twisting some of your locks around her tiny finger. “But uncle Frankie has a girlfriend, so you can’t dance with him”, she explained.
“Of course, that would not be very ladylike”, you assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Your pick, love.”
She hauled you over to Santiago of all guys, giggling as she ran away, leaving the two of you just awkwardly standing there. “Tessa wants us to dance”, you sighed, picking at your fingers.
“Did she now?”, he humoured, “Well who am I to turn a princess down.”
He extended his hand, motioning for you to take it. And so you did. The two of you walked back over to the improvised dance floor. Everyone’s eyes were on you now, as Santiago placed a hand on your waist, the other one holding onto your palm. It was one simple waltz, where he learned this you didn’t know, but as you spun around you caught a glimpse of your surroundings. All the way in the back stood Frankie, leaning against a doorpost.
“Don’t worry about him, he can take it”, Pope soothed you, circling around once more.
You twirled out of his grasp, only to come back in four counts later. “I just feel bad that I didn’t tell him.”
“He’ll understand, but for now, let’s annoy him a bit more.”
You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at this, nodding before you devoted all your attention to the dance again. At the end you curtsied, as did he, pressing a tender kiss to your palm. You saw Frankie shift in the corner of your eye, Benny already making his way over to you.
“Got one more for me?”, he asked, clearly wanting to play along.
You made another reverence, accepting yet again. “How pissed is he gonna be?”, you questioned as he laid his hands on you.
“Fuming”, Benny chuckled, starting to sway along to the music.
It became clear that he was an inexperienced dancer when he stepped on your toes for the fourth time. You just smiled at him, despite wanting to curse him out. He wasn’t doing it on purpose though, offering a mumbled apology each time it happened. That was until he stepped on your foot mid, twirl, making you bend it at an awkward angle. You heard somewhat of a crack before losing your balance. Because he was so close he had no issue steadying you.
“I think I just sprained my ankle”, you whispered, smile faltering due to your discomfort.
“Can you stand on it?”
You get tried to put some more weight on it, nearly falling in your attempt. Benny caught you yet again, putting your arm around his shoulder, guiding you towards one of the chairs.
Frankie was by your side before you could so much as blink, crouching down next to your chair. “Everything alright?”
“Her ankle’s fu- not good”, Benny informed him, grabbing the nearest bottle of water.
“We should take this inside, away from the kids”, you whispered, noticing the little heads turned in your direction.
Frankie nodded, sliding an arm under the backs of your knees, swiftly picking you up. He carried you into the house without a word, setting you down on the couch. You bent over to slide your heel off, whining at the sensitivity.
“What happened out there?”, he asked from the kitchen.
You lifted your skirt to get a good look. “He stepped on my foot and I bent it.”
“Shit – think it’s broken?” He knelt down again, resting your foot on his thigh as he carefully laid some ice on it.
You flinched at the touch, pursing your lips as you nodded rather frantically. “Yep, yep, yep. That’s never a good sign.”
“Okay, I’m taking you to the ER, c’mon”, he announced, once again picking you up. “I know my truck is no carriage but..”
You playfully hit his shoulder. “Don’t you dare make fun of me now.”
 He sat with you the entire time you were in the ER. Since you weren’t injured that badly you mostly were just stuck in the waiting room, in pure agony. You got some strange looks in your dress, but you’d abandoned the wig and corset. Frankie stuck by your side the entire time, kissing you forehead and holding your hand when he felt like it.
“I think you’re up, princesa”, he murmured, pointing towards the doctor approaching you.
 You had indeed fractured your ankle. The x-rays proved as much, a clean break on the bone. The doctor gave you some advice as to how to treat it and what not to do and left you in a small room with Frankie, waiting for a nurse to come apply your cast.
“Are you mad?”, you asked quietly.
He quirked a brow at you, trying to read you. “What?”
“Well.. the dancing and just not telling you and-“
He kissed you, shushing you with his mouth. “Honey, you were doing your job and the guys were just playing around. Why would I be mad?”
“It’s just that.. well in the past my job has.. you know, put an end to things…”, you said with a trembling lip.
He cupped your face, making you look up at him. “I don’t care about what you do for a living, baby, princess or not, you’ll always be my princesa.”
You blinked away a few tears, leaning back in to close the gap once again. “I love you so much, Frankie.”
“Te quiero mucho, mi amor. But.. you do owe me a dance.”
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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years
Text
Day 30, Post 1 by @blimeypeople
Hi! This is my first time writing a fiction story in English (I'm not a native english speaker) and it's unbetaed :(  If you have time to spot something wrong or if this story doesn't make any sense, just let me know, pretty please?
Thanks for hosting this fest. You're all so awesome!
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Title: Don’t run, please.
Author: blimey,people
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Prompt: Parenthood
Rating: G
Hermione Granger-Weasley really thought her life was perfect, that she had achieved everything she wanted and made her heart happy: she had a husband who loved her, a job she enjoyed, saw her friends and family whenever she could (well Sunday lunches at The Burrow were an unwritten rule but she enjoyed them a lot), but then what was she doing running through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic? Hiding from her husband, that's what she was doing. She turned on the corner of one of the corridors, she was no longer running, but she was walking hurriedly heading in the direction of the main library of the Ministry, so big and wide that not only was it difficult to locate the books you needed, but also the people that were inside. The best hiding place, Hermione thought and quickened her pace when she saw him: Ron, standing in front of the large wooden doors, staring at his shoes in his scarlet Auror team uniform, which was somewhat wrinkled. Probably coming back from training, Hermione barely had time to think when she turned around running to the opposite side. They were quite far apart, so it wouldn’t be that easy for him to reach her but he was faster.
  "Hermione!" She heard him scream, but she couldn't stop, she was scared, she was afraid of having a conversation with him. She accelerated her escape as she felt his footsteps getting closer.
  "Hermione! Don't run, please! " She had heard that voice a few times. Her memories took her to a particular occasion, when she was also hiding, but from evil forces who wanted to end their lives and the life of their best friend. She couldn’t resist his voice, she had resisted it countless times while he asked her for forgiveness inside the horrendous tent. It hurt her soul, it hurt her not being able to hug him telling him how much she loved him, but her pride won. Only months later, she was able to achieve what her heart and mind most wanted: to reveal her feelings and be reciprocated. Now her heart and mind told her this was far more important, that this could perhaps destroy the relationship that with so much love, time and dedication they had built, this could possibly end one of their most cherished dreams, burst the bubble of joy and emotion that had appeared inside them almost three months ago. This could take away their most precious gift: their future child.
  So she stopped, took a deep breath, and waited for him to catch up with her. It didn't take many seconds when she felt his long fingers capture her left wrist leading her towards a deserted office.
  I should’ve flooed home, Hermione thought as she walked alongside Ron. He would have found me there in an instant though, I should’ve gone to..., she tried to complete the thought, when she was struck by doubt. Her choices were limited in terms of places where she could just go to think without being seen, without being interrupted, no questions being asked by anyone. Her childhood room in her parents' house might have been a great option, but now recently her parents had semi-retired from their jobs (occasionally they went to the office in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, at times they took turns and one of them stayed home while the other went to work), thus Hermione didn't know for sure when the house was thoroughly empty. Besides if they found her in her old room on a Friday lunch, at the time in which she should still be at the Ministry plus they were aware that, due to her almost obsession with completing every unfinished task at the end of the week, Fridays were her most complicated days at work, it would potentially lead them to ask her thousands of questions and if she chose to answer truthfully, as she had done since she met them again in Australia two months after the war, tired of hiding things from them. This time, though, she was certain they wouldn’t be as understanding as they were back then. Now the situation wasn't just about her, it involved someone more important and vulnerable, someone they hadn't met yet but they already loved.
  Her parents, Jean and Hugo, were over the moon since the day they learned about the arrival of their first grandson or granddaughter. The imminent growth of their little family filled them with infinite joy. On countless moments, mainly when Hermione and Ron would give them the news about the birth of a new child in the ever growing Weasley family, the faces of Jean and Hugo gave away what they wanted: they were dying to ask her when she and Ron would finally decide to have one of their own. Therefore they were ecstatic. The decision to adapt a room on the first floor as a playroom for their future grandson or granddaughter came easily. Well, we don’t need a library anymore, do we, Hugo?, said her mom. It took them a week to disappear the shelves loaded with books that were once part of the room. Toys, kids books, little stuffed animals, big stuffed animals, a white cot and the largest most colorful collection of clothes Hermione had ever seen overflowed the rather large space. Apparently, her mother considered it was better to have more variety than later needing a neon green footie embroidered with dinosaurs and not having it on hand. Her father, more serene and restrained, but just as enthusiastic, had bought a beautiful memoir book for the baby, where he himself would be in charge of writing down every detail of his or her first year of life. However, Hermione was sure something was wrong with her for she hadn't been able to share the same level of enthusiasm of her parents or her husband hence she just smiled everytime they mentioned the baby. Therefore, she was certain Jean and Hugo would probably agree with Ron on this issue. So now he was being proven right, they would help him convince her to "do the right thing for the baby." Except she honestly couldn’t discern what was right anymore so the confusion and fear consumed her. She loved her job, enjoyed the responsibilities that came with it, rejoiced in every new challenge she encountered no matter the outcome, she was sure of it. Her newly discovered feelings for the little human being growing inside of her were what confused and scared her at the same time.
  Ron guided her to an old and solitary chair within the rather desolated office gently helping her to sit on it. Rather than sitting beside Hermione, he stood in front of her and crouched down. He took one of her hands, placed it on top of her knee, gently stroking it.
  “Hermione, the evidence is overwhelming. If they were able to send an object specifically charmed to harm you into your office, it is because they aren’t our most common enemies. It means they are doing their homework figuring out your routines. They’ve been following you for at least a few weeks. They knew that only us usually go there so you would open the package without a second thought,” Ron couldn't control the tone of sadness, anger and despair as he spoke.
  Minutes before lunch, Hermione received a small package wrapped in a black paper with little stars, the wrapping of Hermione's new favorite bookstore in Muggle London. She frequently went there alone and sometimes Ron accompanied her. She ran to get it, unwrapping it in an instant. She didn’t even have time to see the title of the literary work, when the book came to life and suspended in the air began to hit her repeatedly, increasingly hard on the chest, arms, legs. Her wand was on the handbag she regularly took to lunch. The book kept hitting her, in one moment heading for her belly. Hermione started to scream, moving as far as she could from the object. In seconds, the auror who was stationed outside her office managed to undo the spell. It wasn’t the first threat, that's why the auror guarded her office. Whoever was behind it, had tried to harm her on previous occasions but they had never been so close to actually hurting her. The spell was very powerful, the package was able to pass the rigorous inspection of the experienced auror. A mother who genuinely loved her child would already be home, protecting him or her by being away from danger, the thought stunned her. She began to run through the corridors of the Ministry even when she heard the auror screaming for her to stop. She didn’t want to see anyone, especially Ron, who a week ago had almost begged her to stay home for a few days while they determined who was threatening her.
  “Harry and I are very close to identifying who is doing this, Hermione. We just need you to get away from danger a bit… ” Ron started, looking her straight in the eyes.
  “I don't want to quit my job, Ron, not after working so hard for many years. I'm nearly there with the house-elf protection law… "
  “I know about all the work you've done, Hermione. I would never ask you to do it, if it weren't for… "
  "The baby," Hermione completed looking down, "I understand Ron, but I honestly don't think it's necessary ..."
  "Not putting our child at risk is more than necessary, Hermione, it will only be a few months," Ron interrupted quickly.
  "Ron, I can't. So many magical creatures trust in me..."
  "They will continue to trust in you when you return," said Ron.
  "We said having a child wouldn't alter our lives, that I would continue working, you know I don’t want to be a stay at home mum." Hermione felt Ron's hand tighten on top of hers.
  "It's not that. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if the situation wasn't like this," argued Ron, "Tough I must say you were the one saying having a child wouldn't alter our lives. I think you were trying to convince yourself. For my part, I believe that many things are going to change, things we won’t be able to control."
  "Ron…"
  "I reckon you're getting scared ..." Ron continued coming closer and reaching her shoulders to hug her.
  "I'm not…" Hermione tried to interrupt and wriggle out of the hug. But he knew her better than anyone. Hermione was sure he had noticed her doubts, insecurities and fears even before her.
  "I am scared too, I'm not just talking about the threats, because I can assure you that we are going to find out who is behind everything and he’s going to pay for putting you through this," his voice was harsh and he had struggled not to shout during the last sentence. "I’m positive you're scared for him or her too," his voice had taken a delicate, sweet tone, the tone he used when they fought and he wanted her to understand he was right without making her feel too bad.
  "You are doubting yourself, asking that brilliant mind of yours a ton of questions, not finding answers. You’re wondering if you’re going to do a good job or if you will love him or her enough. The fact is, Hermione, the love you will feel towards our child will never be enough, it will be infinite", he raised one of his hands caressing her cheek, “It's not about doing a good or bad job, love. It's about doing the best we can in our own way, making mistakes and learning together, because you do realize we're in this together, right?” Ron delicately squeezed her cheek, Hermione looked up, her beautiful blue eyes pierced through her with the deepest love, he lowered his hand placing it on her still small belly, “He or she deserves the world, I assure you we will give it to him or her when the time comes. What we can do now is protect our little one, we are not going to let anything happen to him or her. Okay, we should definitely find out if it’s a boy or a girl, I'm getting tired of this”, he grinned.
  In that instant, Hermione felt within her how the little life Ron and she had created began to move and the most profound love, love she only felt for the man in front of her, completely invaded her. Ron gave no sign of feeling it, but it wasn't necessary. She placed her hand on top of Ron's, looked him straight in the eye, and nodded. He smiled at her, hugging her tightly.
  At this precise moment in her life, despite her insecurities about her ability to love and protect her unborn child, the certainty of knowing Ron never made vain promises began to fill her with strength and hope. If he firmly believed everything would be fine, it would be. If he was by her side on this adventure, there was no doubt the next few years would be different, challenging, but wonderfully incredible.
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