#it’s an unfortunate tale but I don’t think about it much :

[slayedx]

Needy

summary: peter comes across sex pollen on one of his missions

cw: choking, fem! reader, squirting, choking, a little degradation, daddy kink, dom! peter

a/n: ITS FINALLY OUT AHHHHH

you were a nervous wreck

peter had gone on a mission and you had yet to hear from him since he told you that they arrived at the warehouse where the mission took place. he was usually very quick to let you know when he was on his way back and give you updates, but you haven’t heard a word.

it was a fairly simple mission with low level villains. it was a classic hideout bust which tony usually took you guys on to practice real combat. it’s been about four hours and you had yet to hear from him. usually the most difficult of missions would take two and a half hours.

you were pacing around the compound as you awaited their arrival; the other avengers attempted to comfort you but you were just worried sick.

it wasn’t until much later that you heard them arrive, and you ran quickly to the entrance ready to scold peter for not texting or calling however you were met with a frantic tony.

“get banner we have a situation” he pants out and you’re quick to do as he says; getting the scientist and bringing him to the ship.

however, as you attempt to hop on after bruce you are stopped by tony.

“sorry kid but i don’t think you should see him right now” he says as he blocks the door way.

“what the hell happened tony?” you wonder with a little anger at being stopped. you make out peters voice as you hear him whine.

“she’s here, i can smell her, fuck princess need you so bad, so hot fuck- baby need you” he groans and your eyes go wide at his tone of voice.

“so i guess i have to explain now huh?” tony groans as he steers you back into the compound.

tony then tell you the tale of him and peter’s encounters in the warehouse where in a last attempt to get away someone threw a bomb that was composed of a high end “sex pollen” which increases libido to the point of pain, and unfortunately your boyfriend was subjected to it while tony’s suit was able to filter it out.

“sooo, he just needs sex?” you piece together as you and tony sit across from each other.

“well, i would say yes but i’m not sure what the pollen combined with his genetic composition would entail, he might be in a frantic state of mind that would cause him to injure someone” he explains.

“and hopefully banner will find a cure” he sighs out as he moves to presumably find bruce and help with a cure.

“and where is peter now!” you yell after him.

“like hell im telling you!” he yells back causing you to groan.

and that’s how, with a few bribery’s on your part, you ended up pittering down the hall at the dead of night in nothing but shorts and a tank top on your way to fuck pollen out of your boyfriend’s system.

you can hear his panting through the door. soft whines and moans are all that can be heard through the door as you walk towards the room.

he was going insane, his hand pumping his cock at any thought of you he could conjure up: you on your knees pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, you on your back; legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you, you on your hands and knees as he fucked into you from behind.

what noises would you make? how would your cute little face look? could he get you to squirt on him? how-

his thoughts are interrupted when he hears a door open; and immediately as the door peers open his senses go into overdrive. his body heats up and his cock stands at attention.

he was consumed with the thought of you

“peter” you gasp out as you look at him. he looked desperate, sweat covering his body and his face. he had a red flush that trailed down to his heaving chest and it was hard to ignore his flushed cock that looked painfully hard; as it bobbed against his abs.

“baby” he whines out panting softly; he was so damn needy and he knew that if you stood in the room for too long he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

“princess fuck- you gotta leave or else im not gonna be able to control myself” he pants out as he closes his eyes throwing his head back. he releases small whines as he waits for your response; selfishly hoping you would stay and help with his issue.

“no baby im gonna help you; gonna make it better okay?” you respond as you inch closer to him. he groans at your words skin heating up further at your promises.

“o-okay baby, but i don’t know if i’ll be able to hold back” he mewls out breath picking up in pace; as his anticipation increases.

“it’s okay peter; just do whatever you need” you say as you approach him hands moving to him cheeks, and he moans at the small touch. he looks up to see a soft smile gracing your beautiful face;

he almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

he quickly moves his lips to yours before moving his hands to your ass, as he grabs handfuls of it pulling at the fat before slamming his hand down. you yelp at the contact and he groans into this kiss. your tongues are sloppily battling as need drives your actions.

he pulls away and leans over as he whispers a small “jump” and you comply. he catches your legs as they wrap around his waist and he moves you to the bed with ease before laying you down.

he leans to hover over you as he moves his lips back to yours again; his hands planted by the sides of your head. you two continue the intense exchange before he pulls away making you whine.

he moves to stand before pulling your shorts down; moaning at the sight of your bare cunt that was already drooling on the sheets.

“aww this poor pussy; look at her crying all over my sheets, she’s been missing daddy huh?” he smirks as he strokes his cock moving to position himself in front of your slit. you whimper at the filth that comes from his mouth; causing more arousal to soak his sheets.

“been missin’ your cock daddy need you in me” you moan out moving your hips as you attempt to catch the tight ring of your cunt on his cock.

“fuck- naughty thing, you know i’d eat that cunt but i need to be in you right now, okay baby?” he pants out as he explains his reason for skipping his usual extensive foreplay; even though you were practically begging for his dick he still assured you of his actions making your heart swell.

he waits for your agreement and when he catches you nod your head he moves his hands to capture your legs folding them back into your chest as he situates himself between your thighs.

he moves one hand from your leg to alight himself with your little cunt; he taps the fat head of his cock against your clit before moving to your hole and pushing in.

he moans as his tip sinks into you; you felt like heaven. he felt like he was gonna fucking bust, but fuck he needed more.

he continues to bully his fat cock into your soaked pussy as he inches into you. you moan at the stretch; your cunt struggling to accommodate him despite taking him many times in the past.

“shit baby- fuck so good, need you to relax so i can fuck this pussy right, need you to be good and take this dick, shiiiit” he moans out as he moves one of his hands down to rub at your little clit so you can take more of his dick. he feels you flutter around him and it allows him to slide into you with more ease, and with one surge of his hips he bottoms out causing you to squeal.

“ah- feel you here daddy” you babble out as you grab the hand that was on your clit, and moves it to your throat. he groans at your actions before tightening his grip on your neck causing you to moan.

“fuck- you’re such a little slut, just waiting for someone to pound this pussy; need someone to make you go fucking dumb” he groans out as he pulls his hips back leaving only the tip of his cock in your pussy before slamming his hips back into you; bottoming out again. he continues to repeat the process at faster intervals, as he moans at the clutch of your cunt. you almost scream at the rough treatment; drooling and babbling as he fucks you dumb.

“fuck yeah baby girl needed this fucking cunt” he moans out as he pounds into you. the quiet of the compound in drowned out by the squelch of your tight cunt as he fucks into it, your slick leaking from your cunt making his dick shine in the light as he pulls out of your heat.

“hear how fucking soaked you are baby? this pussy is so excited to see me” he mocks as you hear the obscene sound of your moans and the wet pats of his hips slamming into yours.

your body reflexively inches back from his brutal thrusts as your legs shake in his hold; your hips leaning away from his cock causing him to growl.

“nuh uh baby girl, be good and take this dick” he sneers as he grabs your leg pulling you back towards him as he continues to wreck your poor cunt. at the feeling of being manhandled your cunt flutters around his dick causing him to chuckle.

he moves his hand from your throat to your clit before pressing down and rubbing tight circles. your pussy squeezes down on him at the action and he knows you’re close.

“fuck! m’ gonna cum please daddy fuck, s’too good” you babble out as tears soak your vision. he laughs at your admission before leaning down over you.

“you better hold it baby” he smirks as he removes his hand from your clit. this causes a sob to leave your throat as he continues his brutal thrusts; the stimulation of his cock fucking into your pussy still leaving you on the edge of an orgasm.

“you’re gonna cum when i cum baby; this is about daddy after all” he sings as his hips still momentarily grinding into your g-spot causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head as you tremble in his hold.

though it doesn’t last for long and he resumes his brutal pace. he fucks into you with long hard thrusts as the tip of his heavy cock abuses your g-spot. he groans as he looks down at your cunt struggling to accommodate him; your cute little cunt twitching as you strive to be good and hold in your orgasm for him. you were his good girl and his good girl deserved his cum.

his moans become more frequent as his abs tense and he knows he’s close.

“fuck- baby be good and cum on this dick” he moans, and as soon as he finishes his sentence you cum with a squeal. your pussy gushes as you squirt on him in streams; soaking him and his dick.

at the sight he moans out before burying himself into your pussy and pumping you full of his cum, and for the first time in hours he feels relieved.

that is for a few seconds as you two come down from your highs before the tingling feeling returns and he stiffens inside you.

“sorry princess but it looks like we have more to do” he smirks as he softly rocks his hips.

the next morning

“y’know we worked really hard on that cure just for you horny kids to fuck all night and keep the compound up” tony remarks as he walks into the kitchen with you and peter in it.

“im so sorry mr. stark” peter stutters out; his face a bright red.

a complete contrast to how he was fucking you last night

“it’s fine kid as long as you’re alright” he says as he grabs a water and walks back to where he came

“and i hope you used a condom kid! i don’t want little spider-man’s running around” he yells on his way out causing both of you to groan.

taglist: @enthusiastic-french-toast @spideyslemons @ally0405 @scvrltparker @enaraism @guitarromantic @anonymously-nerdy @sunnyteume @hvnnibvni @hollandsgoodgirl @crazy4books1 @annesunlight @s-enku

#peter thirst #peter parker thirst #peter x reader #peter smut #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #marvel thirst #marvel smut #marvel #marvel x reader #spiderman #spider man #spiderman smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker #smut #tom holland thirst #tom holland dom #tom holland #tom holland x reader #spider man x reader

[theroyalyandere]

About the yan!fisherman. What about a cute little siren darling that’s too colorful and loud for their own good, only to get ensnared by a angry deep sea fisherman captain. Who only promises to let them go if he can have a wish in return. (Old mermaid tales say mermaids could grant wishes to those who save them or return their hair comb) And darlings like, I wouldn’t need saving if you’d let me go. I’m not granting you a wish just because you threaten me. ( like pirates of the Caribbean, they’re hard to crack) so the fisherman captain keeps his darling on his ship in a converted tank and kills off the rest of the crew. Eventually wearing away the mermaid darlings resolve till they say yes. And the captain had been thinking about wishing the mermaid to be human but knows those tales never end well. Either his prize runs back to the sea, or one of them dies before the other due to a shortened mortal life. Which doesn’t appeal because he hates land and wants to be out at sea which he can’t if he’s constantly making sure they don’t leave him. And he wants to be with them for eternity, regardless of darling’s wishes.

So he kills two birds with one stone and wishes “for my heart’s desire”. Only the wish is twisted by his obsession, unbeknownst to darling. But they still grant it because they believe his one true desire is greed like most humans… which they’re not wrong. So he becomes a huge terrifying shark merman, or maybe a cecalia, or giant sea snake naga.

And now you’ve got a sea monster that hates humans and his shiny little siren that he can make scream and sing others to their death.

… or what about a reverse harem of deep sea fishermen turned into sea monsters to protect their little darling by one tainted wish. Darling grants the captain’s wish and it “condemns” the small boat like Davy Jones. So now mermaid darling has more to outswim.

oh my god??? I can't describe how genius you are anon! mermaid darling and her yan!fisherman turned into sea monster?!!! I'm going to combine both of the ideas and make a sea monster harem instead becauseeeeeeeeee 😮‍💨🤭 I only know a little about pirates of the Caribbean so please forgive me with the inaccuracies and I'm sorry if this is pretty short, I can continue this and turn this into a series if you like!

note: mermaid!darling is referred to as she/her please don't read if you don't feel comfortable thank you!

Warnings: yandere, dark content, gore/body horror, kidnapping, prey/hunter dynamics, death threats, manipulation

yan!sea monster harem x mermaid!darling/reader

As a mermaid, you've heard from your sisters that some of those like you were captured from those above.

You did not exactly expect to be captured by one of them, especially them.

You blame your colorful tail for attracting too much attention, you managed to throw everyone who went after you so far and your sisters think you're truly lucky but this time you ran out of luck.

Not only are you aware of the bounty set upon your head, you are also believed to be the most powerful of all mermaids which they aren't wrong about. However you have not granted any humans a wish yet. As you believe them to be the most vile of beings.

They are too brutish and rude and cruel. You did not like them one bit.

As soon as you got caught into their net you did not hesitate to flail around as an attempt to set yourself free. You snarled at everyone showing your viscious at the pesky humans.

Your sharp claws tear out through the net and smack everything with your tail. Unfortunately you got stopped by the captain.

His tall, menacing frame looming over you like a boulder with a grumpy face. He shows no reaction at your defensive state and it only scares you more than the other way around.

He corners you and kneels down to your level, he gave you an offer.

The captain will only let you go once you grant a wish of his however in your fury you instead jumped into him and pinned him down, snarling as you try to choke him.

His crew surrounds you each with a weapon in their hand, threatening to kill you unless you let go.

You kept being defiant until one of them got to restrain you setting your victim free.

The poor crew mate groans as he tries to not let you go.

The captain ordered for you to be hidden in the ship until they figure out how to break you.

So you get hidden in a cabin into a tank filled with water allowing you to live above the sea.

As long as they keep you, you refuse to agree to their conditions. Their offers being returned with a glare or an attack from you.

Until, one of the younger crew got closer to you. Watching and observing how you interact with the young one.

They all secretly watch as you the young crew mate won you over with their smiles and gentle demeanor, granting them the opportunity to see another side of yourself.

Your heart begins to soften and sing a song for the youngster.

The other crew told this to the captain and watched with his own eyes the scene unfolding. He urges the crew mate to get closer to you.

One by one they start to get obsessed with you. The crew either fight on who's turn to give you some food to eat or they wrestle among each other who gets to hear you sing to them first.

It only got worse when the captain got involved, one night he caught himself listening to your melodies and felt something he had never experienced before.

He eventually chased for this feeling and he knew that only you can satisfy him and his dark desires.

So his desire further strayed away from what he wanted and darker as his desires were focused on you.

At one point his impatience got into him and barged into the cabin you're at and threatens to kill the crew mate you grew fond of, your eyes pool with pearls and panic present on your face as you try to grab onto him.

He tells you that he will certainly finish the crew mate if you don't agree immediately, he asks you to grant his wish and you ask him what it is. He replies..

"for my heart's desire"

You assume it has something to do with wealth and power but oh you were wrong.

You watch as the captain slowly morphs into a sea monster. The scene is so grotesque that you tried to shield yourself away from the scene.

Outside the cabin, the whole crew starts to fall ill and scream in pain as their bodies start to turn different. Their skin turning into scales or being covered by corals and such.

Even the young crew mate you adored was not spared from the awful transformation. As the wish manifests into reality so does a storm, overturning the ship upside down as an enormous wave swallows the ship whole.

The ship gets wrecked and you try to escape into the ocean and swim away only to get caught by a powerful force wrapped around you and you turn to face it.

Only a horrifying sight greets you as the crew were turned into predatory monsters that will sure haunt all over the seas.

The one keeping you captive is the captain, he became an enormous sea monster that towers over you. With long tentacles and his eyes glowing with evil.

His tentacles engulf your whole being as you struggle to get out of his hold, blocking you away from the rest of the world.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #fem reader #fem!reader #female reader #yandere sea monster #yan!sea monster #yan!fisherman #yandere fisherman #mermaid reader #mermaid darling

[hard-core-super-star]

kate who gets horny when she sees reader wearing her hoddie 🙏🙏

-💜

what your hands were made for [K.Bishop]

pairing: bottom!kate bishop x top!reader

summary: kate ruins a cute moment by getting a little too excited about you wearing her hoodie.

warnings: SMUT -> minors, this isn't for you [grinding/humping; pet play is more than a little implied...my hand slipped :); kate gets needy and cums very fast; teasing; kate's praise kink goes brrr; subby puppy gf kate]

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: i've missed writing for kate so much that i blacked out and wrote most of this in one sitting. i literally can't tell you who the dominant one is supposed to be here and i feel like that's exactly the way kate would like it lmao. anywho, i'm still thinking about the marvels so have this while i recover. i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

It’s a cold early morning in New York when your eyes open to the sight of your adorable, sleeping, girlfriend. A small smile pulls at your lips as you take her in, everything from her disheveled hair to the subtle crinkle between her eyebrows sends your heart soaring.

You can’t resist the urge to reach out and tuck a piece of her wild hair behind her ear. She stirs but only to wrap her arms tighter around your waist, an incoherent murmur of a complaint tumbling out of her parted lips. 

Kate Bishop is many things…except a morning person, something you’ve had to learn the hard way. It’s honestly a miracle she’s managed to make it to most of her early morning missions on time considering how many attempts it takes to get her to even consider getting up in the morning.

It’s hard to find her bad habit annoying when she looks so damn cute, though. 

Unfortunately for her, you’re awake, you’re hungry and Clint’s supposed to drop off her beloved golden retriever in a few hours.

You don’t necessarily understand the arrangement the two archers have but you know it can’t do Lucky any harm to be taken to the Barton’s home every once in a while. Especially during weeks when Kate is swamped with superhero work and can’t find the energy to be dragged around Central Park for a few hours.

So, you disentangle yourself from the brunette’s strong embrace and get up. 

You hear her grumble again while your hands reach for the warmest thing in sight: one of Kate’s purple hoodies chaotically thrown onto her bedside table. Any other day you’d be fighting the urge to scold her for never putting her clothes in her ridiculously large closet but today, the hoodie saves you from the cold air that nips at your skin.  

The tell-tale sound of sheets rustling around fills the room for a few seconds before Kate speaks up.

“Where are you going?” She groans, her voice carrying traces of that sleep-filled raspiness you've come to love. 

“To get ready. Clint’s coming to drop off Lucky.”

“Yeah, but that's not until later and your girlfriend wants cuddles right now.”

You turn around to face her, ready to tease her for being such a grump in the morning, only to find the archer watching you with wide eyes.

“Um…you okay, babe?”

Your voice brings her out of her thoughts and you catch sight of the pink hue that threatens to overtake her beautiful face. “Yeah…yeah, just…that hoodie looks really good on you.”

“Thank you, I stole it from my grumpy girlfriend.” 

You're technically making fun of her but all she can focus on is the way her hoodie looks on you. On the subtle smirk that pulls at your lips and the small token of possession it represents. 

She's not a jealous person or an overly controlling partner but the thought of you wearing her things, of showing you're her partner and no one else’s…stirs something inside her that she's never felt before.

You can see it. 

The way her face slowly changes from a sleepy and dazed look to hungry eyes that seem to try to devour you with a single glance. It would be startling if you didn’t know her so well.

“Come here,” she says as she extends her arms out to you.

“You’re not even going to sit up?” You can’t resist the urge to tease her even while you do exactly what she asks of you.

She merely shakes her head in response, stable hands grabbing your waist and pulling you down on top of her. You don’t even get the chance to come up with another teasing remark before she’s leaning up and stealing your thoughts away with a kiss.

You sink into her, an almost inaudible sigh slipping out of your mouth and into Kate’s as the two of you mold together. Her hands mess with the fabric of the hoodie adorning your figure but she makes no move to remove the barrier just yet.

You assume she’s just waiting for your permission to take it off until she starts caressing you over the fabric. There’s no time to question what exactly she’s doing though since her lips detach from yours only so she can nip at your jawline. “God…you look so good in my clothes, baby.”

“Yeah? Is that why you’re trying to hump the air right now?”

The groan you hear in response is exactly what you’re expecting. 

What you don’t expect however is for her hips to literally buck against the air. Your words were supposed to be a joke but of course, your girlfriend would be into it. There’s a reason you call her your golden retriever girlfriend and it’s not just because of how loyal she is.  

Her hands go from soft and exploratory to demanding in an instant and you let out a groan of your own as she maneuvers your body until she’s able to trap your knee between her legs.

She’s been awake for less than ten minutes and she already has you right where she wants you.

“Kate-” She smothers the rest of your sentence with her lips and yet you can’t find it in yourself to be mad about the interruption.

You’re too busy kissing her back to attempt to tease her once she starts moving against you, impatient hips rocking every which way to find some relief. It’s hot and adorable in ways that make your heart clench and your clit throb with need. 

“Fuck,” she mumbles against your lips.

You take the opportunity to glide your hands underneath her shirt and remove it from her in one move. She shudders, both from the cold air and the pleasure overtaking her body, and it’s a sight you don't ever want to forget.

Kate’s desperation is palpable but you enjoy watching the way she writhes under you too much to touch her the way she needs. You merely let her grind against you while your hands explore her chest, basking in the beautiful, needy, sounds you draw out of her.

You're in the middle of teasing her hardened nipples when she breaks. 

“y/n…babe…please…” There’s no sweeter sound than the sound of your girlfriend giving in to the pleasure only you can make her feel. 

“Already?” You ask through a chuckle, watching as your words make her eyes clench shut. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Shut up,” she grumbles before another moan tumbles out of her.

She grips the front of your hoodie with an iron grip, pulling you down against her so she can kiss you again. You let her do what she wants while enjoying every beautiful second of her borderline frantic movements. 

It’s unreal how fast she crumbles under you, how quick she is to lose the confident act and let herself drop into a state where all she wants, all she needs, is you. Even the air she breathes is incomparable to how alive you make her feel during moments like these.

Your lips leave hers right as you push your knee against her center. You’re sure she’s seconds away from soaking through her sweatpants considering how hard she’s humping you. 

“y/n-” She gasps, her back arched and her muscles strained while she rocks against you. “Please, I can’t…”

You admire her for a few seconds before giving her the permission she not so secretly craves. “I know, you’re just a needy pup, aren’t you? You can’t help yourself, can you, Katie?”

Her eyes fly open at that and the dazed look in her eyes is more than enough of a reward for you. She nods furiously in response, clearly only a few mess thrusts away from falling apart. “Yes, yes, I am, please, baby.”

“Good girl,” you say with that proud grin that makes her melt every time. “Go on, cum for me, puppy.”

The reaction your words coax out of her is instantaneous and it’s more than enough to leave your own underwear soaked through. Your arousal is the last thing on your mind though when you have a whiny, shaky Kate Bishop wildly grinding against you while she succumbs to her orgasm and the searing pleasure it leaves behind.  

You watch her for a few seconds, doing everything in your power to commit the sight to memory, before leaning down and pressing a few feather-light kisses to her sweaty skin. “So pretty for me, you did so good, puppy.”

The only sound that comes out of her is her heavy breathing and the quiet whine she can’t keep in every time she hears you call her puppy again. It takes her a few seconds to come back down to Earth and you wait patiently for her, pressing soft kisses all over her face and mumbling all the words that soothe the gentle storm inside of her.

Her hands finally release your hoodie and she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer and groaning when you move so you’re not pressing up against her cunt anymore.

“You okay?” You whisper against her.

“Mhmm. More than okay, actually.” 

Kate doesn’t give you a chance to respond. She doesn't give you a chance to do anything but let out a gasp as she rolls the two of you over and triumphantly lands on top of you.

She wastes no time in burying her flushed face into your neck and nuzzling the warm skin she finds.

“We’re gonna have to get up eventually, puppy,” you remind her even though you’re already running your fingers through her messy hair and basking in the intimacy of the moment. 

“That sounds like a problem for later.”

She’s technically not wrong and it’s obvious she’s mere seconds from falling asleep again so you bite your tongue and let her have her win. As far as mornings go, this might be your favorite way of spending them, tangled up completely with the archer that owns your heart.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop smut #kate bishop #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #hailee steinfeld #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #wlw #wlw fic #writing

[theresattrpgforthat]

I was wondering if you had recommendations for a game that evokes the vibe of like The Thing (or Among Us) from the social angle - there is something here passing itself off as human, as *one of us*, and we need to find out who it is. Maybe with hidden roles? It seems like there's a lot of interesting space to explore there.

Thank you!!

Theme: Hidden Role Games

Friend, I've got more games for you than I thought I was initially going to find, and each one is in a different setting! Enjoy!

What We Thought We Knew, by Mouse.

You play as a group of friends who have known each other for many years- at the very least since highschool, and have gone through many transitional phases with each other.

It has recently been revealed to you that someone in your friend group has not actually been there for all of these events- they have been implanted in the group for whatever reason and all your memories modified to fit them into the narrative. None of you know who it is -- not even the fake.

In order to find out who the fake is, you must experience some of your core memories together again, moving through them like you are those versions of yourselves again, to try and spot the mistakes in the memories, the distortions that don’t quite make sense in the context of everything else happening.

The hidden role in this game is as determined by the GM, and the fake will not know that they are the imposter at the beginning of the game. The setting for this game appears to be relatively agnostic, so you could make this a fantasy setting, a futuristic setting, or even a modern setting. Characters have four stats: Head, Heart, Flesh and Beyond. The game is designed off of Caltrop Core, so when you roll your dice according to stat, there’s graded successes/failures. Players will also get chances to identify a distortion, which helps the group figure out what pieces of information don’t add up. If you want a game with mystery for almost everyone a the table, you might want to check out this game.

Jackrabbit Parole, by Willow Willis.

Well, you screwed up. Whatever you did, it was bad enough to land your ass in prison. Not just your average state-of-the-art correctional institution, either. This place is Bad News.

Parole? Don’t make me laugh. This is your life now. There’s no help coming for you and your fellow unfortunates. You’ll shit, sleep, work and eat when and where they tell you to for the rest of your miserable existence. If you want out, there’s only three paths:

Execution. Suicide. Or escape.

And since the first two don’t sound too promising, all you’re left with is jackrabbit parole.

Jackrabbit Parole is a game about prison escapees, one of which is a Snitch. The exact setting of the prison is up to you - the only thing that matters is that you’re stuck here unless you find a way to get yourselves out. You’ll roll to determine what your characters’ relationships are, and draw cards determine your roles.

There are two special roles: the Ringleader and the Snitch. The Ringleader has access to everywhere in the prison; the Snitch wants to get as much information as possible and pass it on to the guards. The Snitch profits by keeping everyone here, which means that players cannot communicate openly about their plans. The game plays over three acts, so I think it’s pretty easy to contain inside a single session, and it comes with some suggested settings if you’re not sure where to start.

Conspire, by Cherry Picked Games.

Conspire is a hidden-role storytelling game. Players delve into any moment of conflict, real or fake, and populate the scene with shady figures. They secretly assign objectives to these in-world characters and shuffle the roles amongst themselves. Everyone draws a role to inhabit and acts them out, not knowing who any of the others are or what they are trying to accomplish. What follows is an intense tale of bluffing, brokering deals, and shaping the very universe to your whims.

This feels like a GM-Less game, with all of the roles and motives of each character determined according to the setting and people created by the group at the table. Each piece of the puzzle is created collaboratively, so you’ll know what’s going on with one or two people, but not the whole picture. If you want a game that gives everyone the same responsibilities and has the flexibility to fit the settings in your head, this might be the game for you.

Eulogy of a Fool, by Kate.

In Eulogy of a Fool, all players are attending the funeral of a Fool. However, the Fool is in this crowd, having faked her own death to collect on a life insurance policy.  Everyone in attendance must give a eulogy while the Fool tries to blend in and everyone else is trying to single out any suspicious persons.

This game consists of a series of cards, 20 of which are Identity cards, and 30 of which are relation cards. There will only be about as many cards in play as there are players for any given game, so I think having so many options allows for a different game every time you play. Each player will also have to give a eulogy about the deceased, using information given to all non-imposters, while the Fool will have to improvise as best as they can. Looking at the instructions and prep for this game, I think this game would be very easy to learn. There’s a script for the GM to follow while running the game, and the cards make it easy to generate characters on the fly. If you want a game that’s part ttrpg, part card game, this might be the game for you.

EUREKA, by @anim-ttrpgs

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is an original, fully fledged, 200-page 2d6 TTRPG from The Agency of Narrative Intrigue and Mystery inspired by The X-Files, Kolchak: The Nightstalker, and much more!

Eureka features investigation mechanics that let players take initiative, use their characters’ unique strengths to find clues, and deduce conclusions themselves rather than to just walking into a room and roll Investigate.

EUREKA’s main focus is on solving mysteries, but the way character creation is meant to be set up means that it is very likely that characters will have a lot of secrets, purposefully hidden from the rest of the group at game start. If you are playing a supernatural creature of some kind, your character will have plenty of reasons to keep their identity a secret. While the group is trying to solve whatever mystery there is, your characters will have to decide just how much they trust each—other, with dramatic reveals possibly prompting some thrilling and suspenseful moments. This game isn’t quite in it’s final form, but there’s a robust community currently play-testing it, and the folks behind the development are very eager to answer questions and help you get a game to the table.

Loyalty, by jackdawfactories.

You are the crew of a deep-space mining vessel who have just been awoken from stasis. You are coming in to land on a previously uncharted planet, and must investigate the nearby cave system for its utility to you - but of course, there’s more to it than that…

Loyalty is a game based on Ridley Scott’s Alien, and combines standard RPG mechanics with a hidden role aspect. Survive the horror you have unleashed while working out who - anyone - is the traitor in your midst.

This is a game in which more than one person could have a secret role. You draw a card from a regular deck of playing cards, and based on what kind of face you have, you are either an android infiltrator, or a human. Because the character creation is randomized, it’s totally possible to have an entirely human crew - but the players won’t know this, and thus the paranoia will still be present.

On top of this paranoia, you’ll be facing off against an alien, and the more you come up against it, the stronger it gets. There’s a win condition, a lose condition, and the possibility to eject a suspect out of an airlock. If you like heightened stakes and no good endings, this might be the game for you.

The Warmest Place to Hide, by Rosie.

The Warmest Place To Hide is a TTRPG homage to John Carpenter's The Thing. 

It is the longest night in Antarctica, and something has made its way inside the research station at which you work. You and your teammates must work together to protect yourselves from assimilation - but when the creature can make itself look like anyone and anything, who can you really trust?

Create a base, populate it with crew, then see if you can survive an alien invasion.

This is the game for folks who want a direct re-creation of The Thing. As this is a Caltrop Core game, the rules are fairly minimal and use dice pools of d4’s. You can roll randomly for your character’s background, and choose an archetype that will give you specific skills and special abilities. You’ll also receive a random assignment of “Human” or “Something Else”. If you are Something Else, you always have to opportunity to take over any dead characters.

I’m not entirely sure how you communicate to players that they are Something Else without alerting the whole table; I’m assuming that this is the sort of game that involves passing a lot of notes. I think it might also be interesting if the GM introduces other threats that could kill players so that the Thing can approach and assimilate them without the players necessarily knowing who’s doing it.

#indie ttrpgs #tabletop games #dnd #game recommendations #asks #hidden role

[unholycringebirther]

john doe with a gn partner with bad period pains?

JOHN DOE X GN!READER [PERIOD HC’S/SCENARIO]

SUMMARY: You’ve got some mighty bad period pain, but both luckily and unfortunely, John’s right there to help!

WARNINGS: PERIOD PAINS, MINORS DNI

WORDS: 1,266

A/N: Friendly reminder from a real-life enby, periods aren’t just for women! I get a period, and I am a very proud Bigender individual, Trans-men get periods, and those are %100 without a singe doubt, real men, if you still think otherwise, get the fuck off my blog. :)

HC’S:

 -Oh, he’d be so very worried about you! Especially if you, rightfully of course, are loud about your displeasure, he’d be hovering anxiously over you for hours.

-He’ll get anything you want him too, although he really has no idea what he’s doing, and will likely get most orders wrong, you’ll be seeing a example of that soon.

-Doesn’t like leaving you alone, his separation anxiety is already horrible on a good day, but when you’re in pain? In discomfort? He’ll cling to you like the world is ending, and honestly, if you’re in pain it does feel like his world is ending.

-He’ll give you lots of snuggles and whatnot, he’s usually quite touchy but he’ll only worsen during this week, especially if you’re cramping, but since he smells wet and raw you’re enjoyment could vary.

-You’ll notice his hair will move to try and smother you while he cuddles you, almost like it’s alive..

-Since he can’t cook, you could convince him to let you go for just a few minutes to go grab some takeout, he’ll be reluctant to leave but if you’re starving, well that comes first, but expect him to bring home something extremely strange.

-He talks a lot, but with while he frets and panics over you, it’ll become almost babbling, sometimes completely incoherent as he violently worries about you.

-His body is weirdly warm and cold at the same time, so if you’re looking to warm up or cool off, he might be able to help.

-If you’re like me and sweat a lot during cramps, don’t expect the sheets to be changed, he absolutely loves how your natural odour smells, though he’ll (very begrudgingly) change and wash them for you if you have a leak-through.

SCENARIO:

You moaned, clutching the heat pack to your uterus as the warmth of it starts to dwindle.

Its a tight pain, your uterus tensing achingly as you hunch more into yourself, sweat and tears of excretion building on your skin and in your eyes as a sharp stab shoots throughout your stomach.

Sounds of pain escape your mouth despite yourself, and you try to keep it quiet since your boyfriend was asleep in the other room.

It was a rare occurrence, you figured out as much when you awoke every morning to his comically large eyes staring down at you, small hearts in those even smaller pupils.

It was the only time you got some relief from his presence, not that you didn’t love your eldritch lover, but with his constant clinging and presence pressed against you, stemmed from his separation anxiety, it could get a little suffocating at times, something John didn’t seem to really understand.

He only went to sleep after you assured him you weren’t going anywhere, and that everything was fine, and his grip was tight when you tried to shimmy out of it.

It was true— everything started out fine, your stomach felt a little off but you figured it was because you hadn’t eaten yet, but shortly after you felt the tell-tale feeling of a wetness between your legs.

It lead you to laying in your bed, clutching your now empty stomach as you’d already thrown up the contents, your warm bed helped soothe your tensed muscles where the heat pack couldn’t, and your arm thrown over your eyes protected them from the light streaming through the window.

It was time to roll over onto your back, your right side getting sore where you rested all your weight on it, its been a cycle of side to back to other side for about half an hour now.

With a grunt of effort, you adjusted onto your back, the light trying to burn your retinas now removed, you remove your arm from your eyes.

You jerked violently when you met familiar wide eyes, staring down at you in concern, and if the unblinking gaze wasn’t enough to convince you of his worry, in your peripheral vision his shirt had shifted to a frowning face, how’d he even get in without you noticing?!

It was hard to see the frowning shirt as he was leaned in so close, his face only inches from yours, and because of that, you’re glad when he kept his voice down when he spoke, as a shout might’ve burst you eardrums.

“Dearest, you look so sad! Did somebody upset you?! Tell me who, tell me tell me tell me tellmetellmetellmtell—“ 

He was gripping your shoulders, panic and upset at your clear discomfort, the frown on his shirt melting downwards in the midst of his stress.

“John, calm down.” Your voice was a little gravelly even to your own ears, rumbling out more than you’re use too, and its only once you move to grip his shoulders does he stop babbling, “Its just period cramps, don’t—!“

You inhaled through your nose, you curl into yourself slightly when your stomach almost lurches at the stab in your uterus, and a small wail leaves your mouth.

You can feel John scramble, clutching desperately at you as his anxiety spiked, he didn’t like seeing you in any pain, and was always quick to remove anything or anyone causing you any sort of sting.

“Love!“ his voice grew in volume, and the air around you shifted, dropping in temperature with his worry, you tried to pull yourself together the best you could, the heat pack you’re clutching now ice-cold like the room around you.

“Fuuu.. I’m alright, ergh,” your noises didnt convince him, and his four fingers are still holding onto your shoulders tightly, he’s even more tense than you are, “Can you just, ugh, heat up my pack? It’ll help.”

He snatches up the rice-filled bag you hand to him, eager to help, though you can see how reluctant he was to leave you, rushing off to the kitchen.

You relaxed back into the bed, you and the sheets surrounding you probably stunk of sweat, but fear not, you knew for a fact you’d find John burying his nose in them later, proclaiming how good you smelt, you didn’t know which was more embarrassing.

John might be clingy, reliant and a little odd, but he truly did care, always trying his hardest to please you and make you happy despite not understanding that most people don’t want to be gifted organs, he tried.

You loved him, and he made it quite obvious how much he loved you back, his sharp yellow teeth always bared in a grin whenever his large eyes were on you, and they were always on you, whether you realise it or not.

And you kept that swirling in the back of your mind when the sound of the fire alarms blare, your stomach cramps painfully when you jump up from bed.

Running through the door, you hunched over and kept your arm around your uterus as you made way to the kitchen, desperately searching for your boyfriend.

And there he was, unharmed thankfully, leaned over a sizzling frying pan, your heat pack catching fire where it rested against the smouldering metal, the smoke wafting straight into the alarm on the roof.

“Dearest!” He cried while he turned to you, ignoring the newly-fiery heat pack cooking like an egg, “What’re you doing up?—“

He cut himself off with a loud, feral hiss when water shot down from the roof, he launched for any sort of cover from the offensive roof rain while making deranged cat noises.

Maybe next time, you should just suck it up and get it yourself, less you want your house burnt down.

#john doe x reader #john doe x you #john doe game #john doe horror game #john doe

[llondonfog]

MILK & HONEY. + dazzling fic art by @suntails <3 (also available on ao3)

“It will be alright, darling boy, I promise— everything will be alright.”

There’s no response, but Lilia doesn’t mind. His son has always been the quiet, thoughtful sort. Humming faint snatches of a lullaby long forgotten, he threads a hand through the boy’s moonlit strands, apathetic to the copper rust smears left behind. The child’s bangs have grown, he notes idly, fussing with the strands that have fallen over the boy’s face. Lilia ought to cut them soon.

“There will be time for that later,” he finishes his thought out loud, bending forward to press his lips benevolently to his son’s cool forehead— a blessing, Lilia thinks privately with a smile, examining the faint crimson outline of his lips against that pale skin. Blood of the father, blood of the son; sacrament and all that.

“But for now, my dear,” he gently strokes the backs of stained claws against the side of his boy’s face, leaving a virginal blush behind on a bloodless cheek. “It is time for you to wake up.”

Silver is five years old and held at knifepoint when he first meets his father. 

There is a man holding his small arms behind his back, another grasping at his feet, while a third laughs grimly down at his rapidly watering eyes and traces the blade delicately against his temple.

“You’ve been a burden on our village for far too long, brat,” he sneers while Silver’s rabbit heart beats fast and panicked within his heaving chest. “No mother, no father, cared for out of the kindness of our hearts, and you have the nerve to go about stealing our scraps to feed the animals?”

They’re hungry too! Silver wants to cry out, if opening his mouth wouldn’t drag the blade against his hairline. And they’re his friends, when no one else would be. 

The man, unfortunately, is right.

He has no family to speak of; an abandoned babe with odd-colored eyes, silkspun hair, and a debilitating tendency to sleep without cause like the dead themselves that had everyone in the village whispering fearful tales of curses and changelings. It didn’t help that the spring of his arrival had marked the beginning of a painful famine that would relentlessly grip the decaying land, crops failing out of a barren and cracked landscape as rivers began to bleed thin and dry. Changeling or not, it hardly took much time at all for any sympathetic feeling towards the foundling child to metamorphosize into bitter resentment at an extra mouth to feed when their own fevered children were crying out for more. Was it any wonder that he had turned to the few remaining woodland creatures for comfort, saving meager portions of his already miniscule meal to share in gratitude for their simple acceptance and affection? 

The man with the knife doesn’t wait for any answering explanation, merely smacks the blade pointedly against his cheek with a cruel, hungry gleam in those dead fish eyes, and the other two holding him still trade malicious grins. 

“It’s only fair that you pay for what you stole,” the man continues, almost kind and patient in his rationale— (I didn’t steal! Silver wants to shout, mouth dry and empty with fear. I only ever gave them food from my portion!)— and he hums with a terrifying softness at the way Silver’s frightened gaze tracks the knife’s every teasing glide about his forehead and his limbs tremble in their brutish hold. “Oh, not with your life— not at first, anyways. We’re going to scalp you; I can only imagine the price your pretty hair will fetch when we tell the traders that it's woven out of pure silver. It’s a start for what you owe us all for taking care of your worthless and lazy hide for the past five years, and then—”

He pauses as if for some grand operatic effect, savoring the way the tears helplessly gather and bubble at the edge of Silver’s lashes with a wicked smile. 

“Then, we’ll kill you and plate you tonight as dinner. I think there’s enough to go around for the rest of the village, don’t you?”

Two things happen: First, Silver bursts into tears. Second, a dark shape drops from the trees above and latches onto the man’s throat, tearing it open in one fluid movement and soaking the entire scene, Silver included, in a hot spray of blood.  

The entire woodland clearing erupts into chaotic, frenzied screaming. The other two men violently shove him forward in a futile attempt to use him as a shield and escape, and he falls numbly to the ground, limbs frozen in place out of dumb shock as shadows leap effortlessly over his head. The knife that had been so sinister just moments ago lies dull and dirtied in the forest floor by the now nearly headless corpse, and in the dim reflection of its blade, Silver can make out the similar gruesome demise of his other captors. The shrieking fearful sounds are silenced just as abruptly as they began; in less than thirty seconds, the forest has returned to its quiet, sedative self, at peace with the justice that has been served. 

Who . . ?

Quiet, gentle footsteps sound from behind him, their stride unhurried and at ease as they round his quivering, prostrate frame, and something hysterically yells in his mind that it’s poor manners to not at least look his rescuer in the eyes. 

“Hello, child,” the angel (for surely that must be, he fell from the heavens, did he not?) smiles down at him through dripping fangs.

Silver stares up through blood-splattered lashes at his savior and wonders if this is what it’s like to be stricken with love. 

The vampire takes him home. 

He laughs uproariously when Silver so shyly and seriously wonders aloud if he was truly an angel, with hands as kind and gentle as the spring sun upon the muddy bruises and dried wounds from the knife split across his face. 

He laughs at a lot of things that Silver says. It’s uncannily loud and booming for such a small man, but Silver instantly decides that he likes it.

The vampire explains that he is, well, a vampire. He even lets Silver curiously brush tiny fingers over his fangs once they’ve been cleaned of blood and gristle, smiling down at him all the while without a trace of malice that he’s grown so used to seeing. 

He tells Silver that his name is Lilia, Lilia Vanrouge. It’s a difficult name, a weighty name for Silver’s tongue to pronounce, but he rolls it softly in his mouth to savor it all the same, marveling at how much it feels like royalty. 

Lilia explains to him by the light of the fire that he’s lived for a very long time, that he’s enjoyed a life rich beyond anyone’s comprehension from all of the sights he’s seen and the wonders he’s traveled. But no creature is immortal, not even vampires, as long-lived as they may be— the years are heavier now, they ache and sting at his bones as if he’d soaked them in baptismal water. And in his many travels, he had so happened to stumble upon this empty cottage tucked away and abandoned inside this quiet, peaceful forest—

(“Like me,” Silver whispers solemnly. “Is that so?” says Lilia, summer-cherry eyes brilliant against the flames.) 

—and so he had thought, what a nice place to relax and rest his weary soul, a place for him to enjoy a rare moment of serenity before the next grand adventure swept him back out to sea. 

“How silly of me at my age to think that I could anticipate the future,” Lilia brushes his hand gently through Silver’s tangled hair, the knots easily coming undone from a mere sweep of his fingertips. Silver can’t quite recall how and when he had made his way onto the vampire’s lap, only that he is leaning his head adoringly against the man’s chest, staring up at him with bated breath.

“I didn’t expect to have to rescue my newest venture!” 

There’s no need to discuss it after that: Lilia never asks him to leave, and Silver never thinks to do so. 

It’s idyllic. Lilia feeds him, clothes him, lets him play with the forest animals for as long as he wishes. They take care of the little cottage together— Silver discovers a patch of land in the back that at one point might have been a sad attempt at a garden, but under the patient toil of the two of them, burgeons into life with all manner of flowers and vegetables. Lilia teaches him how to darn his socks and how to properly use a whetstone. He tucks Silver into the small bed alongside him and paints visions of faraway worlds upon the thin wooden walls, a better storyteller than any traveling bard that had come to the village before.

When Silver calls him ‘Father’ for the first time, he doesn’t laugh. 

In return, Silver doesn’t complain when he helps Lilia mop up any traces of blood from the traveler he’s feasted upon for the night. 

His father is not a monster, this Silver knows as truly as the sun travels through the sky. The weary men and women who wander across their little abode are treated with nothing but kindness— a warm seat by the fire, a fresh meal to eat, and a soft place to rest their heads. All that his father asks of them is to spare what little coin and wares that they are able to part with, a strange gleam in his eyes and a sincere smile on his face.

Without fail, the strangers comply. They always do.

And in the morning, if they’re a little more woozy than when they laid down to sleep, Silver reassures them that the small satchel of strong-smelling herbs and wrapped provisions for the road will do them a world of good. Together, father and son stand in the doorway of their humble home, hands raised in gestures of well wishes and farewell, as good hosts ought to do. Their visitors stumble down the chrysanthemum and lycoris-lined pathway back to the welcoming arms of the forest, and Silver flexes his toes in his new shoes while his father indulgently twirls his latest trinket around his fingertips, admiring the glint of it in the pale sunlight. 

(“Not all vampires are as kind as I am, child,” his father explains to him as he tucks a sheathed blade into the drawer of their nightstand, under the pressed and faded flowers that Silver had brought for him over time. “There are those who would see longevity as the means to power instead of the humbling blessing that it truly is. There are those who have let their years sour their minds like fermented wine, who have only steeped in cruelty instead of basking in the innocence that still exists in this world. And I would not have you defenseless inside our own home.”

Silver looks at the dull sheen of the knife and thinks back to the cold sting of one flayed against his cheek, and he wonders if those who lurk in the shadows of the night are truly the ones he ought to fear.)  

The years pass in this necessary fashion, seasons tumbling and turning over themselves with a prevailing peace that Silver had once believed could only exist in storybooks. He outgrows his sleeves faster than travelers pass by, and it isn’t long before he finds himself a whole head and a half taller than the vampire. His father laughs at his shaggy bangs, proclaiming Silver to be more sheep than boy, and attacks his hair with all the ferocity of a mad barber. The lasting effect leaves something to be desired and Silver could swear that the bluebirds by their window are chortling to themselves instead of singing. 

His father ruffles his sharp nails through the butchered mess of Silver’s hair and laughs again, proclaiming them to be matching lopsided twins, and Silver is unable to imagine a moment that he’s ever been happier. 

What a shame it is then, that all good things cannot last. 

The summer of Silver’s sixteenth year is a cruel, unforgiving one. 

The August sun swelters the earth with a breathless heat, insidious like none before. It is relentless in its seething anger to drive the woodland creatures to the deepest burrows in search of shade, the birds to practically droop like molten taffy in their water bowls, and his father to haunt the shadows of their home, face flushed and eyes feverish in a way that no cool rag could soothe. 

There could be no greater pain in Silver’s heart than this: the wilt in his father’s proud spine, the light tremors that seize his clever fingertips. He hovers over the vampire like a fretting maid, hands wringing uselessly as nothing short of the obvious will soothe his father’s condition, and travelers have been few and far between. Lilia conjures up smiles for him and swears that he’ll be alright, it’s simply a harsher season than before, and Silver cannot help but get the distinct feeling that he’s being placated. Even worse, it mostly works, the lonely and frightened child from the woods who sleeps deep in his soul comforted by that unsinkable paternal reassurance. 

Still, Silver is unable to completely shake the feeling that something is amiss. 

Lately, his rest at night has been disturbed. He wakes to the faint sounds of ruptured inhales so very close to his ear, of something in the clear throes of distress, with choked noises of desperately sought after air as if the deprived creature was suffocating. The noises are so frightening, so animalistic in nature that Silver can only think to associate them with his beloved woodland creatures, and yet when he hurries to his bedroom window and peers outside with his heart in his throat to find the poor animal that had been mauled by a predator— there is nothing but the silent gleam of moonlight, shining down upon his deflated flower beds. 

His father merely purses his lips in worry when Silver brings these odd instances to him, and wonders aloud if these are queasy dreams brought on by the heat; with little else to explain, Silver’s inclined to believe him. 

But these events are pushed out of his mind when salvation finally approaches one late afternoon in the weary figure of a man, clinging to the reins of a stumbling horse, at the end of their pathway. 

His father must have sensed the newcomer’s presence too, for Lilia is at the door before Silver can even call for him, ever the gracious host and smiling beatifically at their wayward traveler as if Silver hadn’t needed to shake his shoulders thrice in mounting worry to wake him that very morning. The man eagerly accepts the offer of nightly shelter, passing the reins of his horse to Silver to tie to a post in the welcome shade of a nearby tree, and Silver watches over its broad shoulder as he gently rubs the creature down. His father, ever the effortless conversationalist even at the height of his malady, needs no reins with which to lead the man into the cool, womb-like darkness of their home, and Silver feels a rush of palpable relief at the familiarity of the old song and dance— perhaps at last, his father might finally take a turn for the better.  

The next morning, Silver checks on his father first and smiles to see the vampire snoring away in what must have been his first blissful sleep in weeks, bedsheets haphazardly tangled about him in an ocean of white. With practiced motions, he leans down to straighten the blankets fondly around the slumbering figure, only to wrinkle his nose at the sharp scent of iron heavy on his father’s breath. After such a dry spell, the bitter tang scratches at his senses, and he can’t help but take a glance into their tiny living room where their guest yawns and shuffles in his borrowed blankets. 

Perhaps a breakfast with a healthy side of dark, leafy greens was in order. 

Morning is a quiet and simple affair— his father is sleeping in for once it seems, and Silver makes efficient work out of the early meal for their guest who must have had a rough night of tossing and turning judging by his wrinkled clothes and constant, belly-deep yawns. Silver even offers for the man to stay a while longer if he isn’t fit yet for travel, but their guest insists (rather strongly for his exhausted nature) that he could not impose on their goodwill much longer. With a mental shrug, Silver bows his head and allows the man privacy to retrieve his things, heading outside with the intent to bring the waiting horse to its owner. 

Only, the horse is nowhere to be seen. 

Silver’s heart falters in his chest, and he turns to their departing guest with a litany of apologies on his lips, for he had been so sure of tying the creature up safely for the night, but the man waves him off with an unsteady hand and a smile that keeps attempting to slip from his face as if greased, proclaiming that he had no need for what had been such an aging beast. He could continue his travels alone, and Silver can only watch and uneasily curl his fingers into his palms as the man cuts a wavering figure back down their pathway despite his bewildered protests. 

(“We ought to warn those who stop by that there may be a bear in the woods,” he tells his father later, the vampire having woken long past their traveler’s departure. “The noises I’ve been hearing and now the horse’s disappearance. . . someone could get hurt.” 

His father doesn’t seem too concerned with Silver’s hypothesis, and he supposes that’s simply how one behaves after centuries of besting mortality. Still, he resolves to be more cautious in his time spent outdoors.) 

The man’s arrival marks a turning point in the summer, the blistering dog days giving way to the cooler promise of autumn. It also marks a turning point in his father’s health, one that Silver is initially so incredibly grateful for as the vampire seems to perk up and become the very picture of rosy, energetic grace. The weakened figure of mere weeks prior haunts the corridors of his mind, and Silver finds himself making excuses as his father welcomes the oddly increasing number of strangers who have found themselves down their homely path with open arms and glittering eyes above a wide, gleaming smile. It had simply been a veritable drought of company, and his father, gregarious as he was, was in his element now, thriving off the attention almost as much as the blood that came with it.

And perhaps that is what itched at his nerves most of all. It was one thing to suddenly play house with the travelers that seemed to constantly appear on their doorstep—

(Silver had questioned them, a discomforting notion to learn that not only had they been told of the cottage’s existence by those who staggered off in the mornings, but almost fervently urged to visit.)

—but never before had he witnessed his father drink in such abandon. With such a slow, but steady, trickle of visitors, his father may have sampled another’s blood once or twice a month at most, always cautious enough to not take too much. His father is not a monster, and his kindness exceeds that of all the humanity that Silver had known in his short life— this he tells himself as he averts his gaze from the still-clotting punctures, glistening and accusatory over rumpled shirts. 

His father is not a monster, and he still tells himself this as he stumbles out of his bedroom one cold winter’s night, awoken once more to that strange, garbled collection of sound. His father is not a monster, because it simply could not be his father crouched before him on the floor of their living room, an all too still and silent figure splayed out beneath him like a rag doll. He surely must be dreaming, as those muffled, wet noises pause in their desperate slurping and enlarged fangs draw up and away from a ruined shoulder, dripping in a dark, glutinous substance. His father is not a monster, because the creature hunched in the shadows of a dying fire looks nothing like the angel who had rescued him in the forest all those years ago— whatever this, this thing is, slavering wildly over a face locked in a euphoric death mask, it is not his dearest father.

They behold each other in the scant space of a fragile moment, a bewildered gaze still frozen before the onslaught of horror could possibly sink in opposite that of unmoored feral hunger. Silver thinks back to the knife hidden beneath the drawer of his nightstand, cloaked in dust and dried flowers and the somber protection of a father’s love. He thinks back to the incredible speed that had disposed of the men who had intended to kill him on such a similar frigid night, a speed unmatched to the naked eye. 

The vampire utters his name like a prayer, smeared tenderly in lamb’s blood.

His father is not a monster.

Silver opens his arms, and waits for his angel to carry him home. 

In response to the delicate graze of his father’s gore-drenched claws against his youthful face, the boy’s eyes flutter open at last. Lilia does not seem to notice the vibrancy that has vanished from them, leaving behind the dull haze of a mist-choked morn where once the dawn light soared; perhaps he simply does not care. “Oh, Silver,” he breathes in reverence, the miraculous wonder of a father witnessing his child’s (re)birth for the first time, and he throws his arms around the boy’s stiff shoulders. There is no response, but that is to be expected when one is missing a greater third of their tattered and torn esophagus, the mutilated remains of which are strewn across the floor or smeared over Lilia’s mouth.  “My darling boy, my precious son, how perfect you are at last.”

Silver trembles in his arms like a newborn fawn, and Lilia coos reassurances to him, helps his boy to his feet and steadies his legs as he leads him over to where their meal now lay in a crumpled and tangled heap. It is always cumbersome, the first feeding, and Lilia had no one to guide him through the carnal, mindless greed of his own— no such fate shall befall his son. He will share with him the abundance of milk and honey, lift it to his frozen lips where those new, budding fangs peek innocently above, and watch with boundless pride as new life, a near eternal life, is bestowed upon the one timeless treasure he has coveted in over six hundred stolen centuries. 

Later, they will bury the body together, sink the flesh deep within the garden where the others take their rest, a cluster of pearly white bones only disturbed by an odd set of larger, equine-shaped ones. Later still, when a young man approaches their home in the evening gloom to seek shelter on the long, arduous journey to his grandfather, Silver will greet him. He will smile enchantingly over his new high-necked shirt and take his hand, drawing him deep into the clutches of their wonderful little home, deep into the blessed darkness where his father waits. The table will stay barren, the bed unmade— there is no more need for pretense between the two of them. Not now, and not ever. 

Lilia can see it all. And with pleasure, he smiles. 

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst fic #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #diasomnia #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #happy belated halloween :) #everyone say thank you catriona for bringing my wild visions to life beyond anything i could possibly imagine <3 #lettie writes #art for lettie

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND FOUR - THREE OF A KIND

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, the debutantes are met and a dance is done.

wc: 2.4k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, banter driven (what else is new), pining and tension and tension and pining, jealous!touya hehe, prince keigo and lady kaina cameos :)

note: every time i write another part of this series, i think i cannot create any more tension and then shit like this gets created. every thing i do i'm like that one meme with the butterfly like "is this slow burn?" anyways hope you enjoy, thank you SO MUCH for all the love you've given this series!!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

“I can’t fathom being in his presence for more than a few minutes. I don’t know how you do it,” remarks Lady Kaina Tsutsumi, your new-found ally in the palace hall of debutantes and suitors. You were initially drawn to her because of the striking dark purple of her dress and were delighted to find that she shared similar opinions on presentation season. With the prince preoccupied with making painfully awkward small talk with guests, it was up to you to entertain yourself until he returned to your side. 

“It’s been a learning curve, to say the least,” you reply politely, taking another sip from your glass of lemonade. You think you catch a glimpse of the prince’s bright white hair in the crowd, but find yourself unexpectedly disappointed when the rest of him doesn’t follow. 

“Is there a reason for his…intensity all the time?” 

“I’ve found that it is, unfortunately, his resting demeanor,” you inform Lady Kaina and she chuckles. “Surprisingly, I’ve started paying closer attention to the relationships within the ton, no thanks to him.” Your friend hums in amused assent. 

“Shall I share my roster of eligible ladies and their prospects with you, then?”

“If you would, please,” you say gratefully and she nods in understanding. 

“Well, of course, we have your man,” she teases, gesturing a magenta-gloved hand in the general direction of your only suitor. He was currently intimidating some poor souls from the district of Lord Tsunagu Hakamada, the most successful textile entrepreneur in the kingdom. When the prince told you that he was to visit with other high-ranking members of the ton, you had a vague idea of what their interactions would entail. Now, as you witness it first-hand, the victims shrink away from his conniving smile and you roll your eyes, allowing yourself a smile before Lady Kaina clears her throat from beside you. 

“I would not call him my man,” you correct light-heartedly after you remember your manners, but she waves you off with a knowing look. “I’m serious!”

“Yes, and the sky is green,” she counters. “Moving on, we have Lady Rumi Usagiyama.” The woman in question was not difficult to spot among the droves of guests, as her aura alone seemed to be taking up most of the space. In a generously cut off-white dress, she radiated confidence and pride like you’ve never seen before. “Notoriously hard to court in the Takami Kingdom, and rumored to have the strength to chuck any man out of her foyer window.” 

“She is the object of my envy,” you deadpan, glancing back in the direction of the prince. “I only wish I dared to do such a thing to His Highness.”

“Your gaze tells a different tale, my friend,” Lady Kaina murmurs and you shoot her a look of warning. She shrugs indifferently, pointing out two other vaguely familiar faces in the hall, a bubbly, tall debutante and a scary-eyed woman beside her. “Lady Yu Takeyama and Duchess Ryuko Tatsuma. Rumors say that the Duchess ate her husband.” You snort so unexpectedly that your lemonade travels into your nose and you cough, fanning yourself with your hand to cool your warm face. “Anyone else you would like to learn about?”

“Do you know of anyone that the prince surrounds himself with?” You ask once you’ve regained your composure. Lady Kaina shakes her head, the corner of her mouth tugging down into a frown. 

“I’ve heard of three, but I’m not sure it’s my place to reveal their identities.”

“I have no one else to spread this information to,” you remind her. 

“True,” she agrees, dropping her voice to a barely perceptible level. “Whispers say he is acquainted with the bastard of King Shigaraki, the missing daughter of the Toga dynasty, and a traveling circus magician.”

“Your whispers spin a vibrant tale.” You listen to her continue to relay what she’s heard about the prince’s friends, but you try not to let yourself immediately be convinced by them. From the month that you’d reluctantly spent with the prince, you were increasingly perplexed by the cocky-smiled enigma that was your future (fake) intended. 

There were the little things, observed from a surface level: how he holds a sword with his left hand but is right-handed in all other situations, how he’d rather jump off a cliff into sharp rocks than eat a spoonful of fish, how he closes his eyes during carriage rides to avoid getting nauseous. 

But recently, you also started noticing deeper things about the prince that you didn’t know how to manage. He hated his father. He hated the ton. He hated the presentation season. And yet, despite everything that he had no problem expressing his distaste for, he called on you half an hour before your agreed-upon time. He waited in the garden instead of the sitting room because he knew you’d rather see your beloved flowers before you left. He became bored easily, but listened to you go on about traveling the world during visits to the modiste, another place he insisted on accompanying you “for coordinated aesthetic purposes.” He loved to mutter brutal comments about a person’s looks when you passed them on the sidewalk, but he never dared to say anything negative about your appearance. When he was with you, anything negative registering in his mind seemed to disappear before his mouth could articulate it. 

The things you witnessed had unwanted sensations traveling through your heart and fluttering in your stomach, which made it endlessly difficult to remind yourself that he was simply a business partner and, more importantly, likely an enemy of the kingdom that hasn’t been caught yet. But what were you supposed to do when he caught your eye across the room and smirked like you shared a secret? 

“Mmm,” Lady Kaina hums from next to you, pulling you back to the ground after your head starts to float off with the string quartet. “Yeah, you’re gone.”

“I’m standing right here.”

“But your attention is elsewhere, friend,” she concludes, dipping into a curtsy and sending you a wink before disappearing into the milling crowd. “You might want to open your fan. Your eyes are giving you away and he’s coming this way.” As if on cue, the low voice that no longer sent chills up your spine appeared over your shoulder. 

“You’re not causing trouble, are you?”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff, meeting his eyes with a considerably less amount of fear than weeks prior. The wool of his coat tonight was copper-colored, making the blue of his eyes glow even brighter. They always seemed to shine more when you were looking into them. “You socialize with the same grace as a wolf in a chicken coop.”

“I’m doing a great job, then,” he drawls, positioning himself next to you in a way that, if people were walking by, they would run into his shoulder rather than yours. Another perplexingly thoughtful action that you couldn’t figure out a motive for. “You were speaking with Lady Kaina?”

“I was. She’s a very informed individual.”

“Any information about me?”

“Only the well-known,” you state cryptically. He glances at you with a curiously amused look. 

“Such as?” 

“How you prefer orange zest in your bubble baths and were shorter than a doorknob until you were seven years old,” you jest and the corner of his mouth tugs upward, following your lead as easily as breathing. 

“It’s lemon zest, not orange,” he murmurs and you stifle a laugh into your glove, nodding curtly at passing ladies. “Will you still be accompanying me while I babysit Prince Keigo next week?”

“I’m not sure I have a choice,” you admit, spotting the scarlet-feathered coat of the royal in question. In a way, both princes seemed to be matching each other in color schemes. Telling the prince beside you would most certainly end in a barrage of complaints about his royal duties, so you keep that part to yourself.

“Of course, you have a choice, though I will say it will only wound my pride further.” 

“Then for the sake of my sanity and your pride, consider my attendance guaranteed.” He nods in satisfaction, following your eye line to His Highness Prince Keigo. 

“I’m not going to duel another man, am I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You having eyes for Prince Keigo was not something I anticipated,” he muses and your face heats as you finally take Kaina’s advice, snapping your fan open instead of answering. 

“I don’t have eyes for anyone here, Your Highness,” you scoff, waving the fan back and forth in front of your burning cheeks. “If I were to muster up attraction to any royal, it would be Princess Fuyumi.” 

“You have a taste for the Todoroki family then? I always knew you couldn’t resist me,” he says, leaning close enough so that you can feel his breath on your ear. You freeze momentarily, pulse racing in your ears, but are just as quick to push him away. 

“I made it clear from the start of our arrangement that feelings were not to be factored into this relationship,” you state bluntly and he steps backward; you catch him blink a few times in a way that you’d learned was his way of hiding disappointment. Disappointment with what, you couldn’t understand, and you decide not to think about it further. The prince, however, isn’t satisfied. A satin-gloved hand extends to you and you stare at it with all the caution of taming an agitated cobra.  “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Dance with me,” he commands and you peer at him expectantly. His eyes roll to the side when he understands what you want, but he gives it to you nonetheless. “Please.”

“Do you have a certain connection with this song?” You ask in an attempt to cover up your sweating palms and heated face as he leads you to the middle of the floor. It was the first time he’d proactively asked you to dance, outside of the agreed-upon quota required to keep your ruse believable. “I can’t fathom any other reason to be dancing with you otherwise.” He’s still quiet, but his hands seem to be acting on their own tonight. One slides assuredly around your waist while the other interlocks its fingers in yours, ushering you closer than you’d ever danced with him before. “Are you about to end this whole arrangement? I’d prefer to know in advance if I am to be broken up with at the end of this evening–”

“With all due respect, dear,” he murmurs right next to your ear, “Please stop talking.” As the sound of strings dances around you, your body moves in time with his and you’re forced to look to the side, sensing his stupid mouth brush your forehead. “Loosen up a bit. You’re stiffer than a board.” 

“Forgive me,” you whisper back, barely able to keep your voice steady. “I–I’m–My mind is not currently present,” you swallow nervously and are relieved when he chuckles too, his chest humming against yours. You risk meeting his eyes only to find his gaze elsewhere, and you trace it to the scarlet-coated Prince Keigo charming debutantes across the room. His eyes are dark and threatening, an expression you only witness when he’s trying to guard a good hand of cards. The pieces click together in your mind one by one and you can’t help laughing when you realize what he’s doing. “I must say, jealousy is not a good look on you.” 

“I’m not jealous,” he mumbles like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, still avoiding your eyes. “You’re seeing things.”

“Is envy a better word, then? Resentment? Covetousness?” That catches his attention and you’re surprisingly unafraid of being the sole recipient of his intensity. 

“Call it being…defensive,” he manages after considerable amounts of thought, but you swear you catch the tips of his ears turning slightly pinker. “I’m merely establishing that I am your only suitor, even with a shiny new thing visiting.” Like a game, you press on, determined to see how far you can get before his bluff breaks. 

“Is that really for you to decide, though?” He tenses and you do not doubt that your eyes are shining in challenge. “What would happen if, for instance, I wanted to consider my prospects with His Highness Prince Keigo? Should he be interested, of course.” The muscle in the prince’s jaw clenches and his hand around your waist tugs you impossibly closer until you’re inches from his face. 

“He’d be either blind or foolish to not be interested,” he assures you and you’re back in another stare-off, feet moving unconsciously to the rhythm of the music while each of you waits for the other to back down. “Which is exactly why I’m making sure he sees you dance with me before anyone else.” You end up being the first to break, tearing your eyes away just in time to see Prince Keigo considering you and His Highness from across the ballroom. Your partner’s plan, it seems, has worked. As the song ends, he guides you off the floor with a strong arm under your fingers; you try not to think about the lean muscle flexed under your touch. 

“This ruse became more political than I anticipated,” you manage to force out after the adrenaline of your dance begins to subside. “I didn’t know I’d be defended like some damsel princess.”

“I consider it more flaunting than defending,” he corrects. “I do, after all, have the diamond of this season, though that may be influenced by bias.”

“All these sweet words for what end goal, my prince?” He swallows thickly, the only indication that your new nickname for him is heard. “For you to leave me at the altar with a sum of money and a broken heart?”

“It was what we agreed upon, was it not?” His burning eyes were sending you a completely different message but you can’t find the courage to acknowledge it. You felt like you’d just seen the river and were pushing all the stacks you had into the pot, only for him to raise again and again. Again and again and again, you didn’t know how much more you could risk. 

You fold. 

“Of course. An arrangement is an arrangement, after all.” You curtsy and turn away on shaky legs before you can see his reaction. “Goodnight… Touya.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

[jun2u]

                 𝟕 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧.

pairing:  nonidol! choi yeonjun x f. reader.

genre: smut

summary: a party game quickly heats up when sworn frenemy choi yeonjun comes over to join in on the fun and spice things up.

wc: 2,612

warning: frenemies, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, making out, oral (f. receiving), profanity, use of “princess”, a bit of a begging kink somewhat in there ?? MINORS DNI !!

authors note: my first fic on here eeek i’m nervous !! pls enjoy but this is a trial run , pls don’t take it too seriously ... but definitely give a like / reblog if u enjoy !! i’ll be posting more so don’t be shy to follow / send requests !!

“are you guys all ready for seven minutes in heaven ? everyone , find a spot on the floor and get in a circle ! it’s gonna be so fun ! ”

you grin at your best friend’s words , though you feel a tingling rush of nervousness fill your stomach with butterflies. it’s your 21st birthday , and although you’ve always been one to prefer simple , small get togethers , your best friend has different plans. you need to let loose for once , she’d told you weeks prior , when the idea was first proposed. just say yes and i’ll handle the rest. i’ll plan a party you’ll never forget.

just as you’re about to start , the sound of the doorbell has everyone’s head turn curiously towards the door. subconsciously , you do a quick head count - everyone who was invited was here …. right ?

“ mm , i’ll get it. it might be a neighbor complaining about the noise , so i should probably be the one to answer. ” hesitantly dragging yourself to the entrance , you open the door already preparing to apologize. the last thing you expected was to open the door to a familiar face adorning a smug grin.

choi yeonjun. definitely not a friend , and definitely not invited.  you’d known him since middle school , a cocky jock who’s flirtatious nature and relentless teasing hadn’t stopped after graduation. unfortunately for you , mutual friends between the two of you had kept you both in each other’s lives , constantly butting heads. while you spent all your nights in studying for exams , you heard the infamous tales of the male , throwing wild parties and allowing yet another naive girl to fall for his tricks.

“ happy birthday , beautiful. ” he winks at you , and his words break you from your thoughts. subconsciously , your eyes rake down his body , scanning his outfit. wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and jeans , his athletic prowess evident in his figure alone. and of course , that same , stupid grin he always had painted on his face. you’re not proud to admit how long it takes to pull your eyes from him , clearing your throat as you begrudgingly allow space for him to slip through the door.

“ who invited you , anyways ? you weren’t on my invite list , and i think i’d know since it’s my party. ”

“ in case you forgot , we’ve got mutual friends , so i heard from them. but let’s not pretend you’re complaining. you look more than happy to see me , y / n. ” as he slides past you to get in , his chest slides just ever so slightly over yours , and you swear you catch him tug his bottom lip with his teeth. but before you can say much more , the inevitable chaos that comes anytime yeonjun is around begins.

“ yeonjun ! so glad you’re here ! okay quick everyone , sit , sit ! ” while everything in you wants to complain , you decide not to , not wanting to let one man ruin your entire party. so you comply , sitting on the ground with the group. as you do you smell cologne waft down right next to you , and when you look up you see the dreaded male smirking back at you , deciding to take a seat noticeably close to you. his hands , seemingly innocently rested at his side , brush the sides of your thighs , bare right under the place your dress cuts off. goosebumps instantly make their way to your skin , causing you to mentally roll your eyes at yourself.

hell no. the last person that should make you feel any type of way is yeonjun.

“ all right , everyone ready ? who wants to spin fir- ”

“ i’ll do it. ” before there’s time to protest , yeonjun grabs the bottle of soju from across the circle. “ whoever the bottle lands on , is the second person , right ? ” though the question sounds innocent , you spot a devilish light in his eyes , his fingers absentmindedly stroking the top of the bottle. across from you , other girls look with anticipation , no doubt hoping the bottle will land on them. it’s no secret yeonjun had the eyes of numerous girls - hell , he’d been the crush of almost all your friends at one point or another. and yet , you can’t help but hope that it lands anywhere but on -

“ y / n , oooh ! ” commotion is heard around the room as the bottle spins to a stop , the tip pointing so obviously to you it’s nearly comedic. so caught up in your thoughts , you hadn’t even realized you’d be chosen. when you look up , yeonjun teasingly blows you a kiss , though the darker desire in his eyes reveals deeper intentions than he reveals. everything in you tells you to make up an excuse, some reason you have to go or can’t go with him. and yet … looking across at him , stretching as he rises to his feet , shirt slightly rising to give a peek to his toned body … you find your body making it’s way to the vacant guest room before you can think to do otherwise.

when the door closes , however , you try to put up a front , crossing your arms and attempting to look as stern as possible. “ look , don’t think that -  “

“ oh please , can we just cut the bullshit for once , y / n ? ” you’re so used to him talking in riddles that the abrupt bluntness of him catches you off guard , visibly showing shock at his words.

“ i - i don’t think i understand. ”

“ i think you understand perfectly. you think i didn’t have anything to do with that bottle landing on you ? that i wouldn’t do anything in my power to get just a second with you alone , all to myself ? ” as he talks , he steps forward , causing you to step back as well. but before you realize , you trip over the edge of the bed , causing you to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. as you do , his figure comes even closer , looming over you as you take in the sight of his entire body.

you must be mistaken. as annoying as he could be , there was no denying how attractive yeonjun was , and it didn’t make sense for him to be taking an interest in you all of a sudden. after all , you didn’t do much to make yourself very known , whereas it seemed he did just about anything for attention. so … why now ?

“ and don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about. your hair … that smile … that dress. ” it looks like he has to physically restrain himself from going further , his eyes taking their time down your body. he crouches down to your level , taking your chin gently in his , though his fidgeting hand seems to be wanting to do much more.

“ yeonjun - i , ” you’re not used to being this flustered , but with him so close , the intoxicating scent of his cologne , his eyes drilled into yours , you find it hard to speak. “ it just - doesn’t make sense. why now ? why , when we can barely stand being in the same room as each other ? ”

“ the only reason i can’t be in a room with you is because i know what i’ll want to do to you if i stay in it. ” and god , when he says that , it’s like you’re actually drawn closer to him by some invisible force. “ i know you feel it too , y/n. you drive me crazy and i fucking love it. i just haven’t gotten you alone to show you just how crazy i can make you. ”

your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in , but before he can get ahead of himself , he stops. “ i know what i want , but i won’t do a thing until you tell me how you feel. we’ve got six minutes , ” he explains , eyes quickly flickering to the clock before returning to your lips. “ and it’s up to you how we’ll spend that time. ”

your brain is racing with thoughts , many of them being images of what could happen should you let lust get in the way of your decision making. you probably shouldn’t though … right ? if the others heard , or worse , having to face the consequences of your actions tomorrow … it all could go so bad.

and yet , all the bad can’t amount to how good you want to feel.

without thinking , your fingernails reach out to grab his neck , pulling him into a kiss filled with passion and anticipation. you hear him hum against your lips , evidently pleased with the choice you’ve decided to make. as if you had been made to go together , your bodies intertwine , years of repressed emotions being released through your bodies. a gentle push from yeonjun sends your back crashing down on the mattress, as the male takes the chance to trap you under his biceps, hooded eyes staring back at you with desire.

“ fuck , y/n. you don’t understand how much i’ve been wanting this. ” even amidst your lust-filled daze, the words fill you with a wave of happiness , not being able to fight back a small smile at the words. “ i just - didn’t know if you did too, but … ”

yeonjun raises himself off of you , causing a groan of frustration to leave you. but he soon returns , sending kisses all the way down you , starting from your lips , to your collarbone , all the way down to the silhouette of your dress.

“ but when i opened the door and saw you - looking like this tonight ? ” on cue, his cool fingertips trace over your inner thigh , causing you to lean into his touch. his stare is so intense you swear his eyes are burning straight through your clothes.  “ well , i knew there was no holding myself back. ”

urgently , his fingers move lower to your inner thigh , their sensiitivity causing a gasp of pleasure to escape you without much restraint. your vocal pleasure clearly satisfies him , as he lets out a low chuckle , but silences you with a quick peck on the lips. “ hey - you don’t want them to hear you , do you ? i need you to keep quiet , princess. ”

princess. you’d never been one for pet names but ironically , coming from his lips , you don’t seem to mind. in fact , you obey him diligently , biting back the feeling of his name threatening to spill out from your lips. as much as he annoyed you , as much as you tried to deny it …. everytime you saw him , warmth spread throughout your entire body. his stupid grin he always had made you think dangerous thoughts you’d never dare admit. and yet , the more he touches you , the more those thoughts threaten to spill out.

“ can i go further ? we don’t have much time , so i need you to let me know. ” you don’t think it’s possible to speak without coming out in a messy collection of rambles , so you merely nod with urgency as you let your fingers trail into his hair. however , you’re sadly mistaken when he stops touching you completely , staring back at you with serious eyes.

“ oh y / n , that wasn’t a request. that was a demand. you need to let me know what you want. ”

“ i - want you to go further ? ” you reply hesitantly , slightly confused by the question. it makes your cheeks warm to admit it so candidly , but right now , your body’s desires were far outweighing the rational side of yourself. but clearly , your answer isn’t enough for him , as he shakes his head with dissatisfaction.

“ no , no , that’s not good enough. princess , i need to know you mean it. i need you to beg for me. ”

you could nearly choke right then and there , as his statement causes your entire body to freeze up. beg ? you can tell he’s already getting off on the idea , his smug grin returning as he cocks an eyebrow , clearly waiting for a response. well … fuck. no matter how embarrasing this might be later , you still let the words flow out , coming out a little more freely than you would have liked.

“ please. i need you to make me feel good , yeonjun , i - i need you so bad. ”

and then , the melodic sound of a low moan comes out his lips , licking his lips as the pleading from you seems to do far more than mere physical touch ever could. but , being a man of his word , he doesn’t hesitate to lean into you , crawling lower and lower until his hooded eyes peer back at you from between your thighs.

“ such a good girl. and only because you asked nicely , i think these have to go. ” with impressive dexterity , his slender fingertips slide over the band of your underwear , impatiently sliding them under your thighs. you’re quick to assist , legs raising , but not before his stronger hand presses both legs firmly to the mattress.

“ i don’t want you to move an inch - i’ve got you right where i want you. ” and before you can protest , the foreign sensation of plump lips connect to your center, tongue trailing down to taste you in your entirety.  he takes you in so expertly it’s like he’s done it countless times before , from below , the wet , filthy sounds of yeonjun consuming you fill your ears , complimented by his groans of satisfaction from under you.

“ you taste so good , y / n. i could do this forever. ” and with the way time slows down , it feels like he is , your mind focused on nothing but the sensation of yeonjun , and yeonjun alone. his tongue , weaving it’s way in and out of you , messily tasting you in your entirety.  just as you get used to the sensation of his tongue , two fingers sliding into your damp entrance with ease make you gasp with unexpected pleasure.

“ you make it so easy for me , ” he growls , increasing speed as he sucks hungrily on your folds. all you can do is whimper in response , leaning deeper , more submissive to his touch than you could have ever imagined. in this moment , he’s in control of all of you , all your sensations in the palm of his hand. watching him , eyes glazed over with the same need as you , you feel energy building up in your core.

“ i - ah ! yeonjun , i think i’m going to - ”

“ do it for me , princess. show me how much you love it. ” he isn’t caught off guard in the slightest - in fact , his pace remains as steady as ever as he talks , looking back up at you between desperate licks to gauge your reaction. he seems to love to be the one in control , doing anything he can to trigger a dramatic reaction from you , to get you to plead for more of him.

his words send you over the edge , and as you let go of any restraint , your body releases with ease , your fingertips gripping the sheets below you. as you ride out your high , he bites his lip , slowly rising until he’s looking down at you , obviously proud of the reaction he’s managed to get out of you. looking into his eyes , all you can do is fall deeper and deeper , helpless within his touch , as you whimper the one word you can muster -

“ yeonjun ! ’

as if to praise you for a job well done , he replies with a heated kiss on the lips , tongue sliding into yours ever so gently. as his body presses against yours , you can feel his desire , hardened against you as his body begs for even more. but just as you open your mouth to beg for him , all of him - you see him lift his phone , just as an alarm goes off , soft words sliding out his mouth like silk.

“ times up , princess. ”

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun smut #txt smut #txt fanfic #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeon au #txt au #txt imagines #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun choi #choi yeonjun #txt yeonjun #krafted by kiara. <3 #plsss show up in tags!

[spooky-bunnys]

Hiii can you make an Undertaker one? It’s okay if you don’t :D

It's the Undertaker! I had to do something for him! Hope you Enjoy!

When Ciel arrived at the Undetaker's funeral palor for information regarding to his current case, he wasn't expecting company. Well...live company that is. When he entered the palor he wasn't expecting to see Undertaker interacting with someone that was actually living and breathing.

When the bell rang over the entry door. The conversing duo stopped and looked at the door. Noticing the Young Earl and his faithful butler. "Oh! Sorry. I didn't know you'd be expecting guests". A male with (hair color) hair spoke standing. His eyes were a dark purple. Which immediately Sebastian noticed.

He gave a small smirk. "Hello (Name)." The male now introduced as (Name). Looked confused. Ciel was equally confused on how his butler knew the male and not him. Unless...."He isn't human?" (Name) looked surprised. "How...." (Name) took a good look at the butler and noticed Sebastian's eyes and nodded. "Demons."

Ciel looked between the two extremely confused. "How the bloody hell?" (Name) gave the Young Earl a smile and bowed. "You must be Earl Phantomhive. I've heard so much about you!" Ciel looked at the Undertaker Furious. "Why the bloody hell would you tell other supernatural creatures about me!" The Undertaker laughed loudly. That's when Sebastian cut in. "He didn't Young Master. (Name) is a Fairy. He lives in the forest surrounding the Manor."

Ciel stared at the young male. "A Fairy? Like in the fairy tales?" (Name) gave a small huff. "I hate those fucking stories." The Undertaker laughed harder hanging on the young male. "Interestly Fairys are almost completely different from those children stories. So my little (Name) here is nothing like the stories you were told." The Undertaker hugged the male close to him.

"Your little (Name)?" The sliver haired male nodded excitedly. "After so many centuries he's finally accepted my marriage proposal!" Ciel looked flabbergasted at the "Young" male. "Centuries?! Just how blood old are you?!" (Name) laughed at his reaction. "I'm only 1,900 years old. I'm actually still quiet young." ONLY 1,900!? Sebastian looked surprised."Why you are still quite young then aren't you."

Ciel turned to Sebastian Furious. "You knew about them?!" "Well of course Young Master. How do you think I was able to rebuild the Manor so many times. (Name)'s tribe is quite helpful when it comes to issues like that." Ciel whipped to the other male. "Wait! You were the one to build my Manor?" (Name) nodded with a smile. Undertaker smiled brightly. "My little Fairy is quite the worker isn't he?"

The fairy blushed and pushed the Undertaker off him and brushed the "dirt" from his clothes. "Well since you're here that must mean you need help with a case. I shall see you later Taker." (Name) gave the male a short but passionate kiss. He turned and looked at Sebastian with a raised brow. "My elders are wondering when you'll come again. Apparently you missed the last meeting."

Sebastian gave a small bow smirking as he did. "Yes, unfortunately we were caught up in a case. I shall visit as soon as my master excuses me later." (Name) nodded and gave a deep bow to the Earl. "It was nice to finally meet you Young Master. I'll see you again soon." Then (Name) was surrounded by a pale green light and disappeared. Leaving a small (Flower) in his place.

#male reader #x male reader #black butler x male reader #black butler #undertaker #blac butler undertaker x male reader #undertaker x male reader

[mysafehaneul]

VII. AQUAMARINE (M)

CHAPTER 7: DIFFERENT PATHS SAME DESTINATION

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 11k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

ANGST, SMUT, FLUFF.

Most of our lives are spent in the search of a meaning, a purpose and often we end up looking for it in the wrong places and forget the fact that it was not about the destination, rather the journey and the people we meet along the way. Because we don’t have small lives, we just start living it a bit late. 

The corridor on the mansion's second floor was a gallery of ornate antique decorations and vases, each with its own story to tell. As Y/N walked through this elegant hallway, Noel was out fishing with the Jeon men and Joon-hee's daughter, enjoying a day of outdoor activities.

The corridor featured high pane windows framed by heavy curtains, ornate walls, and a large portrait of the Jeon family. The portrait depicted Wonwoo's grandparents sitting on a comfortable couch, with their children standing proudly behind them. It was a beautiful representation of a bygone era, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the timeless family bond it portrayed. Wonwoo's father stood behind his father, and his aunt stood in the middle, with one hand on her father's shoulder and the other on her mother's. On the other side, Wonwoo's uncle was grinning, with his eyes meeting his father's. The family resemblance was striking, particularly in the similarities between Jungkook and his father.

Y/N's gaze settled on the hands of Wonwoo's grandmother, and she noticed that the elderly lady wore the same ring that now adorned her own finger. It was a connection between generations.

"That's my mother-in-law" Y/N heard a voice behind her making her jump slightly, she turned around to see her mother-in-law standing just a few steps away, her gaze focused on the family portrait.

Sunmi continued with a smile, "Out of her collection, she cherished that ring the most." Her eyes shifted to Y/N's hands, which held the same ring.

Y/N commented, "I see, it is a pretty ring."

Sunmi looked back at the portrait and reflected, "I think more than the beauty, it's the history of the ring that held more significance."

With a turn to face Y/N, she added, "When Wonwoo's grandfather was just 11, his father sent him to her house." Sunmi nodded toward the image of Wonwoo's grandmother. "They were the family of one of the most remarkable goldsmiths of that time. Your grandparents might have known them."

Y/N replied, "They passed away when I was young."

Sunmi expressed her condolences before continuing with the story. "He used to work under her father as an errand boy then as an accountant to support his family. His own father was a loan shark who valued money more than feeding his wife and children." Sunmi's voice carried a mix of sadness and understanding. "Her father held him in high regard, perhaps because he recognized his potential. When my mother-in-law was 16, she fell in love with a local thug and ran away from home when her father found out. But, unfortunately—or fortunately, as life would have it—that thug never showed up at their decided meeting spot."

Sunmi went on, "Omonie's father was highly respected in his community. To save face and preserve their family's reputation, he decided to marry his only daughter to Wonwoo's grandfather and sent them here."

As the story unfolded, Y/N learned about the rich history of the ring she now wore. Sunmi revealed, "Abeonim hated making jewelry, but he was sadly skilled at it. This ring is the first and last piece he designed and made, created solely for his wife. He gave it to her as a symbol of his love, after confessing his feelings to her, of course." Sunmi chuckled softly, her eyes reflecting fond memories.

With a deep breath, Sunmi summed up the heartwarming tale, "She wore it until her deathbed, and much to the dismay of few people, she passed it down to Wonwoo. Funny how sometimes the things we consider as misfortune turn out to be blessings in disguise."

The conversation continued as they made their way toward the grand staircase, and the gentle sunlight filtered through the mansion's windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished floor.

Sunmi began, "It wasn't until their 30th wedding anniversary that Abeonim told me why that guy couldn't make it; he was busy getting a beating from him."

Y/N chuckled, "You were quite close to them, weren't you?"

Sunmi confessed, "Not initially, but Wooshik was very close to his parents. After my first miscarriage, our family doctor suggested I be around people, and we moved in with them. Some days were more disagreeable then previous one’s but she thought me that ties made out of love can be stronger than of blood if we are ready to bend our knees and let Love take precedence over pride."

They had strolled out of the mansion without realizing it and were now heading towards the greenhouse. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of various-colored iris flowers. These irises painted a mesmerizing display with deep purples and pale blues, their colors dancing under the gentle sunlight. Birds chirped cheerfully, and a pleasant breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees.

Sunmi, her eyes filled with memories, noted, "These are her favorite flowers." She reached out to touch a petal, gently caressing it. "She and Abeonim planted them together."

Sunmi extended her hand to touch a petal of the iris, gently caressing it. As she spoke, her eyes held a mist, like she was transported back in time. "I used to ask her how she knew that she loved him," she began, her voice filled with nostalgia. "She said, Wooshik's father is not a man of many words, but when you look at him closely, you can see his love and consideration woven into every action. Empty promises may sound sweet to the ears, but it's the actions that truly win the heart."

Y/N listened intently, her gaze lowered to the ground. Unbeknownst to her, her thoughts began to drift to the moments she had shared with Wonwoo – him holding her hand in court, refusing to leave her side at dinner until she had finished at least half her meal, sitting next to her on that cramped airplane after their wedding, defending her against Nikolai and even his own parents. These past two months had been a whirlwind, and it felt as though a lifetime of experiences had been crammed into this short time. Y/N found herself questioning when the last time she had genuinely laughed was. When had she last felt like she had someone to lean on when life got heavy?

Her eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation. As she looked up, still lost in thought, she noticed Wonwoo and Noel approaching, accompanied by Jungkook, who held Somi's hand. They were engaged in a lively conversation and carried fishing equipment. Noel sat on Wonwoo's shoulders, a beaming smile on all their faces.

"Y/N," her voice broke through your musings, "misunderstanding is that poison that can spoil even the strongest roots, especially when you pick up words that are hushed in the corners."

You realized that she knew about the disagreement that had taken place between you and Wonwoo the previous day.

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Sunmi gazed at you intently for a few moments and then confessed, "I was quick to misunderstand you, your intentions, and even the origins of Noel. I assumed, to the extent of thinking you were barren, and I even questioned the reasons you married my son. You know, I've had some bitter experiences," she emphasized. "But my son made me realize that sometimes, in order to understand someone, you have to step into their shoes, not just view them through your own lens."

She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "My heart goes out to Noel's birth parents and the struggles they must have endured to protect their child from their own family. I am grateful because of you, I am seeing glimpses of the Wonu we lost at 16 after the death of his friend Mingyu. Please forgive me, my darling. I hope we can put the mistakes of the past behind us and make new memories as a family, creating a special place for Noel in both our families and our hearts."

You reciprocated her squeeze, offering a warm smile and nod. However, your mind was racing with questions about what had happened to Wonwoo at 16 and who this mysterious Mingyu was. Underneath the guilt, you couldn't help but wonder how much it would hurt when you and Wonwoo eventually divorced in five years, as per your agreement. The guilt from the conversation with your father-in-law wasn't enough not forgetting the fact the history and rekindling of friendship between him and your mother.

You engaged in a brief conversation, Sunmi updating you on the progress she and your mother made with the upcoming Gala at the end of next month. When, her phone buzzed, signaling that it was time for her medicine and to leave the greenhouse, and you both headed out.

As you emerged from the greenhouse with Sunmi, Wonwoo spotted you and his mother walking together. His brows knitted in confusion at the sight. Sunmi waved goodbye and went in the direction of the pool house, leaving you to continue your journey.

You soon noticed Joon-hee, accompanied by Eleanor, walking together. Joon-hee's daughter, excitedly spotting her, let go of Jungkook's hand and rushed towards her mother, screaming, "Mama!" With a joyful smile, she picked her up in her arms, showering her with kisses.

Meanwhile, Noel, who had been sitting on Wonwoo's shoulders, observed the commotion and excitement. He saw you approaching and couldn't contain his enthusiasm. With a loud, enthusiastic shout, he exclaimed, "Tante!" and waved his little arms energetically. All eyes turned toward you as Noel's excitement drew their attention.

Wonwoo put down his wiggling form, and the little boy immediately darted towards you. You opened your arms, and as he reached you, he threw his little arms around your neck and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"Did you have fun?" you asked softly, your fingers gently caressing his back. The warmth of his embrace filled you with joy.

Noel pulled away from your embrace, his face beaming with enthusiasm. "Grandpa taught me how to hook a worm, and I even helped him reel in," he excitedly recounted in French.

You smiled at his youthful excitement. "That sounds like a lot of fun. What else did you do?" you inquired as you both approached the entrance where the rest of the group was standing.

Noel continued his story, animatedly sharing, "Then, Jk and Dad's hooks got tangled in the water, and they both thought they caught a fish. They started pulling, but when they saw their hooks caught each other, they started fighting. All of us just laughed, and then Grandpa scolded them for fighting and put them in two different corners."

Your attention shifted to Wonwoo as he heard "Dad?" Noel looked at you with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard. But before either of them could respond, Somi chimed in, saying, "Yes, Uncle Jk was pouting the whole time," and she laughed.

Impressed by her fluency in French, you asked, "Wow, Somi, you speak such nice French. Who taught you?"

Somi beamed with pride, responding, "Thank you. Aunt Wonwoo and Mama taught me."

Joon-hee corrected her, saying, "You mean Uncle. Her pronouns are a bit weak."

You offered reassurance, saying, "It's alright, Somi. You'll get the hang of it." The atmosphere was filled with warmth.

"Noona studied in Switzerland, right?" Jungkook asked, then corrected himself, saying, "Sorry, I mean Heyongnim."

You smiled warmly at Jungkook's question. "It's alright, Jungkook, you can call me Noona. Yes, I was mostly based in Switzerland for the last 12 years."

Wonwoo exchanged a curious glance between you and Jungkook, who playfully stuck his tongue out at him.

Joon-hee added, "Well, the four of us," emphasizing herself, Wonwoo, Jungkook, and Eleanor, "we all studied in London."

You nodded in agreement. "Yes, Wonwoo told me about that." He didn't, you read it in his file that Rachel made. 

However, the unexpected voice of Eleanor chimed in, a question that surprised you given her prior lack of interest in your conversations. "Don't you miss your friends and family back home?"

Bending down to Noel's eye level, you glanced at Eleanor with a raised eyebrow but quickly composed yourself, aware of Wonwoo's watchful gaze. "Yes, sometimes I miss my friends from the old school."

You swinged the hand you held and asked, "What about JJ and Vicky?"

He smiled and responded, "Yes, I miss them too, but I talk to them every day."

Eleanor continued with feigned innocence, "And what about your parents?" Her words cut through the air like a sudden chill, and you instinctively tightened your grip on Noel's small hand. Wonwoo, too, glared at her at the same moment, clearly sharing your displeasure. What was her problem? You were about to speak when Noel calmly said, "I do, but Tante says they are always with me," placing his hand on his heart. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded back, reassurance in your eyes.

The atmosphere grew tense, and you could see the muscles in Wonwoo's jaw twitching. Jungkook, always quick on the uptake, chimed in, "Funny how children have more sensibility compared to some adults," his eyebrow arched and a sarcastic smirk on his lips as he glanced at Eleanor. Then he reached his free hand over and ruffled Noel's hair.

"Baby boy, why don't you go inside and ask Mrs. Tham to pack your bag? We'll be leaving after lunch, right?" You looked at Wonwoo, who nodded in agreement. The tension was palpable, and it seemed like a wise decision to change the topic and move forward.

But just as he was about to do so, Somi grabbed his hand and said, "Mama, can't Noel and I have a sleepover?"

Joon-hee sighed and replied, "No, baby, we have to leave as well. You both have school on Monday."

Somi's reaction was swift, like thunder preceding a lightning strike. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she dropped to the ground, wailing loudly. "No! I want to have a sleepover with Noel! I don't want to go home! I want to have a sleepover now! Now! Now!"

"Damn, Joon-hee, your daughter definitely takes after you," Jungkook remarked.

Joon-hee rolled her eyes and snapped, "Shut up, JK."

"Kwon Somi, get up from the ground this instant!" she sternly commanded.

But Somi was having none of it. "NO! NO!!! NO!!! I WILL HOLD MY BREATH UNTIL YOU AGREE!" she declared, puffing out her cheeks defiantly.

You were taken aback by the scene. How come my child never throws a tantrum like that? You gave Joon-hee a thin-lipped, sympathetic smile. She put her hands on her hips and said, "This girl, wait till I tell your father."

"And what's he going to do? Roll on the ground with her?" Jungkook quipped.

Joon-hee glared at Jungkook, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

You crouched down to Somi's level and said, "Hey, Somi, can I tell you something?" The girl, hiccuping now, stopped her wailing and listened. "How about you first get up from the ground? It's dirty and filled with insects and germs, okay?"

Somi remained on the ground. You continued, "Come on, I know you're a good girl. If you'd like, you can come to our place and have as many sleepovers as you like. I'm sure Noel would like that, right, baby?"

Noel remained silent, which left you a bit puzzled. So he wants to have a sleepover too but isn't saying it…

Jungkook clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "How about this: let the kids have a sleepover, and we can have a little drinks around the fire, like the old times."

"No, I can't. I haven't seen my husband in the last two days, and I want to go home," Joon-hee insisted.

Somi started wailing even louder. "Oh, come on, call him here. Just ask him to drop by in his chopper," Jungkook suggested. "Hyung, come on. We rarely get together."

"Noona," he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and a pout.

You turned to Noel and asked, "Do you want to have a sleepover with Somi?" He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"What do you say, Wonwoo?" you asked, looking at him.

"I'm fine with it if you are," Wonwoo replied. These were the first words you had exchanged since last night.

"Okay, it's settled then. Thank you, Noona, you're the best. Let's head inside," Jungkook exclaimed.

"Joon-hee, call Hoshi hyung. I haven't seen him in a while!" Jungkook added.

Joon-hee retorted, "If you miss him so much, then call him yourself, you ass."

You rose up and gestured inside with your head, saying, "Shall we?" and started walking inside. Jungkook left with the bags, and Eleanor, whom you had forgotten was still standing there, followed Joon-hee.

As you were almost inside, Wonwoo gently grabbed your arm and softly said, "Can we talk?" You looked at him and then back at Noel, who was heading inside. Nodding in agreement, you told Noel, "You go in first, sweetheart."

Noel disappeared into the mansion, leaving you alone with Wonwoo. He gestured toward a picturesque gazebo nestled in the garden, surrounded by various vibrant peonies of different colors. The gazebo was adorned with comfortable couches and a small table, creating an inviting atmosphere for conversations and relaxation.

You followed Wonwoo to the gazebo, the fragrance of the blooming peonies filling the air as you both settled down on the couch.

The sun beamed down in the noon, and birds chirped melodiously in the background as you and Wonwoo settled into the comfortable gazebo. He opened and closed his mouth as if struggling to find the right words to say. However, before he could speak, your phone rang. Rachel's name flashed on the screen, and you answered the call.

"Yes, Rach? What's up?" you inquired.

"I was wondering what time you'll be here," she responded.

"Well, we're having an impromptu gathering, and the kids wanted to have a sleepover. So, in all probability, tomorrow morning," you explained, examining your nails casually. "Why do you ask?"

"I see. Then I'm sending you some files; please check them," Rachel informed you.

"Sure, I'll take a look. See you tomorrow. Bye," you replied, ending the call. Placing your phone on the table, you waited for Wonwoo to begin.

He cleared his throat and mentioned, "So, Rachel?"

"Why, curious?"

Wonwoo's gaze, filled with intensity, made you uncomfortable. "You may find it difficult to believe, but these days I find myself curious about you. Your past, your feelings, your day-to-day life. Will you ease my curiosity, Y/N?" he asked.

your palms grow slightly sweaty under his scrutinizing stare. You replied, "I don't know what to say, Wonwoo."

He gently reached for your hand but then hesitated, holding himself back. "I am sorry, Y/N, for my words last night. I know I hurt your feelings."

As you sat there, your eyes were drawn to the serene lake behind him. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you uttered,

"I don't think you can hurt a woman who has already been hurt by her own heart. I've loved a man who belonged to someone I cherished the most in the world. You just called me something that most were afraid to say out loud."

"Y/N, I—" Wonwoo began.

"Wonwoo, don't you think it's very hypocritical of me to criticize you when we're both using each other equally? To fill our voids, to soothe a guilt, punishing ourselves for something we had no control over?" you said, avoiding a direct answer.

"Don't you get tired?" Wonwoo asked, his eyes searching yours.

Your gaze met his, and you replied, "I do, but then I remember I have someone's childhood in my hand."

The wind ruffled your hair, and the sun's reflection in your eyes made you look radiant in Wonwoo's eyes. He reached out and tucked the rebel strand behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. A warmth crept into your cheeks, and you became acutely aware of the heat between you two.

"That day at my parents' house, I told them about Noella's family and even the reason why his family is a threat to him," He admitted.

"I know. Your mother told me about it, and I'm regretful of my accusations regarding their intentions. They're good people," You acknowledged.

"Y/N, you know what my father said to me today? He said, 'You can't be good at everything, but that doesn't mean you can't do anything. Just because we can't solve each other's every problem, that doesn't mean we can't understand them. I know we both have our reasons for doing the things we do, and maybe one day we'll trust each other enough to talk about it.'"

A small smile played on your lips and thought We're in too deep to go back now, aren't we Wonwoo?

"And since we're both on the same team, why don't we treat each other as one?" Wonwoo suggested.

"I like the sound of that," you replied, feeling a sense of relief.

"So, friends?" he offered, extending his hand for you to shake.

"Friends," you agreed, shaking his hand.

"Again, I'm sorry about last night. I don't know why I reacted the way I did," Wonwoo apologized.

"Hmm, I'm sorry too," you admitted.

"So, we're cool then?" he inquired.

"Wait," you scrunched your brows, "don't you want to apologize for one more thing?"

"About what?" Wonwoo looked perplexed for a moment, then glanced at your lips. "Oh, you mean the kiss."

You nodded, displaying your obvious annoyance. "Yes."

"Yeah, no, I'm not sorry about it," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You kissed me back."

"Seriously," you muttered.

"Why should I apologize for something I don't regret?" Wonwoo teased.

"You're unbelievable," you grumbled and began to march back to the mansion, leaving the laughing man and your phone behind.

As you reached the second floor and settled into your room, you realized your phone was absent. Puzzled, you retraced your steps, intending to retrieve it. However, while heading back downstairs, you happened to glimpse Wonwoo and Eleanor through the window on the second story. They were engaged in a hushed conversation, their faces close, and Wonwoo was gripping Eleanor's forearm.

Your lips tightened into a thin line, and you decided not to intervene. You continued to your room, thinking that it was time to check your emails and get back to your work. Before you entered your room, you stopped a passing maid and asked her to retrieve your phone from the gazebo where you had left it earlier.

Wonwoo was smiling to himself when he noticed your phone on the table. He picked it up, the corners of his lips curling upwards at some amusing thought.

Just as he turned to head back into the mansion, a voice cut through the air, "What's got you smiling like that, Wonnie?"

The voice that once felt like a first sip of water after walking in the desert now felt like swallowing sand. He ignored her and continued walking.

Eleanor, however, wasn't one to be ignored. She stepped in his way, a sly smile playing on her lips. "What do you want, Eleanor?"

He drew in a breath and stared down at her with a stern expression. "What we can't even talk now? We weren't on that bad of terms five months ago. Or is it that you're trying to get into good graces by playing a virtuous husband to your young wife and doting father to a little charity case? I must say, I'm loving this look on you."

His patience was running thin, and he harshly grabbed her elbow, pulling her close as he spoke through clenched teeth. "That night was one of the most regrettable nights of my life, you chose this for yourself so now live with it. You're the last person who should be talking about virtue here. Keep my wife's and son's names out of your damn mouth, because if I start, you won't have anything left to crawl back to."

Eleanor's eyes widened at the intensity in his voice. She stammered, "You have no idea who you're messing with. I am a congressman's wife."

Wonwoo let out a bitter laugh and looked down at her with pity. "The way you act, you don't seem like one. Stay out of my family's business unless you don't mind losing whatever faux pride is left in you."

With that, he shoved her out of the way and stormed inside the mansion. Eleanor gritted her teeth, vowing to herself, "You will regret this, Jeon Wonwoo."

...

...

The airport bustled with travelers from around the world. The Heathrow Airport was a massive, modern structure, filled with glass windows that allowed the daylight to stream in, and a high ceiling that made the space feel grand. Travelers scurried about, dragging their luggage, while the constant sound of announcements echoed through the terminal.

In this bustling environment, Jeonghan and Victor emerged from their arrival gate, eager and excited. They were welcomed by Victor's sister, who stood there with a placard that read, "Grooms to be." Her enthusiasm was contagious, and she exchanged warm hugs with the newly arrived duo.

"Welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice. "We have so much to do today. First, let's head to your new home, and then we have a dinner appointment with your wedding planner."

As they left the airport, Victor's sister skillfully maneuvered her way through the London traffic, and along the way, Jeonghan and Victor caught up. They discussed what Jeonghan had been up to, particularly his new thesis project.

Then, curious about their plans, Victor's sister inquired, "When is your friend, Y/N, coming?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but beam at the thought. "I plan to go there and surprise her myself, and my mother is coming too. We know it's in the middle of all the planning, but I can't wait to see their shocked faces." He interlaced his fingers with Victor's, their hands held firmly together and planted a kiss at the back of Victor's hand.

...

In a lavish hotel room on Hoxton Street, Nikolai paced restlessly, an expensive crystal glass filled with aged, amber whiskey in his hand. The glass was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, etched with intricate patterns, and the whiskey inside was a fine, aged liquor that spoke of luxury and taste.

He was in a heated phone conversation, his voice laced with frustration. "What do you mean they're threatening to cancel the contract?" His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the glass. The voice on the other end explained in German , "They're saying that if you aren't able to secure capital within three weeks, they will cancel the contract."

Nikolai could feel his blood pressure rising as he processed the information. "Did you tell this to Dad?"

The person on the line replied indifferently, "Boss says that this is your project, your problem."

Nikolai's patience wore thin. He hurled the phone against the wall in a fit of rage. His loyal lackey stood nearby, watching his boss slowly lose his composure.

"Find out where Noella's little bastard is and end him right on the spot, and make it look like an accident," Nikolai demanded, taking a menacing step forward.

The lackey hesitated, "I don't think killing the child will be beneficial."

"Say what?" Nikolai demanded an explanation.

The lackey continued, "Our insider said that, according to Ms. Noella's will, if something were to happen to her, the kid will go with Y/N. But there's no mention of what to do if something were to happen to Y/N."

Nikolai contemplated this for a moment. "But the court has a restraining order against me."

The lackey smirked and added, "But not against boss."

Nikolai's lips curled into a sadistic smile. The lackey pushed further, "That way, we can have access to all of his inheritance."

"But what about Dad? He will not agree," Nikolai pointed out.

The lackey, always ready with a solution, pondered for a few seconds and replied, "Everything takes a little convincing. I'm sure he misses Ms. Noella, especially after the death of Mrs. Bulavia. Having her child near him may soothe his pain. And this way, you will also gain his favor. As far as the restraining order is concerned, what is there in this world that money can't buy?"

Nikolai gulped down the remaining drink in his glass and grabbed the lackey's face, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You are a genius."

"Thank you, sir," the lackey said with a sinister smile.

Nikolai turned to the window, his eyes scanning the busy streets below, and he thought, 'So long, Y/N.'

...

...

Slowly, as per schedule, all the family guests left. After lunch, everyone except for Wonwoo's and Jungkook's parents, Aunt Haeri, and Lee Chan had departed. Aunt Haeri had an early morning surgery, and Lee Chan left with Mrs. Tham. Joon-hee assured you that Somi's caretaker would be there to watch over the kids, so there was nothing to worry about. However, your mother-in-law insisted that Cecilia, the head caretaker of the mansion, be there just in case to take care of Noel.

You were working in your room, engrossed in your tasks to check the proposal's file, and lost track of time. You didn't even realize when the sun settled down and the stars emerged in the sky. There was a knock at your door, and you called, "Enter." Noel appeared in the room, dressed in his nightwear. You smiled and said, "Hey, baby boy, all ready for your first sleepover?"

He looked a bit confused and replied, "But we used to have sleepovers all the time."

You gently placed the laptop on the bed and pulled Noel into your lap, saying, "Well, yes, but this is your first sleepover with a friend."

Noel nodded excitedly. "You're liking it in here, aren't you?"

He nodded and replied, "Yes, everyone has been good to me, especially Grandma and Grandpa. They even said that I can visit them whenever I like. And Somi said that I look cool when I speak French, so I help her as well."

You brushed his innocent, cerulean eyes, pushing his fringes aside, and asked, "Oh, did she now?"

You advised him with a smile, "Have fun, and no scary stories or horror movies, okay? And not too many sugary drinks before bed."

Noel protested, "Tante, I'm not a kid anymore."

You kissed his chubby cheeks and said, "Yes, yes, you're a big boy now." He fidgeted with his fingers.

Then he mentioned, "In the afternoon, when I called Uncle Wonwoo 'Dad,' you didn't mind, right? Grandpa told me that he is my dad now, not my uncle, so I should call him that."

You reassured him, "It's not about me, but about you. Don't let anyone pressure you into something you don't like. You can continue calling him 'Uncle' if you're comfortable with that."

Noel contemplated and then responded, "I don't mind calling him 'Dad'."

You smiled and told him, "If that's what you want." Then you asked, "How come you never call me 'Mom'?"

Noel explained, "Because you're Tante." You kissed his forehead and said, "And you'll forever be my baby boy. You know, Noel, if you ever want something, you can always tell me about it."

"Even throw a tantrum?" Noel asked.

You chuckled and said, "Well, not to the extent of rolling on the floor, but yes, you can." He continued to tell you about JJ, who called and is also excited about his first sleepover.

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo, whom you hadn't seen since lunch, was standing, or rather leaning, against the door frame, looking at the both of you. Noel spotted him first and hopped down from your lap, giving you a hug and saying, "Good night, Tante."

You smiled and replied, "Good night, baby boy." Noel then went to Wonwoo and wished him, "Good night, Dad." Wonwoo ruffled Noel's hair, saying, "Good night, bud. Have fun."

As Cecilia came to pick him up, Wonwoo closed the door behind him and plopped down on the bed next to your feet. You picked up the laptop again, reading the file, and he remarked, "Well, at least someone will have fun."

Your eyes were glued to the laptop as you teasingly asked, "Why is that, 'Dad'?"

Wonwoo opened one of his eyes to peer up at you from his lying position and replied with a grin, "Jealous much?"

You retorted, "Oh, please, you should be proud of me. Most women take at least nine months to make their husband a dad, and I made you one within two months."

You both shared a laugh. He added, "What can I say, words fail me. I have such a talented wife."

With a sigh, he confessed, "God, Y/N, I don't want to go."

You empathized, "Then don't."

He challenged your reluctance, saying, "You have no idea, JK will kick down this door and drag us there. He can be a little—"

"Persistent?" you offered.

"Well, he's a lawyer. What else do you expect?" adding further.

"But I wish it were just that. Jungkook's friend will also be there."

You questioned, "Congressman Lee?"

Wonwoo confirmed, "Uh huh."

"That means Eleanor will also be there," you pointed out.

He responded with a nonchalant tone, "Hmm."

You recalled their interaction earlier by the gazebo and couldn't help mentioning it, your voice growing more serious. "You weren't dreading her presence when talking to her in front of the gazebo after I left."

Wonwoo rose up from his position and stood in front of you, trying to explain, "Y/n, I swear she stopped my way. It's not what you think."

You questioned, "And what do I think?"

He was at a loss for words and struggled to explain further, "Listen, Y/n, she stopped my way—"

You cut him off with a composed response, "It's alright, Wonwoo, you don't owe me an explanation. It's none of my business."

He seemed taken aback by your response, so you continued, "So, whatever I do is none of your business."

You responded calmly, "Well, until the time it doesn't directly affect mine or Noel's life, it's not."

Wonwoo tried to test your reaction further, asking, "So, you wouldn't mind if I flirt with other women?"

You nonchalantly shrugged, your inner thoughts conflicted. The angel on your right shoulder whispered, "You're digging yourself a grave, Y/n." Meanwhile, the angel on your left shoulder cheered, "Tell him. If he doesn't mind you flirting with other men."

With a mischievous smile, you responded, "Sure, if you don't mind me flirting with other men." you can hear a small sound of someone face palming themselves from your right shoulder.

His reaction was swift. Wonwoo bent down to your eye level and lightly grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, his gaze intense as he said, "I'd like to see you try." The unexpected sensuality in his voice made your core tighten in reflex, and you couldn't help but clench at the sensation. He smirked at your dumbfounded expression, then turned to the wardrobe and took out a pair of black wide-leg formal trousers and a cotton shirt.

Wonwoo emerged after changing into his attire, his shirt fashionably unbuttoned at the top, offering a teasing glimpse of his well-defined chest. His silver Rolex Yacht-Master II watch graced his wrist, and his sleeves were casually rolled up, giving him an effortlessly stylish look. There was no denying the fact that Wonwoo was an attractive man, and the addition of his glasses only accentuated his intellectual charm.

As you watched him, you often found yourself pondering why male poets wrote pages describing the beauty of women when there seemed to be insufficient words to truly appreciate a man's splendor. Maybe it was because men wanted the world to know about the magnificence of the objects of their admiration, while women preferred to keep such treasures safely nestled within their hearts.

Caught in your contemplation, you met Wonwoo's playful smirk with a knowing smile "Like what you see?"

You refrained from entertaining his teasing and looked back at your laptop.

"Are you coming?" Wonwoo asked.

You replied, "I'll be there after replying to a few emails and checking the sheets."

He offered, "You can skip if you're not feeling up to it."

You told him, "I'll think about it," and returned to your work. About twenty minutes passed, but you couldn't shake the thought of your attractive husband outside.

'Isn't he looking a bit too good then normal?' a small voice spoke from your left shoulder. what will she do in front of her husband? The memory of her throwing herself in front of Wonwoo's car on your wedding day sent goosebumps racing across your skin. I mean, you're certain that everyone is aware of their history but 'you can't let yourself be disrespected like that if something does happens there,while you're in the same premises as them'.

Fine, you decided, "I'll attend," and in no time, you had changed into a black viscose mini dress and some comfortable Isola flat mules. Letting your hair down and applying light makeup, Within half an hour you headed to the pool house where everyone had gathered.

Jungkook skillfully mixed drinks at the bar, engaged in conversation with Congressman Lee. Eleanor animatedly recounted the story of how they once stayed past curfew to attend a Beyoncé concert.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo sat on a cozy two-seater, his legs crossed, and a glass of wine resting on his perched knee. He seemed rather disinterested in the ongoing conversation and was scrolling in his phone. Joon-hee nestled in her husband's lap, you try to put a name to the face, Ah Kwon Hoshi the two of them sharing affectionate smiles as they listened to Eleanor's tale.

Kwon Hoshi, the heir of Tiger Baby Media. It was widely known in their social circles that both he and his father were passionate about tigers, even actively supporting causes to protect these magnificent creatures.

'when did he arrive?' then you recall the loud noise of a chopper landing on the helipad outside around 5 pm. A maid, upon being questioned, informed you that Han Joon-hee's husband had arrived.

"Oh, Noona, you made it," Jungkook greeted you as you entered, the first to notice your arrival. All eyes turned in your direction, but it was Wonwoo's gaze that lingered on you. He couldn't help but gulp as you both appeared to be perfectly coordinated.

"What would you like, whiskey or wine?" Jungkook inquired.

"Whiskey, please," you replied.

"Right away." Jungkook set about preparing your drink. You settled down next to Wonwoo, who slipped his phone into his pocket and casually placed his hand behind the headrest, your right shoulder lightly brushing against his chest.

You exchanged pleasantries with Kwon Hoshi, acknowledging Congressman Lee who just raised his glass at your direction and his wife, who was giving you disapproving looks.

Amid the conversation with Joon-hee, Wonwoo leaned in and whispered in your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. "You look ravishing," he praised, sniffing behind your ear. "and smell fucking delicious."

You turned your head and whispered back, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Complimenting my wife," he responded.

If two can play at this game, you thought to yourself and whispered in his ear, "You don't look half bad yourself."

He seemed to be getting a bit buzzed. Jungkook handed you your drink, and you thanked him. Jungkook took a seat in a single chair opposite Hoshi and Joon-hee, while Eleanor and her husband sat across from you and Wonwoo.

Lee Joon-suk sipped from his glass, his eyes unfocused as he reclined in his seat, and then he started addressing you, "Ms. Y/N, you've grown into a fine young lady. I remember you when you were sixteen, accompanying your mother to the exhibitions hosted by my aunt." He turned to look at Wonwoo and remarked, "You're one lucky guy."

Wonwoo cleared his throat, replying, "Sure am."

Lee Joon-suk continued, "I heard that you both are working on a resort together." You nodded and said, "Yes, construction is underway."

He drained his glass and set it on the table. "Well, do let me know if you need any help. It's always a pleasure to be of use to a beautiful young lady."

You felt the annoyance radiating from Wonwoo, his grip tightening around his glass. To ease the tension, you placed your hand on his knee and replied, "My husband and I will keep that in mind."

You didn't miss the subtle smile Joon-hee gave behind her glass, raising her eyebrows in intrigue.

As the moon ascended higher in the night sky, food and drinks continued to flow. You had a helping of food and kept taking small sips from your glass. You couldn't afford to get drunk in front of people you had just met. Wonwoo, too, switched to whiskey. He apparently had a higher tolerance than you initially thought.

The mood was light, and jokes were exchanged. Hoshi and Jungkook began playfully teasing Wonwoo.

Jungkook grinned mischievously and quipped, "Hey, Hoshi Hyung , you remember, he used to be such workaholic he even brought his laptop as a plus one to your wedding"

Hoshi chimed in, "Yeah, man Y/N must have done some real magic, For you to agree to get married."

Wonwoo, unfazed, responded with a smirk, "Well, what can I say I had no interst in seeing him cosplay a tiger in white suit and kiss my sister every five minutes"

You couldn't help but smile at the back and forth, your nerves relaxed to the point you didn't even mind,The hand that was initially behind you slowly settled on your nape, fingers pressing lightly on your left collarbone. Your hand, which had been drawing circles on his knee, reached up to his thigh. Laughter filled the air as everyone shared antidotes from their past, and they chuckled, except for Eleanor, who remained silent, her discomfort palpable. Isn't it funny how fate works at one point where someone who used to be the most important after a time seem irrelevant.

Upon Jungkook's insistence he poured you an another glass, you weren't drunk but you were feeling a little buzzed, your back comfortably against Wonwoo's chest, his warm breath on the top of your head.

Amid the jovial atmosphere, Jungkook suddenly whined, "Guys, I'm the only one without a partner here!"

You tilted your head curiously, "Jungkook, why don't you have a partner?"

Joon-hee, ever the sharp-tongued one, chimed in, "Well, he's the jack of all trades, master of none. He's been switching partners so often that at the end, he's all alone."

Jungkook pouted and complained, "Noona, for the past few days, I've wanted someone, but she's not giving me a chance!"

Wonwoo, intrigued, asked, "Do we know her, kookie?"

Jungkook smirked and replied, "Well, not you, but Noona knows her very well, actually." Making you knit your brows in confusion. He then stumbled over to the bar, grabbed an empty wine bottle, and suggested, "Let's play truth or dare!"

Several rounds of the game later, the bottle landed on Wonwoo, and he chose "dare." Jungkook, with a mischievous glint in his eye, gave him a wicked ultimatum: eat a spoonful of hot sauce or switch to "truth" and share his most embarrassing sexual encounter.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo opted for the hot sauce. However, as soon as the spoon rested on his taste buds the pain made him realise that people can see stars with their eyes close as well. His face turned red, sweat poured down his forehead, and his eyes watered uncontrollably.

You saw Eleanor concerned face as she rose to grab the water bottle for the side but Quickly, you grabbed an ice cube from your glass, put it in your mouth, and took Wonwoo's face in your hands. You kissed him deeply, letting the ice cube melt in his mouth as your lips met his. After breaking the kiss, you looked into his eyes and asked with a smile, "Feeling better now?"

Wonwoo, still recovering from the fiery hot sauce, nodded. whatever little intoxication he felt, all sobered down you noticed his eyes slightly dilated.

Amidst the collective "ooooooo" of amazement and laughter that echoed around the room, Jungkook exclaimed, "Damn, Noona, you're so cool!" playfully teasing.

But what soured eleanor's mood further was that her husband had indulged a bit too much in the drinks. Eleanor excused herself from the group, helping her tipsy spouse as she made her way towards the door. Jungkook kindly offered to prepare a guest room for her, but she politely declined, explaining that she had a meeting with the party board members early the next morning. Her driver was ready to assist, guiding her inebriated husband to the waiting car. Her husband slurred his goodbyes to everyone.

Amid this scene, you overheard Joon-hee's sweet words as she kissed her husband's cheek, saying, "I'm so glad my baby is not a sloppy drunk." Hoshi, who had also had his share of drinks and was now sporting rosy cheeks, gave a warm, somewhat goofy smile that was reminiscent of Somi's charming expressions. It was a heartwarming moment.

It was now Jungkook's turn, you dared him to do ten shots off Hoshi's body. He whined, saying, "Noona, are you trying to kill me here?" You retorted, "You should have thought of that before you shoved hot sauce down my husband's throat," which caused Wonwoo to burst into laughter.

"So you both a team now huh?

Hoshi lay down on the now empty table, and Joon-hee lined up the shots on her husband's body. Jungkook managed to down six shots before he fell onto a two-seater couch. Out as the daylight, Wonwoo rang for the butler to assist Jungkook to his room.

You turned to find Hoshi and Joon-hee, lost in their own world, were busy making out, while you and Wonwoo sat in tense silence,

Things were getting a bit too steamy with Hoshi and Joon-hee, so you leaned over to Wonwoo and whispered, "I think it's time for us to call it a night."

Wonwoo nodded in agreement, and you both quietly excused yourselves from the room.

You were acutely conscious of his presence behind you. The flavors of whiskey and hot sauce still clung to your taste buds, and Wonwoo wasn't faring any better. His heart raced in his chest as you led the way. You held the door open for him, and he stepped inside. You followed, your against the door, trying to regain your composure, and your breaths came in measured counts.

In the stillness of the night, your hands worked swiftly to find and secure the lock, while you and Wonwoo engaged in an unspoken duel of wills. It was a contest of who could maintain the intense gaze without faltering. Your fingers danced behind the door, seeking the lock mechanism, and when it finally yielded with a soft click, the sound reverberated in the room.

The room was wrapped in a cocoon of silence, interrupted only by the gentle hum of crickets serenading the night outside. Wonwoo, with his hand extended, palm up, broke the silent challenge, offering you to take his hand. He whispered softly, "Come here."

You pushed away from the door and took a step towards him, your hand slipping into his. His warm, calloused fingers caressed your knuckles before he raised your hand to his lips, recreating the tender gesture from the first time he visited your house for dinner. His deep kiss spoke volumes without uttering a word.

Wordlessly, he turned your hand still in his and guided you towards the curtained window. With a graceful sweep, he drew the curtains aside, “you know why I always chose this room". You couldn't trust your voice at that moment, so you silently mouthed, 'why.'

He moved behind you, his strong arms encircling your waist. His warm breath tickled your neck as he answered, "Because of this."

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the breathtaking view. The path leading to the garden was bathed in subtle, soft lights. Around the irises, many fireflies danced, casting a mesmerizing glow. It was as if the stars had descended from the heavens and were scattered across the ground, creating a scene that was nothing short of magical.

"It's beautiful," you breathed in admiration as you took in the enchanting view.

"It is," the timber of his voice resonated through you, adding to the enchantment of the moment. You turned to find him already gazing down at you, a silent understanding passing between you. Your eyes danced between his eyes and his lips, and as if drawn by an invisible force, you both leaned in, closing the distance that separated you.

He captured your lips with his, and the world outside disappeared into the embrace of your shared kiss. It was a moment that needed no words, a moment of perfect togetherness under the canopy of stars and fireflies.

Your senses were ablaze as the taste of whiskey on his tongue mingled with the faint remnant of hot sauce on yours. His hands moved with a gentleness that contradicted the burning intensity of the kiss, sliding up your arms.

Time slipped away as you explored each other's lips with a fierce longing, the tension that had lingered between you all evening now ignited into a passionate flame. The heat in the room seemed to increase, and the air became charged with electricity.

Wonwoo's kisses trailed down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He whispered in your ear, "I think we've had enough games for tonight."

Your hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the contours of his sculpted chest. "I couldn't agree more."

PG-15 VERSION ENDS HERE

A/N: (After '------' this line you can read the Extra)

You felt Wonwoo's fingers deftly working at the zipper of your dress, allowing the fabric to cascade to the floor. Your bare skin tingled under his touch. His lips found yours once more, and you could taste the raw desire in his kiss.

Wonwoo gently lifted you, carrying you to the bed guided you to your knees and took a step back to appreciate your enticing appearance. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you looked up at him, your eyes dilated and filled with longing. He put his hand on your shoulder, his voice deep and sensual as he whispered, "Tell me you want this."

Your fingers deftly worked down the buttons of his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest beneath. With deliberate sensuality, you scraped your nails lightly down his defined abs, and he bit his lips in response to the electrifying sensation.

"I want you, Wonwoo," you murmured, your voice filled with desire. You rose, your lips trailing hot and wet kisses along his neck, down to his collarbones, and further, slowly descending toward his belly button. He threw his head back and groaned, overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensations you were invoking.

Looking up at him, you took in the effect you were having on him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, the heat of your mouth on his body driving him wild. You circled your hands around his waist, fingers working on his belt buckle, each touch stoking the fiery passion between you.

You unlatched his belt buckle and removed it from the hoop, letting it drop to the floor with a distinct cling sound. You were about to undo the button of his pants when his strong hands engulfed yours, halting your movements. Confusion flickered in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He gently cupped your chin, tilting your head up to his lips and whispered, "There's a lot of time for that, baby girl." His fingers brushed your hair away from your face, and he began to plant soft, teasing kisses along the path he traced: from your forehead, your left eye, the side of your nose, your cheeks, and the corners of your lips.

As your mouths met and opened, your tongues engaged in a sensuous dance, exploring each other's desires. His hands reached behind you to unhook the clasp, freeing you from the confining embrace of your garment.

His warm palms firmly cupped your chest, causing a deep groan to rise in your throat. He bit your lower lip, making you moan in response. Breaking the kiss, he used his left thumb and slipped it into your mouth, commanding, "Suck."

You obediently complied, wrapping your lips around his thumb and swirling your tongue sensually around it. All the while, you peered up at him, watching his reaction. He gazed down at his thumb in your mouth, his jaw clenching as if trying to control himself.

With a wet pop, he withdrew his thumb and trailed it down from your mouth to your collarbone, leaving a cold and tingling sensation in its wake. Finally, he reached your breast, circling and tweaking your nipple with a teasing touch. His right hand slid down your body, slipping beneath your panties, his fingers delving into your heated flesh with a firm and demanding grip.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but cry out, "Fuck, Wonwoo." Your head arched back as the intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. With deliberate intent, he tugged at your nipple and slowly pushed you onto your back, his desire evident in his every move.

He gripped the waistband of your panties and slowly removed them, leaving you completely bare and at his mercy. Wonwoo climbed onto the bed on his knees, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks flushed. He gazed at you with a fiery desire in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, his fingers trailing from your knees to your thighs. “Your spark lights a flame with me” He removed his glasses and threw them on the bedside table. Bending down, he began to kiss your neck, his lips exploring the sensitive skin below your ear. You moaned softly, your fingers digging into the back of his head, grazing the blades of his well-defined shoulders.

Descending further, he captured one of your nipples with his warm mouth, sending a shock of pleasure coursing through your body. After lavishing attention on one breast, he switched to the other, his tongue and lips setting your nerve endings ablaze. Your core throbbed, and you found yourself grinding your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find.

Noticing your struggle, Wonwoo quipped, "Is my baby girl in pain?" You shot him a glare, wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face. However, you had other plans. You hooked your legs behind him, and with a swift motion, you flipped positions, straddling him. Your bare sex rubbed against the rough material of his trousers, which concealed his evident arousal, and both of you hissed in response.

As he looked up at you, naked and sitting atop his clothed arousal, you began to move your hips provocatively, eliciting a throaty growl from him. "Fuck, Y/n, slow down," he implored, if you don't, I'll end up coming in my pants, He thought to himself.

You dismissed his words, your voice heavy with desire. "Less talking, more fucking." You moved your hips rhythmically, and he raised to his elbows, gripping your hips tightly to halt your movements. "Raise your hips," he instructed, "I promise I won't tease. I need to prepare you, love."

Without further delay, he began to give your bundle of nerves the attention they craved. His thumb circled your sensitive bud while he slowly inserted his forefinger inside you. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt your arousal building from your spine to your womb, flooding you with pleasure.

Your vision blurred, and the sensations washed over you, causing your body to tense and quiver. You bit into Wonwoo's neck, desperate to muffle your moans as your climax approached. His name became a chant on your lips, and your hips began to ride his hand, your movements taking on a mind of their own. You were lost in ecstasy, your world reduced to the pleasure that consumed you.

When he added a third finger, you gasped, and your hips twitched involuntarily. "Wonwoo," you gasped, and he whispered, "Let go, baby. I've got you."

With a mind of their own, your hips raised from his thighs, and you began to ride his hand, the overwhelming sensations driving you closer to your climax. You were too lost in your ecstasy to notice Wonwoo opened his trousers a little and brought out his member giving it a few pumps making him moan at the sight of you. But just as you were about to cross that exhilarating threshold, he withdrew his hand, leaving you gasping in shock. "WHAT THE FUck–" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, he seized your hips and thrust his throbbing member deep inside you.

Your world exploded as he penetrated you, and you screamed as he entered your most intimate depths, causing your inner muscles to clench around him. Two powerful thrusts were all it took for your first orgasm to crash over you, an electrifying wave of pleasure that sent you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body convulsed around him, and he groaned, overcome by the intense grip of your tightness.

Your chests pressed together, your foreheads touching, and he pushed up into you at a languid pace, allowing you to ride the waves of your orgasm. He paused when he noticed your furrowed brow, knowing you needed a moment to come back from the euphoric high.

With one arm, he held you up as you lay upon him, your hair cascading like a curtain over his face. He kissed your neck and nipped at your earlobe as he allowed you to regain your composure. As your heartbeat gradually returned to normal and you opened your eyes, a silly smile graced your lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing it’s just that in the afternoon you said let’s be friends”

“Ah”

In the blink of an eye, he shifted your positions once again. You lay on your back, and he knelt between your parted legs, your hips hovering in the air. “Then let me show you how good my friendship can be”,His hands gripped your supple buttocks, surely leaving marks in their wake. As he entered you again, you felt his gaze locked onto you with an insatiable hunger in his eyes.

With a husky whisper, he purred, with a wink, "My turn."

TBC.

.

.

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EXTRA:

When Jeonghan was in his first year of college, he read the concluding lines of the main character in Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night": "Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe; what is decreed must be, and be this so." He couldn't disagree with something more at the time, but little did he know how much he would have to eat his words.

Jeonghan had come to drop off a pin drive you'd left at home in your office. He was about to step into the elevator when Victor rushed in before him. In German, Jeonghan asked, "Hold the elevator, please," but Victor, who was also late for a meeting, just gestured to his watch and said, "Sorry, short on time." The doors closed with Victor inside, leaving Jeonghan grumbling and taking the next elevator.

When Jeonghan reached your office, he saw the same man showing you something in his file and making you sign some documents. Jeonghan glared at him, and the man looked a little awkward. You introduced Jeonghan to him.

"Ah, JJ, come in. Mr. Sine and I are almost done here," you said.

"Mr. Sine, this is my good friend, Yoon Jeonghan, an Assistant Professor at KIU," you continued.

"JJ, this is my new representative, Mr—"

"Mr. Short on Time," Jeonghan interrupted with a sly smile.

The air between the three of you seemed charged with unspoken tension. You, ever perceptive, sensed it and said, "Okay, why don't you take a seat, Mr. Sine? Shall we continue?"

Mr. Sine cleared his throat and agreed, shifting his attention back to you as he began to explain the contract clauses, pointing to where you should sign. Meanwhile, Jeonghan settled into a nearby couch, picking up a magazine and pretending to be engrossed in it.

Jeonghan couldn't help but notice Victor attempting to act cool about it, and, true to his petty nature at times, he decided that if two could play this game, he'd certainly be up for the challenge. For the next six minutes, while Victor stood next to you, his peripheral attention was continuously drawn to Jeonghan, feeling the weight of his stare.

...

Two days after the encounter at your office, Jeonghan found himself in a pub with his friends, passionately discussing the decline of the social sciences. They delved into the structure of society, which seemed to be transforming into a conformist matrix that stifled critical thinking and suppressed diverse voices.

Victor happened to enter the same pub with his coworker, and he immediately spotted Jeonghan. The conversation around the table focused on whether criticizing problems would lead to solutions.

Victor quipped, "What can be done? Your criticism doesn't always result in a solution."

Jeonghan, who was ardently immersed in the debate, responded, "Sometimes the journey toward finding an answer is more liberating than the answer itself."

Victor, his eyes locked with Jeonghan's, engaged in a silent battle of wits and wills, momentarily oblivious to their surroundings. Jeonghan's coworker interrupted their silent exchange by clearing his throat, prompting Jeonghan to break his gaze.

When Jeonghan's coworker noticed another person entering the pub, he excitedly exclaimed, "Oh, he's here!"

Both Jeonghan and Victor turned their attention to see an average-looking but seemingly confident guy, often referred to as a "chad" among their friends, entering the establishment.

"This is the guy I was telling you about," the coworker said to Jeonghan. "Come on, I'll introduce you to him."

Jeonghan hesitated and replied with unease, "Robert, I told you I don't want to meet new people just yet."

Undeterred, his coworker insisted, "Oh, come on, Yoon. A simple 'hello' won't hurt. It's not like I told you to marry him."

He attempted to pull Jeonghan from his chair to introduce him to the newcomer. However, just as Jeonghan was about to be dragged away, someone firmly grasped his other wrist. It was Victor, his gravelly voice and authoritative gaze stopping the coworker in his tracks.“He said no, didn’t he?”

Jeonghan's heart quickened, and he felt a tingle in his stomach. He couldn't help but be captivated by Victor's protective response, and from that moment on, the rest became history. Dating Jeonghan was no easy task, but for Victor, every moment spent with him was worth the effort.

In college, Victor's boyfriend, a literature major, once read out a verse by Charles Bukowski: "When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?"

Turning to Victor, his boyfriend had asked, "What do you think, Vic? Is it freedom or loneliness?"

Victor, who had grown up in an immigrant household where his parents and four siblings had always been busy, striving for a better life, and chasing opportunities, answered confidently, "Freedom."

Then why is it now when he walks into his house, in the same streets where he used to deliver newspapers in so he could afford some pocket money for his bus card, as he walked into his house, closing the door of his Audi and opening the door to their home, where Jeonghan's absence was strongly felt because he was away attending a conference, Victor couldn't help but feel that this moment was closer to "loneliness."

After taking a shower, Victor entered the kitchen, planning to open the fridge. However, he noticed a post-it note that read, "Warm up the lasagna and don't forget to take out the trash. P.S., don't eat my muffin."

And that's when Victor had an epiphany. … It had been three days since your wedding, and you had flown down to Switzerland with Victor. As he drove both of you to the office, you were fiddling with your engagement ring and staring out at the passing scenery.

Victor broke the silence, saying, "It's a pretty ring."

You snapped out of your reverie and looked at him, slightly confused. "The ring," he clarified, nodding toward your hand. "It's pretty."

"Ah, thanks. It belonged to my husband's grandmother," you replied.

"Heirloom, eh?"

"Yes," you confirmed with a somewhat awkward laugh.

"So, how are things between you and JJ?" Victor asked.

"Good, as good as they could get," Victor responded with a chuckle.

"Good is nice," you hummed.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Victor said, changing lanes. "I'm going to propose to Jeonghan."

You looked at him with surprise, your eyes gleaming. "And you want my blessing for it?" you teased.

"Since you and Noel are the closest thing Jeonghan has here to family, you could say that. I mean, you did play a pivotal part in our meeting," Victor explained.

"My, my, Victor, I'm flattered. Who knew you had a heart under all that muscle?" you joked, dramatically touching your chest.

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Can you pretend you don't know for a bit? You know how Jeonghan gets when-"

"He's kept out of the loop," you finished the thought with a chuckle.

You both shared a laugh. "What about his parents?" you asked.

"Well, the last time I talked to his mother, she seemed happy," Victor said.

"And what about his father?"

Victor sighed and gave you a sad smile. "Well, that's a conversation best served with drinks."

"Have you guys talked about it?" you asked.

Victor nodded. "Yes, we've discussed it. He has his whole plan ready. But don't you think everybody deserves a proposal?"

You pondered his words for a moment, gazing out the window. With a small smile playing on your lips as you fiddled with your ring, you whispered, "Yes, everybody deserves a proposal." … It had been two weeks since Noel and you left, and there were moments when Jeonghan would start yelling for "El" to come down for something before he'd stop mid-sentence, remembering that you had left. Even though you'd been Facetiming regularly, adjusting to the old routine without you as a constant presence in his life was difficult. However, the joy Noel brought to both yours and Jeonghan's lives was undeniable, serving as a living reminder of the people you both held dear.

Victor had asked Leila to arrange a basket and took Jeonghan on a day trip to Lake Lungern. During the two-hour drive, Jeonghan's antsiness grew as he repeatedly asked, "Are we there yet?" Victor's patience was wearing thin.

As they approached their destination, Jeonghan's anticipation grew. "Oh, my Vicky, you didn't!" he exclaimed as he took in the stunning view. This place held sentimental value as it was where Jeonghan had taken them for their first date before it became a hotspot.

Victor was driving and couldn't drink, but he wouldn't have minded a glass of wine to calm his nerves. His heart raced, and he had cold sweats accumulating on the back of his neck. He finally brought out a blanket and a picnic basket.

Jeonghan commented, "Ah, ever since I came back from the post-doctoral program, I haven't had time to catch a break. Thank you, Vicky."

"Anything for you, Dr. Yoon," Victor replied.

"Please don't call me that in public," Jeonghan joked.

They laughed together, and Victor felt the love in the air as he looked at Jeonghan with adoration in his eyes.

After a moment, Victor cleared his throat. "Jeonghan, we need to talk."

Jeonghan's heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. "Do you ever wonder where we'd be if we hadn't met at Y/N's office nine years ago?"

Jeonghan looked at Victor, then at his fingers, and shook his head. "No, not really. You?"

Victor stood up and walked towards the lake, surrounded by flowers. Jeonghan followed closely, waiting for his answer. Victor took a deep breath and began, "I've never felt the need to wonder, and even imagining a life without you terrifies me."

He turned to face Jeonghan and extended his hand. Jeonghan placed his hand in Victor's, listening intently.

Victor continued, "Yoon Jeonghan, meeting you made me realize what living feels like. You breathe life into my soul. My mother used to say that there are no accidents in life. Even the rustling of the leaves due to the wind is written in the stars before the seed of that tree came to exist. I used to think it was absurd, but now when I look at you, I thank the stars for aligning our fates. I want all your mornings and nights. I want the privilege of growing old with you. I want your rants and all your moods."

Jeonghan interjected, "I'll become more critical of some of your choices."

Victor chuckled and said, "Jeonghan, I will love you even if you become the next Karl Marx."

Jeonghan laughed, "No, thank you."

Victor continued, "You do what your heart desires, and I'll be rich for the both of us."

With those words, Victor took a platinum ring from his pocket and asked, "Dr. Yoon Jeonghan, will you marry me?"

Jeonghan's tears welled up, and he was overwhelmed by emotions. He'd rarely cried in the past, but watching the love of his life profess his love and commitment to him brought forth an unstoppable flow of tears.

He managed to joke through his tears, "Do we really need to involve the government in our relationship?"

Victor, with tears in his eyes, slipped the ring onto Jeonghan's finger. They shared a tight hug, foreheads touching, lost in their bubble of love as the sun set and made way for a new beginning.

Jeonghan admitted, "When you said we needed to talk, I thought you wanted to break up with me."

Victor replied, "I would question why you'd even think that, but right now, I just want to kiss you."

And so, as the sun set in the background, they kissed, sealing their love and commitment to one another.

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

A/N: Phew this took me FOUR days to write. I want to thank everyone who showed support and reminded me that just because something does not have a lot of admirers does not mean it is not worthy of love, time and effort. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and meet you all with the next one.

xxx

MSH.

#Spotify #aquamarine #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen imagines #seventeen kpop #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo fic #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo seventeen #seventeen arrange marriage au #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #svt x reader #svt smut

[piratefalls]

it's been a week and it's only tuesday. my brain is so tired i almost uploaded a snapshot of my dog's vet records. here's the greatest hits of everything i've read in the last week. (mind the tags on a few!)

masterlist

might blow up in your pretty face by crybabie

“I see you liked my gift,” Alex’s voice was light, but lower than Henry had ever heard it. His belly swooped at the sound. And then the words caught up with him. “Gift?” He felt the color drain from his face and frantically reopened Snapchat to confirm his worst fucking nightmare: his most recent outgoing messages had been sent to Alex, and all of them had been opened already. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you,” Alex told him, still teasing, but he sounded muffled through the ringing in Henry’s ears. “I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to even acknowledge them, let alone send pictures. They look good on you.” - or, the next box was indeed full of thongs :)

When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse

Following the latest string of disastrous first dates with beautiful women to whom he’s decidedly unattracted, and with yet another circular argument with Philip about duty still ringing in his ears, Henry’s summarily fled to the countryside. Here at least, he reasons, there’s no pressure to woo the locals. (A modern fairy tale AU.)

A thousand dreams that would awake me by @kiwiana-writes

“It’s not about punishment.” Alex just nods; Henry had been very clear on the form that he wasn’t looking to be dominated or put in his place, so that won’t be new information. “And it’s not the pain as such.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the mug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like to feel it, but I’m not looking for pain for the sake of pain. It’s more about… control, I think.” There’s a long silence. “Taking it?” Alex prompts finally. “Or giving it up?” “Does it sound ridiculous if I say both?” Or, Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.

Foreign Bodies by clottedcreamfudge

“We both know it's not a doctor you need,” Henry says, sharp and beautiful, hands hovering just in front of him like he wants to touch Alex, but knows exactly how it would be received; like he knows Alex would burst into fucking flames at the first brush of his fingertips. Three hours ago, Alex had been quite happy to live without being burned. Now, he thinks he'd pay for the privilege.

Well It Ain't Missionary by everwitch

Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass. Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned. Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must. Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.

all my time is yours to spend by smc_27

Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much. He should investigate.

i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.” “Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.” “Yes, well, the previous occupant—” “Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room. Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard

how do you want me? by rizcriz

“Christ,” Henry curses quietly, lowering the camera. “You’re beautiful.” Kneeling on the bed, his ankles crossed behind him, a hand tucked into his briefs, the other carefully weaved through his hair, is Bea’s friend Alex. The light sits on his skin, a delicate shadow of eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and when Henry speaks, he opens his eyes and looks at him from beneath those eyelashes, a careful smirk slipping over his lips. He doesn’t move from the pose, though, as he says, “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” - Or Henry’s in over his head.

The Next Draft by graceofgrayskull

“This is so unfair,” Alex says, still eyeing Henry. “What?” June asks. “That Henry Fox is talented, successful, and also mind-numbingly good-looking?” says Nora. Alex nods. “Exactly. Like my perfect nemesis. He’s coming for my brand.” -- Alex has read Henry Fox's debut approximately three times in the past three months. The novel, featuring a wary protagonist coming to terms with his sexuality, is garnering Fox critical acclaim. And maybe Alex is a little jealous — his own novel generated a surprising amount of success last year after going viral online, but it just wasn't cut out for the type of buzz Fox was receiving. So Alex jumps at the chance to meet Henry at a book signing, despite knowing very little about the man himself. What starts as a bad first impression quickly leads to fast friendship, many Instagram DMs, and a whole lot of mutual pining.

Shoot Your Shot by RoseHarperMaxwell

Jimmy raises his eyebrows in anticipation. “First celebrity crush?” As usual, Alex’s mouth is moving before his mind can catch up. “Oh,” he gestures, like this is both obvious and the easiest question he’s ever been asked. “Prince Henry.”

No Laughing Matter by inexplicablymine

Ellen is leaning over him, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfectly coiffed updo. He had never managed to understand why exactly she was always dressed so impeccably in her scrubs as a dentist. But she seemed almost presidential, even with the eyeglasses that had magnifying glasses sticking out of them making her look a little like some kind of bug. She only needs a quick look before she is snapping her gloves against her wrists pulling away. “Wisdom teeth come in and then they come out,” she says, and then as an afterthought tack on, “just like you.” Or, who said a meet cute couldn't happen while getting your Wisdom Teeth out?

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites

Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!

i'll bet it all on me and you, i'll bet it all you're bulletproof by anincompletelist

“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common sense skills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.

in an emergency by metacrisis

Alex gets in his own head about a meme Henry liked and decides to take matters, quite literally, into his own hands. OR, Alex gets a sex toy and other nonsense.

(Valen)Tie Me Up by happinessofthepursuit

“Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond. Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift… “Which one?” Alex asks. “I think that’ll immediately be clear.” Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.

More Amour by surveycorpsjean

Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

Confidential Memorandum by sherryvalli

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?" "Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?" Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult. It was a little girl. "Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?" "Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter." Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

in bloom by stutteringpeach

Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.

don't want you like a best friend by @priincebutt

The thing about marrying your best friend who you also happen to have a very secret crush on, is that you don’t take into account how much it will hurt. When they’re around his family and Alex holds his hand so easily, like it’s second nature, it makes Henry’s heart skip a beat, but when they return back to his apartment the distance is deafening. Alex purposefully sits at the opposite end of the couch, and Alex sleeps in the guest bedroom, and Alex calls him ‘man’ like two bros who definitely aren’t in love with each other. So he pines, and he’s heartbroken already, because he knows how much this is going to shatter him when it’s over. Because Alex is integrating into his life like it’s nothing, like it’s easy and this could be their new normal, and that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous. Or, Alex and Henry get married, conveniently.

everyone adores you (at least i do) by matherine

Rain is coming down in sheets against the stained glass windows of the brownstone when the door swings open, ushering in the howl of the wind and the man Henry loves more than anything in the world. “Why didn’t you use your colonizer blood money to buy a place closer to the train station?” Alex calls from the doorway. Henry hears the familiar rhythm of the lock tumblers turning and Alex’s copy of the key to the brownstone clinking against Henry’s signet ring and the key to the Austin house on his chest, only vaguely muffled by the rain. “It’s miserable out there.” Or: Alex comes into the brownstone in the midst of a rainstorm, and Henry realizes he never wants him to leave.

know how to cover up a scene by HypnosTheory

“That’s how Alvie kisses Harry,” Alex says, squeezing Henry’s wrist. Henry’s eyes dart down to the slight red mark on Alex’s cheek. He hit Alex the last time they were together. Henry didn’t get to watch the bruise form then with Alex between his legs. “That’s why Harry wanders, but he always comes back.” Henry draws in a shaky breath. “Alvie’s a lucky man.” Alex’s eyes drop to Henry’s neck, where the diamond of his pendant hangs amid the forming marks Alex left behind. “Sure is." __ Henry Fox, needing an extraction, must rely on his part-time rival, full-time problem Alex Claremont-Diaz. To get that extraction, Henry needs to pose as Alex's date for a high-stakes dinner. They get in character - and stay that way behind closed doors.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, and i'll see you next week!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

#RWRB rec list #rwrb #RWRB fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #RWRB fanfiction #alexhenry #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

[nolanfa-fanart]

Funny batfam gen (non-romantic) recs

last rec list was not exactly happy fics, so to offset it, have funny ones:

Gen fic recs for @genuaryficrecs! Fandom: DC, batfam. Focus: Humour (most some also tear your heart out or engage in subtle character building, but you'll laugh while you cry) Humour is very widespread in fic (…in some fandoms at least), ranging from humour woven in the writing style itself, to situational absurd (crack), to making the reader laugh about absolutely horrifying shit (while still acknowledging how awful it is; which is something I feel I've only ever read in fic), to absolutely unhinged character reactions (to more I don't have in mind right now), so here, a small homage to that.

The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal with Bruce Wayne, by @theskeptileptic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51476074) Chapters 6/6, 25.522 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne

Type of gen relationship: uh. Concerned Adult to Kid? Parental-ish? Or just neighbours, depending on who you ask.

Official summary: Tim is an independent, clever, and super mature eleven-year-old. Unfortunately, his dopey neighbor, Bruce, can’t seem to understand that. When he decides to disappear on a “solo camping trip” and run away to Canada, he figures it’s the perfect plan that will make everybody happy. He didn’t expect the Waynes would tag along with him and ruin everything. A six-chaptered tale filled with identity shenanigans, s’mores, soon-to-be-brothers, and a kid who is in desperate need of a new family.

Why I love it: This is. Hilarious. The perfect mix of very competent Tim and him still very much being an 11-years-old. Himbo Bruce Wayne who just so happens to totally accidentally run into Tim several times to innocently inquire about his parents' whereabouts. The horrifying fact of what Tim is actually doing and how he thinks, in his very logical way (and the horrifying fact that his parents agree with him).

Excerpts: from: [email protected] to: [email protected] Mr. Wayne, Timothy told me you stopped by earlier today. I am sorry I didn’t get to talk with you. My thyroid was acting up and I was sleeping. Timothy is a good kid. I can make sure he’s safe skateboarding so there is no need to worry. Have a good day! Sincerely, The Nanny

from: [email protected] to: [email protected] The Nanny, Thank you for your email last week. Timothy is most definitely a good kid. One of the best. I saw him at the Army Supply Store this afternoon and he mentioned you would be taking him to Cheesequake State Park to meet a friend this weekend? My boys and I are heading that way, so why don’t we save you a trip. We’ll make sure Timothy is taken care of. If you need anything at all, for any reason, please call me at this number: 9088780078. This is my cell phone and I answer it at all hours, no matter what. Nothing is too small or too much of a bother to pick up for. Anything that you need, Timothy’s Nanny, please call. Sincerely, Bruce Wayne - “Anyway, I was on my way to the course, and I realized your father and I haven’t gotten a chance to really ‘hang’, as you kids say, and I had a late tee time, so I thought I’d invite him along.” Mr. Wayne’s teeth were bright and Tim wondered if he used some sort of diamond paste on them. He looked around Tim’s shoulder, as if he wanted to see inside the mansion better. Tim hadn’t turned on any of the lights on account of his shitty night, so the early fall haze that Bristol was so well known for didn’t do much for his visibility. “I’m sorry, sir, you just missed him.” A pause. “Well, that’s ok, son. Why don’t you get your mom and I’ll give her a message? I’m sure you’ve got things to do.” He looked at Tim vapidly, smile still firmly in place. “I’m afraid she’s not here right now either. Shopping.” Tim gritted his teeth and went to close the door. Mr. Wayne’s huge ham hands (why were they so large?) stopped it before it slammed. He chuckled and Tim winced. “Your nanny, then.” Tim wasn’t sure, but thought the question sounded more strained than Mr. Wayne’s usual flavor of airheadedness. “She’s sleeping.” “At eleven in the morning?” “She has a thyroid problem. I’ll let them all know you stopped by.” Tim pushed the door closed but Mr. Wayne had somehow entered his foyer while he was speaking. “I’ll write them a note. They can call me when they get back.” He inched closer towards Tim, who sidestepped him before he could ruffle his hair.

--

Ain't No Compass, Ain't No Map, by @ebjameston (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38048365) Chapters: 9/9, 51.863 words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Type of gen relationship: siblings and friends

Official summary: CPS Agent, pointing at Tim Drake: We need to take him with us Red Hood: He's fine where he is CPS: He's a minor Hood: Timbo, you a minor? Tim: Can't prove it CPS: I mean, I can. There are records – Tim, who has just finishing hacking CPS to remove his own file: Oh really, tell me more about these records +++ A CPS agent gets sent to investigate a tip that Tim Drake has been abandoned by his parents and is living with the Red Hood. The CPS agent leaves with no Tim Drake, a date with Red Hood's lieutenant, and an intern who's promising to fix the IT systems at his office. It's a weird day for Theo.

Why I love it: This is probably the first (non-crossover) DC fic I read, and to date still one of my favorites. It's. Listen. It's from the point of view of a Child Protective Services agent. Who, given his whole deal is to Protect Children, has Opinions about the Robins. And interacts - unknowingly - with them when they're grown (identity porn! Banter!). And he likes them! And they like him! But they have… differing opinions. And I absolutely love it. So. Many. Feels. And humour. It's 80% jokes and 70% feels and 50% social commentary about the canon and 20% plot and 40% fluff and 30% angst and some parts are all of that at once.

Excerpt: “Nightwing, wait, serious question,” Theo says. “About when you were baby Robin.” Max’s fingers tense up a bit on Theo’s elbow, and some of the earlier tension creeps back into Nightwing’s frame. “Yes?” “Did the Batmobile have a car seat?” “Did the what have a what ,” Nightwing says. “I’ve seen your stats from when you were just getting started,” Theo says. “You weren’t anywhere close to 4-foot-9. You would’ve needed a booster seat for at least the first two years you were Robin, so.” “So, did the Batmobile have a carseat,” Nightwing repeats faintly. Theo gets out his phone to take notes. “Yes. That is what I am asking.” “Buddy,” Hood says. “Most of the Batmobiles don’t even have seatbelts.” “How would you even know that?” Bernard asks.

--

IRIS Log #1548, by @deadchannelradio (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51647209) Chapters: 1/1, 8531 Words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: whole batfam

Type of gen relationship: familial

Official summary: A Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle: The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. - (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin- (01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood- (01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious. (01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route- (01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up. (01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

Why I love it: The format (transcription of comms) is fun. Also it's. Just. Really funny? The… energy of it? I mean just read the excerpts honestly.

Excerpt: (01:34) Nightwing: Don’t get mad, Red. He’s got a concussion. (01:34) Red Hood: (Agreeably) I am all bonked up. (Laughter: Nightwing) Hey. Cass. Cassie. Is my leg fucked. The right one. (01:34) Blackbat: It. (Pause, 3 seconds) (Reading) I am not your medical provider and can’t diagnose injuries or illness. Please ask your doctor when you are under their care. (01:34) Red Hood: Oh. Um, okay. Can you tell me as buddies? Not as my doctor. (Laughter: Spoiler, Red Robin) Just as buddies. (01:35) Blackbat: …Super busted. Bad. As buddies. (01:35) Batman: Blackbat. We are not medical- (01:35) Red Hood: She said as buddies. It’s fine. (01:35) Spoiler: (Laughing) The as buddies legal loophole.

--

Bang, bang, by Ididloveyou_once (@ididloveyou) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30246978) Chapters: 1/1, 5.563 words T, Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (an accidental gunshot wound played for laughs)

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd

Type of gen relationship: very much Siblings

Official summary: ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’ Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then- ‘Don’t tell Bruce.’Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.

Why I love it: Hmmm okay so maybe I really like a good Jason & Tim relationship. But objectively. This is great. Peak siblings relationships. The threat of Getting In Trouble forcing an emergency alliance between two mutually annoyed siblings who scramble to hide something? Peak comedy.

Excerpt: ‘Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that either,’ he pinched the bridge of his nose, ‘I just mean. Don’t worry about me being in pain. I’m fine. And don’t worry about looking like an asshole. You shot me, you already look like an asshole. But that’s fine because now we’re even.’ Jason sighed at the kid’s sour expression. So his words of reassurance needed some work, sue him.

--

Into the Brighter Night, by @shoalsea (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935463) Chapters: 12/12, 162,894 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Tim Drake, whole batfam, Young Justice team

Type of gen relationship: familial and friends

Official summary: When an unknown enemy threatens Robin, Gotham's vigilantes come together to keep him safe. Unfortunately, they're protecting the wrong Robin. Or: Tim Drake plans his own rescue. Things get complicated.

Why I love it: Oooooh not just batfam this time. Tim is way too competent, and the Young Justice have his back (and a lot of resentment towards the batfam). Hyperactive Young Justice energy, Very Good Characterization, miscommunication (as in Bruce -the whole batfam really- is trying but they're super bad at clearly expressing feelings). And the tone of it? The writing? Hilarious and rips your heart out. This is super interesting interconnected character dynamics (with the batfam and Tim's team that's so many more different relationships than usual) and a deep look at canon events, all of it wrapped in hilarious dialogue. One of my fave Tim-centric fics, and I've read some very good ones.

Excerpt: [Impulse on a long distance call with the batfam - minus Tim] Jay makes a disbelieving sound. “You’re telling me that Red Robin—Mr. Responsibility himself—helped you hide and maintain a secret spaceship for years? Seriously?” “Uh, yeah? Duh?” “No offense,” Duke says, “but that doesn’t really sound like the guy we know.” Bruce sighs. Stephanie huffs out a laugh. Impulse just looks unimpressed. “Are we talking about the same person? Robin numero tres, currently Red? The same guy who once hid an extra Batmobile in the batarang budget and shipped it to California in secret? The same guy who founded Young Justice, an unauthorized vigilante group of teens that started out with no adult supervision? And lied to the Justice League and the government to keep Secret safe?” “Secret?” Duke says at the same time Jay sputters out, “He stole a whole Batmobile?” “More like embezzled,” Impulse says. “But yeah, dude, it’s Rob. I know he gives off the straight-and-narrow vibe, like, 90% of the time he’s interacting with the public or authority figures, but that’s mostly because it’s way, waaaay easier to get away with stuff if you don't ‘openly project an air of defiance.’” “Oh my god,” Stephanie says. “He’s given you that speech too?” “He’s given us multiple versions of that speech,” Impulse says. Stephanie’s turned away from the screen now and is explaining to Duke, “Red Robin is kind of the definition of ‘I do what I want,’ but most of the time what he wants to do is at least nominally reasonable or responsible, so no one cares.” “And when somebody does care,” Impulse says, “you just gotta be sneaky and smart. Comply until their backs are turned, you know? I mean, even with the Titans we—what?” he pauses, spinning his chair, clearly distracted by something off-screen. “No, I’m just talking to the Bats. I think there’s a whole flock of them.” Conner Kent wanders into view, towelling off his hair and wearing what looks like some kind of maintenance jumper. “‘Sup,” he says to the camera, leaning in. “Superman’s not there, is he?” “Nope,” Impulse says. “Thank god. Where’s Rob?” “Batnap.” Conner puts his hands on his hips. “Dude. Weren’t you supposed to wake him up?” Impulse spins in his chair again. “Wonder Girl said not to.” “What, and he agreed?” “No. He might have been unconscious at the time. Which, technically, means Wonder Girl is in charge.” Conner groans. “He’s gonna kill you.” Turning to the camera, he adds, “Look, sorry about this, I’ll go get him.” “Heynowaitaminute,” Impulse says. “Listen. I’m the captain, you gotta at least hear me out!” Conner rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move. “Everything is still going according to plan, okay? Rob did in fact say that we should one hundred percent wake him up as soon as we could get a call through. True. But Wonder Girl said to let him sleep. And he definitely needs it.” “Yeah, but, again, he’s gonna be pissed if—” “Listen. I have thought this through.” When Conner just looks skeptical, he adds, “I have! I worked it out logically. See, if we wake up Rob, Wondy’s gonna be pissed off. At us. Right now. If we don’t wake him up, he’s gonna be pissed off later and he’s gonna be mad at her, not us. Therefore, we should do what Wonder Girl says.”

--

Beef Consommé, by @vamillepudding (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42348438) Chapters: 2/2; 14.230 words T, Chose Not To Use Warnings

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Type of gen relationship: siblings

Official summary: Parenting is Bruce's thing, and Jason isn't planning on messing with that. But when Bruce fails to spot the countless red flags about Tim's home life, it falls to Jason to step up. Of course it does. Because he's literally the only one in his family who knows how to be responsible, and if Dick disagrees, he can suck it.

Why I love it: I have a weakness for the "Dick and Jason team up and adopt Tim" trope. Also, I love Jason's voice in it. (and this fic is very funny but I feel like I'm repeating myself)

Excerpts: “Pizza?” Tim repeats, sounding hopeful. Jason is on the verge of telling him to go screw himself, but then he starts wondering how long Tim has been in his apartment and whether he ate dinner before he came here. Probably not. Did he eat lunch? Should Jason ask? What would Dick do? “Fine,” he says eventually. “But I’m picking the toppings, and you can’t have dessert.” There’s a beat. “I didn’t want dessert,” Tim says, voice taking on a bewildered edge. “What are you talking about?” - It’s Wednesday evening and Jason is getting pizza. Dick’s waiting back in Jason’s apartment, because growing up with Bruce has him used to getting waited on hand and foot, and apparently he thinks Jason is his own personal servant or something. It’s oppression, is what it is. “It’s not oppression,” Dick yells after him just before Jason closes the door, “it’s called losing a coin toss, asshole!”

--

Birds on Jaybird Street, by @cynassa (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39115587) Chapters: 4/4, 14.717 words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Type of gen relationship: Siblings

Official summary: Jason is both annoyed and weirdly flattered when the replacement turns up to ask him for help. He mentally rearranges his calendar so he can be free Wednesday evening and says, “No, fuck off, I have very important business going on.” Tim eyes his 72” TV playing Japanese wrestling more judgmentally than it really deserves. “Important crime things,” Jason emphasizes. “Make Wingdick do it.” Jason doesn't think much of it when Tim needs his help, or Damian moves in, or even when Dick turns up looking beat all to hell. But at some point he realizes that he might be the best option his brothers have to recover from the cycle of violence that Batman has set up, and all he can think is that things were much easier when he was the villain.

Why I love it: In which Dick and Jason decide to adopt Tim and Damian (Jason's kind of an asshole, but a caring one). Kind of the same reason as the previous one: love that trope, love the tone, very funny.

Excerpt: Jason lies, "Sure, I'll take it up with Bruce " "Sure you will, " Tim scoffs. Jason changes his mind, and decides he will take it up with Bruce. "I don't have the time to keep being your nanny," he announces and then says, disapprovingly, "you skateboard, why don't you have knee and elbow pads?" "I'm Robin," Tim snaps, like he didn't put pants on the costume like a little wuss.

#fic recs #fic rec #dc #batfam #batman #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Nightwing #Red Hood #Red Robin #Young Justice #cynassa #vamillepudding #shoalsea #ebjameston #deadchannelradio #theskeptileptic #gen fic recs #genuary fic rec fest #genuaryficrecs #ididloveyou_once #ididloveyou

[silli---lilli]

The Cloud You're Under

Simon had sat on the thought for days. Weeks, maybe. It was time to send Johnny home.

Simon loved him, wanted him close, felt incredibly lucky for meeting him, but that luck was running out. And he’d sworn from the moment they met to protect him. Do what’s best for him. That’s why it had to end, quietly, here in their own environment and not in the chaos that was coming.

Simon had been alone his whole life, every time the darkness came and swept him up, he’d handled it. In fact, he’d learned to simply roll over and float along the crashing waves until it ended. He’d learned to keep himself alive and close his eyes through the rest. Protecting Johnny was keeping him out of that.

“I think this is over.”

Johnny had been on his phone, a usual quiet evening, and looked up in surprise when Simon spoke. His voice sounded rough from underuse, he hadn’t been speaking much. Johnny knew why, and he was perfectly happy to sit in silence with him, sleep in silence beside him, it didn’t matter. Their connection wasn’t in words.

But there was a disconnected finality in his voice that made Johnny sit up, frowning. “What?”

Simon cleared his throat, uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He knew this part would hurt, he expected confusion and yelling and painful words. He expected Johnny to finally let loose all of the things he hated about their little arrangement.

“I mean,” he cleared his aching throat, “this has been fun, but it’s over.” He attempted to appear cool and uncaring. Unfortunately, his eyes were visible and full of unspent emotion. “It’s time for you to go home, Johnny.”

Johnny’s initial reaction was defense and he bit it back. It wasn’t as confusing as he might expect, Simon had his highs and lows, a cadence he’d gotten used to. Part of the man he loved.

It hurt all the same.

“I am home…did I do something wrong?” He asked, hoping maybe Simon could talk himself out of it. His big blue eyes looked Simon over for any tell-tale sign of insincerity.

Simon watched him, so resolute in his decision. So sure that the light Johnny had brought into his life wouldn’t be put out by him, not if he had his way.

He stared into his light eyes, imagining again how they would look when he’d let all the stars in them blink out. He was the eternal eclipse, he couldn’t keep Johnny alive. Physically, yes, he could, but not in his spirit, his soul. He was a hurricane, it didn’t matter how bright the fire burned, he’d snuff it out.

“No, Johnny, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He finally answered, unable to lie, even then. “I just think it’s for the best.”

Johnny lowered his hands, laying his phone on the coffee table. “Best for who?”

Simon knitted his brows slightly, in genuine confusion. The answer was obvious. “Best for you, John.”

Johnny moved. He was always moving, full of energy and owning the space he was in. He stood up, his eyes till on Simon. Simon expected him the anger to come then, the yelling. He couldn’t say he knew much about breakups, but he imagined how it would end.

But Johnny didn’t yell, and he didn’t lose his temper. He looked sad, and worried, and Simon hated that more. For a split second, he wanted to change his mind, go back on his decision. But he couldn’t, he didn’t want to create a space where that was the only look on Johnny’s face.

“I don’t…” Johnny shook his head, swallowing. “I don’t want that. Shouldn’t we talk about this?”

“My mind is made up, Johnny.” Simon looked down at his hands in his lap, hiding his face.

Johnny knew. He knew where this was coming from and it gripped his heart with sharp, cold nails. Simon was afraid of what he was going to do to Johnny. Afraid of being seen and known like this, at his low point. Afraid he was too much, and not enough, and dark enough to break them both.

Simon had joined the 141 with great relief, he didn’t have to worry about his world anymore. His life. It became his life and he accepted it would also be his death. But Johnny.

Johnny was there. Johnny ruined everything.

The Sergeant moved again. This time back to the sofa. His heart ached, and half of it was outside of him, sitting and looking at his hands. That’s how Johnny knew this was something else. They hadn’t really established themselves as a couple, they just hadn’t been assed to part since they got back. It was comfortable, he liked it. He loved it.

“Is this about the cloud you’re under right now?” He asked softly. He never thought of yelling, he never thought Simon might expect it. He wasn’t angry.

“What are you talking about?” Simon didn’t look up.

“Si, I can tell you’re…down. You’ve been down.”

Simon looked up then, and closer, Johnny could see real fear in him. “It’s not a cloud, Johnny. And I can’t sit around and let it hurt you.”

Johnny moved even closer to him. “Do I look hurt?”

Simon studied him a moment. He did, but he hadn’t before this whole thing started. Simon had thought it was because he was unaware. “I’ll bring you down with me, Johnny. I can’t do that. I can’t stand to watch it.” Johnny opened his mouth, but hesitated. Simon hadn’t spoken this much in days. Weeks, maybe. “You don’t like this lifestyle, it isn’t you.”

Johnny softened slightly, the stars still in his eyes. “Well, I like you quite a lot. And this is me, Simon. Do you think I’m acting for you?”

“No, I just think you don’t realize that I’m trapping you. You used to go out so much more, you were never this quiet. I’m supposed to protect you.”

From himself. Simon thought he was protecting Johnny from himself. “I went out so much because being in a dark room alone was more than I could stand, Simon. I had nothing to be home for.” He looked at Simon’s hands still in his lap. “Can I touch you?”

The softest question, a level of respect and intimacy Simon had never experienced. Or understood. “Yes.”

Johnny reached for one of his large, scarred hands and pulled it onto his own lap. “You aren’t trapping me, you’ve given me a safe place to rest.” He slid his hand into Simon’s and held it. “I have plenty of my own darkness, Si. Plenty of things I regret, things I hide from. Do you think I’m too weak to handle yours?”

“Weak? No.” Simon had little argument for that. The point at where their skin touched made him realize his self-isolation was just that. Selfish.

“If you want space, I will give it to you, but pushing me away won’t save me, Simon. And it won’t protect me.”

“I have nothing to offer you, I should never have let it get this far.” Simon grasped at his own truth, one that was getting thinner and weaker.

“I could tell you all the things you offer, Simon. I could tell you that I have never been with someone so good, so accepting of me. Maybe I haven’t said it enough.” He shook his head. “Out here, you’re not my CO, you know that, right? You are not in charge of me. I am here of my own accord. Do you think I do many things I don’t want to do?”

Simon watched the corner of his perfect mouth turn up in a smile. He knew Johnny was right, as usual, and once again he was wrong. And he realized the ache in his chest was hope, an unfamiliar feeling. He didn’t want Johnny to leave. He wanted to believe he was worth staying for. And Johnny was right, he wasn’t his subordinate, he didn’t have to obey. He was there by choice.

“I can’t stand to watch you change. I’ll bring you down.” He felt he was begging then, asking Johnny to save himself if he couldn’t.

“Simon, I’ve been watching you sink deeper for days. Weeks, maybe. I knew where it was going, and why. And here I am. I just want to be with you, being top of your game was never a condition. You’re human. If I go down, it’s in spite of you and not because of you, alright?” He slid his hand up Simon’s forearm, pulling him closer. “Do you want me to leave? Give you some space?”

Simon contemplated, it wasn’t what he expected and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. Though Johnny had never complained, and Simon was wrong to believe it was because he was oblivious. Of course he wasn’t, he was sharp and observant and incredibly intelligent.

The realization made him feel shaky and embarrassed and needy. “No, I don’t want you to. I never did, but I swore to protect you. I…I have to protect you.”

Still fighting, as always. Johnny knew the man would never back down easily. Not even for him. “Then protect me from losing you. Protect me from having to watch you suffer from afar, protect me from wishing I could be with you, share your burden.” He dropped his voice nearly to a whisper. “Let me.”

Simon felt himself melting, pooling at his own feet. It felt out of control, but the hand on his arm grounded him. He didn’t answer, but he stopped fighting, a monumental first step, and Johnny moved close enough to sit against him, holding him up.

#call of duty #cod #mw2 #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #call of duty modern warfare #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #soapghost #fanfic #john soap mactavish #soap x ghost #ghost x soap #i will go down with this ship #if you already saw this on twitter no you didn't

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Smutty City Thots

This is based off of this comment

Thank you for getting my brain to work @clairetheflower

Be warned, fluffy spicy chatter ahead.

Halsin lay in bed at the end of the day, hair let down, next to you. He was still adjusting to the feeling of being in an actual bed with the wind wafting gently through gossamer curtains by the window. You had meandered about the room, preparing to sleep, when a thought had seized you; you sat with your legs folded beneath , brushing your hair.

“Something just occurred to me,” you began, distracted. “Most of our time together has been spent with me saving you.”

Halsin looked away from the setting sun to you, “Mm, is that how you see it.”

“Well, yeah. First, there were the goblins in the worg pen, then we met and you asked me to wipe out the three goblin leaders, which lead to the whole camp coming to an untimely end. I also saved your grove from shadow druids, then I helped save your cursed ‘kingdom’. If I didn’t know any better, this would sound a lot like an old nursery tale.” You paused, and looked mildly incredulous, “I might have seen you as the damsel in distress.”

A quiet chuckle, “If you didn’t know better, that is.” He sat up a bit straighter with a smirk.  The thin sheet tumbled further off of his chest, landing around his almost bare hips. “And what would that make you?”

“Your hero, obviously.” You caressed a strand away from his face. 

He pulled you closer by your lapel, making you sit up on your knees, “I can think of one thing that’s distressing me, at the moment,” his finger slid beneath your nightgown and grazed your inner thighs. 

Your hand shot to a place under his chin and seized the opportunity for a distraction; a well aimed tickle and suddenly, he was on the defensive. He recoiled back with a choked laugh. You jumped back up off the bed, avoiding his grasp, and walked to the only table in the room, laying your brush down.

“You know, according to the fairytales, the hero usually gets some kind of…” you waved your hand in the air, feigning to forget the necessary word. “Some kind of boon,” you began pacing to the window and drawing the shutters. You turned around to him, pretending to still be lost in thought, “Something to make the hero feel appreciated,” lowering the straps to your garment below your shoulders, “some kind of compensation,” you stood at the foot of the bed as the garment slid down off of you, “if you will.”

His chin lowered slightly as his eyes darkened, taking in the sight. He reached his hands up behind his head, stretching his arms so wide they almost matched the length of the headboard. “Ah, my savior expects payment of some kind. Unfortunately, I don’t believe l have much to give. I’m but a poor damsel, after all.” His thigh swept open beneath the thin sheet.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” you began to crawl across the bed toward him,  “I believe you’ve got plenty.”

#Fluff #halsin #tav #Durge #halsinxtav #halsin x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate #Elfsong tavern #elf song tavern #Hero #damsel in distress #Halsin smut #Halsimp #A peaceful elf

[adrift-in-thyme]

I’ve never requested anything before so I hope this is right!

I’m going with some Malink angst, I absolutely LOVEEE reading your whump fics for them so I guess… more pain please? 🥲 if that’s okay?

Tysm for the prompt @endlessartpumpkin <333 I had a lot of fun with this one. It’s very angsty hehe

I hope you enjoy it!

CW for blood and injury

——————————

Malon has always been aware of the possibility that Link would die before her. He is a hero, after all, her knight in shining armor through and through. If someone needs help — whether to reunite with a loved one or save an entire kingdom — he will never refuse them.

Sometimes, she has the selfish yearning that just once…he would.

And now, as she gazes at the heroes standing on her doorstep, as she gazes at her husband lying limp in Twilight’s arms, she wants it more than ever. Because Link, who is full of life and laughter and love, Link who has faced the moon itself and lived to tell the tale, her Link who proposed with the biggest, gaudiest ring in Hyrule because he wanted to show her how much he cared…Link the love of her life should never look like he does right now.

She steps forward, one hand held to her lips, the other reaching out to touch him.

He is so pale. His chest hardly rises, breathing so shallow it is hardly there at all. If she allowed it, she could be convinced that he is already gone.

Malon forces herself to take a deep breath. She won’t do that. She won’t imagine that her fairy boy is dead.

“What happened?” She asks, tone sharp with panic.

It is Twilight who answers, in a broken voice she has never heard him use before.

“He…he took a hit that was meant for me.”

His breath hitches. It is only slight, but Malon hears it anyway. She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks at her, there is such pain in those gray eyes, such sorrow, that it breaks her heart.

There is hardly time to comfort him, however. They both know it.

“Bring him inside,” she orders, shoving aside the emotions churning about inside her. “Set him on the bed. I’ll get some supplies.”

Twilight moves without a word. The others follow him into the house, expressions tight and pained.

A hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “I’ll get the supplies,” Warriors says. His face is a mask rapidly shattering. But he smiles, strong for her, strong for the man he calls his little brother.

“You go to him.”

Malon nods, sighing. “Thank you, dear. The medical stuff is in the bathroom. You remember where that is, don’t you?”

“Of course.” In a swirl of royal blue fabric, Warriors is gone.

Taking a moment to steel herself, Malon heads into the bedroom.

They have already laid him on the bed when she steps through the doorway. From this angle, if she didn’t know better, she would think he was merely asleep. But unfortunately, she does know better. And the ashen color of his face, the sheen of sweat upon his brow, the feverish trembling of his body tells her a different story.

Then, of course, there is the blood.

The heroes are in the process of bandaging him. (They work quickly, she thinks with a spark of pride.) But even the thick swaths of fabric that they wind around his abdomen can only do so much to halt the onslaught of crimson liquid.

It soaks them through within minutes.

Malon makes her limbs move, bringing her forward. There is no time to sit here and gaze in horror at what has become of her husband. With firm hands, she grabs a new roll of gauze and sets to work.

Between the ten of them, Link’s wound is cleaned and wrapped in little time. And through it all, Hyrule stands beside her, magic glowing at his palms, trying in vain to heal the injury. But it fights back of its own accord.

“What on earth hurt him like this?” Malon asks, voice tight. The other heroes have backed up now, giving her room to stand by her husband’s bedside. She leans over him, fingers brushing aside his limp bangs. He gives a shuddering breath and turns slightly into her touch.

“We don’t know what manner of monster it is yet,” Warriors says. “But it’s stronger than its companions, and smarter too. And…when someone gets struck by it the wound struggles to heal.”

Malon swallows. “But it does heal eventually, right?” She looks up at all of them, at their sorrowful expressions, at the way they struggle to meet her eyes. “Right?”

“It can.” It’s Twilight now, his voice gravelly from the tears he struggles to restrain. “He’s just gotta keep fighting.”

She turns back to her fairy boy. A ray of sun illuminates the side of his face, making his markings stand out starkly against his pale skin. The crimson stripes look especially fierce in the early morning light.

“He will,” she says, and it is both a demand and a plea, a promise and a prayer. “Don’t y’all worry. He will.”

….

It isn’t until that night that he awakens. The other heroes have drifted away by then, reluctant to leave, but all too aware of the suffocating nature of everyone packed into one room. Only Hyrule and Twilight remain. But both have finally caved to her urgings for them to get some much-needed rest and are slumped over the arm chairs in the corners.

So, when Link drags open his eye, she is the only one who sees it.

His gaze is bright with fever and pain, its usual sharpness dulled. But it only takes him a moment to find her.

“Malon.”

It is breathed more than spoken, hardly a hoarse whisper. He lifts a trembling hand, clumsily cupping her cheek. Gently, she threads her fingers between his.

“I’m here, hon.”

“Mal I…” His breath hitches into a wet cough. It wracks his body, violently, and sends tears sliding down his cheeks. The sound of it tears her heart in two.

“Take it easy, fairy boy.” She fetches a cloth from the side table and wipes away the blood that dribbles from his lips. “That monster did a number on you.”

Link hums. “Would’ve hurt Twilight if-if I hadn’t…”

“I know.” A small, sad smile lifts her lips. “I know.”

He sags against the pillows, breathing shallow, eye half-lidded. He is already fading again, Malon can tell. So soon, too soon.

“The boys,” he whispers, “they’re…”

“Fine. Worried sick about you though. You scared ‘em half to death.”

She shakes her head. The pain within her feels like it will cleave her chest in half.

“Why’d you use your own body to block the blow, Link? You’ve got shields and items – so many of them I can’t even keep track of ‘em all. Aren’t those there to try and make sure this-this…doesn’t happen?”

Link’s expression dulls further. He looks all of his true years now, weighed down by the duties he has long born, exhausted from a lifetime of pain.

“Knocked my shield out of my hand.” He looks up at her and something in his gaze pleads that she understand. “There wasn’t time for-for anything else.”

Malon gazes at him for a long moment.

“You’re insufferable, fairy boy,” she says, at last, a choked chuckle erupting out of her. “Why’d I have to fall in love with such a hero?”

He smiles back, though it is a weak effort.

“Because…of my unbelievably good looks.”

She laughs again and it sounds more like a sob.

“Well, I can’t pretend that that wasn’t a part of it.”

He chuckles, but it quickly dissolves into another coughing fit. She holds his hand through it, battling against the tears that beg to pour forth. And when it is over, she wipes away the blood again, and the tears. He closes his eye and leans into her touch.

“You gotta promise me somethin, fairy boy,” she murmurs, as she sets the cloth aside and rubs her thumb against his cheek instead.

Link looks up at her, something terribly vulnerable in his expression. She has only ever seen him gaze at her with such a look. It is an overwhelmingly precious thing.

“Anything,” he says and she believes him.

“You keep fighting, no matter what.” She encases his hand in two of her own, grip as desperate and firm as her words. “Don’t you give up, you hear me? Don’t you dare even think of giving up.”

Her voice cracks, but she plows on anyway. “I can’t lose you, Link.”

His lips quirk up in the slightest of smiles. When he squeezes her hand, it is a feeble movement, but it is there nonetheless, a confirmation that he has heard her.

“I won’t,” he breathes. “Promise.”

The tears come now, cascading down her cheeks in traitorous rivulets. She brushes them away. Then, leaning down, she plants a gentle kiss on Link’s brow.

“Good.”

His eye flutters closed. “Love you, Mal,” he murmurs, voice so soft and quiet she has to strain to catch the words.

But she does. She catches them like the flitting butterflies she used to capture between two careful hands when she was a girl. And she holds them close to her heart.

“I love you too, fairy boy.”

#I kinda based this off a fic I wrote for febuwhump #where time creates a time loop to save twilight from getting smacked by the shadow #and in the end only manages it by putting himself between the sword and twi #so this could be a follow up to that #trin writes #lu time #lu malon #lu chain #lu malink #whump #angst #hurt/comfort #linked universe #linked universe fic #follower celebration #endlessartpumpkin my beloved

[gainingfiction]

Who is the hottest guy you have seen out and about recently?

Great question! Unfortunately I live in a small, somewhat rural town, and the selection of hot guys is not ideal. So I’ve been sitting on this ask for a while.

Turns out, my patience was fated. I just saw the very first guy I ever had a crush on. Like, one of those major, embarrassing boyhood crushes. It’s a tale as old as time; the nerdy, closeted gay boy fawning over the straight, popular jock. Nothing ever came of it, of course, and I moved on. It’s been years since I’ve seen him and I haven’t given him much thought. But guess what—he’s gained weight. Ex-jock indeed.

I was doing some (very) last-minute Christmas shopping at the liquor store, when a familiar (but somewhat rounder) face caught my eye. He’d always had a cute, handsome face, but it looked even cuter now, softened as it was. I mean, he has dimples! He was dressed casually, and his wavy dark hair was a bit tousled and shaggy. He was wearing grey sweatpants (God is good) and a baggy purple hoodie, but it was the sort of baggy that accentuated rather than disguised his new, rotund belly. And from behind, his puffy winter coat did nothing to minimize his obvious love handles.

He played on our high school basketball team back in the day, and had always been athletic when I knew him, but I expect he fell into a trap that entangles many men in their mid-20s (i.e., getting a little chubby). I'm useless at guessing weights, but if you forced me to speculate, I'd say he's up about 40-50 pounds from his fighting weight. And he's not particularly tall. Considering his wardrobe, I can’t help but think of Mean Girls (2004): “sweatpants are all that fits me right now.” Wishful thinking, maybe.

I don’t know if he’s the hottest guy I’ve seen out and about recently, but you never forget your first crush… I hope he has a great Christmas, and gets plenty to eat while he’s home for the holidays.

#asks #not fiction #weight gain #glad he didn’t catch me staring #I feel a little sketchy writing a lengthy description of a real person #but hey it’s better than creepy stealth pics you see floating around right? #gay #genuinely grey sweatpants are a gift to humanity and every man who wears them should be nominated for a nobel peace prize #i love answering asks so keep them coming!