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too-deviant · 2 months

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The three weeks it took for Luke Castellan’s wounds to heal.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Summary: Luke comes back from his quest defeated and angry, and refuses to let anyone see him. But he still needs tending to. You are the lucky sucker who gets to do so.

Content: post-quest angsty luke, reader is awkward, i use the word under’t at one point because i think im shakespeare or some shit

Word Count: 7.6k

Notes: Pushing the agenda that lukes scar is gnarrly like it’s nasty !! not just some faint lil line. the boy was attacked by an actual dragon, like pls. also this hasn’t been proofread so sorry if it doesn’t make sense

part two

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The spring that Luke Castellan spent on his quest was a strange one for the residents of Camp Half-Blood.

For years, campers knew who to go to whenever they needed advice. When they needed help. They knew who to direct the new campers to when they stumbled over the boundary line — and knew they were in good hands. Luke’s hands. He was the big brother the whole camp needed, and not just because he was older than most of them. He just had that aura — and he was undoubtedly kind to everyone he came across. Not to mention the guy was insane with a sword, and had this boyish charm that anyone would fall for. Most campers, if not all of them, looked up to Luke Castellan.

So when he left, nobody knew what to do.

It was pretty tame at first, mostly just awkward. Especially in the Hermes cabin, with Chris Rodriguez in charge in his brother's absence. A Hephaestus kid had taken over the sword fighting classes Luke usually ran, which proved to do more harm than good because he wasn’t all that great at using a sword than he was at forging them, and most of Luke’s students were already better than him.

But nothing went wrong — at least for the first week.

But after the initial awkwardness wore off, chaos ensued.

Chris couldn’t keep the Hermes kids in check — once they realised he wasn’t as authoritative as Luke, they began to use it to their advantage. Everyone got pranked, the camp store was raided three times before Chiron decided to close it down for the meantime and dishwashing duty every night was not slowing them down.

You hadn’t realised just how much the camp relied on Luke until he wasn’t there to keep things under control. Fights broke out with nobody to step in between them, and more and more kids were showing up to the infirmary with injuries that they could take care of themselves — something Luke would’ve told them to do instead of bothering you and your siblings. It was actually unbelievable how much a group of about a hundred half-gods relied on the steady hand of one seventeen year old boy.

You couldn’t wait until he got back so you could finally get some peace and quiet.

Luke didn’t return to camp for two and a half weeks, and as the days went by, campers began to get uneasy. Nobody knew what his quest had entailed, or where he had to go, so the longer they went without news the more antsy people got. You didn’t speak to Luke much — maybe a few shared sentences to be polite — but you knew what he was capable of. You tried your best to reassure the campers, as did your brother Lee and the rest of the Cabin Counsellors.

You knew Luke would come back. You knew he would stumble down that hill with his head held high and meet the group of campers waiting for him at the bottom. You knew there would be a celebration, a party, and a lot of kids out past curfew. But you knew Chiron would let it off, because Luke Castellan was back.

Except that’s not what happened. At all.

It was a warm day, and you were helping some of your younger siblings make friendship bracelets by the lake. Your camp shirt clung to the sweat on your back and you peeled it off with a grimace whenever you stood, straightening out your shorts and checking on the next kid. They seemed happy enough to be in the sun — really, you should’ve been too. Child of Apollo and all. But apparently your father wasn’t feeling the love for you today, because while the rest of your siblings were thriving, you were seconds away from jumping into the lake just to cool down — even if it pissed off the Naiads.

Thankfully, when you stood up once more and looked over the horizon, you saw your brother Aden jogging towards you. You took the opportunity to hide under the shade of the trees by meeting him halfway, and greeted him with a breathless, “Hey.”

He spoke your name with a nod and a smile, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, “Chiron needs you in the Big House. Looked serious. I’ll take over here.”

“Oh, Okay.” You nodded, turning to the kids and telling them you’d be back as soon as you could, before marching your worn converse through the grass and up to where the house sat on the edge of the hill.

Chiron was in the doorway when you reached the porch, sat in wheelchair form and wearing a grim look. You paused, worried. He nodded at you, “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Usually I wouldn’t do this, but…desperate times. Follow me.”

You followed as he led you down the hall, brows furrowing, “What's going on? Is everything okay?”

He looked at you with a serious expression, saying your name lowly, “I need you to ensure that what I am about to tell you will never leave the walls of this house. Nobody needs to know about this until we have deemed it appropriate.”

“Of course.” You said immediately, folding your arms. You weren’t so warm anymore. “What happened?”

He straightened up, and stared, “Luke Castellan is back from his quest.”

That was not what you expected him to say. Dropping your arms to your side and stepping forward slightly, “What? Since when?”

“Ten minutes ago, give or take.” He replied, brows in a concerned furrow, “Mr D has taken him upstairs. He is injured.”

“Right.” You nodded, “I’ll go and—“

“Wait, child.” You stopped, one foot on the bottom step of the stairs, looking back at him, “You must know something.”

Chiron took in a deep breath, eyes glossed over like whatever he was about to say weighed heavily on him, “He is…not in good condition. On top of his injuries, Luke is unfortunately…not in a good state of mind. His quest has affected him, and he requested quite adamantly that nobody should see him until he is ready to see them. I will respect his wishes, of course, but he will still need someone to tend to his wounds. That will be you.”

“Me?” You’d never shared a full conversation with the guy. Maybe some small talk, a polite smile here and there, but you were hardly acquainted, let alone friendly. You told him this.

“Exactly my point.” Was his reply, head held high, “Luke does not want to talk to anyone at the moment, and I’m sure if any of his friends were to be up there, they would simply coddle him. You, on the other hand…”

“I’m a stranger.” You nodded, “Of course. Right. I get that. So, you just want me to patch him up, act like it never happened? I can do that.”

“Not exactly, my child.”

You raised a brow.

“Luke’s injuries are quite extensive. He will need around the clock care until he is healed enough. He will also need someone to bring him food, clean clothes.”

“Oh, so you want me to nanny him.”

He chuckled, but it faded just as quickly as it came, “Unfortunately, he needs it.”

You pursed your lips. It didn’t seem all that hard — it was just like having any other camper in the infirmary. Only this one, everyone was on the edge of their seats waiting for, and you weren’t allowed to tell anyone he was a mere fifty feet away from them, curled up in a bed in the Big House.

No biggie.

i. WEEK ONE

Chiron had ushered you up the steps as soon as your conversation was over, and given you directions to the room Luke was in. Your steps were slow and unsure — you’d never been this far into the Big House before, but Mr D stood idly outside one of the doors lining the second floor hallway, arms crossed and face taut. The floorboards creaked under the weight of your foot when you reached the landing, and he looked up at you.

“He’s in there.” He pointed to the door in front of him, “Careful, he’s a short fuse right now. All the medical thingamabobs you need are in there already. Keep your mouth shut about this.”

Then he slid past you and down the stairs without another word, and you were left alone in the empty hall. Blinking hard to clear your head, you stood a few measly steps toward the door, stopping just outside of it and leaning your ear against the wood.

Nothing tangible. Mostly just the scraping of wood against the skin of your ear, and once you had stopped moving, there was nothing. No mutters, no bed creaks, not even a sniffle. It unnerves you, but you wrapped a hand around the cold metal of the handle and turned it anyway.

Maybe it was because he had been gone for a while, or maybe it was because you never saw him that much when he was around, but you had to blink away the shock at Luke’s appearance. Minus the obvious injuries, he just looked different. His skin was tanned and rough, his jaw taut and his hair hanging messily over his forehead, longer bits curling around his ears after going uncut for so long.

He was sitting on the edge of a bed that had been tucked into the corner of the room. There was a window just above it, but a thin curtain had been pulled over it and blocked out the sunlight that was begging to shine on you. The room was dark, but light enough that you could see what you were doing when you walked over to the desk in the other corner and started shuffling through the medical supplies Chiron had left there for you. Not much, but enough for now. You could always get more later.

Turning, you finally made your way over to where Luke was hunched over, staring at nothing. When you entered his line of vision, his dark eyes slid up to yours, and he blinked. Then he sighed, straightened his back and gave you a look that said do what you have to do and then get out.

But you didn’t move, not for at least ten seconds. Because while Chiron had told you he was injured extensively, he didn’t mention the five inch long scar that ran down the side of his face, cutting through his eye. It was jagged and gnarly, sharp edges carving a path through his skin. It was red all around, and just from looking at it you could tell it needed work. It was fairly new, but he had left it long enough for it to heal over — a thin layer of skin stopping it from bleeding.

He raised his eyebrows at you impatiently, and you nodded, scooting back to the desk and grabbing what you needed before going back to where he sat.

“I, uh…I need to get closer.” You were afraid to speak, to break the silence of the room, but you did need to get closer to his face. You waited for him to turn slightly to his left, hitch a leg up on the mattress and face his scar in your direction. Instead, he just slid his legs apart, inviting you to step between them.

And so you did, albeit a little shakily. You didn’t know Luke well enough to consider him a friend, but you’d seen enough of him to know that he never acted like this. He was never this quiet — all eyes, slow movements. He was charming, always grinning, always offering a hand. His battle instincts and ADHD made him fidgety like the rest of them, but from where you stood between his thighs, he was as still as a picture. It unnerved you more than the scar on his face did. You’d seen nasty injuries before, you’d never seen this.

You picked up a gauze, doused it in rubbing alcohol, and started wiping the area. You started on the outskirts, but when you pressed over the edge of the injury, his brows twitched and you let out a weak apology before lessening the grip. You kept your breaths thin and your eyes on your hand, but he wasn’t looking at you anyway. He had drifted off again, staring at nothing, and you were scared to break him out of his stupor again.

“He’s a short fuse.” Mr D had said. But he didn’t seem that way right now, sitting back silently and letting you do your work on his face. He wasn’t much of anything, if you had to make an assessment. You really wanted to know what happened on his quest, and why he was gone for so long, but you also didn’t want to test Mr D’s words by asking.

“What happened?” He didn’t say anything, again. You pressed on, “I sort of need to know before I reopen it…just in case something—“

“A dragon.” He murmured at once. His voice was rough, like he’d just been screaming. Maybe he had been, and that’s why Mr D had warned you. But it seemed all his anger had dissipated in the time it took for Chiron to get you and explain the situation. Maybe. “Ladon. Poisonous bites.”

So he had been to the Garden of the Hesperides. Presumably to collect some Golden Apples. What for, you didn’t know. You weren’t going to ask. You just grabbed a scalpel, muttered a quiet, “This is going to hurt.”, and started cutting down the scar, following its path across his cheek.

Luke hissed hard, not expecting you to dive in so suddenly, and his hand reached out for something to grab. That ended up being your camp shirt, bunching at your waist from where he gripped it between his knuckles. You didn’t mind it, but when you put the scalpel down and started to clean the inside of his wound, he adjusted his hand so he was holding the side of your waist instead, eyes clamped shut and feet tapping the wooden floor. You paused momentarily, but you couldn’t let him breathe or else it would just hurt more when you went back to work, so you brushed it off and continued your rampage down his face until the whole wound was free of the dirt and grime he had let accumulate inside it while he travelled back to Long Island.

“Sorry.” You finally built up the courage to say.

“S’Okay.” He breathed, “My fault.”

You wiped it over one last time before taping a bandage over the top. You cut it into two bits so he could still see out of his left eye, before stepping back from between his legs and assessing your work. Once you had deemed it good enough, you picked up your supplies and headed back to the desk, feeling Luke’s hand fall from your side.

“Uh—“ You really wanted to leave the room now, “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but how long did you leave—“

“Three days.” He answered quickly. Chiron had probably already asked him that, and you felt stupid for making him repeat it.

You turned to leave, but then remembered what Chiron had said to you before sending you up to Luke’s room. You looked at him.

“Do you need anything from your cabin?” You asked, “It’s, uh, kind of my job to get that, if you do.” You turned to face him fully, “Oh, and are you hungry? Because I have to—“

“Just some clean clothes, thanks.” He quipped. It wasn’t looking like he wanted you around for much longer.

You were quick to leave.

It was hard coming up with an excuse as to why you were stealing clothes from Luke Castellan’s bunk, but you just told them there was a new camper in the Big House and Chiron had run out of spares that morning. They brushed it off, and you ran back up to Luke with the clothes bunched in your arms, and were breathless by the time you dropped them on the bed beside him.

“Did anyone see you?” He asked just as you were about to give him the privacy he needed to change.

You were facing the door when he asked, and turned to answer, but he was already pulling off the marred camp shirt he’d arrived in, revealing his very toned torso. You paused, eyes drifting, but quickly snapped them back up to his awaiting gaze. He didn’t seem to care that he was shirtless in front of you, but neither did most boys.

“No.” You weren’t sure how he would react if you’d told him the truth, even though it was harmless. He nodded and started to unbutton his cargos, and you were quick to turn back to the door and yank it open, “Okay, I’ll…uh, probably be back at…later. Bye.”

The rest of your week was rough to say the least. You had a lot on your plate, and it didn’t help when your siblings kept wondering why you were at the Big House three times a day and why you always made a second plate of food at mealtimes. Eventually, it got around that a new camper had arrived, and you were taking care of them. That's when the rumour mill started running.

“I heard they were older, like twenty or something. Apparently they’re super embarrassed.”

“Well, I heard they were injured super badly on their way into camp, and that’s why nobody’s seen them yet.”

“I heard they got violent when Chiron explained the demigod thing and now they have him locked away in the basement!”

So yeah, lots on your plate. You did little to dispel the rumours, not wanting to allude to the truth accidentally, but when you were the only one who knew the truth, it was difficult to hide from those who wanted it too.

But after a few days, you had developed a routine. Wake up, get breakfast, take food to Luke. Check his dressings while he ate and restock your med supplies if needed. Go to whatever task you were running that day, ignore anyone who asked about the new camper, go for lunch. Take lunch to Luke. Check his dressings. Dismiss curious campers. Go to dinner. Take dinner to Luke. Check his dressings. Dismiss curious campers. Lead the campfire sing-along. Check on Luke one more time. Go to bed.

It was a lot, to say the least. But you didn’t complain — if you did this top secret doctor work right, Chiron might make you cabin counsellor when your older sister Alina leaves after this summer.

And just as you had, Luke eased into the routine too. Every time you entered his room, with a polite knock, he would be perched on the side of his bed, legs open and inviting.

You wondered if he actually did this for you, or if he just never moved from that position.

Sunday morning was slightly different — as camp activities were more relaxed and you had more time on your hands. You strolled slowly to the Big House after breakfast — rather than your usual sprint so you weren’t late to Archery — and knocked politely on the door before cracking it open and heading for the desk. With a plate of food in one hand and a fresh bandage in the other, you made your way over to where Luke sat, readying yourself for another quiet twenty minutes of work. It was quite peaceful, now that you’d gotten used to it. More comfortable, less awkward.

“Hi.”

You blinked, almost dropping what you held, but Luke was there to grab the bandage from your hand as your grip loosened in your shock. He attempted a smile, but winced when it pulled at his scar, and chose to nod at you instead.

“Uh…” You put the plate down into the bedside table, straightening your shirt, “Hi.”

He’d never said hi before.

He didn’t say anything else after that, just let you do what you did, but your mind remained a whirlwind. He said hi. That’s a completely normal thing for him to do, and yet you were reeling from it.

Once you had changed his dressings, you headed for the door and allowed him to eat his breakfast. Your hand wrapped around the metal of the handle and turned it, pulling open the wooden door and stepping one foot into the hall before the voice sounded again.

“Bye.”

You chuckled this time, not looking back, “Bye.”

ii. WEEK TWO

It was an average morning, the blistering sun from last week finally fading and allowing you to walk comfortably outside. You never knew what your dad’s problem with you was last week, but you suspected that it had something to do with the cabin counsellor who slept on the second floor of the Big House with a bandage across his eye.

Like usual, you were heading up the stairs, breakfast plate in hand, ready to give your first checkup of the day. If Luke was healing like he should’ve been, you wouldn’t have to change his dressing at lunch, and you were crossing your fingers that he was.

Pushing the door open with your back, you walked in slowly and headed towards the desk like usual. You grabbed the bandage, made your way over to Luke and put the plate down next to his small lamp. Then you straightened up and put the new bandage under your arm, holding it in place while you moved to unwrap his eye.

Before you could, however, Luke was pulling the bandage from where it was trapped against your ribcage and held it in his own hands. You looked at him, and he gave you a weak smile, “Thought it’d be easier if I held it for you.”

You murmured out a thanks and smiled at him, keeping it there even as you peeled back the old dressings and revealed his still healing scar. Usually, it wouldn’t take this long for a demigod wound to heal itself, but because Luke had gone so long without nectar or ambrosia — or any form of medical help, that is — it was in worse condition. You had to scrape out the infected skin from it a few days back, and it left Luke blinking hard to try and hide the tears.

Nowadays he seemed to be better — not as broody as he seemed last week. But you always caught him drifting off, staring at nothing. You wondered if he was reliving it, asking himself what would’ve changed had he done it differently. Your guess? Not much — you’d read up on Ladon the dragon after finding out it was he who caused Luke’s pain, just in case there was something you needed to know before starting the healing process. He was vicious, not even Hercules could get past him. And while Luke was the best swordsman camp had seen in three centuries, even he would struggle going at Ladon alone.

Once you had redressed his face, you stepped back like you always did, your footfalls sounding out the same metronome as they did three times a day. You wondered if you would wear a mark into the floor from your constant repeating path — door to the desk, desk to the bed, bed to the door. You briefly thought that wouldn’t be possible, something like that would take years to indent, but then you looked back at Luke — his forlorn expression, the bandage across his eye and the bags under’t — and wondered how long it would be before he could build the courage to stand up from the bed, return to a camp that relied so heavily on his skill set, and take the weight of his failure with him.

He pulled the plate onto his lap and you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look so sad while stuffing their face with bacon.

“Hey, uh —“ You started, hand on the doorframe in an attempt to look casual. You couldn’t just leave him like that, right? “Do you…know — uh, know where the spare practising swords are kept?” A measly excuse, but it had him looking at you again.

He swallowed his food before speaking, “The wooden ones are in these old boxes in the back of weapon storage, but I think the celestial bronze ones are kept in the Hephaestus cabin now.”

You nodded, tapping your hand against the wood. That didn’t work in the way you wanted it to, but you weren’t going to force it. So you turned, went to open the door and leave —

“Why?”

Nevermind!

You whirled around — not too eagerly! You didn’t want to scare him off, now — “Oh! Uh, some Ares kid snapped one in half the other day, we needed a replacement.”

Luke nodded. Shit, say something else. Get him talking!

“Odd weather we’ve been having.”

What?

His lips parted, and he had the gall to look amused, “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, yeah.” You breathed, humiliated. You pressed your lips together, ready to give up, until a thought came to you, “Hey, you haven’t been outside in, like, a week.”

Luke nodded, shadows falling across his face like the mere mention of the fact that he hadn’t been outside was a painful reminder of his circumstances, “Yeah, I, uh, don’t think I want anyone to know that I’m back yet. Not until I’m healed, y’know?”

You knew. You also knew that probably wasn’t the only reason he refused to let anyone know he was safe in the Big House, but you didn’t say that.

“Right, but —“ A breathy chuckle, “You need, like, sunlight. Fresh air.”

“I don’t wanna risk it.”

“Ok.” And that was that. You said goodbye, left him to his own devices, and didn’t mention the sun thing again for two days.

It was on Wednesday that you finally gave in. Now that you’d put the thought in your own head, you kept noticing the effects that being cooped indoors was having on Luke. His skin, once tanned and glistening under the sun, was paling by the hour. He winced whenever he had to straighten his back, and even though his scar was healing nicely, he seemed to be more sensitive to the pain of it than he was a week earlier.

So on Tuesday night you formed a plan, and on Wednesday morning at breakfast you put it into action. It started with asking Lee — ever so casually, of course — what the activities schedule was looking like. He started yapping about their cabin, and you waited patiently for him to bring up the Amphitheatre. Then, when he said the Apollo kids were training at two, you said —

“I thought we trained at twelve on Wednesdays?”

“No, that’s Ares and Hephaestus.”

“Oh, but don’t they train at four?”

“No, Hermes and Athena train at four.”

“Then who trains at ten?”

“Nobody.”

Bingo.

Luke was halfway through pulling on a pair of shorts when you burst into the room. He jumped, yanking them up the rest of the way before turning to look at you — his face was a mix of shock and unbridled anger until he realised it was you, then it softened into something calmer. But you saw him, even for just a split second, and the animosity in his gaze made you take a quiet step back. It was fearful almost — you’d seen him annoyed, irritated. You’d even bore witness to the Carden Cross Hot Cross Bun Incident of 2002,

(Carden Cross was this fifteen year old Ares kid. He threw one too many hot cross buns at the Aphrodite table and a then-sixteen-year-old Luke had wrung him out in front of everyone.

Nobody had ever heard Luke raise his voice like that, and Carden avoided everyone for a week straight).

but you had never seen such indignation in his gaze. It was gone in a flash, and you could’ve told yourself it was never there, but it was. You were hit with the humbling realisation that whatever Luke had gone through on his quest was more damaging than you could ever imagine, and no amount of fresh air would change him back to who he was before.

That saddened you, but then you realised he was shirtless again and all morbid thoughts went straight out the window. You grinned at him, “Sorry. But we don’t have a lot of time.”

He stared at you, then at your hands that were empty of breakfast food or bandages, and asked, “Time for what?”

“For some fresh air!” You sang, throwing in some jazz hands as if they would wipe the hesitant frown that had graced his features, “Put some shoes on, let’s go!”

He said your name softly, “I can’t go outside.”

You straightened up from where you had leaned dramatically into the room and sent him a blank look, eyes still sparkling, “You can. I checked the schedule, the Amphitheatre is free from ten till twelve and it is currently…nine forty-five. If we hurry, we’ll miss the post-breakfast rush.”

Luke looked a little more at ease now, but he made no move to put his shoes on. His body twitched like he was thinking about it, but when he couldn’t come up with a valid excuse to get out of it, he sighed and nodded, “Alright. Doctors orders, I guess.”

“Awesome.” You smiled, “I’ll let you get ready.”

It took some convincing, even after you’d gotten him to follow you down the stairs, to get him out the door. But a few firm words (and a couple of threats) and he was basking in the morning sunlight just as you’d planned.

Well — more like squinting painfully. Turns out, after a week and a half in a dark room, it takes a minute to get used to the sunlight again. You ensured nobody was around and took the long way to the Ampitheatre, letting out a content sigh when you knew you were away from prying eyes. Luke seemed more relaxed already, and you could practically see his muscles getting looser.

“Damn.” He muttered, hand over his eyes, “I needed this.”

“Yeah.” You spoke over an unattractive snort, “I’m an Apollo kid, I know a Vitamin D deficiency when I’m looking at one.”

“Alright.” He rolled his eyes at you, amused, and moved towards the steps. He climbed up two before turning and sitting, leaning back on his elbows and blinking at the sky, “Think your dad made it extra sunny just for me?”

“Probably.” You smiled, standing in front of him — but still making sure you weren’t blocking the sun from his face. “After some convincing from your dad.”

Luke’s smile faded. His eyes remained closed but his hands tightened into loose fists, “I don’t think so.”

Now you were desperate to change the subject. Your eyes darted to the wall, and the rack of swords sitting in its usual spot, “Hey, wanna swing some bronze?”

“Gods.” He let out a rough laugh, and you grinned in satisfaction, “Swinging Bronze. Haven’t heard that in a while.”

You nodded, glad he was back to being somewhat happy, “We thought we were so cool.”

“We thought it’d catch on.”

You shared a laugh, and Luke peeked an eye open, looking at you, “How come we were never friends back then?”

A meek shrug, “We weren’t really friends until a couple of days ago. That's if you even count us as that now.”

He just kept looking at you, and his gaze burned into your skin. You stepped back, closer to the middle of the arena space, “We never really spoke.”

He looked at you as if he was thinking hard about what you said, and what he was gonna say next. Apparently he came up short, because seconds later he was clicking his tongue and pushing himself up, joining you in the middle of the arena, “Alright. Let’s swing some bronze.”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding. This was going well. He was outside, he was laughing, he was about to pick up a sword for the first time since he’d angrily thrown his own at the porch of the Big House when he got back a week and a half ago.

He handed you a wooden practice sword, and you raised a brow. Usually the wooden ones were for first-timers, or younger kids. He shrugged, you let it go.

Despite the fact that you and Luke had been at camp together for five years, you’d never actually gone one-on-one in a sword fight with him. It was rare that Apollo and Hermes were paired together for activities, since they were the two highest populated cabins, but even when Luke was running the practice he always picked the people he knew the best for demonstrations. You lingered at the back, watching.

So you were slightly nervous, but you also didn’t want to show it. Sure, on any normal day Luke would reassure you with kind eyes and that Luke Castellan Smile, but he wasn’t exactly himself right now. You swallowed down your nerves, matched his stance, and swung.

Best Sword Fighter in Three Hundred Years — not an exaggeration. His moves were swift, calculated, and he stayed calm the entire time. It was as if he knew everything you were going to do before you did it, and had three counterattacks on the back burner for when you would strike. Your swords clashed every time you made a move and suddenly you realised why he wanted you to use wooden swords — the clang of wood was a lot quieter than the clang of bronze, it was less likely anyone would hear you fighting. It made sense, but you couldn’t focus on that when he was practically parrying your thoughts with sweat dripping down his temple.

You held your own, though. You were quite impressed with yourself when you blocked his swipes and sidestepped his jabs. It was making him groan in frustration, and the edges of your mouth perked up. You didn’t realise how good you were at this.

Then Luke stumbled. He grunted, righted himself, and swung again. You blocked it, and he steadied his shoulders. You slowed, focusing on the way he heaved for breath, taking in gulps of air, while you were hardly breaking a sweat. The way he kept readjusting his grip on the hilt of his sword, and how his fingers shook on his free hand. He went for you again and you sidestepped him, making him trip up. He didn’t fall, but he did let out a long angry groan at his mistake, throwing the sword to the ground in frustration.

You flinched, “Luke.”

“This was a bad idea.” He snapped. He wasn’t looking at you, pacing up and down with his hands in his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“You’re still recovering —“ You tried to reason, but he wasn’t listening to you.

“I’m the best damn swordsman this camp has ever seen. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I do this? Why —“

“Luke.” You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He looked at you, “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He gritted through his teeth, “I fail one quest and suddenly I can’t do anything anymore? Yeah, that’s typical.”

You shook your head, “You just need time to get better.”

“I was better! Better than everyone else here, I —“ He paused, a faraway look in his eyes that unnerved you for a second before he was looking at you again, “I can hear people.”

You perked your ears up. He was right, you could hear the chatter of camp if you listened carefully enough — but it wasn’t anything to worry about. They were all doing their own tasks, far away from where they were. If someone was coming, it would be more clear. You told him that, but he shook his head.

“I need to go back. This was a bad idea.”

“Hey, it’s okay, we can go —“

“No, not we. Me.” He said firmly, a hard look in his gaze that he didn’t have before, “I’m going back. You’re staying here. And I’m never going anywhere with you again.”

iii. WEEK THREE

You hadn’t seen him in five days.

Chiron had pulled you out of Archery to ask about Luke — and why he had seen him storm angrily back into his room and lock the door. You just told him you thought it was best for him to find someone else to take care of him for the time being. You didn’t think Luke would want to see you again, ever.

All you wanted was for him to be his old self again. The guy you always saw helping out someone else with a smile on his face, the one who made others laugh and laughed with them. The one who waved at anyone who waved at him. The one who was completely oblivious to the flirting and just thought they were being friendly. The Luke Castellan who everyone gushed about, who everyone loved.

That man up there, with the scar on his face and the look in his eye, wasn't Luke Castellan. And maybe he never would be again, not completely. But he could come close — he could still smile, he could still laugh.

But you’d fucked all that up just by bringing him outside.

You didn’t know who Chiron had asked to replace you, because you never saw anyone else get up after breakfast with an extra plate. You didn’t see anyone sneaking out of the Hermes cabin with a pile of clothes. You stood in the fields for hours a day, watching those thin curtains stand stiff at the window, never to open. You thought you’d seen a shadow, but maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you.

The weekend came and went, and you spent the whole time worrying about Luke. Did this new person know that he preferred fatty bacon? Did they know that he liked keeping the curtains closed? Or would they just bring him a plate of pancakes? Ask him too many questions about his quest? Your mind whirred — would they make him worse?

No. That’s not what you were scared of.

Would they make him better?

Would they understand him more than you did? Would they coerce more words out of him? Would they even need to coerce him, or would he be comfortable holding a conversation with them no problem? What if he was better now than he ever had been with you?

You flinched when your name was called. Looking up from the bracelet you were crafting with some younger kids and meeting the eyes of Dionysus, “Sir.”

“Our, uh, special guest is requesting your presence.” He said with a stupid look on his face, “So get off your ass and get up there, I can’t stand his whining any longer.”

You did as asked with a slight roll of your eyes that made the six year old who was next to you giggle into their hands. It brought a grin to your otherwise down expression, unsure of what Luke wanted to say to you.

The room was dark when you cracked the door open — there was no response after you knocked, but you could hear him shuffling inside, so you went ahead and opened it an inch. It was a lot darker than it used to be — or maybe you too had gotten used to the shade after spending so much time there.

You pushed it open more, and there he was, in his usual spot on the edge of the bed. Head down, hands fiddling with something by his eye. He was muttering in frustration, and you stepped into the room in concern. The floor creaked, he looked up, and you gasped.

The side of his face where his scar sat was red with blood — you almost missed the bandage he was attempting to tie around it because it had been stained pink. His fingers were shaking and he pursed his trembling lips at you, “I can’t do it.”

You surged forward, immediately taking the fabric from his hands. He let them drop into his lap as you peeled it back and looked at the damage. You winced — not as bad as the blood had made it seem, but bad enough. The wound had reopened at the top, and the blood was dripping into his eye and along the curve of his jaw.

It took a few panicky minutes, but eventually the bleeding had stopped, Luke’s face was clean of blood, and you were staring at him in shock, your own fingers still red from the damage. He was avoiding your eyes, the only other thing he’d said to you being a strained thank you when you had stepped back.

“What —“ You were at a loss.

“I tried to change them myself.” He shrugged, picking at his fingernails, still not looking at you. “I’d watched you do it so many times, I figured I had it handled. Apparently I didn’t, because I woke up and it was freakin’ bleeding everywhere.”

“Oh, Luke.” You breathed, “Why didn’t you wait for someone to help you?”

“You never came back.” He said like it was obvious.

“What — so you’ve been doing this yourself for five days?” You asked, a shocked exclamation, “Chiron never sent someone else to help you?”

“He asked me who I wanted,” He shrugged, “I said you. You weren’t an option, so I did it myself.”

“You said —“

“I know what I said, alright?” He stressed, head in his hands now, “It was stupid. I was angry, hurt, whatever. It was at myself, but I took it out on you. I’m sorry. I don’t — “ His voice cracked, “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“Luke.” You murmured. You took a step closer, kneeled before him, and gently pried his hands away from his eyes so he would look at you. His expression was so…sad. So distraught. “What happened on your quest?”

And he told you everything.

iv. THE AFTER

Luke was ashamed to admit it — but he had no idea what your name was when you started looking after him.

Sure, he’d seen you around. You were one of the Apollo kids who spent more time in the infirmary than on the archery fields, but he was too good at his job to get injured. Hence why he didn’t know your name. He knew your face, he smiled at you and you would smile back. He was friendly with your brother, Lee. But that was about it.

That’s what made it so perfect.

You wouldn’t ask him about his quest. You wouldn’t try your hardest to get him to open up. You would do your job, and leave him to mope. That was all he wanted.

Until he learned your name.

And just from glancing at your smile — all awkward and nervous as you introduced yourself — he knew he wanted to be near you. He knew you were the type of person he could sit in silence with and walk away from it with a happy memory.

He thought he knew enough about you to determine who you were to him (a stranger). But he didn’t know your name, your voice, he didn’t know your touch or your smile — the real one you give when someone truly makes you laugh. Not the one he thought he knew.

He stood stiffly on the porch of the Big House — three weeks was all it took before Mr D was kicking him out, telling him to get a grip and face the music. Luke was ready; physically. His scar was nothing but that — a memory, faded into his skin forever. There was no other reason for him to keep himself hidden other than the fact that he wanted to. If it was up to him, nobody would ever bear the burden of seeing him ever again.

For weeks he told himself that his quest was pointless. He screamed it at the gods, at Chiron, at you. He cursed his dad every night for sending him on a path to failure and not even acknowledging it. He cursed himself for ruining the first chance he had at gaining his fathers pride in seventeen years — he sat in the dark, fists clenched, and asked himself what it was all for.

The five years on the run, the endless monster attacks, the relentless training, the offerings, the prayers. Would his life be any better had he just let that first monster kill him?

No. Because he wouldn’t have met Thalia, or Annabeth. He wouldn’t have seen the brighter side of being a halfblood — he wouldn’t have met his siblings, he wouldn’t have found his calling. He wouldn’t have experienced the joy of helping a new camper, of being the guiding hand he never got to hold.

But what of his quest? His mission for his father brought nothing but pain — a pointless trip, a humiliating failure, a deep jagged scar. For weeks he asked himself why he was given the quest in the first place, and for years to come he will question himself each and every day.

But each and every day he asks himself what the gods had ever given him, he would be reminded of the day he learnt your name. And he would tell himself had he not taken that trip, had he not fallen to Ladon, he never would have felt the searing touch of your fingertips on his skin.

So maybe it was worth it after all.

He stepped off the porch.

#the title is a play on words #cos it wasn’t just the physical wounds #get it?#i’ll shut up #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson

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reinainaric · 3 months

Text

HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 2.

mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.

But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.

contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna

warning: cursing

links: < part 1 > > < part 3 >

Note: This is turning into a series help 😭

***

It didn't sit right with Sukuna how you became so quiet throughout their band practice.

Not a word of appreciation. Not one compliment whenever the band finishes a song. On top of that, you wouldn't even look at him.

That pissed him more. He's been glancing at you several times, thinking about how he's supposed to say sorry about what happened, when he himself is not even an apologetic person.

He watched you look at Nanami, looked at Suguru and Choso, even smiled at Yuji at one point. But not to him.

Did it bother Sukuna so much how your eyes looked tired? How your eyes were so red from crying? How your silence was killing him? Two days have already passed since the incident, and you're still crying over it?

It was definitely affecting not just him, but also the whole band. Their own manager, who's always so happy and full of sunshine, was just looking down at her feet, biting her lip as she watched everyone do their thing. Everyone looked at Sukuna like he should do something, and it annoyed him how he knows that he really should, but it wasn't the right time yet.

So when the band finally bid their goodbyes and left the room, he was quick to his feet to close the door, locking the two of you inside.

Your eyes widened as you watched as his back tensed, before he turned to you with fire in his eyes.

"What's wrong with you?"

You gulped at his question.

What is he talking about anyway? What 'wrong' did he mean? Did he mean your behaviour for always being a nuisance with him? Or did he mean it somewhere between the lines of 'what's bothering you'?

You purse your lips, looking away from him in confusion. You couldn't even look at his face. You're just so afraid you'll give in. "What do you mean?"

"Don't act all innocent with me, brat." He spat, taking slow steps towards you, making you walk backwards until you felt your back hit the wall. "You've been silent all day, and everyone seemed to be affected. Stop being a fucking baby."

If you didn't know what he was talking about minutes ago, you definitely knew now. Of course, you're not that dumb to not see how the band had an awkward atmosphere moments ago, but you didn't know that it was because of you.

"I'm sorry-”

You stopped when he held your chin with his fingers, his other hand leaned on the wall behind you, locking you in. "Better keep your mouth shut if you're only going to apologize again. I'm so sick of your sorries."

Your mouth parted to speak, and you swear you saw Sukuna's eyes looking at them before returning back to look at your eyes. Your face started to heat up, and your hands were trembling at your sides.

His face leaned in closer, his breath practically fanning over the skin of your neck. "If it's about what happened, then..." He took a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it. "I'm... sorry... princess… Is that… what you wanted to hear?" He said it so slow, and so taunting. Like he was teasing you for your vulnerability.

His thumb brushed your lower lip for a moment, and it made you shiver as he straightened his composure, taking a step backward with a smirk.

"Don't expect me to repeat what I said, brat. I better not see you crying tomorrow."

•

Did his apology make you feel better? It definitely didn't.

But did it mess with your head? Yes, it did.

You were restless the whole night, the scene replaying in your head over and over again. And it's not helping you to move on from Sukuna.

In fact, it only made your feelings worse. When you remember how he got so close to you, his face almost touching yours, it's like your heart was about to burst from your chest.

The next day, you were definitely back to your jolly self though. But the difference? You are avoiding Sukuna now.

As Sukuna pulled up in the school parking lot, his eyes roamed around to look for a certain person who he expected to be waiting for him. But no. You were not there. He thought that maybe you just came in late, but when he saw you at the school corridors, walking right past him, his heart drums on his chest nervously like a wake-up call.

He shouldn't be affected. No, he shouldn't be feeling that strange feeling tugging at his chest. Maybe he just needs a cup of coffee to ease them.

He didn't like this feeling.

Band practice came, and of course, you two are bound to be in the same room. Everyone went in, all feeling better than yesterday to see you back with your usual energy. The mood felt lighter as you conversed with everyone, and still not to him.

As you walked around the room, you felt someone's eyes following you, but you paid it no mind.

•

Why do you always have to see Sukuna in the practice room when everyone still hasn't arrived?

You found Sukuna once again, in his usual spot in the corner of the room. His hands were busy playing his guitar, but stopped when both your eyes darted at each other.

You blinked a few times, before muttering in a low voice, "H-hi."

It was just for formality anyway. Even though you can't look him straight in the eye anymore, you still have to keep some kind of professionalism as the manager of the band.

You sat at a chair on the other side of the room, keeping a wide distance.

Sukuna stared at you, almost piercing a hole in your head as you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.

Usually, Sukuna wouldn't even care if people watch him play with his guitar. However, it was a little different with you now, and he's not able to think straight anymore, so that made him stop doing whatever he was doing.

It was so strange for Sukuna. How you wouldn't even say some nonsense to him, like you usually do.

He wanted to ask, what is really wrong with you this time?

Why aren't you bothering him? You weren't blabbering anymore. You don't wait for him outside school. You don't give him chocolates or any snacks. You don't tell him how much you like him in front of everyone. You don't compliment his talents even though he was just playing a guitar.

The things you used to do, in which you're not doing anymore, was clenching something in his guts.

You weren't trying to get his attention, and he was wanting to get yours.

“Brat.”

It was like an automatic response for you to look, and it almost made him chuckle at your flushed face. It was a nickname that he always called you, insulting you yet you got used to it.

Your face heated up as your back straightened on your seat. “Y-yes?”

Sukuna stared at you long enough, his brows meeting each other. He was trying to read you, but it was already obvious to him how you're putting a wall between you two.

And he didn't really like it.

“Finally given up, huh?”

His tone was sour, like he disapproves of the idea of what he's trying to say.

You only looked at him confused as he didn't care to explain his words any further when his eyes darted back to his guitar, and continued to busy himself.

The silence had never felt so suffocating before until now.

•

The school fest came by quickly, and the band was busy rehearsing backstage.

Sukuna was busy, and so were you as you ordered people around where to place some equipment. It was a public show anyway, the school allowed outsiders since it was their big founding anniversary that they celebrate every year.

Of course, you're not only busying yourself with handling the show, you have to keep the members on track as well.

You were holding bottles of water for the band members in your small hands, since the cafeteria said they ran out of bags, you were forced to carry them in your arms.

As you pushed the door where the members were staying out, a figure was also about to exit, making you crash into his chest.

Almost.

You almost dropped the bottles if the man in front of you didn't hold your waist to steady your body, his body pressing against the bottles in your arms between the two of you just so they wouldn't fall.

You sucked in a breath as you lifted your eyes, meeting Sukuna's.

“Careful.” He whispered. He took the bottles from your hand with ease, opening the door for you as he placed them on the table for everyone to see.

But you couldn't even move in your spot.

You felt some kind of electric shock lingering in your waist, your heart beating rapidly.

•

The school fest ended well with cheers and shouting. Everyone was pleased at the performance, and it was finally time to rest.

You slumped on the couch, while everyone was organising their bags, and placing their guitars on its case.

You were breathing heavily since you've been running around backstage the whole performance, since you had to make sure there were no technical errors happening around.

You were so busy with yourself that you didn't even notice Sukuna taking a seat beside you.

He grabbed one bottle of water, opening it easily, and then, surprisingly, handed it to you.

He didn't even know what he was doing.

You were surprised, and it didn't even look like he was aware of what he did.

With shaky hands, you accepted the water, muttering a small thanks to him as you drank.

But even the water couldn't calm your beating heart.

•

The week ended, and the band decided to go to a bar to party for their successful show. Everyone was there–Nanami, Suguru, Choso, Yuji, and Sukuna–they all gathered at a table drinking some shots when you saw them.

Yuji already looked tipsy, Nanami was watching over everyone while still drinking himself, Suguru was chatting with Choso and Sukuna. You were also feeling the alcohol getting into your system as you talked with Nanami.

“Manager! Let's dance!” Yuji called you. He was smiling from ear to ear, his face red from the alcohol.

“Of course, Yuji.”

Yuji pulled your wrist as you two walked to the dance floor. He was jumping around and moving his body to the rhythm of an upbeat song, and you did the same to synchronise his movements. You both were laughing and talking despite the blaring music that played so loudly. As Yuji kept handing you glasses after glasses of liquor, it was pretty clear that you two were getting drunk already.

You stopped your movements as you held Yuji’s shoulder, shouting closely to his ear. “I'm going to the bathroom!”

Yuji nodded, giving you a two thumbs up, his eyes sparkling because of the lights illuminating the bar.

Believe it or not, Sukuna was watching over the two of you the whole time, the alcohol also clouding his system at one point. He's just lucky that he had a high alcohol tolerance, so he was still sane when he followed your disappearing figure from the crowd.

You stumbled outside the bathroom after you were done. Your throat was burning from all the alcohol you consumed, and your feet were hurting because of the heels you wore after jumping and dancing around like a maniac. You were drunk, and it was so obvious by the way that you walked as you struggled to keep your balance.

You should thank your guardian angels that Sukuna followed you, quickly holding you in place by the waist before you can even face palm on the floor.

“You're drunk,” he grunted, looking down at you.

You mumbled incoherent words, your hands touched his wrist that was touching your waist. His body was pressed against you as you tried to keep standing on your feet, but you were feeling weak. There was a radiating sensual heat between you, and it was making your cheeks heat up.

“Sukuna…” Your words were slurred, and even sounded sleepy. “Sukuna… why are there… two Sukuna in my eyes?”

Sukuna's gripped on you tighten, knowing how much you've gotten pretty drunk, he was pretty sure you wouldn't be able to get home properly in this state.

“Come on,” he held your arms, steadying you. “I should take you home.”

“But the party's not over–”

“Shut up."

You frowned, letting yourself be pulled by Sukuna as he led you out of the bar. With one hand, he quickly got his keys from his pocket and clicked something in it as you two walked at the quiet parking lot. The car made a sound, and you two walked towards his car, with you almost tripping on your feet.

“‘Kuna…” You whined softly, your hands pulling him to stop. “W-where are you… hic… t-taking me?”

“Shut up and just stay still, would ya?” He hissed as he pushed your back against his car.

Your vision was blurry, but you still somehow saw Sukuna knelt down in front of you as his hands grazed your ankle. Your eyes are half-closed as you feel Sukuna taking the straps off of your heels, lifting your feet up to take off your heels on both your feet.

You breathed heavily as he stood up, your head tilting to the side as you stared up at him. “What are you doing to me…” You whispered, lips pouting.

He raised an eyebrow, his one hand was carrying your heels and the other was placed on your waist. “Get in the car. Now.”

You faked a gasped, head falling on his chest. “Why are you always so mean to me?” You slurred, your weak fists punching his chest.

Sukuna took a heavy breath as he caught your fists in his hands, unclasping them, and then lifting your chin up with the same hand that was holding yours. “You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?”

Your lips pouted even more as you stole your hand from his grasp, and then poking his cheek with your pointer finger. “Ha! You're the one who's always stubborn! I don't like you! No, no… I don't like you! You're bad!” You poked his cheek after each word.

Sukuna's jaw clenched as he caught your wrist once again. He leaned in closer, making you move your head backward,

“You don't like me anymore, doll?” He chuckled devilishly.

“Yes… n-no… yes…”

Sukuna's grin grew wider as he watched your drunk and fragile state. You looked so small beneath him he could crush you so easily. And it fascinates him, entertains him even as he sees another side of you that looked so weak for him.

He let out a hum, his face a few inches from your ear. "Should I change that?"

***

So... come back for part 3!

• Part 1

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fumifooms · 2 months

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The Nakamoto household - facts & theories masterpost

Table of contents:

the hierarchy & general situation

The parents

The Maizuru situation

The siblings

The other retainers

Izutsumi

Toshiro

Conclusion

I also made tldr summary charts here. This post is about collecting facts about the setting and characters, but it’s gonna be a lot of analysis on what it means through the lens of Toshiro as well, his relationship and place in everything etc etc. They have entangled drama the scale of Daltian Clan. Things are so interwoven it’s hard to keep topics neatly in their own section, because of this pictures may be relevant at several point of this but I mostly won’t be putting them in twice, you might have to do some scrolling up while reading if you want the visual proof to accompany statements. Unlike with Chilchuck’s family there’s less ambiguousness and more intricate details and implications so it’s less theorizing & headcanoning and more stringing together all the crumbs canon gave us. I also dig into some cultural parallels, especially since characters from Wa are the most culturally coded in the series. Also disclaimer that I’ll be calling Shuro Toshiro through this whole thing bc that’s his actual name & Shuro isn’t even a nickname he likes, for accuracy’s sake. The servant girls have real names but are typically called by their code/given names so I’ll call them as such, except for Izutsumi who was named Asebi which I won’t be using.

The general situation

To start off, what’s the situation in canon? All three kids of the head of the house, the three sons (Toshiro and his two younger brothers), are sent out on a vague mission to find something interesting for his father to pick the heir. Each son is thus on their own journey, out with their own group of retainers for an unsure length of time, during canon it’s been 2 years that Toshiro left the house for this mission, and they seemingly all drifted towards dungeons. It’s important to remember that this state of things is the exception and not the rule, and before this the sons lived at home and had different uses of their time, and the retainers had other jobs than care after them. See the next paragraph.

The household offers ninja services, no exaggeration or misuse of the term, mostly spyint but also "covert maneuvers" which could include anything including assassination of people high up. That’s the job of their servants/retainers at least, the heads themselves are more like managers probably, possibly samurais themselves though especially since as we see with the heirs (besides the samurai armor) they also got trained in fighting as their skills showcase. I need to dig into the history of samurais more before I can draw the parallel confidently though. The Nakamoto household is noble/wealthy, distinguished as the Adventurer’s Bible puts it, but it works for and puts its service at use for "their local lord". It buys servants, but also has families who have served it for generations like with Hien. The comic shows that there aren’t only women servants, it’s just the ones we see all happen to be because Toshiro’s retainers are only a small team of all of Nakamoto’s servants.

Above, in a page showcasing characters’ relationships with their party leader: 父親の部下を借りている状態なので、距離がある。Doubtlessly there must be a translation of this already somewhere but I’m lazy and impatient so I turned to machine translation instead, this translates into: "Since he is borrowing his father's subordinates, there is a distance between him and them". Calling the servants retainers is what most of the fandom does and it’s accurate so I’ll be calling them this.

Hien and Toshiro were childhood friends which means the servants do have some degree of contact not even just together but with the heirs too, or maybe just specifically Hien, since both their parents were ninjas for the Nakamotos she ended up getting raised there and they let her play with him as an exception? They did end up drifting away as adults as their relationship got more professional, so it’s possible. The servants eat and sleep in shared spaces, separate from the masters, though Maizuru has her own bedroom, if the room configuration at the in is to be believed + it’d make sense since she’s governess/head servant. I’m hesitant wether to say it’s implied that this group of 4 retainers was always a bit of a team or it wasn’t and got formed for Toshiro specifically. We know that Benichidori had little contact with Toshiro before they were sent out together for example, but we do see all three girls with Izutsumi in Inutade’s extra when they were younger, and them eating in the same japanese styled room etc. The inn they stay at on The Island is western styled though they do have futons rather than beds (there’s only one bed in their shared room and Hien has it because of her rank).

From Izutsumi’s Adventurer’s Bible profile: "Maizuru, who was also Shuro's governess, is the one thing Izutsumi fears. After Izutsumi was taken in by the Nakamoto family, Maizuru forced her through a harsh training regimen of speech, common sense, and fighting skills. Since Izutsumi refused to listen to her, Maizuru set a curse on her that would activate if Maizuru didn't touch her within a set time frame: "Ninja Art: Babysitter." "

Maizuru, called a governess, is the one training the girls, at least some of them, we know for a fact she was the one to train Izutsumi for example, and in general she’s the one in charge of the ninja girls we see. She was a ninja herself but retired from frontline missions, but has a central role managing the servants instead. Inutade for example is strong but not stealthy, and it’s said that it’s Maizuru’s job to choose how to train her and what role to give her in consequence. Her training includes manners but fighting as well, notably kunais and martial arts. Hien is shown to use bombs and Benichidori is implied to be good at disguises, Inutade uses a bold weapon like a club but it’s implied with "ogres and clubs just go together" and Maizuru not knowing where to put her to use that it’s uncommon for Nakamoto servants to use those. Their board game artworks also show their specialties neatly. When brought into the household, the servants are given new names and their whole lives become devotion to the house and their duties. The names might be intended to act as code names due to them being ninjas? It’s implied that they never use their non-code names anymore once they start serving the household. Maizuru’s training also contains language and "common sense"… Critical thinking? As well as implied etiquette. This isn’t surprising, as she was the one put in charge of raising not only Toshiro but his brothers as well.

Oh yes I want to mention that all the retainers’ "first deaths" are in the dungeon during canon, considering our main cast we’re used to death being permissible because dungeons make resurrections possible, but it’s relevant to remember that these people never died before. Never. These girls are professionals, ninjas with a sometimes very dangerous job. Messing up means death, permanently.

From what we see and with who we see, the hierarchy is:

Father (head of house, his word goes)

Mother (has status which puts her wishes above others’ and give her some control over the house, it’s unsure how much though, but hierarchy wise she’s very much above the rest but below the father)

Maizuru (governess, in charge of (at least some) servants and raising Toshiro. Two dots)

Hien (leader of their squad, trained servant from a family devoted to the Nakamotos. Two dots)

Benichidori (trained bought servant. Two dots)

Inutade and Izutsumi (bought servants. Power wise from their rank it’s unsure just how much the difference between Inutade (who has one dot), Izutsumi (who has none) and Benichidori (who has two) is, since Hien is team leader between the four servants at least that’s measurable. Inutade gets some janitor duties, and Izutsumi has a curse put on her so she doesn’t run away I suppose. Power wise it’s unsure, but socially/role wise Inutade and especially Asebi are treated worse.)

I didn’t add the sons because I’m talking more generally about the power structure and it’d depend on each sibling, like Toshiro’s wants and directives during canon trump Maizuru’s, but Maizuru is also his nanny and manages the girls so she has a lot of importance and sway even on the final decisions.

The parents

I am so pissed I forgot that we know Toshiro’s father’s name, Toshitsugu, from these panels showing the progression of the family tree. I am so pissed I’m adding this halfway into writing this whole thing, I am not gonna go back and replace every "the father" by his name atm.

The father is the part of this puzzle most important yet most shrouded in mystery, or rather a lack of details. What we do know paints a pretty full and vivid portrait: impulsive and cares mainly about his own entertainment. Maizuru calls him a fool, his sons are exasperated and go "This again?" when he summons them saying that they’re boring/dull, everyone knows he’s having an affair and he often has undignified demeanor, but what he says goes so yes Maizuru will take Izutsumi under her wing, yes the sons will be going out right away into the world to find you the 8th world wonder, yes whatever you want lord. He seems to have little care for how his action affects others, like crashing into Maizuru’s room at night and asking she take care of a catgirl, or sending out his sons suddenly with kicks to the butts. He does what he wants hen he wants and others have to comply.

Like we see with Izutsumi and Inutade, he tends to take a liking to slaves here and there and buy them on the spot, usually at entertainment places, like sumo wrestling matches for Inutade and a freakshow for Izutsumi. The Adventurer’s Bible states him acquiring Inutade as "By coincidence, Shuro's father came to see her first match; he liked her and bought her for the Nakamoto family." and Izutsumi as "She was on display as a "cat-girl" in a sideshow when Shuro's father took an interest in her and bought her." In Maizuru’s extra, he calls Izutsumi a "souvenir" he got for her, and he’s drunk so it could well be assumed that buying Izutsumi was a drunken whim, and that he mitht be alcoholic. You can’t really say that he picks them out because he sees potential in them to be a ninja or would be useful, since with Izutsumi she had no fighting training and Inutade doesn’t fit the skills they seek like stealth and she has trouble fitting in. You could assign noble goals to him like maybe wanting to help or relating to the misfits, but I think with what we see of him it’s more likely that he likes to pick up "oddities", like a catgirl at a freakshow or an ogre, especially since one of the only things we know of him is he wants his sons to bring back interesting trophies from their travels. Toshiro, about his father buying Inutade, says: "People in power desire ogre as servants, and ogres are chosen as opponents in tests of strengths or military exploits. My father bought her for similar reasons."

Also from this we can infer that he goes out to events often, like circus and sumo wrestling, again mostly for entertainment from what we see. I like to think it’s implied that he used to travell maybe still does, due to his own liking for it as a test and because he visits various places like the sideshow, plus his forearm scars in Toshiro’s extra… But him being a samurai in service of a lord could definitely explain that.

This all paints an interesting picture doesn’t it… The Nakamoto’s lifestyle is super encased in rules and social propriety, duty and hierarchy. Old noble man who’s been surrounded by propriety all his life and just wants some spark of interesting stuff happening amongst the humdrum of his lavish cushioned life at home, and is shitty to people around him in consequence and due to his privilege allowing him to. He’s despicable, but from his 3 appearances he becomes an interesting well-fleshed character, at least proportionally to the screentime he gets…

We also know that the affair with Maizuru is well known at least inside the household, so there’s no genuine secrecy around the topic. Makes sense that the wife would hate her guts.

Ahh yes the mother. Little is known about the mother, except that from Maizuru’s profile "Shuro’s mother can’t stand the sight of her, to the point where there are areas on the property Maizuru is forbidden to enter. Maizuru, however, is impressed by his wife’s strength of character." From this I glean that she does have enough power/respect in the house that she can make rules like where Maizuru is allowed to go. Also the implication that otherwise Mazuru would have access to EVERYWHERE in the house despite being only a (high-ranking) servant is a bit interesting. Wether the mother’s "strength of character" is overt and hot-headed or understated and cool-headed is unsure, but I imagine the latter more. I could see Maizuru’s angle in many ways, from being able to tolerate "that fool" aka the father both just in general and with knowing that he’s cheating on her, to knowing how hard it is to be respected as a woman and admiring her putting up with it all and still being able to have sway in the household. This is I think the only mention of the mother anywhere. Doesn’t seem like she is an important figure to Toshiro at all: in fact we hear about her on Maizuru’s profile, and seeing all of this we can see the importance of her in Maizuru’s backstory and life, moreso than Toshiro’s. I imagine she’s a bit of a recluse, which is part of why Maizuru not being allowed to roam the full house is important, because them running into each other at the house is high.

It’s unsure how much contact the parents have with their kids. What we know is that they left the principal tasks of raising the kids, or at least Toshiro, to servants. Toshiro’s profile says that he’s more attached to Maizuru than his parents, and that’s the phrasing. From the comic where their father summons the sons, it does seem like they’re more or less used to interacting, with the sons’ "This again?". So it’s not that they’ve only interacted with them few times enough to count on fingers, but how meaningful were those interactions? From Toshiro’s profile we know he has a complex where he thinks he’ll never get recognition from his father or be able to measure up to him… But is that more born out of secondhand gossip and expectations, or from direct interactions with him that made him feel that way? Likely a mix of both, especially since the father does seem to be very dismissive, uncaring and insulting with his sons. Oh, but it’s definitely notable that in the Hag monster tidbit (below in Maizuru’s section) six years old Toshiro runs to his father scared shitless for help against the shikigami, and his father casually helps him without batting an eye. Toshitsugu knows how to deal with Maizuru’s shikigamis, and he does so efficiently and without any sense of worry or urgency. Although the event traumatized Toshiro and he was very scared, it doesn’t seem like his father offered any comfort, beyond just helping getting rid of it and letting him cower behind him without comment. Toshitsugu gives hungover vibes in that one imo haha. It’s shown he was already training as a ninja, perhaps this event only reinforced Toshiro’s complex, seeing his father, the samurai the achieved man who has expectations for him, so unfazed and uncaring like that.

The Maizuru situation

Let’s establish a timeline first. It’s left vague how much time she’s served the Nakamoto family for, or how she came to be in their service. The central point is that "She was put in charge of raising their children at a young age". If straight from his birth, Maizuru started taking care of Toshiro when she was 15 years old. If from toddler age, then 16. It’s uncertain if when she stopped getting front-line espionage missions, but we know it’s late rather than early despite having kid raising duties. But well, since she’s also in charge of the ninjas she’s definitely has a multitasking role even now.

The dad prob has around 5-10 years more than Maizuru, I’d say. We only see half of his face and only a good few years in the past, around ~3 years ago probably with the shuro quest and a good 7 years with Izutsumi as a kid, but visually those are the vibes I’m getting. From Toshiro’s birth, it’s possible that the father was 15 when the baby was born too? But conception would have been closer to 14 years old then, and yeah I don’t think they marry and have kids that young. Toshiro is 26 years old in canon and is unmarried, and the heir hasn’t been officially picked, so marriage and kids don’t seem to be in the family’s priorities. Even if Maizuru do say that the father would love if Toshiro brought back a wife.

Now the elephant in the room: she has an on-and-off affair with the father and it has been si for many many years, at LEAST 7 years since that’s when we see that comic of him going into her chambers about Izutsumi, and in the comic above, Hien in that panel has an ambiguous age. Regardless it’s definitely implied that it’s a long, long-standing thing. Hien’s phrasing above makes it sound as if it’s not purely physical, as if feelings are involved, "he’s head over heels for his confidante", and who knows if this relationship is part of why Maizuru was chosen to be the governess, or even hired at all.

It’s in the feud with his father that we learn about maizuru’s affair and how after learning it he started shutting her out emotionally. It’s left vague when Toshiro learned about it, Hien made it sound as if everybody always more or less knew but I don’t think Toshiro started shutting her out when he was still pretty young. Regardless, the two are implied to be linked, his dislike of his father/complex and how he stopped getting along well with Maizuru/being emotionally open with her. Is it that he now feels as though Maizuru is actually on his father’s side and not his own, that after all if she had to choose she’d pick him over Toshiro too? Or is it that, because his father’s known to be a self-centered frivolous jerk, that knowing she lets it happen, "can’t seem to shake it", he respects her less? He has an irresponsible reputation and she does give off the vibe of needing to clean up his messes, so that wouldn’t be unplausible either.

On the flipside from her perspective, since he learned she was his dad’s mistress he emotionally shut her out, which can partly explain why she’s SO fussy with him and happy at the slightest hint of happiness or compliance, like when he listens to her and eats, or maybe even being happy that he lets her help him dress and keep tidy (imo this is supported by how they interact in the page showing him interacting with all his party members). She wants to regain that closeness they once had and for her baby chick to be alright as he’s slipping through her fingers. Man so sad to think about him rejecting her when he’s the only thing in her life. She’s raised him for 26 years, no wonder she’s so attached to him, the only thing in her life she feels true unconditional attachment for. Maizuru says that she thinks Toshiro’ll be a better head of the house than the father, too. The respect and care is somewhat onesided, given freely from her side but repressed from his end. When she cares for Toshiro is when her demeanor immediately and drastically softens. She gets easily carried away when it comes to him, rambling enthusiastically or smiling widely or tearing up. Her tendency to ramble or tell anecdotes about Toshiro is shown making Hien and Benichidori go "Here she goes again…" twice through canon.

With Izutsumi’s timeline we see Izutsumi was taken into the Nakamoto household at 10 yo, and since in the comic with Maizuru and the dad she’s shown as stinky and all I imagine she arrived there the same day, so Maizuru was in charge of her since she was first here. In fact if we assumed that it’s the same day as when he bought her at the circus show, then we could assume that buying her was a drunken whim like mentioned.

Since Izutsumi was taken in at 10 and she’s 17, this would mean that Maizuru is 34 years old here. She looks younger without makeup, but lower than that is mathematically impossible besides maybe 33 if Maizuru and Izutsumi’s birthdays line up just right.

Time for the second elephant in the room!!

Maizuru’s magic

Maizuru is the only person in the Nakamoto household, anyone from Wa really, who we see using magic, I doubt she’d be the only one who can use magic in the household but as the governess it wouldn’t be unplausible I suppose. From what we see, the magic is estimated by Marcille to be an "appropriation of gnomic magic" with an eastern script. For my analysis of written magic (though with only a brief glance over Maizuru’s magic), see this post.

If you scroll up and read the little section on Maizuru’s profile, Ninja art: babysitter: "One of the curses put on Izutsumi is Ninja Art: Babysitter, which manifests as a terrifying hag shikigami. Unless Maizuru touches the victim within a set time frame, this terrible curse makes a hag appear and chase them around with a carving knife. Maizuru originally created it in an attempt to keep Shuro from getting lost, but it ended up traumatizing him…"

From Izutsumi’s profile: "Maizuru, who was Shuro’s governess, is the one thing Izutsumi fears. […] Since Izutsumi refused to listen to her, Maizuru set a curse on her that would activate if Maizuru didn’t touch her within a set time frame: "Ninja Art: Babysitter." It was put on her when she was 12. Since Toshiro had it as a kid, presumably the curse can be lifted off rather easily, Marcille was confident on reverse engineering it as well. It’s unsaid what the time frame is, it’s kept vague everywhere and Izutsumi herself says "who knows" how long it is. Izutsumi ran away despite the very real risk of it killing her. Essentially, Maizuru can put people in a timebomb collar

… MAIZURU WHAT THE HELL

As we might have expected, Maizuru being given the task of rasing a child at 15 did not go perfectly. This, a babysitting technique??! This comic happens when Toshiro was 6 and so Maizuru was 21. Interesting to note that Toshiro didn’t even know it was Maizuru’s doing before this conversation during canon, and he doesn’t know how to bring it up or deal with it how it affected him. Maizuru seems surprisingly uncaring of Toshiro’s feelings on the matter here, oblivious to his conflict her and fondly recalling it all.

This curse is a shikigami. From her profile: "A shikigami user, Maizuru has a variety of shikigami that have been sealed in paper as her servants. Her favorite seems to be Gyuki, a bull ogre." Now don’t ask me when Gyuki appears, I do not remember it. But before we go into the cultural/historical basis for this practice, let’s take a second to recognize the parallel that Maizuru has servants she keeps sealed unless useful in the moment, even despite having enough "attachment" to have a favorite. She’s the governess in charge of the other servants, and she has shikigamis, which she has used on the heir and the runt at the bottom of the hierarchy alike.

Shikigami, in traditional japanese folklore, are conjured to exercise risky orders for their masters, such as spying, stealing and enemy tracking. Shikigami are said to be invisible most of the time, but they can be made visible by binding them into small, folded and artfully cut paper manikins.

Shikigamis are from onmyodo, onmyoji is a profession-legal title historically but it’s what you call a practitioner of onmyodo, and so I feel content in saying that Maizuru is an onmyoji, or based on it. Her outfit reminds me of a shinto priest. It’s interestingly closer to a shinto priest outfit than a miko/shrine maiden’s (in picture below, 2 instead of 5), and I feel like red being chosen for the inner sleeve is a very charged decision since the white & red color combo is the shinto clothes color combo. Especially white clothes with red inner sleeve. Shinto priests can be women nowadays but they’re rare, and onmyojis can be considered shinto priests though it’s a more complex than that. Image below as example, source. Now I don’t think Maizuru has the role or prestige of a priest at all- But the association with onmyodo and spirituality is definitely meant to be made I think. Onmyojis are usually clothed similarly to this.

The babysitter ninja art seems to be based off of the hannya yokai. "They were once human women who were consumed by jealousy and transformed into demonesses", twisted by anger and resentment. Interesting considering her being a mistress to a man whose wife hates her. Hannyas are associated with wisdom because of its name, but there is nothing positive about them. At its highest level of "demonic corruption" if I can call it that, their body tend to become serpentine, fun link to make with her name being from the snakeberry plant.

Other cultural ties or symbolism on Maizuru’s character could be found in the motif of cranes due to her sleeves, in the tales of the crane wife, origami cranes (called orizuru, from deformation of 鶴 "tsuru" aka "crane". All names are written in katakanas in Dungeon Meshi, but thus if we had had the kanjis it’s possible her name would have been written with the kanji for crane), tennyos, and japanese crane symbolism in general. I thought cranes might have been associated with motherhood, but seemingly not in japanese culture at least, I was thinking of storks haha.

Ok speaking of her name. Maizuru is the name of an existing japanese city (舞鶴), meaning "dancing crane". From @room-surprise’s work in progress research paper on Dungeon Meshi characters’ names: "Maizuru is her ninja code name, and comes from “maizurusou”, which is maianthemum dilatatum, the snakeberry plant/two-leaved Solomon's seal/false lily of the valley. Lily of the Valley is a plant associated with motherhood and virtue… So Maizuru being a false Lily of the Valley implies that she is a false, replacement mother, and also hints at the way that Toshiro became cold towards her when he realized she was his father’s mistress, and not a pure, virtuous mother-like figure that he thought she was. Also, lilies are toxic to cats, which makes sense since Maizuru and Izutsumi have an extremely bad relationship." For more details I’ll leave it up to Room when the paper is ready to be released.

So some big themes of her character are: (false) motherhood, spirituality/magic, control, cranes, woman’s jealousy.

The siblings

Alriight so besides Toshiro the eldest at 26 years old, there is Toshiyuki (Toshitsuge in one fantranslation) the middle son and Toshizane the youngest (Toshikage in one fantranslation). They were all said to be raised by Maizuru. "A strange level of distance" is interesting. Why strange? I feel like this implies they do interact regularly, and that they’re all rather civil wirh each other, but they still have little bond to speak of. That wouldn’t surprise me, especially since even inside the family etiquette and propriety and rules are enforced, the summoning by his father feels very formal and they all listen to him standing in silence despite having snappy inner thoughts. It’s unsure if they were largely raised together or apart, but since Maizuru was their (at least main) caretaker/governess it implies that they were imo. They were put in competition with each other for the title of heir to the house, though it’s unsure to what degree. It’s examplified by their family all having names that start with "Toshi" that the legacy is very important and thrust upon them, cogs in a machine almost. They all think the same thing when their father summons them and has a spiel, so they’re used to the same sort of treatment and they are indeed brothers for being on similar wavelengths haha.

Toshiyuki, as seen in the comic about his retainers, the poor soul sent into Darkest Dungeon, is brattish. Rude, selfish and rather lecherous, does not hesitate to be mean to his retainers and complain he wasn’t given women retainers. Visually he looks what, 14 years old top. I wonder if Maizuru stopped using her babysitter ninja art on the heirs after it traumatized Toshiro, and if so maybe that explains why Toshiyuki Knows No Fear In His Heart™️ and that’s why he can spout off stuff like that.

The retainers for the youngest brother, Toshizane, don’t seem to be as clad in ninja gear as the other two, seems like the priority is to take care of the very young young master there? Rather than truly go adventuring and dungeoneering, perhaps. Not that it’s ever said by anyone that their quest is to go into dungeons specifically, only to find something "interesting" to bring back, but both Toshiro and Toshiyuki are shown to have ended up drifting into dungeons. Toshizane looks young, I’d clock him 8 years old personally. He’s drawn looking rather innocent, especially the headshot doodle above and in the Toshitsuge complaining about his retainers comic. ALTHOUGH on the latter, interestingly as we see with Toshiro having a smug smirk in that same panel (or alternatively a smug indifferent/uncomfortable "i don’t care about this, even though you want it so much" look which at the very least is very exaggerated from how he emotes in reality), it’s Toshiyuki’s unreliable/exaggerated vision of his brothers and it doesn’t necessaeily reflect reality, though it’s still interesting to note that that’s the vision Toshiyuki has of his brothers/the impression Toshizane gives off. That can imply juicy dynamics for the brothers, for example if Toshiyuki feels as though he’s in competition with his brothers, feels superior to them, that instead of pushing the shitty family dynamic angst onto his father he puts the blame for it all onto Toshiro. Toshizane seems maybe too young to notice the tensions and seriousness around him, maybe more coddled… IS WHAT I WOULD SAY BUT in the comic where their father send them away he’s as well-behaved and serious as the others, so clearly he has a grasp on his role.

When talking about which retainers go with who, it’s said it was the father’s choice. I’d like to assume it wasn’t an airheaded/random choice. Maybe he knew that Toshiyuki would be weird about having women in his team of retainers? And wants to forge their character or protect them in the way they need. Though how Toshiro’s party only has women isn’t only pointed out and commented on by the comic with Toshitsuge but also in the main Dungeon Meshi story, both Marcille and Chilchuck going "his party is fully made up of women", one more loudly than the other haha. So it does feel like a somewhat pointed/purposeful decision, if not that the 4 girls were already a team like I mentioned.

The other retainers

Already made an analysis of Hien and Benichidori’s relationship (+ moment compilation) here. Honestly my juices are exhausted so quick rundown:

Hien’s parents both serve the Nakamotos, so she grew up with the family and was even a childhood friend of Toshiro. She assumed he and her might end up in a Maizuru-Toshitsugu situation ‘just because that’s how things are’/‘it’d be a natural development’ if we’re to believe Hien, ahh what growing up in the Nakamoto with those role models will make you believe is normal hah, and was surprised when it ended up not in that way at all. They grew more distant with time, in good part because of the professional nature of their roles in relation to each other (truly a reversal of the Maizuru-Toshitsugu situation). She’s the leader of their lil squad, under Maizuru, she’s confident and she gets the perks, like getting the bedframe in the shared inn room. For all the details just read her page. She has two dots, showing her rank as a full fledged ninja.

Benichidori was bought, by "the Nakamotos" so we don’t know who made the final decision. She’s perceptive and submissive, her specialty is implied to be disguise. She never had much contact with Toshiro before she became part of his party. She has facial dysmorphia where she fears the judgement of others if she doesn’t wear makeup and highly values beauty, in her extra her anxiety really shows and she ends up angrily snapping at Hien. Benichidori ends up taking a big liking to Hien and from there on they’re implied to be inseparable. She has two dots, showing her rank as a full fledged ninja.

Inutade is said to worship Toshitsugu because he "saved her" from her horrible life conditions, buying her personally from the sumo matches, she’s extremely grateful to the family and is happy to do any work they give her and is highly satisfied with her current living conditions. She seems to find Toshiro intimidating, though. She was separated from her parents from before she can remember and raised as a sumo wrestler in inhumane betting matches, where her front tooth broke. It seems she has very littke ambitions and dreams besides obeying orders day to day, but after Izutsumi fled away she was happy for her and mused that she’d love to go out and find her one day. They’re so besties Izutsumi gave her a dream of her own I’m sobbing… </3 She has one dot, showing she still has to be attributed her role and earn her stripes.

Their approval rating of their leader. The highest total score from all the parties.

Izutsumi

Sighh where to even begin. Her timeline was put in Maizuru’s section of this post but the rundown is "taken away from parents and turned into a beastkin" at 6 yo (the human half of her soul), "sent to a sideshow on the island of Wa" at 7 yo and bought by Toshitsugu at 10 yo when he took an interest in her when he visited the sideshow. Maizuru put the curse on Izutsumi at age 12, so from then on she always had to not stray much far from Maizuru or risk death, it’s unsure if Inutade’s extra is from before that time, before she was 12, so she could still attempt many many tries to run away. If that’s the case, then Maizuru’s curse was very much treated as a last resort, honestly beyond everything else I can see it being a pain that Maizuru would need to touch her every so often on Maizuru’s schedule as well. The alternative is that, not unlike Kabru who had no regrets dying in a dungeon rather than staying with Milsiril, she’d risk her life to get a taste of freedom. Besides, you know, being a slave and having a timebomb collar with Maizuru’s curse, her frustrations with her life with the Nakamotos is most concisely put in the comic just up above, Inutade’s extra.

She has no dot tattoo, meaning she’s at rock bottom of the hierarchy. It makes sense, since unlike Inutade she’s rebellious and needs threats to obey orders, and even then might try shifty business.

This last part where Izutsumi tries sleeping with Toshiro is most interesting to me. So she’s sought out contact with Toshiro before, she considers him "the stuck-up guy" but she doesn’t exactly hate him. I wonder if this comic is set in the inn on The Island or back at the Nakamoto household, because if that’s the latter it implies that she could get access to his room if she’s sneaky.

Oh oh also, this is fanon but since Toshiro’s weapon is one used usually on horseback, and with the steadfast and upright character of horses I associate Toshiro with horses a bit, though this is wild fanon. What’s interesting is that the plant Asebi was named after is a plant infamous for being toxic to horses. Hehe hehehe he wears a ponytail… Hm now that I think of it hairdos have importance for samurais, should look into that.

Toshiro

God. Ok. Everything was leading up to this guy. Need to split open his head like a geode and vibecheck his brain crystals. Let’s get some interesting details out of the way first.

His weapon is a tachi, not a katana. The wikipedia on tachis is more in depth if you want, but I consider the article I linked to be in deoth and digestible. Tachis are heavier and longer blades than katanas, and make for better horseback weapons than close combat. The way Toshiro uses one instead of a katakana shows that he’s extra strong… And does make sense, since most monsters won’t fight in as close quarters as human fighters. If katanas aren’t a thing in the world yet could make a difference, since tachis were invented first, and once the katana was invented and spread tachis became something more common in higher-ranking samurais. In the monster tidbit of the Hag, it’s shown that even at 6 years old Toshiro was training and learning ninja skills, his first instinct to the shikigami besides running being to fight.

Toshiro knew that Izutsumi wanted to leave, for sure. He may have been sympathetic, if his cryptic look back at her in the ‘Toshiro interacting with his party members’ page means anything. As seen below though, him being sympathetic doesn’t necessarily mean that much. Also, Toshiro had to have known about the curse on Izutsumi, where if Maizuru doesn’t touch her once in a while she’d die. "Asebi must have ran away, leave her" can be seen as subtle support for her to gain her freedom, but it could just as easily be seen as him leaving her behind to die. Because the outcome options are 1) she gets killed by Maizuru's curse, 2) she finds a way to break the spell, 3) she finds a way back to them.

He’s very conflict averse. Wether it be in relationships like with Laios or the status quo. Will not stand up for 99% things including himself. He obeys his father quietly despite his anger and dislike. This is the same guy who can't even get himself to speak up to correct the butchering of his name, the slippery slope that got him tangled in the Laios party seemingly without resistance. It’s very japanese etiquette from even nowadays, never saying a direct no to not be rude. ALSO THAT PANEL, has Toshiro beaten an ogre before?? Is that a brother of his?? Does seem in character for Toshiyuki the most, unless Toshiro was desperate to earn his father’s attention with feats. On the right I’d say the ones in the foreground are two of the brothers, maybe the third being the one to gesture to the ogre. It’s worth noting that inheritance laws during the Edo period often made the heir the son with "the most merit".

When with a goal that’s important to him he’s fine with even starving for it. Although what we see him be like that about in canon is Falin, aka self-admittedly in the post-canon proposal comic "the first person he has liked this much", which for him I feel is like admitting she’s one of the first things he has truly wanted for himself and fought for, soo… It��s more like an exceptional freaking out moment than something that would be recurring, most likely. How disheveled he got is a testament to how much he would forego propriety and rules for people of his status for the person he cares about most. Maizuru says the first personal request he’s (ever?) made was for them to help him rescue Falin.

Which ahh yes, his crush on Falin. I do think idealization plays into it, he doesn’t know Falin that well for sure, but it’s more complex than that too. Falin is pretty and can have an ethereal energy to her, she’s caring and gentle kinda motherly which Toshiro would find soothing I imagine, BUT MOST OF ALL. She’s weird!! She’s just weird enough to allow and be charmed by!! Shuro was fully shaped by his upbringing and environment of nobility, social etiquette and whatnot. Yeah she’s weird and quirky, but still quiet and sweet-mannered enough that he’s like "Yes, she wouldn’t bring shame on my family name". And why would he be charmed by her weirdness? Because all he’s ever known is rules!! Conformity, fitting in!! Unlike the others he knows, she is weird without being overbearing as well. "Woah she’s so different… She’s kind and soft and doesn’t care about fitting in… She is out of this world, she’s free, she shows me a world where tenderness and authenticity is possible…" She’s like his comfort character. MOREOVERRR I had totally forgotten about it, but Toshiro was shown watching a snail behind a bush and losing sight of everything else (like Maizuru calling him) as a kid in the Hag monster tidbit, the moment he fell in love with Falin it was when she looked enthralled at a caterpillar and he mentions how "most girls would have screamed or recoiled in disgust", and in the beach chibis page he’s crouching and collecting shells thinking about Falin… He likes bugs and crawly critters guys, he wishes he could be cottagecore too… It’s a genuine shared interest… . Someone pointed out that Toshiro & Falin’s relationship probaboy references this japanese folk tale, and I think that’s very interesting to note.

And Maizuru is like his mom but it’s a Thistle situation where they can’t just be a normal family and normal affectionate either- and when he learns about his father having a thing with her he feels weirded out. And like. Who knows how much he even got out of the mansion. He got homeschooled. He’s distant with his brothers. The family is in shambles

Shuro’s issue is that he was taught to be perfect and have the upmost respectable behavior, so if something annoys him he has to be righteous about it and that it’s the annoying thing’s fault or moral failing. Bro just let yourself be petty sometimes it’s healthier. With the feud with his father it’s explicitly stated that the pressure and expectations of the family name weigh on him a lot.

But then, that makes his beef with Laios so understandable doesn’t it. Not justified, but explained certainly.

Laios & Shuro and the whole mess coming to a head

I’ve made an analysis of the Laios-Shuro fight from Laios’ pov before, here. This is the Shuro pov analysis. Yes yes in The Fight, Shuro is dehydrated sleep-deprived and underate, he’s majorly off his rocker, BUT his frustration and the underlying issues are still things he felt on any day and it’s interesting to note.

Toshiro has been raised from his birth with the priority of propriety, nobility, etiquette, rules, conforming elegantly, appareances and reputation are everything. He’s modest, humble, quiet, stays in his lane and bottles all his feelings up. Wait who is this loud guy coming up to me being inconsiderate and loud af?? Does he not see me blinking in morse code that I’m not enjoying this and want him to leave?? Was he raised in a barn?? He’s overbearing and rude and way too friendly- He’s weird wtf! Not conforming to basic etiquette is illegal??! And people just… Let him do whateve he wants?? He lives well, no one stops him or kills him?? What the fuck, I’ve followed rules and etiquette thoroughly all my life, and it’s thankless work I get no recognition for, meanwhile he gets to be oblivious af and do whatever he wants without getting clapped?? Resentment, frustration, dislike, anger anger anger, jealousy.

Laios might even remind Toshuro of his dad in a way, because he SEEMS impulsive and like he does whatever he wants without a care to people around him, without thinking of how it might affect them. Doing things without thinking through the Implications. And interestingly this is a bit paralleled to to how Shuro is serious, strict, and big on the duties that come with having a leader role and the family dynamic it brings, like Laios’ own father, who Laios also dislikes… Dealing with his anger towards Laios, especially knowing that Laios doesn’t mean anything bad by it like Toshiro admits, is probably very healing to him. He stops repressing and thinks through his issues a bit, realizes what parts of his life he’s unhappy with and where all the negative feelings come from. I do think he bottles up his dislike for his father a bit, he has to at least for appearances. His beef with Laios is repackaged internalized anger for his father, but it’s ALSO repackaged frustration from his etiquette-bound lifestyle. He says it himself, when Laios is like "You never told Falin how you feel…? Alright, when I can I’ll tell her for you buddy!!", "that’s the part of you that I envy". Laios’ ability to just come out and say what he wants to, what he means. He wishes he could be free of all the rules more, that he had te courage to speak out, like with Inutade, or talking things out with Maizuru, or nit having to act like he’s not angry with his father. This narrative point of Toshiro envying Laios’ ability to say things freely and being frustrated by not being able to himself is ESPECIALLY examplified by their first interactions, the basis of their relationship: Laios enthusiastically befriending him, giving him a bad nickname and roping him into joining his party, with Toshiro never turning it all down despite wanting to, too hesitant to act possibly rude.

And now is time for the laishuro addendum… Because of personal experiences it’s a bit of a sensitive spot to me so while I see timelines in which I enjoy it I’m very picky… This is all further theorizing from me btw I’m not pushing my view here onto ppl as facts, but I think there’s more interesting bits and scenarios to bite into here. Laishuro has very cute and sweet potential. I personally don’t see the "Oh wait Laios is just girl Falin… 😳" angle because to me if anything that’d just make Shuro disillusioned with Falin lol, but like yes make Shuro learn that it’s ok to be weird with Laios 🥺 They DO have differences first of all, important ones, especially from Toshiro’s perspective. Laios is overwhelming, whereas Falin is soothing. Laios is loud and asks things of him where Falin is a calm, quiet presence. Laios pushes himself onto Toshiro, whereas Falin is content on just doing her own thing in her corner alone.

Hot take but the ultimate laishuro timeline is the one where he DOESN’T bring Laios back home, because he knows he’ll be seen as an oddity and clown by his father, and he doesn’t want Laios to be treated like the tapdancing monkey there to please and entertain his father the way he himself has always kind of been. Wouldn’t inflict that onto someone he loves. He can recognize when people are taken advantage of (mostly) like Inutade, and it doesn’t settle right with him. He might be especially sensitive to it in Inutade’s case because it’s about seeing his dad in a better light than he deserves, though. His father is his weak spot, THE weak spot.

It gets me so emotional thinking about it actually because seeing Laios played like a fiddle by his father, Laios so happy to find someone who’s enthusiastically listening to him ramble and engaging, would destroy Shuro emotionally I think. Like. On one hand being like "Oh of course my dad would find Laios fun, unlike me his boring son", super angry as coping mechanism for his intense sadness of not having positive parental attention, and then on the other he’d see Laios being treated as a clown and identify with it and that would remind him of how he gets treated similarly which he’s in denial about (more or less, but since he puts up with the family rules and follows along he hasn’t given up on getting recognition. He wants his father’s approval, and he couldn’t blame Laios for being happy with it despite how hurtful that attention truly is without Laios’ knowledge), which would be such an overwhelming conflicted mess of emotions and his worldview would shatter a bit because he has to repress it all even now, and he’d have a breakdown.

And similar deal but if he brought Falin home… Bc ok yes he idealizes her and doesn’t even know her all that well, but like I said imo what he sees in her is that "Woah she’s so different… She’s kind and soft and doesn’t care about fitting in… She is out of this world, she’s free, she shows me a world where tenderness and authenticity is possible…" So meanwhile with Laios he’d have mixed feelings on him getting treated like a clown and identify with it, bringing Falin home and having her be demeaned would be like having his perfect comfort character dunked on and he gets reminded that the world can’t have anything good actually. With both Toudens it’d make his resentment towards his father even worse, he might snap. I’m not the biggest on gendered analysis tbh but Kui evidently does like to do it to some degree, with the genderbending changing their life considerably and different fantasy cultures having different gender roles and all, but Shuro idealizing the Touden sister as something perfect he cannot attain while being jealous and frustrated at Laios for being something he cannot attain is like. So compelling actually. With Maizuru’s hannya of female rage weaponized there could be a theme of pushing the blame and responsibilities of things onto women too, the responsibility to raise and to manage and to dish out the work and to clean after mens’ reckless decisions. Anyways just a tangent.

Shuro on a bad family angst day is everything I love in a blorbo… He can be a lil shitty as a treat to make his healing arc more fulfilling. Toshiro snapping after he sees how they treat Laios/Falin and he gives up the family headship to LEAVE. Maizuru arc where she has to choose between loyalty to the clan and loyalty to Toshiro, will she stay with the boy she raised or go home… To me Maizuru is much less sympathetic than Shuro, but she is pretty tragic and her selfless love for Shuro is her one redeeming quality. Babygirl take no shit no more, but also better yourself and turn your life around please and thank you… She is so evidently taken advantage of but like. What else does she have? So she just takes care of and loves the boy she raised like her own kid and goes about her daily life in servitude and doesn’t think too much about it all.

Shuro is awful a nickname but also, I think Shiro would be a good nickname for Toshiro, because it gets rid of that ‘Toshi’ first part of his name that all the male members of his family share. It severes the link to his father and the tied pressure from his family.

Laishuro brotp turning slow burn romance would be so lovely. I think college au for laishuro would be peak actually… Shuro so is the repressed "I am so normal" guy who has a furry liberation identity crisis arc… I also quite like the potential he’d have with Namari, as both work-oriented misfit foreigners cast out of their homes, and she’s also bolder so it’d be good for him, and he could bring her stability… That’s a topic for another day tho. Even he and falin are sweet tbh, they could have traveled around together even if just as friends… Bc yeah she does value him as a friend at least somewhat, she says she’ll visit him~! Mostly I want Izutsumi-Toshiro brotp fancontent.

Conclusion

The household is very hierarchy oriented, and honestly the system doesn’t seem to make anyone happy, or at least not healthily so. Sighh feudalism.

Obviously their situation are very different, but still Toshiro and Izutsumi react to the same conflict in opposite ways: when a hierarchy and lifestyle of rules and duty is thrust upon them, Toshiro obeys and believes that it’s how things simply are, always having it been drilled into him since being a baby and being privileged enough to live ok with things as they are, meanwhile Izutsumi rages and eventually breaks free and never wants to submit herself to rules or hierarchy ever again, even if that perceived hierarchy is a mutually beneficial professional party dynamic or having a role inside a well-meaning team, like Laios’ party. WHICH IS WHY THEY SHOULD HANG OUT AND HAVE AN ARC TOGETHER. LET HER INFLUENCE HIM TO GET WILDER AND THINK OF HIMSELF MORE. FUCK INHERITING THE HEADSHIP. THE SIBLINGS NARRATIVE.

As always if I find more stuff to add i’ll edit it in. Rn I’m thinking that I’ll look into ninja & samurai feudal history and try to find specific terms that might fit their roles and situations more. I should reread the first chapter with them to try and notice the hierarchy at play more, sigh, and Izutsumi’s end of the Toshiro-Izu dynamic as well.

Ah yes yes, I forgot to talk about it but we don’t know what Toshiro’s retainers have been doing with their time on The Island, especially while he was dungeon diving with Laios and co. Ah although in the anime’s ed in this shot we see them "stealthily" follow him around, so presumably when he’s not in dungeons they’re tailing his moves.

Afterword here, it has summary charts about the power structure & relationships and complementary pages and artworks, couldn’t put them in here because SIGH 30 pictures per post limit.

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hongjoongsart · 2 months

Text

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | Choi San

💐 IMPORTANT: Re-upload from my deleted account (hongjoongspoetry).

💐 Summary: Being a mother wasn’t an item on your bucket list, never has and probably never will be. You were more than content with living a childless life and it wasn't an occurring issue before, until you brought your boyfriend on a trip to your parents’ where his love for kids unveiled right in your face. You were adamant on your choice, but scared what the future held for you and your boyfriend.

💐 Pairing(s): idol!San x f!reader

💐 Genres/Tropes: tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, a lil suggestive

💐 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), mentions of pregnancies, arguments, explicit language, expectations that come with being a woman, reader doesn't want babies, pushy family, emotional invalidation, listed pregnancy side effects, san with kids

💐 Wordcount: 12.2K

💐 Author's note: Here's a lil treat inspired by my fear of pregnancies. I am not a mother and I'm not trying to offend anyone who is. I haven't experienced motherhood so I wouldn't understand the complicit feelings that come with it, this is more my observation of it I guess.

Edited 22 January, 2024!

AO3 Playlist Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent San in any way or form.

Babies weren’t foreign to you even at the age of five.

You knew what they were; you had been one, your parents and siblings too, heck every living thing had been a baby at one point in their life. From the carrots growing in your grandma’s garden to the old ducks swimming in the pond down the street.

Babies were cute. A bit annoying, but nonetheless cute. Probably the reason why your parents decided to have so many children or was it the nostalgia of holding an infant when their kids grew up to be living ticking time bombs.

It wasn’t anything weird or something you paid attention to. It was quite simple too; people had children because they fell in love or to keep the relationship floating.

Children were simple beings. What they hear they shall question. Seeing your teacher highly pregnant, rubbing her stomach and wearing a gleeful expression, talking about birth and pregnancies and everything else coming with that had you taking in the information like a sponge absorbing water.

“Mom, did you give birth to me?”

“Of course, honey, I am your mom aren’t I?” You remember her gently wiping your cheek, a warm smile adorning her face.

You hummed in agreement, throwing a cut piece of steak in your mouth somewhat satisfied with her answer. Your eyes filtered between Hana and Jun, watching them push at each other’s shoulders clearly bickering over something so pointless your dad couldn’t bother stopping them. Not that it was possible, they were brought into this world together and separating them would only bring more chaos.

“Did you give birth to Hana-unnie and Jun-oppa too?”

“Yah! What do you think, airhead?!” Jun snarkily replied and got a light whack of the head by your sister.

“Sweetie, don’t hit your brother.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Even if he deserves it?”

“Even if he deserves it,” your father concluded and urged them to eat.

Another piece of meat was flung in your mouth as you stared at the family portrait behind the twins, focusing on your other siblings who moved out a long time ago and already started their own families. Your mother saw the bemused tingle covering your features.

“Go on and eat your food.”

A small pout adorned your lips, “How do you give birth?”

Your parents were more than prepared for the wonders of your mind, any question fired at them had already been answered years ago with your older siblings. That’s what they thought at least and it explained why the dinner table went pin silent as the question was flung out in the open.

The seasons changed like your father changed channels. Spring fluttered into summer quicker than expected. Budded flowers opened, the various colored roses adorning your grandma’s fence beautifully. The breeze welcomed you with open arms, proudly announcing the start of summer break. The transition between summer and autumn was slow. The rich green leaves took their time changing shades – red, orange and eventually an ugly brown that reminded you of wet mornings and cold coffees – before the howling wind swirled them away, stripping the trees of its beauty.

As the years passed your My Little Pony boots were replaced with wedge heels and your favorite color wasn’t pink, but black – even though Jun argued black wasn’t a color – and before you knew it Hana moved out with her boyfriend, now husband, of six years. A small but evident baby bump peeking behind her knitted sweater.

You were seventeen at that time, the twins twenty-two and your remaining siblings already thirty-something.

Her baby girl wasn’t the first grandchild of your family tree and she certainly wasn’t going to be the last either, because four years later she welcomed another child into the world just a couple of months before your brother’s wife. That made a grand total of seven grandkids, three girls and four boys.

You were very grateful to your mom for giving birth to you last and grateful for the free birth control your siblings provided you with. Despite their children having moments of incarnating the devil, they weren’t the issue to your disdain of want for a baby.

Some said it was the lack of a boyfriend and others pointed out you being too focused on your academic studies – that your decision to start university was too hasty – depriving you of your youth, as if a newborn wouldn’t.

You saw what motherhood did to your sisters and in-laws, and it wasn’t anything you’d like for yourself. Not even after meeting your boyfriend, who you were madly in love with and he was completely head over heels for you, did your perception change.

Babies were cute to look at, but growing one inside of you? No thanks.

You glanced at San through the bathroom mirror, white shaving cream around his face.

“Don’t you have filming with the Return of Superman today?”

“Yep, have to make sure the beard doesn’t scratch the kids.”

You laughed again, “Beard? I haven’t seen you with a stub in how many months now, let alone a beard.”

Your eyes met in the reflection, one of his brows raised and lips puckered as if contemplating something. He then let go of the razor and gently took hold of your waist and neck, pressing his sticky cheek against yours. You yelled out and tried to push him away, but he barely moved.

“What did you say about my beard?”

“You have a beautiful beard! So pretty and well-kept!”

San smiled brightly, dimples popping and eyes creasing as he planted a wet kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you baby!”

The white cream was washed off with extreme care, as he was afraid of wetting your clothes and hair.

“There you go.” He threw on a gray hoodie, black hair slightly disheveled but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with you running your hand through it.

“I’d say thanks, but you’re at fault.”

He rested his hands on your hips, thumbs sneaking underneath the white fabric of your blouse to caress the soft skin beneath. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Your twentieth lap around the world was filled with many experiences and emotions. You finally moved out of the countryside to the big city and found an apartment in the middle of Seoul. As much as you loved the feeling of freedom and independence you also despised it. Not having anyone waiting on you by the door, no home cooked meals or clean clothes neatly made on your bed reminded you of what you left behind.

Although it was hard to adapt at first you managed and with the help of a friend you quickly adjusted to the busy city life. As someone wise once said; after rain came sunshine, and your sunshine was San. The boy your friend introduced you to when you still had little to no knowledge of Korean pop groups besides the older generations and singing ring-ding-dong no repeat.

At the time he was just San, a funny and caring friend you could be yourself with, occasionally going out to secluded shops for coffee and pastries. You never questioned the scenery and request of privacy, always giving people the benefit of the doubt, until a girl stopped you on your way to a morning class with the demand you tell her who you were and what connection you had to her Sannie.

With a trembling voice you answered her truthfully, debunking any conclusions she already made up in her mind.

You didn’t go to school that day or home for that matter either, scared to be followed and questioned again by a potential lover or side-piece so you did the next best thing; stopped by a 7-eleven and spent your morning there before taking the first train to your sister’s unannounced, spilling everything like an overflowing bucket.

As the mature woman she was, she spurred you on to ask San. Saying you deserved answers to your questions and to potentially clear up any misunderstandings – if there were any of that is.

The moment you told him about the girl, he came forward with who he was, something he admitted he should’ve done immediately, but didn’t for two reasons: a) you allowed him to be himself with no walls and b) he was worried the truth would scare you away. Heck, you were already chased just by being near him and you didn’t even know anything. To your luck, the girl wasn’t his girlfriend or a crazy ex, but a fan and San was an idol.

A few weeks after his confession your friendship progressed and blossomed into a beautiful relationship. You could proudly call him yours in the privacy of your apartment and he could wrap his arm around you – face masks and caps on of course – scaring the prying eyes of other men. He filled your solitude with the comfort and love you missed so dearly.

“Honey, have you seen my gray hoodie? I can’t find it in your wardrobe.” San stood before your closet, torso exposed and an expensive towel you can’t remember the brand of wrapped around his hips.

You were in the kitchen brewing coffee for the both of you. A plain yet pretty dress stuck tightly to your form, “Mmm, I think it’s in the basket with all the other clean clothes.”

The taps of his bare feet filled your apartment accompanied by a gasp seconds later.

“Did you find it?”

Large arms slinked around your waist and pulled you into San’s chest, he nuzzled his nose against the bare spot on your neck before peppering it with tender pecks, “Thank you, honey.”

“Always, baby. Here’s your coffee.”

You gingerly handed him the cup, but San had other plans. Ever-so-gently he titled your head sideways as his lips met yours. It was soft and made your stomach swoop as if going down a steep roller coaster.

San had that effect on you no matter what he did.

“You have to…get dressed or…we’ll be late,” you said between kisses.

His chest vibrated against your back as he hummed in delight, “This is worth getting in trouble for.”

“I’m sure it is, but I don’t think Wooyoung will appreciate that.”

“I don’t care.”

A laugh bubbled out as you rewarded him with one last kiss to the cheek. Eventually you both parted ways. San went first, wearing an obligatory cap and mask while meeting up with his manager further down the street and you followed shortly after, taking the commute to your workplace.

“So,” you started after placing the pot on the table between your plates, immediately filling San’s, “my parents invited us to theirs next week.”

He nodded, “I think I can make it, but I’ll have to double-check with the guys and managers.”

It was the first date night in weeks where both of you were free from work and had enough energy to meet up. You originally invited all the boys, but San was keen on keeping you to himself, claiming he wanted some alone time. If it were up to him he’d see you everyday even for just five minutes, arguing that the short time could give him the motivation to work harder. In return you reminded him the journey from his dorm to your place was a thirty minute long drive without traffic, the energy he’d get would evaporate in seconds.

“It’s okay if you can’t make it, Sannie. I know you guys have a lot to do, especially with the release of your new album.”

“Mmm, don’t worry about that. We’ll see first, but I’m telling you now. I want to go.” He reached for your hand across the small table and you returned the sentiment with a squeeze before beckoning him to eat.

You took notice of his upturned lips and crescent moon eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight, San was always in a good mood and when he wasn’t he still mustered up a smile warm enough to brighten your day.

“What are you smiling about?” You teased, carrying a grin of your own.

“You should have seen the kids the other day, they were so cute.”

“Oh, it completely slipped my mind to ask. How was it?”

“It was fun and they were so, so cute. All of them really.”

“I can imagine, Sannie.”

“I don’t want to say too much, you still have to wait for the episode, but ohhh! I can’t stop smiling.”

You chuckled and enjoyed seeing your boyfriend suffer a hard case of baby fever. San loved kids, put that man near a kid and anyone in one mile radius would see it. That was how you found out.

You were babysitting your niece one random Thursday night, your brother claiming ‘you owed him’ for something you did in your childhood days that was long forgotten. San asked if you were free that same night, but you sadly turned him down, briefly explaining the situation and voilá. The date was moved from a five star restaurant to your living room with blankets and ice cream and a toddler with bigger love for Bluey than her aunt.

San’s love for kids wasn’t something he expressed with you, but rather something you saw through gentle touches and light coos, a few stolen pecks here and there.

It wasn’t an issue to you. In all honesty, it was attractive because how many men did you know who actually showed interest in their children? How many dads knew their kids’ birth dates or their favorite ice cream flavor?

And yeah, you felt the same. Your nieces and nephews were cute, especially when they wore matching clothes for Chuseok and Christmas. Don’t even get you started on their birthday costumes.

But it wasn’t enough to make you want one.

It wasn’t worth the nine month long journey of fatigue, mood swings, nausea, stretch marks and not to mention the painful process of giving birth and what came after; potentially loss of teeth, tearing the perineum, hair loss… the list is truly endless.

Not wanting kids wasn’t a problem until you stumbled into San who carried a love big enough for the whole population of South Korea.

“I can’t wait till we have kids,” San admitted as you stuffed your mouth with a spoonful of rice.

The clock hanging above the kitchen entrance didn’t freeze but you sure did. The words would make anyone squeal and melt at once, however they washed over you like a big cold wave in the atlantic ocean and sent your food into the wrong pipe. San jumped up from his seat and patted your back while opening a can of coke with his other hand.

“Drink this.” He pushed the beverage in your hands and waited to make sure you were alright. The coughing didn’t stop but at least you could breathe. “Better?”

You sent him a nod, not trusting your voice to keep its cool. San didn’t question the lack of response to his blunt statement nor why you nearly choked to death. The night ended with you two hastily filling the dish machine and cuddling together on the couch with you laying on top of him. A boring movie played on the big TV while you basked in each other’s embrace.

Halfway through the movie you cleared your throat, not being able to shake the conversation from earlier, “You want kids?”

“Not right now, but someday,” San said, one hand under his head and the other rubbing your back. He then glanced down at you. “Don’t you?”

You turned so your chin rested on his chest, noses almost touching and his peppermint breath fanning your face. The simple two letter word was stuck in your throat, and like the coward you were you swallowed them down with guilt. You shot him a quick smile and even manually crinkled your eyes to make it more believable.

Twenty minutes later and San was out like a light, the hectic schedules and plenty of sleepless nights getting to him in the end. Sleep didn’t come as easy to you. Mind too occupied with thinking, thinking and more thinking. Tears blurred your eyes and you didn't know if they were from the stuffy room or the guilt bubbling in your abdomen.

The incident was pushed under the rug in your living room, neither bringing it up again nor the topic of a future family, mainly because you were both drowning in work and adult responsibilities. The days passed in a flash and when Friday came around San was parked outside the building early in the morning, welcoming you with a preheated seat and a cup of steaming hot coffee.

“The twins and their kids are the only ones who could come. Mimi-unnie’s little ones caught the flu and Jin couldn’t get away from work.”

Coming from a rather small family and then moving in with seven men he considered brothers was quite the change for young San, so hearing that neither Mimi or Jin, and their respective families, could make it made him deflate.

“That’s unfortunate. We haven’t seen them in a long time.”

“Yeah, but at the same time I can already feel the headache coming from having seven kids running around all day.”

“That’s how Hongjoong must feel all the time.”

The image of seven twenty-something-year olds running around as toddlers and an exhausted Hongjoong not far behind them popped up in your head and brought out a laugh. Then last week’s phone call with your mother interrupted the vision and you got serious again.

“Did you bring spare clothes? Mom said they were warning of a rainstorm.”

“Yep. It’s in the trunk with your things.”

Your hands rested on your lap and San, feeling the need to touch you, gently intertwined your fingers with his and placed a kiss to the back of your hand. He occasionally withdrew when changing gears before resuming his hold. The ride was long and by the time you arrived you were exhausted despite not doing anything but passing San snacks every once in a while.

Squeals of joy and multiple little feet padding against the hardwood floor had your lips curling upwards as you opened the door. You crouched down and were greeted with two kids catapulting in your embrace.

“Hello little chicks,” you said and planted a kiss on the crown of their heads.

“Did you miss us?” Borah asked, her small hands tightening around your neck leaving barely any room for her little brother.

Before you could reassure her the door opened behind you and in came San, thus stealing the lovely cuddle session right from beneath your nose.

“Uncle San!”

He lifted both children in his arms and beamed at their giggles and kicking legs. You craned your head up, eyes trailing up to San’s closed ones, and your heart swelled with love. He looked like he belonged right there surrounded by tiny humans with toothless smiles and snotty noses.

A tug at your sleeve had your head whipping forwards, “Kai,” you cooed at the youngest of the batch earning a blurb of happy noises.

The hallway proceeded to be crowded by the rest of the house. Hugs and kisses were exchanged with your family and out of the corner of your eyes you could see San exchanging a firm handshake with your father.

“You’re right in time for dinner!” Your mother gleefully exclaimed and ushered you inside, the little ones slinking around her legs like overly fed kittens mooching for more food.

The first hour was spent catching up and talking about everything you’ve missed out on in each other’s lives. Your father initiated small talk with San, asking him about the drive there and if he had a lot of work even wondering how the rest of Ateez were doing. To your relief your parents treated him as their third son and your siblings weren’t opposed to the idea of another brother.

You sat in between Jun and Jisoo – his wife – giving her all of your attention. Apparently she was in the middle of her second trimester, something you just found out. You sent Jun a quick glare and a whack to the back of his head, and as he was about to fight back he slumped back in his seat all thanks to the stern eyes of his wife.

“Here let me help you, mom.”

San ventured into the open kitchen and took the plates from your mother’s hands. She tried stopping him but it was to no avail, once a gentleman, always a gentleman. So she did the next best thing.

“Are you not embarrassed Jun? Sitting on your rear while the guests prepare the table!”

“I’m a guest too?!” He cried and Jisoo stifled a laugh behind her palm, the other hand rubbing her swollen belly.

“Yah, guest my ass. It’s your house as much as it’s mine so get over here before I rip your ear off.”

San stood by the table and waited for another chance to interfere, or as Jun liked to call it ‘buttering up to the in-laws’. You creeped up behind San and leaned your cheek against his bicep.

“You good?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your head. If someone knew what it meant to be separated from family then it was San, having not seen his own parents in how many years now?

“I’m perfect,” you replied and discreetly created some space between you as the rest of the family entered the kitchen.

Unlike San, you weren’t very keen on showing public affection especially as you guys never did it due to him being a literal celebrity. You had no problem showering him with love behind closed doors, but it was different with so many people around and in front of your parents nonetheless. That was just forbidden, almost illegal in your books.

As if they hadn’t done the deed at least four times–

“Well go on, why are you standing there like sheep waiting for Lassie.”

Everyone swammered the table per your mother’s request. You, San and Borah sat on one side of the table with your mother and father on each end, and Jun, Jisoo and Hana across from you.

“How is work, sweetie?”

You faced your mother as she filled your plate with food and you practically tore the spatula from her hands.

“It’s good. There’s a lot now that people are on vacation, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’ve always been a hard worker,” she grumbled. “And how are you otherwise?”

Your brows furrowed, “I’m great too. What do you mean?”

She stared you dead in the eyes, making sure you were looking at her too, and flickered her gaze down to your stomach and back up again three times.

“I am healthy.”

The bite you tried to hide slipped out and she couldn’t help but scoff.

“Of course you’re healthy. I don’t give birth to sick babies.”

You don’t know when your mother turned so…sour. When her gentle touches turned to pinches and words of endearment became sneers of displeasure. Over one summer she had changed drastically and called every two to three weeks, asking the same questions, hoping for different answers.

“At least someone here is eating for two.”

The sentence struck you right in the heart and it bothered you how easily she got under your skin. As if prioritizing yourself brought shame on your whole family tree, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a soccer team of grandkids already.

Your sister-in-law smiled timidly and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her being put in the spotlight just because of your mother’s pettiness.

“Oh, that reminds me, San-ah! We watched your Return of Superman episode,” Hana said excitedly.

“Who do you like more, uncle San, me or Jaeyul?”

“Mmm, that is a hard question, Borah. How about this, I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret?”

The five year old immediately nodded and San – keeping his promise – gently whispered in her ear, “You.”

A gasp slinked out of her lips and she threw her hands over her mouth, the two exchanged a look and San made a zipping motion over his lips, a gesture Borah copied.

“Wah, you’re so good with kids San-ah,” Jun complimented.

“I was just about to say that! We couldn’t stop smiling, it was so endearing. All of you, really,” your sister added and pushed her thick glasses up against her nose.

San straightened at the praise. A dust of red covered his face accompanied with a bright smile.

“I just love kids.”

“Then it’s about time you get some, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”

Your body tensed and your grip on the spoon tightened. Your mother talked about the matter as if babies were truly delivered by storks and not an almost year long process. You kept your gaze on your plate, not daring to meet anyone’s stares, not when you could feel San’s bore into the side of your face. You two had yet to talk about the future and it wasn’t something you were ready for, especially not after his random burst of baby fever.

San cleared his throat, “Well I’d rather first put a ring on your daughter’s finger, if that’s alright with her.”

Oh, how you loved this man.

You didn’t need things to be official to know how you felt about San. A scribble of paper and a ring on your finger wouldn’t make your love more real, but you knew if San asked the big question you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

Heat ran through you, from the center of your heart to the tips of your toes, and it was hard to suppress the smile fighting its way on your face. The twins ‘oh-ed’ loudly, Jun even made the table into a makeshift drum as Borah and Jisoo jumped on the teasing wagon. Your father smiled at the scene before him. It was about time you got married, he thought but kept it to himself. Your mother on the other hand wasn’t all too pleased. As much as she wanted you to marry before conceiving, she didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary and with how your life was going, a marriage wasn’t an event in any of her five future calendars.

“Are we supposed to call you Mrs. Choi now?”

A hard smack resounded in the house with a groan.

The dinner ended with no more personal questions about your and San’s relationship as all the attention was diverted to Jun and Jisoo’s unborn baby. Now you were all gathered in the living room, except for Jisoo who long passed out in Jun’s childhood bedroom.

“Auntie.” Borah grabbed at your elbow, her legs stretched over your thighs as she sat in San’s lap with her head resting against his chest.

“Yes, flower?”

Her eyes were droopy and she barely stayed awake despite the loud conversation of the adults. You inched closer to her to easily decipher her slurring words.

“I wanna sleep with you and uncle San.”

“Mmm, you want to cuddle with us?” She nodded tiredly. “Lemme ask uncle San first, okay flower?”

You caressed her hair and she smacked her lips before readjusting herself in San’s arms. Despite balancing between sleep and consciousness she was determined to know his answer.

It didn’t take much more than a gentle ‘Sannie’ for you to catch his attention, “Borah wants to sleep in our bed. Is that alright with you?”

He glanced down at the usually sugar rushed child and chuckled at her passed out form. “Of course. Here, I’ll tuck her in.”

While he went upstairs, easily navigating through the house from the previous visits, you stepped foot in the kitchen. The dishes from the dinner had just been pushed aside by your mother as she was dead set on everyone spending more time together, not allowing anyone entry in the kitchen unless it was to get more food.

Although she was challenging your patience for the past five hours, you still loved her dearly so washing the dishes was the least you could do without blatantly saying it.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Speak of the devil and they shall appear.

“Nothing, making your life easier.”

“Oh, please. My life hasn’t been any easier since you moved out. Constantly worrying about you.”

“Really, mom? There’s nothing to worry about plus it’s not like I’m alone. I have San.” You rinsed a plate and stacked it on the rack to your left.

“I know…That’s what I’m afraid of.”

A glass nearly slipped out of your hands. Your confused eyes met her worried ones and you bit the inside of your cheek, not really understanding what she was getting at.

“Why…I’m sorry, what are you exactly…afraid of?”

The anxiety grew like weeds in your mind at her gentle whisper of your name. Did she not like San? But that was impossible; she practically referred to him as her favorite son-in-law.

“Don’t you think it’s time you two get serious?”

“Okay!” You dropped the sponge in the sink and placed your soapy hands on your hips. “You really need to stop talking in riddles or my head is going to explode from anxiety.”

“There you go again with that anxiety. It’s not real!”

“Nope! Don’t try to change the subject. Say what you really mean or just stop talking, mom I swear it’s the only chance I’m giving you to be outright honest with me.”

A beat of silence passed and then another. Just as you thought she was backing down, the second most outrageous thing of the day came out of her mouth.

“Get married to San before he leaves you for someone else.”

You scoffed, “Unbelievable. You’re unbelievable.”

The rag hanging off your shoulder was snatched as you used it to dry your hands, but the anger proved that to be difficult so you bolted up to your room, not bothering with bidding anyone a good night’s sleep. You just needed to get away from the tension downstairs and, believe it or not, you craved San’s comfort.

Anger clouded your vision and all rational thoughts were pushed aside as you threw the door open, scaring San and nearly arousing little Borah. As much as you wanted to slam it shut, you couldn’t. Instead you did the childish-angry thing where you swing the door with all your might and stop it just as it was about to close and create an atomic-like explosion.

San rose from his comfortable position on the pink fluffy carpet that teenage-you chose, eyes wide in alarm and arms reaching for you.

He had changed out of the black hoodie and gray suit pants and into something more comfortable; a satin black pajamas you gifted him for Valentine’s day with a pair of semi-rimless glasses perched on his nose. Something about the look made him so domestic your anger nearly disappeared into thin air.

“Woah, woah. What’s wrong?”

You hid your face in your hands and San wasted no time taking you in his arms, bringing your body close to him. The motion had you sighing deeply as you exhaustively sunk into his embrace. San didn’t push for an answer and for that you were grateful. He rubbed your back and kissed your temple, nose and cheek.

“It’s my mom,” you eventually whispered.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You didn’t move at first, weighing your options. Sharing the harsh words of your mom would lead to a conversation you weren’t ready to take. So you shrugged and clasped your hands around his torso.

“Yes and no.”

“Okay, come here.”

He gave you another kiss before moving you so your back was against his chest and shuffled over to the bed. He sat down by Borah’s feet, careful not to wake her, and pulled you between his legs dangling over the edge of the queen sized bed. His hands found home on your stomach immediately easing you off your anger.

“We’ll do whatever you feel like. We can talk about it if you want or I can just listen to you, but if you don’t want to we won’t. We can find something else to do. It’s up to you, honey.”

You took his hands in yours and examined his each and every finger. A wave of nervousness washed over you and a distraction was needed to untangle your tied tongue.

“She just said some…mean things I guess.”

“About you?”

You nodded silently. “About us.”

San hummed and you honestly expected a stronger reaction, but you should’ve known better.

He was rational and never really lashed out, at least not that you knew of. You’d never seen him angry enough to act on it.

“She didn’t mean anything ill thought, but you were the starting point of it.”

“Look at me?”

As you faced him his eyes immediately found yours and in them were swirls of pure affection and sincerity.

“I love you.”

The skin on your cheeks burned hot and your lips curled into an embarrassed smile. The confession sent a magic tingle through your body.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he said again, not satisfied with your response.

“I love you too, Sannie.”

“Good. Don’t worry ‘bout what your mom says. I love you and nothing will change that.”

Reassuring words and mellow touches.

“Nothing?”

Not even your fear of childbirth?

Or the idea that the two of you never may have children?

“Nothing, my love.”

And if he noticed the turn your smile took – going from happy to sad – he didn’t mention it. Because despite everything you couldn’t stop the gnawing thoughts of dread and what if’s from filling your mind.

“Did you watch the episode?”

“What episode?”

“The one of Seonghwa-hyung, Woo and I with the kids.”

Right, that one.

At first you didn’t purposely push it back on your agenda but the more you remembered his wish of starting a family the more chores you suddenly had to do and oh, that pile of paperwork could certainly not wait until after the weekend and when you actually had the time to watch it your phone would ping with a billion messages, every single one coming from San who insisted he craved to hear your voice and see your ‘absolutely angelic face’ – his words.

So no. You hadn’t seen it.

“Ah, really?” He laughed at the speed you shook your head. “Well, let’s watch it together.”

“Now?”

“Mmm. Unless you don’t wanna?”

“Oh– Uhm, no! Go ahead, I’ll just change into something comfortable.”

Why he brought his laptop for a two day journey, you had no idea but apparently it worked in his favor because there you were laying on the side closest to the wall with Borah snuggled between you guys while the laptop was perched on San’s stomach, the episode playing in full swing.

Every interaction with the twins or Jaeyul made your guts twist and clench. You had to admit it was cute; so cute that your dinner almost went back up the same way it came from. You felt so bad and the worst of it all was the guilt that followed, the guilt of knowing you weren’t doing anything wrong yet you’d still be treated as if you were.

And it was such a shitty situation, because how come that the man who’d single-handedly light up each and every star for you, also was the one to summon the clouds obscuring the night sky?

You didn’t notice San’s lingering eyes or the way his fingers itched to hold yours or the three word long question resting on his tongue. Not that he was being obvious about it. Whenever you looked at him he’d flash you that derpy smile of his and a reassuring blink that lasted a second too long.

It may have been unclear to you, but nothing passed your radar of a brother. He did have the maturity of a boy going through early stages of puberty, but you had to give it to him, he was observant. Too observant for his own good.

“What’s going on with you and lover boy?”

Thanks to Jun’s stupidity you both were honored with dish-duties. What you didn’t know was that it was all a part of his masterplan.

“What?”

“I don’t know I’m the one asking you.”

You glared at him and he wordlessly took the clean tray from you.

“I’m just saying, we dudes, we see when something’s wrong.”

“So something’s wrong with San?”

“Not with San.” He put the tray in place and threw the rag over his shoulder, painfully dragging out the conversation, “With you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me?”

“Mm-mm, there is. You’re all tense and silent, and anytime someone mentions a baby you do this thing where you disapp– Yeah, just like that!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at your face void of emotion.

“I’m just not feeling it today.”

A gasp left his mouth and he looked around almost alarmed. “Don’t tell me you’re…pregnant?” He whispered the last word as if it was a crime that could sentence you to life in prison.

Out of sheer surprise and terror you smacked the side of his head.

“Are you out of your mind?!” You hissed back.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“It is a no!”

“Okay, don’t hit me again!” As you raised your arm he simultaneously threw his hands up to shield himself from your wrath.

A third party watched the banter from the living room, his feet tucked under his thighs in a pretzel motion and tongue poking at his cheek. The three years you spent together, from the platonic start to the blossoming romance, granted you more knowledge of each other than anyone else.

San noticed your change in behavior at the dinner table last night, after the talk with your mother and as you cozied up to him in bed. At first he brushed it off as jitters for not being home for so long and the overwhelming emotions of finally meeting everyone again, but the more he thought of it the more he realized it wasn’t like you. And he promised himself to ask you about it, he just needed to find the perfect moment when you weren’t being swammered by everyone else which proved to be nearly impossible. If you weren’t hounded by your mother or bothered by your siblings, then you were stuck with the little ones and their sticky fingers.

“San-ah.”

Hana brought him out of his thoughts.

“Do you ever see yourself having kids?”

The question threw him off guard because wasn’t it obvious? What more could he want than to start a family with the love of his life?

“Of course, but it’s not something we’ve gotten around yet. We’re not rushing anywhere either!”

Hana nodded and took a long sip of her chamomile tea. There was something so uneasy with her watchful eyes and the slight purse of her lips that had San thinking a little too much to his liking.

Was he missing something?

And he really shouldn’t have asked, prod at her interest and start something he wasn’t sure he was ready for but being the curious cat he was, San couldn't help himself.

“If you don’t mind, why are you asking?”

“Mmm…you see, she’s not the brightest when it comes to children.”

That sentence sounded like an unstrung guitar being played with a dull rock underwater. If San remembered correctly, you shone the brightest around your nieces and nephews. There was never a dull moment with them, always bringing you to tears from laughing too much. He saw you with them; you were gentle, thoughtful and careful, and he was certain it had nothing to do with you sharing the same blood.

San must have looked confused because Hana spluttered out an explanation, her hands waving around at the speed of light.

“I’m just saying that because I know how you’re with kids. Anyone can see you love them and I know it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“What wouldn’t be fair?”

“Not having kids,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

San wanted to ask more questions yet he decided to hold his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to see the complete puzzle anyways and he knew the missing piece could only be received from one person – you.

“It’s a mutual concern of ours and we are just looking out for you.” She gave him a few pats of comfort, for what he had yet to find out, “God knows my husband would be devastated if I didn’t want kids.”

San listened silently, the frown on his face deepening with each word.

Did your sister not want kids?

He followed her line of vision leading straight to you and then it hit him.

You didn’t want kids.

The images of San holding a toddler that was the spitting image of him; a head too big for its body, chubby cheeks and faint brows, haunted you every night. Some dreams were more vivid than others, but they were never the same. The most recent one was of the three of you taking a walk in the park. The little girl sat on San’s shoulders wearing a purple hat with cat ears while you trailed behind them, a matching bag around your shoulder and a camera in your hands. As San turned around you caught a glimpse of their bright smiles and identical dimples. The girl saw you and stretched her arms out, a giddy ‘mom!’ tumbling out of her mouth.

That’s when you woke up in a puddle of sweat. You could barely catch your own breath as you jumped out of bed, nearly toppling to the floor in the process.

A cloud of guilt and shame loomed over you for various reasons. Mainly for dreaming of a future you could not see for yourself. It got to the point where you stayed up all night just to avoid the dreams. You picked up more shifts at the office, working late nights and early mornings, and it was a success until you cleared your whole schedule. Then came the idea of starting a new hobby; crocheting but your patience ran out rather quickly, who knew learning a double crochet would be so difficult?

Your guilty conscience affected your relationship with San too. Dates were painfully awkward as if you were a high school couple going on your first outing together, stealing shy glances and looking away as soon as your eyes met.

Then it was the skinship, whenever you accidentally touched fingers or feet collided underneath the dinner table, you’d withdraw so quickly as if burned by the scorch of a hundred suns. It was almost foreign to cuddle up on the couch too, San’s hands on your lower back and your cheek against his chest. At first you didn’t think he noticed the change in your behavior, but as you laid on top of him you could feel his heart rapidly beat in your ear and hands ghost over your skin, a trail of goosebumps following his faint touch.

Neither dared to speak up about the thick tension, assuming it would all go away in due time but the closer you got to the date of Ateez leaving for their tour in Latin America, the less likely it was to subdue.

Little did you know San wasn’t feeling any better himself. Hana’s words played in his head on a loop, creating new presumptions of what she meant. She wasn’t that straightforward with her message and San could’ve either pieced together the wrong information or been completely spot on. He’d never know if he never asked, which proved to be harder than expected.

The few times your schedules aligned you were interrupted by San’s phone – Seonghwa and Mingi checking if he was dining at yours or with them – and if it weren’t that then it was something else. The days he made sure nothing could interrupt he’d chicken out last minute and smoothly avert the attention to anything remotely more interesting.

“Did you see Mingi’s new hair color?”

“I made Jongho promise to teach you how to break an apple in half!”

“Yeosang wants to buy a puppy!”

The confidence San possessed on stage in front of thousands was plummeting to the ground. Hard and fast. It honestly baffled him how much control one person could hold over him. Not that he complained, who was supposed to make his knees weak and brain all mushy besides you?

Knees weak and mushy brain was exactly how he felt as you opened the door, revealing yourself. You wore a black and white striped sweater with a black skirt stopping midthigh. The top was slightly big so you tucked it in your skirt. A small dark bag hung over your shoulder matching your leather boots. Simple yet elegant jewelry adorned your fingers and ears. You topped it off with black see-through stockings and black coat.

“Is this too much for a night out?”

You were stunning.

“It’s perfect, babe.”

He handed you a beautiful bouquet of pink and red roses mixed with fillers, the brown paper gave them an old school look. You suppressed a squeal of joy and took the flowers from him, planning to put them in a vase, but not before planting a quick and shy kiss to the apple of his cheek. Your lipstick smeared on his skin almost camouflaging with the redness crawling up his neck, attacking his ears and cheeks, luckily for him you bolted to the kitchen, embarrassed at your own gesture.

You truly were like a pair of high schoolers, but for once you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Perhaps it was your consciousness pushing the thoughts away for the night as it was your last date before San left overseas.

“Ready to go?”

San was breathtaking.

It was no surprise that your boyfriend was a work of art, but there was something different about him tonight. Dark slacks accented his hard thighs a black turtleneck covered his bulging arms and slim waist with a gray coat hung snuggly over his frame reaching his calves. You always said his natural hair color suited him the best and it was true, especially when it was slicked back with a few strands falling over his exposed forehead.

You gulped harshly, “Yup.”

You placed your hand in his and smiled as his fingers thread through yours like the roots of a tree becoming one with the earth. Giddy smiles hid behind your masks but the sparkle in your eyes was brighter than the night sky and its million stars.

San stuffed your woven hands in the pocket of his large coat for the short walk to his manager’s car and then his hand found its long lost place on your thigh during the drive to your favorite restaurant.

You were addicted to his reassuring words and mellow touches.

San held his breath and was fully prepared to feel your body still at the skinship or for you to slowly pull away, but when you did the complete opposite – tightening your hold on his hand – he exhaled in relief.

The restaurant was made for celebrities to have somewhere to go and enjoy their time without noisy people and overbearing fans. They even had a no phone policy to maximize the safety and privacy of everyone inside, that way the possibility of scandals coming out were zero to none. It wasn’t everyday you went on expensive dates for obvious reasons, mainly because of San’s schedule but also because you felt bad for him paying every time. It was no secret San earned more money than you, being a literal idol, but you still made it work somehow.

For the first time in a while you felt good beside him. The unsettling dreams and thoughts of the future were as if non-existent and you didn’t want it any other way, at least for the night. Halfway through your second glass of wine San started blabbering about the tour. You wouldn’t say he was drunk, but rather relaxed.

“So where are you going first?”

He thought for a minute, “Mexico, Brazil, Chile and then Colombia.”

“Isn’t it your first time performing there? That must be exciting!”

“Mhm, I can’t wait to see our Latin American Atinys. I know some of them have been with us since predebut. Honestly I’d travel around the world just to meet them all.”

“That’d be the dream wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “It’d be even better if you were there with me.”

His small pout and glistening eyes made you laugh, “Because that’d be such a good idea. I can bet all my life savings it would end up in a disaster one way or another.”

“What? Why?”

You placed your utensils down, “San, honey. I don’t think you realize how popular you are, like all of twitter wants to fuck you.”

San stopped mid chewing, his eyes wide and brows raised to the roof. The loading wheel appeared above him and he smiled embarrassingly as your words finally registered, his teeth white but the tips of his ears burned red.

“Yah, don’t say that.” He suddenly looked away as if he wasn’t showered with compliments on a daily basis.

“Well it’s Atinys’ words, not mine.”

“You jealous?”

The cheekiness didn’t go unnoticed by you so in an equally teasing tone, you replied, “I can’t be jealous of something I actually get to do.”

And if there was anything better than a tipsy San then it was a flustered one.

“You shy, baby?”

He shook his head with a little ‘no’ that barely reached your ears.

The rest of the date was perfect – much to your surprise – and not once did the guilt ridden thoughts infiltrate your mind, not even when you passed a happy couple pushing a stroller on your way home or when you saw, what must have been, the biggest smile of the night on San’s handsome face. For a split second you thought everything would work out in the end. You’d overcome this obstacle just like you did with the move to Seoul or with the test you nailed after months of pulling all-nighters. But only for a split second because as the clock struck midnight your night took an unexpected turn with it.

“You need a place to stay for the night?” It came out more suggestive than you intended, however you didn’t mind.

“I don’t know, did you plan to sleep tonight?”

Your pointer finger rested against your chin as you pretended to think.

“If that’s the case then you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

A pair of very familiar hands grabbed your hips sending an electric feeling through your body despite the skirt separating your skin from touching. Your bodies fit like two pieces of a missing puzzle.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you replied and threw your head back against the crook of his neck.

“Good.”

You were a feather in San’s hand and he treated you with care. Never too rough or foul, always considerate and kind but not opposed to it if you asked. He spun you around and stared at you with a million stars in his eyes, completely and utterly lost in the beautiful galaxy that is you.

San cupped your cheek and traced your bottom lip with his thumb. His touch stopped at the corner of your mouth, his eyes widened as you lightly bit down on his finger. Your warm tongue against his cold skin. Your parted lips pulled into a smirk and it spurred San to push his thumb deeper in your mouth, now laying completely flat against the wet muscle. The innocent yet sultry bat of your eyes drove him crazy.

Reassuring words and mellow touches.

He wanted you. He wanted to lick and nip at your skin, paint it full of violet and crimson clover. Make your writhe and turn in his hold until breathless pleas filled your apartment. He craved you beneath him, bare and vulnerable while he worshiped your body with praises and sinful words. He wanted to make love to you.

Yet he couldn’t.

Not when you were both haunted by your thoughts.

He slipped his thumb from your mouth taking the sexual atmosphere with it.

“Love?”

His eyes snapped to yours and he knew then and there that the art of love wouldn’t solve any of your worries, because at the end of the night he’d still travel halfway across the world with the nagging thoughts packed between his briefs and socks.

“Is everything alright?” You gently latched onto his wrist, thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“I love you,” San suddenly confessed.

A crease formed between your brows, lips glued together and eyes almost glossy. You were taken back at the sweet words but even more so at the way he was looking at you – almost sad.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he repeated.

The scene wasn’t a sense of deja-vu, that much you knew, but rather a memory from a few weeks ago. A memory that was much sweeter and domestic than now. The response San expected to hear didn’t come as quickly as he hoped and through his tipsy vision he recognized a moment of hesitation.

“Honey?”

“I love you too, San.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He suddenly asked.

The loving touches and flirty banter went down the drain and you were left with a silence so loud and overwhelming you couldn’t think properly.

“What?”

“I said, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean something’s got you distracted.”

“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted stubbornly.

“Absolutely nothing?”

“San…everything's fine.”

“Except it isn't! I know you enough to see the changes. You barely sleep and this is the first time in days where I’ve seen you with a real smile.”

It broke his heart to see you slink from his embrace. Arms crossing over your chest and head turning sideway.

“Honey, please talk to me.” He sounded desperate.

“And I am. There’s nothing wrong.”

He raked his hand through his hair. The deep sigh whirling around your apartment.

“Don’t lie. Not to me.”

You stayed silent yet again.

“I’m here for you, always will be.”

“I can’t,” you whispered into the august breeze.

“What?”

“I can’t tell you,” you repeated a little louder.

“Why?”

“Because you’ll hate me!” It stung San into silence. “You’ll hate me and never want to speak to me again.”

He hungered for your touch, hands itching to reach for yours and as he took a step forward you took one back.

“You can’t keep it bottled up forever, love.”

“I can try.”

Tears formed in your eyes and your voice cracked. You tried blinking them away but they raced down your cheeks against your will.

“C’mere.”

That was all it took for you to fling yourself at him. Your hands gripped the back of his shirt, nails digging into the expensive material. One hand cradled the back of your head and the other supported your back, rubbing gentle circles against your knitted sweater. San leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your crown, lingering and breathing in the sweet scent of you.

“I can’t breathe without you by my side so if you think I’ll ever hate you, you’re wrong. My love, you could break my heart a thousand times over and I’d still find reason to love you.”

Hot tears soaked into his shirt and you wanted to disagree but the tremble of your lips told you to be quiet so you shook your head violently instead.

You stood there for a long time, in each other’s arms with soft kisses and soothing touches. The emotions swirling around the apartment were too big for your shoulders and the rational part of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to carry them with you much longer.

“I don’t want children.”

It was interesting how a four worded sentence could either be the demise or rise of a relationship. What path your and San’s would take was yet to be determined, but God did you hope it was the latter.

The argument broke out three days ago and while you've gone months without seeing each other, these 72 hours were by far the most excruciating period of your relationship. You didn’t ever think there’d be a person you’d miss this much. To see and hold, kiss and laugh with.

The first day was spent bathing in your own tears and snot. You were forced out of work by your co-workers as they didn’t buy your lie of ‘everything being alright’. It wasn’t like you could tell them your idol boyfriend of three years ran head first out of your apartment after an argument, absolutely not because you literally told him to give you space. So from nine am to nine pm you were cooped up in your bed, crying, scrolling through your socials, crying some more until you eventually fell asleep.

The second day wasn’t anything better, except for the three tubs of ice cream you inhaled. They were kept in the back of your freezer for emergencies such as these. With a quick pat on the back for eating something you pushed the containers aside and continued your self wallowing, dressed in one of your (San’s) hoodies that smelled of caramelized sugar. Your phone blew up with calls from your family. Everyone concerned about you suddenly going MIA, but not enough to pay you a visit which you were both thankful and bitter about.

The third following morning came around and you decided that it was time to get your shit together. You still had a job to return to and bills to pay. It was all going well too, you cleaned the apartment and got rid of all the empty ice cream tubs, made a home cooked meal for the first time in three days, you even changed your bedsheets and did the laundry. The last thing on your list was a well deserved full-body shower.

The frantic ring of your doorbell fell on deaf ears as water pattered on your bare body and the tiled floor. Your fingers worked through your hair, rubbing almost painfully at your scalp as shampoo water went down the drain.

It was first after you cut the stream and stepped out of the shower that you realized someone was at the door. With a roll of your eyes, you leisurely squeezed the excess water out of your hair and wrapped a towel around yourself. The chime of the bell didn’t stop and you were on the brink of insanity.

There were only two people with keys to your place; San and your mom.

Your parents had no reason for coming all the way to Seoul in the middle of the day and San…even though your relationship wasn’t in the best shape you knew he’d never turn up unannounced, whether he told you by call or text didn’t matter as long as he reached out. He said it was a way of respecting your privacy and as much as you didn’t care for that, it was heartwarming.

6:30 PM glared the digital clock on the console table in the hallway.

All you wanted was one normal day. A morning without spilling coffee on your clean clothes, an afternoon without stubbing your toe on the desk in your office and a night without someone trying to sell you cookies or whatnot. It’d also be so much easier to crawl beneath your sheets and cry yourself to sleep without a maniac creating the newest billboard hit outside your apartment, but hey each to their own.

As much as you wanted to swing the door open and bark out profanities at the nuisance, you knew better and opted with looking through the peeping hole. Never did you expect a soaked San to stand there, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet while desperately abusing the doorbell.

San didn’t have time to react, neither at the door being opened nor for you appearing with only a towel. You took hold of his hand and dragged him inside to which he shut the door behind him and somehow managed to take off his shoes. You threw him a spare towel and disappeared in your room. San stood there like a kicked dog, ears flat against his head and tail certainly not wagging. A few seconds later you returned dressed in one of San’s many t-shirts and your pajama shorts, carrying a change of clothes.

You wordlessly gave them to him and escaped to your room again. San took that as his queue to get dressed.

The run to your apartment gave him barely any time to collect his thoughts, too busy with providing his burning lungs with air and keeping an eye out for cars and potential followers. So now that he stood, not in front of your door, but in your living room he was completely shitting his pants.

The cold and distant facade you managed to pull off in front of him crumbled the second you crossed the threshold of your room. You really strained all seventeen of your muscles not to cry and you could argue it was your best accomplishment yet as not a single tear kissed your cheeks.

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spot on the bed. Staring at your partner who stopped by the door. Your throat was dry and itchy, brain indiciseive of what to say and do. He wasn’t supposed to be here, that much you knew. Their agency had this weird rule of not allowing their idols out a day prior to their tour and it didn’t sit right with you knowing he went against their words, for you nonetheless.

“San, what are you doing here?”

Unsteady sleeping schedules, caffeine filled drinks and insomnia were the standard for idols. Anyone claiming otherwise was either lying straight through their teeth or had a great planning method something San could really use these days.

San was no stranger to succumbing to sleep at the early hours of the morning or not sleeping at all. The extra time was usually put into practice or perfecting his secret project, and sometimes something simple as laying in bed staring up at the ceiling.

But now it was hard to do any of that with you taking over his every thought. He found himself wondering about things that weren’t supposed to infiltrate his mind for the next five years.

Get married. Move in. Adopt a cat. Have kids.

A short list of things that were crossing the line between adolescence and adulthood.

The image of you and San doing that together spread a radiant smile across his face and his roommates, clueless as ever, couldn’t stop their own mouths from curving upwards. There was truly no other person he could think of doing any of that with and his heart was heavy as he realized he may never complete the list.

It took three calls from Seonghwa for San to acknowledge the older man sitting on the edge of his bed beside the open and empty suitcase.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Seonghwa leaned back on his arms keeping him from completely falling on the bed and stared at San’s computer screen, nonchalantly watching as he played one of his many games. The elder had come straight out of his own room from finishing a youtube live – a youtube live San crashed for a good fifteen minutes before abruptly leaving – and although Atiny probably didn’t notice the change of behavior in the younger Ateez member, Seonghwa did.

San sighed as the last character of his team died and the word ‘defeat’ flashed in large capital letters took over the majority of the screen.

“San-ah.”

Said man placed his expensive headset on the desk and twirled in his chair, and Seonghwa had a feeling the glum look on his features wasn’t from losing the game.

“I’m not saying you aren’t. I’m just checking if there’s something bothering you. Something I can help you with?”

The prolonged silence did nothing to soothe Seonghwa’s worries. He closely watched the hesitation slowly crack through San’s facade – bottom lip caught between his teeth, picking at his nails and eyes glazed over, darting literally everywhere except at Seonghwa.

Cautiously, he asked if it had something to do with you and his suspicion was confirmed when their eyes met.

“It’s…complicated.”

“How so?”

“Because I thought of a thing and it turns out I was right.”

Seonghwa tried asking as few questions as possible to not overwhelm San, but the conversation wasn’t giving him much to work with.

“And what were you thinking about?”

San ran his hands through his black hair and looked as if he was racking his brains, he then violently rubbed at his eyes too. It was one thing to think about the whole situation and another to say it out loud, possibly speaking it into existence.

“You don’t have to te–”

“Starting a family.”

The trip to your hometown really did a number on him, Seonghwa thought.

Cheeks red and palms sweaty, San cleared his throat. A little embarrassed at the confession and for cutting Seonghwa off so abruptly.

“I was thinking of what it’d be like to start a family with her.”

“Starting a what with who?”

Mingi stood in the doorway with parted lips and eyebrows raised to the roof, wet tufts of blonde and black hair peeked from underneath the towel on his head.

“It was just a thought.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with it,” Seonghwa assured.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter.”

“How come?” Mingi pressed, now leaning against the door.

“Because she doesn’t want a family…or well, at least not kids.”

Seonghwa and Mingi exchanged glances. All of Ateez knew of San’s adoration for kids. Heck, Seonghwa had front row seats to it and all. He remembered thinking how skilled San was with the twins and even with the energized boy.

But none of it mattered now. If what San said was true – which he had no doubts about – then your choice went above everyone else’s, including San’s.

“And how do you feel about that?”

San looked at the eldest. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I mean, sure I love kids I do, but I love her more.”

“Then I don’t see what the issue is,” Mingi chimed in.

“It’s still a bitter situation Mingi, and Sannie has the right to feel…upset. Have you talked to her?”

San groaned and buried his face in the palms of his hands, thinking back how it all escalated so quickly. The split second he tried processing everything, you’d already decided it was time for him to leave and pushed him out, crying how you needed to be alone. Too stunned to properly react, San did as told.

“I walked out…”

Dread filled their guts as Mingi and Seonghwa patiently waited for the remainder of the story. They hoped San wouldn’t say what they were thinking.

“She confided in me at first and then pushed me away, screaming at me to go and I…listened. ”

“Well that changes the trajectory of things don’t you think?” Mingi said after the minute long silence and Seonghwa shot him a pointed look.

“San, we are not leaving for the tour until you talk to her,” Seonghwa declared.

The elder had no lover of his own, but he had seen enough movies to know how these situations ended. Spoiler alert: a painful break up for both parties.

San shrugged, “I’m sure Hongjoong would like that.”

“And you don’t think your girlfriend would? Listen here. We’re supposed to leave for the airport at seven am, I’ll give you the night if you make amends.”

Seonghwa stopped before San, a wide smile on his gorgeous face. “Besides, a family doesn’t become a family when a child is brought into it. If you think about it, the three of us and the rest of the guys are like a family, right?”

“We are a family,” Mingi corrected.

“Exactly. So who’s to say you two aren’t one too?”

“I’m here to do what I should’ve done days ago.”

It was hard to look him in the eye. The sincerity in them had your heart in knots, tugging and tightening with your every breath.

“Can I come in?”

San had his arms by his side and hands balled into fists to keep them from trembling. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d be in his arms by the end of the night, but it didn’t stop his pulse from skyrocketing.

“You’re already here.”

A faint, appreciative smile crossed his features as he gingerly took the seat beside you. There was no real malice to your words and he was thankful because honestly speaking he wouldn’t know what to make of it if you still needed ‘time’. San straightened and breathed out a sigh as if letting go of all his nerves.

“I want to start by saying; I’m sorry.”

You snapped your head towards him, confused as to why he was the one apologizing. You were the issue at hand here. You were the one depriving him of something he wished for, you pushed him away. Not the other way around.

“I’m really sorry for pressuring you–”

“San, no–” You shook your head, tears already threatening to make their dramatic entrance.

“Just listen to me, please.”

And his desperate plea was their queue to waltz in much to your dismay.

San lifted your chin so he could see your face and frowned at the tears. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel obliged to push your feelings aside for me. That has never been my intention and it never will be.”

He cupped your face gently in both hands and wiped away your remaining tears with his thumbs. It pained him to know the tears were inflicted by his doing.

“I love you.”

“San,” you whimpered, barely able to get the word out.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. I’m not leaving.”

That was your breaking point. You heaved for air as more tears blurred your vision. A heavy weight lifted off your shoulders as you found solace in his words and San felt his own heart break at your wails. Feeling embarrassed you abruptly stood up and put a hand over your mouth to stop the broken cries. Staying true to his words, San hugged you from behind and pressed you into his embrace. Chin resting against your shoulder as his arms went around your waist. You stood like that until your tears ran dry and cries turned into hiccups.

San whispered words of encouragement in your ear, lips grazing the skin with each pronunciation. Your feet moved with his as he maneuvered you to bed and under the covers. A meteor could hit the earth and he wouldn't leave your side. You laid there in silence with your back to his chest. His arm under your neck and the other curled around your waist, keeping you flushed against his front. Your occasional sniffles filled the gaps letting San know you were awake.

“My love,” he started and you shifted as a reply of acknowledgement, “remember that night at your parents’ house? When your mother said something to upset you and you stormed up to your room?”

You nodded while playing with his fingers spread across your abdomen.

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“That you loved me and nothing would change that.”

He kissed the back of your head. “I still stand by that. I love you. Not what you can or can’t give me. I love you when you cry and I love you when you laugh. I love you through your anger and grief. I love your kindness and selflessness.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, please. You should only apologize when you’ve done something wrong.”

“But I led you on. San, we want different things. You want a child–” your voice cracked and you drew in a sharp breath, “–and that’s not something I’m sure I can give you, ever.”

“That’s not true.” He sat up and leaned over your body, “I wanna cuddle you to sleep and wake you with breakfast in bed. I want us to buy furniture and assemble it together only to give up halfway through. I want us to bake a ridiculous cake that ends up in a flour fight. I want all of that with you!”

San planted a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“Children or not, it won’t change the fact that I love you and I’ll continue to say it until all the trees are cut down, until the ocean dries out and all the stars go out. I love you. Always have and always will.”

His caring words drew a smile from you and the harsh knot around your heart slowly came undone. His affectionate eyes searched yours and he’d wait an eternity for your answer, but you didn’t need more time to know what you wanted. Your hands caressed the sides of his neck and with a quick pull of his neck, your lips clashed in a passionate kiss.

Reassuring words and mellow touches.

541 notes · View notes

zanarkandskylines · 23 days

Text

unbreakable bonds ꒰ no quirks au | childhood friends | friends to lovers ꒱ ⇢ a collective of family bonding and little moments between you and katsuki.

『♡』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ tags & content ꒱ emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, happiness all around ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — just wanted to write something sickly sweet and it’s been sitting in my drafts forever. reader has a little sister that helps bond the two of you together over the years. cross posted to ao3 | word count; ~3kish? -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

You were too young - a little over three - to understand the day your mom brought home your little sister. You'd been secretly asking the universe for a sibling, someone to share everything with. Ask and you shall receive! But, you never knew just how much she would shape your life into what it is today.

The Kingdom - Elementary School

Fourth grade is when you and Katsuki started to play after school together on a daily basis. Him and Izuku would come by and grab snacks from your mom while you went back to the park around the corner, playing pirates and super heroes with the other neighborhood kids. Every so often, your mom would ask for you to bring your sister along. You never minded, even though she was your baby sister in first grade. The boys would pick on her - lovingly, of course - to make her feel included with the rest of the pack. She loved being around you, cooing and giggling away as she'd hold your hand and squeal with delight.

One day at the park, she'd declared herself to be queen of the castle as she stood on the slide, proudly puffing out her chest with her hands on her hips.

"I am the queen, and what I say goes!" she pointed to you and Katsuki. "Sissy will be the princess and you will be our royal guard, Katsu!"

You chuckle. "Isn't the older sister supposed to be queen?"

She does her best impression of a royal laugh, projecting her voice theatrically. "Not in my land! It's my kingdom and if you don't like it, I'll send you to the brig!"

"You're confusin' pirates 'n princesses again,” Katsuki taunts playfully.

She stomps her foot on the slide. “Silence in my kingdom! Izu will be my knight!”

Katsuki pouts. “Hey! Why don’t I get to be the knight?!’

“Cause I say so! You’re the royal guard cause you’re tough. Izu is the knight because he’s brave!”

You can’t help but let out a loud ‘hah!’ at her comment. Your sister never failed to push Katsuki in the cutest ways - he probably was thankful to be an only child whenever you guys would go home for the day.

Katsuki huffs at her declaration, taking the challenge with stride. “Fine! I’ll show you who’s tough and be the best dang guard in the whole world.”

“Do I get a cool set of armor, queen?” Izuku asks, bouncing up and down at the bottom of the slide.

“Of course! Only the best armor and ponies for my royal kingdom.”

She sits and pushes herself down the metal slide, rocketing off the edge past Izuku and barreling toward Katsuki. She trucks into him at full force - but, being small, that force isn’t much for him to withstand.

“What the heck was that for?!” he yells while catching her before she hits the wood chips.

“A test of your toughness, Katsu! And you passed! You’re deserving of a spot in my kingdom,” she giggles, mashing his cheeks together with her tiny palms. He protests her closeness and tries to fight her off, setting her feet back on the ground while she’s wiggling in his hold. Watching the two of them act like siblings themselves always made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside, knowing your two closest friends also adored your sister as much as you did.

You meander over to grab her from him. “Alright, I think you made your point, queen. Your guard and knight have other duties to get to.”

She waves goodbye to the boys over her shoulder as the two of you stroll home for dinner. She gleefully remarks how cool they are and that she can’t wait to marry them someday.

You can’t help but giggle at the thought. “Both of them? Wow, all to yourself, huh?”

She pouts and whips her head upward. “No, sissy! We both get one!”

”Oh yeah? Because you’re the queen of the kingdom, you get to pick?”

“That’s right! They’ll have to fight to see who gets to pick you!”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head at the thought. You’re only ten years old, the thought of boys fighting over you was hilarious.

”Promise not to tell Izu, but I think Katsu would win that fight,” she whispers, tugging on your hand to get you to lean over closer to her face. “He’s taller and faster!”

The thought of marrying Katsuki flashes in your mind - you have zero clue what that even looks like, but you imagine him bringing you flowers on the playground or giving you a bite of his ice cream. A blush creeps over your cheeks and nose at the thought. Your sister catches your reaction and gasps dramatically.

“You like Katsu?!” she exclaims.

You shush her. “No! Don’t go yelling that!”

That’s a big fat lie. You liked him a lot, he was your favorite person, but you’re kids.

It’s just a harmless crush.

───

An Enchanted Afternoon - Elementary School

A week later, the four of you returned to the playground after school. Snacks from your pantry in hand, the bunch of you sit on the swing set to eat. Your sister seemed extremely eager today, more so than usual. Once you all finished eating, she demanded your attention.

"Gather 'round! Your queen summons you," she declares, arms raised above her head. You and the boys huddle around her.

"Katsu, go fetch flowers!" she orders as she points to a nearby patch of grass. "Zuzu, clear out the sandbox of any villagers."

There wasn't anyone else here today, so that job was easily done. Izuku doesn't say anything and smiles as he heads over to the sandbox as ordered. Katsuki is confused, nose scrunched and arms crossed.

"Why do I need to get flowers?" he asks, tapping his foot in the wood chips.

"Do you dare defy your queen?!" she shouts, grinning wickedly. He obliges, sauntering over to the grass to find a few spare daisies.

"What's all this for?" you ask, genuinely curious to her plans. She doesn’t answer you as she grabs you by the wrist, dragging you over to the sandbox.

A few minutes later, Katsuki comes back with a handful of daisies, picked and pruned clean of any dirt and weeds. Izuku stands on the edge of the sandbox patiently.

”Perfect! Katsu, Sissy, please approach your queen.”

You play along and stand in front of her with Katsuki. It’s amusing how small she is in comparison to the two of you, easily shadowing over her figure.

“With my knight as witness, I give the blessing to the princess and royal guard to be married forever!” she exclaims, waving her hands around to mimic casting a magic spell.

You're pretty sure she got that line from a princess movie, but that doesn't make the sentiment any less adorable. You begin to chuckle to yourself, smiling ear to ear before turning toward Katsuki. You're expecting him to be disgusted, repulsed by something so sickly sweet, but are shocked to see him standing with the flowers outstretched in your direction. He's biting his bottom lip and avoiding eye contact by staring directly at your feet.

"H-here," he whispers meekly, pushing the flowers into your hands. You've never seen him so shy before - that's usually Izuku's demeanor. His unexpected affection makes your little heart flutter in your chest.

"Thank you 'Suki," is all you can muster up the courage to say, your mind running blank on the right thing to say. It's just an imaginary scenario...It's not real, not like you're actually marrying him. Katsuki exhales, turning his back to you to hide his strawberry colored cheeks.

"Now you're together forever!" you sister raves, dancing on her tip toes with satisfaction.

Maybe that was the moment she bound you two together with some unknown magical force, or it was a mere coincidence. The sappy part of your young brain believed in fairytales and chose to believe she was weaving your golden string to him, binding you two for life.

───

Leftovers - Middle School

”Yo, brats! Come eat already so I can get the hell outta here,” Katsuki called from your doorway. He’d come by with leftovers from his mom for you and your sister, since your own mom was working later that day. The two of you were still…friends? You weren’t sure. Being in seventh grade and all, he started acting like you weren’t cool enough for him. He did the same to Izuku, starting to ditch the two of you for other kids in class to hang out with at lunch or walk home with. Did it hurt your feelings? Absolutely. But you didn’t own him, he was allowed to have other friends, even if it did suck to see him less outside of class.

“Coming!” you called back, skipping down the hallway with your sister in tow. She happily ran into the entryway, hugging Katsuki by the waist. She was taller now, but still much smaller than him as a fourth grader.

“Hiya Katsu!” she gleamed up at him, rubbing her face against his uniform jacket.

He grunted, uncomfortable with her sudden affection and poking her in the forehead to release her grip. “Let go, squirt!”

He turned his attention to you as your sister finally let go of him. “Here, take these. I gotta get to practice.”

”Thank you! Tell your mom we said hi.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You hand the containers to your sister as she wanders off to the table. Before Katsuki opens the door, you tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, are you alright?”

He scoffs at your question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem distant lately. Wanna come by sometime for a movie marathon?” you ask, tilting your head and giving him a warm smile.

“We’re not kids anymore. Got better stuff to do.”

Ouch, that stung. Your smile fades away as you reply. “Well…I know. I just miss hanging out with you.”

“You have Deku an’ that other group of bitches you hang out with, ya don’t need me.” His harsh comment has notes of jealousy intertwined in his words. He goes to put his hand on the door again before you take a step forward to stop him.

“Kat, they’re not a replacement for you. You’ve got your own friends now, too since you’re on the soccer team. You’re saying we can’t hang out 'cause we have different friends?”

He glares at you before pushing past you and pulling on the front door.

“Hey!” your sister shouts from the dining area. “Katsu, that’s not nice. My royal guard doesn't act like that!” She’s always thought of Katsuki as a guard since your elementary school playground days.

“Cut the shit! We’re not kids anymore!” Katsuki rebuttals with a growl of frustration.

He makes eye contact with you. “We’ve grown apart, end of fuckin’ story. Get over it.”

He slams your front door closed and leaves you standing in the entryway, your eyes stinging from the urge to cry. You feel a small gust of wind rush by as your sister is sprinting to the door, throwing it open and running outside without shoes on.

“Hey!” She calls after Katsuki. “Get your butt back here, Katsu!”

He turns on his heel. “Hah?!”

She stomps on the ground, fists balled at her sides. “Apologize to her!”

Katsuki cackles, a little too manically. “For what, brat?”

“You’re being a mean jerk to her! She doesn’t deserve to be yelled at like that. Friends are friends forever, idiot!” she yells, her cheeks puffed and eyebrows scrunched together.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at her calling Katsuki an idiot and turn your head to hide your amusement.

”That’s not who you are, Katsu. That’s not how you treat your princess!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut in annoyance, exhaling dramatically. He locks his gaze on you, storming back up to the doorway. He roughly ruffles your sister’s hair as he passes by her as a pseudo apology. Katsuki sucks the air through his teeth and shoves his fists in his pockets as he stops in front of you.

“Look, ‘m sorry for yellin’, okay?” he sighs, kicking a foot against the pavement. “I'll come over Saturday, we’ll have that movie day ya wanted.”

"You don't need to if you feel forced to hang out with me." Your eyes shift to your feet to avoid looking at his reaction.

" 's fine. I'll be here at noon, don't pick anything lame."

With that, he turns to leave for a second time in silence. You watch him disappear around the corner and can't help but feel like a burden for asking him to make time for you. As if reading your mind, your sister shakes you out of the negative train of thought while walking back to the house.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just being a dumb boy. That’s what my teacher says when boys are mean for no reason.” She grins a toothy smile up at you and grabs your hand. “Come on! Foods getting cold!”

Katsuki rounded the corner and waited to be out of sight before palming his face in anger. He had no idea why he said those things to you. None of it was true, especially that you’d grown apart. If anything, he was jealous of your friends and missed seeing you all the time. But he couldn’t bring himself to say so, like always. Ever since middle school started, he’d harbored some unknown rage inside of him that lashed out every chance it could. He hated it and didn’t know what to do to stop it - hence trying out for the soccer team, looking for an outlet for the pent up emotions in his body.

Katsuki secretly hoped you wouldn’t end up despising him for it. Even after all this time, he still thinks of you whenever he sees a patch of daisies.

Maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell you about it.

───

Running Late - High School

The front door to your home opens as Katsuki slips inside, kicking his loafers off by the door. Your younger sister peaks over the kitchen counter while spreading jam over her toast and nods in his direction.

"Hey Katsu, pretty sure she's still asleep upstairs," she calls, rolling her eyes. "I tried to get her up three times, maybe you'll have better luck."

It was hard to believe that she was already in her freshmen year of high school - shit, it’s crazy that you and Katsuki were seniors. The age of playground days and summer adventures went by in the blink of an eye.

He makes his way to the kitchen island, leaning over to ruffle your sister’s hair - some things never change.

"Thanks, bean. I'll get her ass movin’."

“Stooop! You’ll mess up my hair!” She whines as she pulls away, fixing a few stray pieces of her fluffy mane.

“Ya look fine, don’t sweat it,” he compliments while heading for the staircase. He makes his way to your bedroom on the second floor. The door is surprisingly cracked open - he taps on the doorframe to grab your attention.

“Come in,” you call, lying on your bed facing the wall above the covers while scrolling on your phone. You presume it’s your sister until a soft kiss is planted on your cheek.

“Mornin’ sweets,” Katsuki whispers, rubbing your shoulder to turn you to face him. He sits on the edge of your bed beside you. “You wanna be late for our last first day of high school?”

You shift to sit up and drop your phone to your bed, reaching to cradle his face in your hands.

“No, I just wanted to steal a few kisses first,” you mumble as your lips quietly meet his. Katsuki places one hand on your cheek while the other lightly grazes your back. After a few moments, the two of you part with a soft smack. You stand and straighten up your uniform skirt, flattening a few of the panels to work out any stray creases.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, spinning around for Katsuki and showing off your uniform. Your hair was pulled into a pretty ponytail with a few pieces framing your face. The only make up you had on was some lip gloss - you valued sleeping in over doing a minimalist makeup look today.

“Y’always look good,” he sighs, standing to his feet. “Let’s get movin’ before bean suspects somethin’.”

You hadn’t told your sister about your relationship with Katsuki. Sure, you guys had been friends since you were children and he’s always around…how would she know the difference?

The two of you patter down the hallway and skip down the stairs to the kitchen. Your sister is waiting for the two of you, arms crossed and tapping one foot impatiently.

“Finally! Get your damn shoes on,” she orders while pushing you toward the door. She does a double take at Katsuki while you’re putting on your shoes, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Katsu…are you wearing lipgloss?”

Oops.

Katsuki’s searching for something to say as his face glows scarlet. He puts a hand on the back of his neck and turns away, grumbling while attempting to hide his embarrassment.

“Oh come on, you two. I knew you guys started dating months ago. You think I didn’t notice?”

You spin around to face her, cheeks puffed and eyebrows scrunched. “You never said anything?!”

She laughs, walking up to Katsuki and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“If you ever hurt her, Katsuki, I’ll knock your lights out. I know where you sleep,” she threatens, grinning mischievously. Katsuki pulls her into a headlock, ruffling her hair a second time.

“Deal, but I plan on stayin’ alive.” He lets her go, chuckling as he smooths out the pieces of hair he messed with.

Seeing the two of them get along never fails to make your heart swell with joy. Katsuki has always treated her like his own sister - one that he could easily give back at the end of every day, anyways.

She turns with a huff with her hands in the air.

“You both have my blessing, you should know that. I didn’t marry you two in a sandbox for nothing!”

───

Today Was A Fairytale - Current Day

“It’s an honor to be doing this for a second time. You’re in luck, my vocabulary has grown exponentially since our sandbox days.”

There’s a wave of laughter through the crowd at your sister’s lighthearted joke. You can’t help but smile as Katsuki’s fingers dance across the back of your hand to regather your attention.

God, he looks so damn handsome in that tux. His usual wild hair is slicked back and tamed - an extremely rare sight. Carmine eyes stare back at you, full of devotion and excitement for this next chapter in your fairytale.

“By the power vested in me, and these people as my witness, I pronounce you two as king and queen of the kingdom!”

Friends and family alike cheer and whistle as you and Katsuki intertwine, kissing each other for the first time as husband and wife. He spins you around and dips you low, kissing the tip of your nose playfully.

“I love you,” he mouths, a silent profession of adoration - reserved just for you.

The two of you strut down the aisle to the dance floor in the reception hall, the DJ already queuing the first dance song. Katsuki gently tugs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him as he begins to sway side to side when the music begins to fill the room. You rest your head against his chest and get lost in the moment.

Right now, the world belongs to the two of you. Every worry, struggle, and hardship is stripped away from your lives to give you the peace you deserve.

There’s one thought that lingers in your mind as you catch a glimpse of your teary-eyed sister watching you from the corner of the dance floor, latched onto Izuku’s arm for support.

She tied that golden string with an unbreakable knot.

tags 💥 @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia #bakugo fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #☆.rei writes

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ozzgin · 3 months

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Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #yandere obey me #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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harbingersglory · 4 months

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Mayhaps something with (transfem) Kujou Sara fucking a bratty reader who (intentionally) pisses her off to the point where she goes all out with her full inhuman strength, ultimately knocking them up completely by accident because she was so caught up in the moment she forgot to pull out?

I bet nobody expected her to be first out of her siblings to become a parent, least of all herself, but she ain’t complaining!

{☆} characters kujou sara {☆} notes drabble, implied fem reader, sub reader, transfem kujou sara {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink

Kujou Sara was not one to allow herself to lose her ironclad control– she was a general, above all else, a servant of the Almighty Shogun.

Yet try as she might, you..you had a way of getting under her skin in a way that had her patience and will tested. Maybe it was the bratty, teasing demeanor that had her jaw clenched so hard it creaked, or maybe it was the provocative words you'd whisper in her ear while she was trying to focus.

It was irrelevant in the face of her dragging you back to her quarters, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line– she tried to be gentle, but her grip was firm on her arm as she pulled you into the delicately managed room, her composure cracking like shattering glass. She wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face when she slammed her hands against the door, the wall nearly splintering beneath barely restrained strength, her expression..less than amused.

"Just what are you trying to accomplish?" She ground out, her teeth aching from how hard she was clenching her jaw– and, though she refused to outwardly admit it, your little..distraction was working far better then she wanted to admit to even herself. "I told you not to..to do such things while I'm working. Do you ever listen?"

She nearly growled– like some common beast, she thinks, and she is glad for her tempered control that she did not embarrass herself in such a way. She still had her dignity. But Archons, you were testing that control even still– the way your tongue poked out like a child, mocking and teasing, as if you wanted her to snap.

She almost considered it, but..you were human, she had to remind herself. Archons knows she's never forgive herself if she actually hurt you.

"What? Can the General not handle a little playful banter?" Sara opened her mouth to snarl back a reply, but she closed it but a sharp click just as quickly, a grimace gracing her features instead. "Is that all it takes to rile you up?"

She wants to deny it, keep her sense of control, but damn it– the way your hands glide across her skin, your nails just barely ghosting across the flexing muscles of her back..she feels her control slipping faster then she can maintain it, her lip quivering.

"You.." She croaks out in reply, trying to subdue the uneasy urge that lingers in the back of her mind with every glance down at you, every touch of your hands, every word that drips from your lips like honey. The silence is broken by a low growl, her hands tugging you off your feet and practically shoving you onto the bed.

"What? Are you going to shut me up? Or are you going to admit you enjoy it?"

Fine, she thinks, fine! If this is what you want so badly, she's going to shut you up the only way she knows she can.

She wastes little time between shoving you onto the bed and climbing on it herself, one of her hands reaching up to tangle in your hair as she shoves your face into the mattress, her other hand fumbling with your clothes– just enough to expose your dripping cunt to her, nostrils flaring at the sharp tang of your arousal, her teeth bared in a snarl.

She can't help the raspy groan that tumbles from her lips at the sight– you looked perfect like that. Quiet, your face forcibly held down, your thighs soaked in your own arousal. She absentmindedly wonders if you'd been so wet the entire time– if you'd just been waiting, no, practically begging for her to just..she can't even finish the thought, her hands trembling and her control slipping even further.

Her free hand fumbles with the hem of her own shorts, freeing her straining, twitching cock, pre cum beading at the tip. Her fist tightens in your hair as she leans over you, pressing her chest against your back and aligning her aching cock to your entrance. She almost snaps out of the fog clouding her rationality, but it returns in full force when she snaps her hips forward, sinking into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

"Fuck," Sara curses beneath her breath, groaning at the tight heat enveloping her– Archons, she'd never get used to it. It only drove her further over the edge, rolling her hips to force more of her cock into you. "Not..not going to talk back?" She growled, huffing and releasing her hold on your hair to instead slip her fingers past your lips. The muffled, garbled response was..far more enjoyable than she expected, the hazy eyed look as she sunk fully into you.

It made her feel lightheaded, to be honest. She was getting a bit too carried away, but the way your walls squeezed against her..her teeth ached for an entirely different reason, tongue swiping over the sharp points before she leaned down to sink them into your shoulder, pulling out and slamming back in with a muffled groan. Her pace was frantic after that, dragging moans and whimpers from your throat like a chorus of broken notes.

She hated how easily you got under her skin, but damn it, she couldn't deny how good it felt to put you in your place. You couldn't even get away if you tried– you were human, and while it made you fragile it also made you weak. Easier to handle.

Even if your tongue was far sharper than your appearance would make one believe.

Archons, she was so close, though. She pulled her fingers from your mouth, nearly crumbling at the moan that tumbled openly from your lips immediately after– she may have chastised you for your attitude, but she still thoroughly enjoyed hearing you. Just knowing you were unable to form anything more complex then senseless babbling was a special kind of high.

She wants to speak, but even her own words fail her beyond a low groan, the absence filled with the slick sound of her wild thrusts, caring little about the stinging ache in her thighs as she pounds you into the mattress without a shred of hesitation or rationality beyond fucking you into silence.

A small part of her, the rational part, tried to remind her to pull out– but your cunt felt so fucking good she just kept going despite the sirens blaring in her head. Even as your limbs tensed and your voice grew hoarse from screaming, she kept you beneath her, nipping at your throat to leave her mark against your skin. She was so close, just..just a little more. Just a little longer. Archons, she doesn't ever want to leave– doesn't ever want to pull out.

Her hands grasp your hips tightly as she nears her own climax, slamming back into you with a broken moan– she barely registered the fact she had cum inside you beyond the thrill of it dribbling down your thighs, not even her cock enough to keep you plugged up as she tried to gain some semblance of control through the haze.

..Fuck. She was going to regret this. She was, every so slowly, coming back to her senses– the first thing she felt was embarrassment, then panic, and then resignation.

At the very least she hadn't accidentally fucked you into unconsciousness on accident.

She was much gentler as she sat up, her cock still half hard as she pulled out, inhaling sharply at the way her cum dripped down onto the sheets. She hated how arousing it was. No– no. She needed to get a hold of herself.

But then again..you didn't seem to be complaining, at least not yet. She hesitantly lifted her eyes to see your expression, her throat suddenly feeling dry at the smug satisfaction on your face.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #minors dni #writing tag #kujou sara smut #kujou sara x reader #do you understand what this felt like to open my inbox and see this #it felt like a shotgun blast pointblank to the chest /pos #i am a weak man at heart i see breeding kink mention and my brain turns off #respectfully. lovingly. i am going to suplex you.#my weakness being used against me ohhh its over for me. if it isnt obvious by the word count idk man #quick hack into getting me to write for you. breeding kink. passes out #AND KUJOU SARA TOO??? lord have mercy #i am an electro women enjoyer this felt extremely personal #if this fic isnt coherent thats bc it isnt. i blacked out writing this. dont ask

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simpjaes · 5 months

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sometimes i reread your hyung line and rimming post just for the sunghoon part. imagine step bro!sunghoon who loves having his tongue in ur ass to prep you for when he fucks your there 😵‍💫

wc: 2.3k content: you're a year older than him, thigh fucking, he's desperate to fuck ur ass, dub-con but like you really want it but pretend that you don't, he does not touch your pussy, anal sex lol p.s. @drunkhazed this is for u, not just the nonnie who sent the ask.

can you imagine step bro!sunghoon deciding that it's not wrong if he just plays with your ass? Like it's some sort of loophole in the system of your parents having a holy ceremony of that would connect the two of you as siblings?

it's not even that he wouldn't want to take every hole you have to offer, but more so the fact that he still has the guilt inside of him that's it's wrong. If he were to fuck you there, it would be too much guilt. But if he just plays with you, or you play with him, or if he stretches you open in different ways, it doesn't entirely count, right?

of course it doesn't, and that's what drives him.

it started about six months after his mom and your dad moved in together. the two of you would only meet when you came home from college on holiday, or during family events.

after all, it was super important to your parents that everyone was together for birthdays, anniversaries, and of course, christmas.

the sixth month was christmas, where you'd be in a guest room at the end of the hallway, and he would be sleeping in the other guest room right across from you.

that night, he took note of your outfit. he took note of how his step sister fills out any outfit she would put on, and he definitely took note of the way you carry yourself.

you're his type. you always have been, but goddamn it's so blatant.

his interest in you hit far before your own interest, but it did hit you eventually. specifically on that sixth month of knowing him, on the third night that the two of you were home, and at two in the morning on christmas eve.

neither of you could sleep and found yourselves on the living room couch watching some shitty christmas movie. Sunghoon was obvious by this point with his attraction to you and you remember doing your best to ignore it.

you couldn't quite ignore it when he laid behind you though, spooning you closely and chuckling into your ear when you felt what he was packing in his loose sweatpants.

you definitely couldn't ignore it when you felt his hands against your ass, and his little whispers of "no one would find out." and "come on, just this once."

you had tried to fight the idea, whispering small a small "no" to him despite your body betraying those very words and arching back and against him.

that was the first night you felt your step brother come against you. After he had pushed one of your thighs forward, tucked his cock between them, and silently fucked himself between your legs until he was gripping your waist and letting out whispered moans into your ear.

you can't remember what came over you to grow so wet when he was against you that night, nor what comes over you now when things go much further.

There is a boundary, and one that you can't say you're too fond of but Sunghoon swears by it each time you find yourself with him. When he stalks into your room in the silent house of your parents and tries to push further and further each time he manages to get himself off by using you.

"Come on." He would argue. "We've already done so much, just let me loosen it up a little."

he uses that same argument tonight, over a year since your parents moved in together and six months since he initially fucked your thighs on that couch.

little by little things went further up until tonight. Thigh fucking, masturbating together, him sending you raunchy texts throughout the time you're not together.

tonight, you can only imagine that he wants more like he always does. That same argument, those same hands holding you down against your bed, that same dark look in his eye.

"you'd make me feel so good if you let me." he whispers, pressing his hardened length against your core. "i won't touch your pussy, i promise." he adds, lending you another press of his hips. "Sunghoon, have to stop." you argue, trying to fight the fact that you're already drenching your panties like you always do when he makes his way in here.

"Why? because you like it?" he chuckles, dipping his head down just an inch from your face. "because you know i'd fuck you open?"

you don't know why you nodded before shaking your head, but it put the nail in your coffin.

"that's right," he nods to himself, sitting up and away from you before gripping your pajama bottoms and pulling them down. "you want it too, don't you?"

you don't nod, but you also don't shake your head. you're too focused on the way he adjusts your body to roll over completely, and then pulls you up by the waist and forcing you to arch your ass up for him. "never had anyone play with your ass, hm?" he whispers, twitching in his pants at the way you just let him move you around like a puppet. "i can tell by the way your legs are shaking-" he continues, boring holes into you with his eyes. "don't worry sis, i'll make it feel so good."

you hope he's right, as you tightly close your eyes, hug against your pillow, and pretend that the hottest foreplay and sex-talk you've ever gotten didn't come from your step brother, in the silence of the guest room of your parent's home.

you feel his breath against your rim before you hear his hum, and your body instantly tenses at the feeling of being so vulnerable before him.

no matter how pushy he is to have you how he wants you, that palm against you is always soothing. you're not sure if he knows that he does it, but he does. right now, it's pressed against the small of your back, keeping it arched for him so that he can lick a long strip up your backside, landing the muscle right against your rim and flicking it.

you tense again, only to feel that same comforting palm press down more, and his other hand spreading your cheeks open.

you're flustered, and angry that it does feel good. even more so, you're embarrassed to not fight him on this like you did before. god, he's so into it though, and arguably even your regular fucks aren't as into you as he is.

"mhm." he encourages you when you tense up, feeling you try to pull away from him only to have his hands hold you in place, pulling you further back against him.

you tense again, actually trying to wriggle away from his grasp but this time he's actually using his strength. He shoots his hands to your hips, and pulls you back so hard against his face that you can feel his tongue stretch into your tight, saliva coated hole.

more than anything in this moment, you wish you didn't moan.

"Ha," he chuckles slightly, pulling back to look at the way your body is positioned. "fight all you want, you always do." he comments, now moving a finger towards that same hole. "you always end up loving it too."

you groan, annoyed at the truthfulness of the words, then yelp slightly at the feeling of his finger sliding into you quickly. So fast that even the single finger hurts.

he can feel it restrict around him as he holds it there, knuckle deep before patting the top of your ass and twisting it inside of you. "Squeezing me so tight already." He smiles with a slight moan in his voice, "can see your pussy beg for it too." He hums after, watching the way your entire lower half quivers through his intrusion. "Shame I can't fuck that too, right?"

God, you're dripping too. He sees how slick and shiny your cunt has become and he wants nothing more than to bury himself into you right now. Clearly you wouldn't need prep work if he were do it there, but still, he shouldn't. and he won't. After all, your ass is gripping his finger so fucking tight, he can't imagine how strangling that will feel on his cock.

and he's going to feel it. tonight. Especially upon your silence to his words. Now more than ever, waiting feels like an eternity.

So, he does his best to hurry it up, aching cock twitching against his thigh as he watches your ass take one, two, three fingers before he slips them out and gets back to work with his tongue.

by now, you're a mess against your pillow, huffing at the loss of pressure from his fingers and wanting more, despite the searing pain of it. you can't let him see you actually want this though, so you pretend that huff was a sigh of relief, and he believes it.

he loves it, actually.

"you think I'm done?" he asks, spitting against your rim and now standing up on his knees, hovering over you and snaking his hand up your stomach to one of your free hanging tits.

there, he gropes you while his other hand hurriedly snakes down his pants to get his dick out. "as much as i'd love to hear you scream for me," he starts you, kneading one of your tits in his hands before lining up with your slicked, barely stretched enough hole. "you're gonna have to be quiet."

you accept defeat upon feeling the first stretch of a cock far too big to be inching its way into you. Moaning louder than you needed to or intended to.

"Fuck-" He stops, panicked hand pulling from your tit and instantly going to your mouth to cover it. "shut up."

You moan again against his palm, feeling him stretch you more and more with little to no relief.

He can't stop himself actually, sinking into the tight heat with eager anticipation simply because this is what he wants from you. That strangled feeling of your muscles jerking him off, wiggling under him to get away, all while trying to pretend you don't fucking love the way he stretches you open. "listen to you, fuck, does it hurt?" he asks, only slightly amazed at the way you're taking it.

you nod with a broken sob, drooling onto his hand as you try to adjust to how he slides into you inch by inch.

and then it's still. you feel him twitch repeatedly inside of you, and his heavy breathing behind you while his hand stays in place as even he struggles to adjust.

"does it hurt enough?" he adds, holding himself in place because by now, he's actually struggling more not to plunge into you fully until even his palm can't muffle your cries.

and he's shocked when you shake your head.

you just implied that no, it doesn't hurt enough.

which sets a fucking flame off in his cock, instantly, he's pulling out slightly, and then slamming the entirety of his length into you, relishing in your yelp of how quick he moves. "Oh?" He questions harshly, snapping his hips relentlessly, not at all ignoring how fucking hot you are to him right now. "big sis likes it when it hurts?" he continues, only going harder, deeper into you. "fuck, take all of it then." You struggle to speak, to ask him to stop, let alone to stop moaning at the pure rush of pleasure you feel. by this point, no, don't stop. Go harder, deeper.

You let out a small sound with each hard thrust, rolling your eyes back at the way he makes sure you feel every inch, vein, and pulse of his cock inside of you. stretching you out in a hot and wet way, now only to slip his fingers into your mouth too.

gagging you.

your throat restricts around his fingers the same way your ass does around his cock, and it takes everything in you not to throw a weak hand down and rub your clit.

thankfully, you don't care about self control too much, considering Sunghoon is currently fucking the life out of your ass, and you do. Yeah, you do run your hand down to rub your clit.

"Goddamn, you're really loving this." He chuckles at noticing the way you're pleasuring yourself, each tense of your muscles only hugging his cock tighter. "Yeah, get yourself off." He adds, stilling his hips after pressing his cock as deep into you as it can reach. "Let me feel it." and god, it doesn't take much to let him feel it. You work yourself up so much, feeling so full, and right then and there he feels your orgasm slam through you.

"So fucking tight," he compliments through a wince, experiencing your orgasm through the tight hole trying to push him out. "I couldn't have loosened you up enough if I tried--" he groans, now slamming his hips back, plunging into you yet again.

his thrusts paired with your orgasm does nothing but send him straight into his own heavenly feeling of release.

even as your body relaxes and you try to wiggle away from him, he holds you in place. Shoving his fingers further into your mouth, and pressing your entire body into the bed. His hips chasing to stay deep, and stuttering his entire body behind you as he shoots his cum deeper into your ass, silently moaning out into the air of your sex-fueled bedroom.

and only when he's emptied himself into you does he pull his fingers from your mouth.

and in an instant, his heaving chest and ringing ears sober his horny brain due to the way you suck in a breath and try to quietly cough yourself back to reality. the reality the two of you are faced with is one of two things.

one, this has to stop now that it's gone this far.

two, you've just learned that you like anal, and that your step brother is really good at fucking.

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #.hard hours #.sunghoon #ask #hardthots

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astaroth1357 · 6 months

Text

Oh God, What Have We Done??: Father!Belphegor Headcanons

You know, I was going to write this for Simeon, and I still might, but Belphie lost the Dad poll and I must right an injustice when I see one.

Content: Somehow incredibly fluffy with Big Happy Family vibes; mostly meme fodder

~♡♡♡~

I refuse to believe this could have been planned. No person in their right mind is going to look at Belphie and go, "Oh yeah. That's some real good father material right there!" Belphegor wouldn't even say that to himself.

Either a condom broke, a pill was skipped, or some orphaned demon child imprinted on these two like a baby duck and followed them home. Either way, NO ONE wanted this, but it's happening.

Belphegor's reaction to realizing that he's a Dad:

Everyone else's reaction to realizing Belphegor is a Dad:

Beel's reaction to realizing that he is an Uncle:

But seriously though, Beel is the only one with any kind of unwavering faith that his twin can pull this off. Never doubts him for a second and never will.

Everybody else though....? Well. Satan is already cleaning out the local libraries of their parenting books, Asmo's searching Mommy blogs, and Lucifer keeps staring off into the middle distance like he's questioning every single life decision that has brought them to this point. Fear is rampant, despair is on high.

The biggest worry is that Belphegor is going to leave MC more or less high and dry. He's not exactly known to be a "go-getter" when times are tough and though he has his soft side, sure, no one would call it particularly "nurturing."

Diavolo and Barbs weren't even sure if they should announce the news to the realm. Of course one of the Lords of the Hell having an offspring is a pretty big deal but under these circumstances...

What if it was treated like a joke by the populous? Painting a target for ridicule on Belphie and MC's backs had to be the LAST thing anybody wanted...

Even Belphegor, in a pretty heartbreaking moment of self-reflection, tried to convince Beel to take over for him instead. Not to shirk the responsibility, but out of pure acknowledgement that he would make the better father between them...

Beel, of course, was not having this for a second. And you know what? Everyone would do well to listen to the wisdom of Beel! Because he knew instinctively something that everyone else had conveniently forgotten-

No matter the circumstances, Belphie's kid was a part of the family. And that meant that they, the MC, and even Belphie himself were never going to be doing this alone.

And that fact was proven quickly enough when every member of the family, extended or otherwise, stepped up to lend a hand.

Levi and Mammon took it on themselves to go out and buy whatever baby items they needed and seemingly came in every day with handfuls upon handfuls of bottles, baby gates, socket covers, and TOYS (literally so many toys. They bought more toys than diapers).

Lucifer and Asmo set to work on renovating a nursery/kid's room almost immediately. The eldest had the plans drafted within a week of the news while Asmo buried MC and Belphie in paint swatches and magazine catalogs for the walls and decor.

Satan roped Beel in to help him train Belphegor to be a little less lazy and more attentive to the MC and the baby. Even going so far as to curse a baby monitor to sound like fog horn to him and only him if the kid began to cry.

The angels chipped in with gifts and free offers to babysit (mostly from Simeon, but Luke is already eyeing the little one like a baby sibling and is protective as such).

Solomon uh... Well Solomon offered to cook MC whatever they wanted through the pregnancy at first, but when that got a HARD veto he switched to just giving HoL a touch of magic baby proofing. Nobody can figure out how to get under the kitchen sink anymore, but that means the baby won't either!

And, of course, despite Belphegor not liking him much, Diavolo is probably the BEST psudeo-uncle a kid could have. He's already sent Barbatos out to curate the best baby food and Lucifer is training him on how to hold infants properly so he can take turns being babysitter with Simeon.

As a father... Belphie isn't perfect. He did whine more than a few times about no longer being the "baby" everyone doted on. A couple times, he may even act just as childish as his kid...

But in the moments late at night when he's rocking them in his arms, dead tired from being awake for hours but determined to make sure they sleep first...

Or when he's walking around the House with them tucked to his chest because they'll never cry if he holds them.

How he pays attention to every little thing that interests them so he can craft each of their dreams more exciting than the last...

Or how he, more than any of the others, knows what a precious treasure it is to be with those you love since you never know when they'll be gone...

He'll do alright. With the love and support of everyone else, their child will have everything they need...

As long as they don't turn out as spoiled as he is 💀

#tales from the drafts #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me headcanons

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genshin-scenarios · 8 months

Text

meetings, memories, just for you (lyney x gn!reader)

Summary: You’re a Fatui agent who works under Childe, accompanying him on his visit to Fontaine. There you meet Lyney under the guise of your civilian personas, and it’s not until later when he finds out you’re also part of the Snezhnayan group. However… what he’s more worried about is how to win your affections, as he aggravates (feat. Aether and Paimon’s company) about how to court you.

A/N: Many thoughts and head empty… I got this idea while I was doing chores and really wanted to write it out, so hope you’ll enjoy!

Content warnings: Spoilers regarding context for Childe’s appearance/presence in Fontaine!

Wordcount: 3801

All things considered, your job as an agent under Childe’s authority was less stressful than that of other Fatui you’ve met. Much of your work involved assisting him with diplomatic paperworks, arranging travel plans, and the occasional combat.

While you’d like to say he’d taken an interest in your talents (a hydro vision bearer with a ‘life-stealing’ fighting style), the truth lies in how he’d found you at his family home while delivering something from Pulcinella. You were a regular recruit, and so was weak to his siblings' demands to join them in the snow and help build a gargantuan snowman. (We need more hands! Could you spare a few minutes?—it seemed like they took one look at you and you’d passed some sort of vibe test.)

To be honest, you didn’t have anything important to do save for returning to your base and waiting for other small commands, thus you ended up joining them. What a surprise it was for Childe then, to return home for a visit and see you there; he’d asked if you were working under anyone in particular, recognising your uniform, and asked you to go hunting with him (also for his family’s dinner, so how could you refuse after they’d given you snacks for the road?) And after witnessing your potential in combat, he offered you a place as his subordinate.

It wasn’t a prestigious role, but you made your way up the ranks with enough practice, and his younger siblings much preferred having a familiar face be the point of correspondence between him and themselves when Childe was in other nations - so here you were. An odd inbetween of subordinate, assistant, and friend (loosely termed, seeing as you did your best to not overstep despite how down-to-earth he was).

When he’d told you to arrange a visit to Fontaine, you could tell that Childe was in a low spirited period. His vision started to refuse his commands, and with every battle he’d leave with an even worse mood - all you could do was wordlessly heal his wounds. Your specialty involved trapping targets and healing your allies based on the damage done to enemies, which your peers used to say was akin to ‘balancing the scales’, whatever that’d meant.

Childe was feeling better after you’d first entered Fontaine, yet when he mentioned giving you his vision for safekeeping you were quick to rebuff that you weren’t going to be able to guard it safely.

“Why not pay a visit to Aether, since he’s here?” You’d suggested. Frankly speaking, you were just hoping his usual cheeriness when it came to the Traveler would occur. “In the meantime, I will investigate the matter you assigned to me, Sir.”

That was what you were doing, going around Fontaine in hopes to learn more about the nation’s prophecy. Childe felt drawn here after his bad moods began, and so you hoped to find more clues regarding his dreams of a whale’s shadow.

It was easy to introduce yourself as the assistant of an important noble (not particularly false, since Childe had the mora to show for it). From your questions came responses that either thought the prophecy was farce, or divulged whatever ‘insider information’ they could. Some were quite the gossips, so you at least had an entertaining time listening to them.

“And so, it was said the Hydro Archon would be the only one left on her throne, weeping a sea of tears.” The man dramatically said, eyes shut for a moment of silence. “...Though of course, it’s nothing to worry about with the Chief Justice here. He’s very reliable, and would surely find a solution if it was really true.”

“It seems that not many people believe in its warnings,” you reflect.

“Well, there are better things to focus on if you were living here.” He boasts. “You should try watching one of the court proceedings when you have the time. Once you immerse yourself in the drama of it all, surely you will understand.”

“I will remember that.” A smile graces your lips, preparing to part ways now that you’ve gotten his input on the topic. “Now, if you would excuse me—”

“Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but overhear your discussion of the prophecy?” A voice interrupts your conversation, belonging to a young man with violet eyes and a tear-shaped mark on his cheek.

“We were indeed.” Your expression easily melts into welcome. “Does the topic catch your interest, Mister…?”

“Just Lyney is fine.” He gives you a wink, picking up your hand to kiss your knuckles in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Checking his pocket watch, the man you’d been speaking to earlier bids you both farewell after exchanging pleasantries with Lyney, mentioning that he was looking forward to the ashen-blonde’s next show.

“A show?” You couldn’t help but ask, curiosity pulling you away from your mission just slightly. “Should I be addressing you more formally, as a celebrity of Fontaine?”

“Just hearing my name from your lips is lovelier than any title.” Lyney laughs, and you wonder for a second if saying such words is second-nature to him. He’s quick to take a proper look at you however, and refocuses the topic. “So, you’re a visitor interested in the prophecy of Fontaine - may I ask where this interest comes from?”

You start to walk alongside one another as you converse, the picturesque city passing with your words. “Well… if I have to be honest, it is because of my employer.” You’re well-versed with twisting the truth into a pretty facade. Not many people are accepting of the Fatui. Your exasperated gestures are perfectly authentic however, when you think about the paperwork you had to do for Childe back at Liyue. “I work as an assistant of sorts for him, and take care of menial tasks or passing interests that come to mind.”

“Sounds like a taxing job.” Lyney pauses, contemplating. “Say… If I had a way to alleviate your stress, would you want to try it?”

“So long as it’s not hypnosis,” you joke, but are leaning towards him nonetheless. Seeing it as a sign to continue, Lyney puts on an easy smile and picks up his hat, flourishing and tossing it into the air.

“Keep your eyes on my hat, or you might just miss it.” Deft fingers catch its brim, before presenting it to you with the inside exposed. “Could you check if there’s anything inside?”

Not sure if you were supposed to touch it or not, you instead give it a careful once-over, lowering your head to look closely. “Nope, nothing’s there.”

“Ah, but what’s this?” He moves his hands in wide arcs, flourishing props in the air like a dancer. Taps the hat twice, and a flurry of playing cards rush out and dive towards the ground. In feigned surprise, Lyney moves his hands to catch them. “Oops—”

Only for the cards to catch fire, and out came a pair of doves that flew into the air, up and away.

You don’t think you’ve blinked since Lyney started his trick, which only left you more flabbergasted at the sudden turn of events. When he finally bows and places his hat back on his head, you fight the urge to inspect it once more for some magic pocket.

Collecting yourself, you clap for him, lips pulled into a true smile this time. Lyney’s gaze lingers on the way your eyes crinkle, and he crosses his arms behind his back as he peers at you expectantly.

“How was that?” Eager for your praise, Lyney blinks up at you with the ghost of a smirk. “Did I manage to steal your attention?”

“You certainly did.” Shaking your head, you bow with a hand atop your heart, playing along with his theatrics as you expressed defeat. “With a miracle right in front of me, it’d take a lot not to be in awe.”

A miracle, huh? There’s a twinkle in Lyney’s eyes that you can’t quite decipher. “If you enjoyed that, I’d be happy to perform for you again one day. Or if you’d like to attend one of my shows, I’ll be sure to reserve you a front row seat.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” While you’re very much interested in watching his performances, you didn’t want to feel like you were taking advantage of this encounter. Plus, you were technically here for work. “...But if I manage to get a ticket amongst your other fans, I’ll make sure to cheer the loudest so you’d know I was there.”

There’s a moment where Lyney seems like he’s about to laugh, but holds it back gracefully and nods at your proposal. “I’m sure that even without that, my eyes would be drawn to you all the same.”

What a flirt. “We never did talk about the prophecy, in the end.”

“I didn’t want to be just another passing survey to you.” Lyney shrugs, giving you a mischievous smile. “But if you’d like to meet up another time, I can certainly divulge what knowledge I have.”

“Was this part of your plan, too?” You joke. “Are all magicians the scheming type?”

“I was simply thinking on my feet.” You didn’t say no, which was enough to keep his spirits high.

Suffice to say, when you returned to your room that night and finished writing up a report to give to Childe, the Harbinger was quick to ask you about the flower tucked into your hair.

A flower that you did not realize was there until Childe had pointed it out, asking if you met someone today.

Cheeks burning at the realization you’d not only walked around the entire city with this, but also that it was a Rainbow Rose associated with passion and romance. There was only one person that could’ve gotten close enough for this; Lyney.

So of course, in a very mature fashion, you swore to yourself to not let this go the next time you meet him. You wore the same rainbow rose as a brooch when you attended his show, which seemed to delight the magician greatly. After a few more encounters, you could say that the both of you were friends.

…Well, somewhere between all of that, you became aware that Lyney and his sister also belonged to the House of the Hearth, which functioned under the Knave. Your superior had an obvious dislike for his colleague, but you put that little fact behind you. (It wasn’t like a person’s superior defined who they were. If that were the case, were you supposed to be as battle-forward as Childe?)

But whether or not Lyney was aware you were also a Fatuus leaves room for guesswork, until one day, without your knowledge, he’d seen you in the distance - about to call out to you in his usual manner until he noticed your company.

It was part of his job to at least be aware of who the harbingers were, even if he didn’t have to know their histories down to a tee. And seeing you, obviously quite familiar with Childe, made a number of conflicting theories jumble in his head.

What was your relationship with the Harbinger? Did you know Childe’s true identity? Were you and him…

Thankfully, Aether was quick to clear up his worries when they ran into each other a few hours later, after noticing that Lyney seemed more distracted than usual. At their explanation of how you were Childe’s subordinate, your explanation of your job finally fell into place.

With one concern dealt with, another arose; if you worked closely with a harbinger feared on the battlefield, were you truly impressed by Lyney’s own tricks?

A part of Lyney’s pride sunk as he overcomplicates the matter in his head, covering his eyes as if to fight off a headache. “Aether, what do I do?”

“What do you mean?” Paimon asks in confusion. “Isn’t this a good thing? Since you’re both Fatui, you don’t have to worry about them being afraid of your history!”

“How can I impress a person that’s seen much more in their life than the average audience?” His words make little sense, but Aether fights back a laugh; this was simply Lyney’s slow acceptance of this newfound information. He must truly hold you in high regard to worry about impressing you.

“Your magic tricks impressed us,” Aether reminds him. “And we’ve fought a lot of enemies, and gods, including Y/N’s superior.”

Paimon agrees. “Mmhm! And Y/N even apologized to us afterwards, telling us to go easy on Childe after he… ah… The point is, they're nice despite working for that troublesome guy. So… cheer up?”

“I saw them wearing a rainbow rose in their hair the other day.” Aether adds. “That was yours, wasn’t it?”

As if conjuring the image straight into his mind, Lyney’s now covering his face for an entirely different reason. “They’re wearing it?” God, his cheeks are burning.

Why is it that every time he thinks of you, just the memory of your smile is enough to make his brain malfunction?

‘Brother, you know I care about you, but aren’t you worried you’ll never get anywhere if you’re not straightforward about your intentions?’

Perhaps it was time to take Lynette’s advice… and as she’s told him before, there are some things that they don’t have to handle alone, so long as they involve the right people.

When you’re assigned to do an errand with another Fatuus in Fontaine, you didn’t think much of it. While you were capable of fighting and exploring on your own, diving underwater in a foreign nation was probably not a good idea for you to tackle by yourself.

What you didn’t expect however, was for Lyney to be said Fatuus; and your brain immediately makes the link back to Childe’s unusual tone earlier, telling you to take your time while investigating the underwater ruins. (And also to get a cool souvenir for his siblings, if you saw one.)

You’re understandably nervous after Lyney explained how to breathe underwater, saying that once you get used to it, diving in is easy. He’s quick to notice your apprehension even as you steel yourself to jump, repeating to yourself that this was for work.

“...But for now, it would be discourteous of me to just throw you into the deep end.” Lyney’s gaze grows soft, offering you his hand. You take it, trying not to look too relieved that he’s simply leading you in by walking from the shore. “Close your eyes, hold on to me… Alright. You can open them now.”

It’s beautiful underwater, is the first thing that comes to mind.

Lyney watches you fondly as you take in the sea around you; colorful plants, sea creatures roaming, and the wonderful sparkle of sunlight sifting in from the sky.

“It’s breathtaking,” he voices your thoughts, though his gaze is on something else closer to him. Lyney clears his throat, swimming forward, still holding your hand. “While I can’t take credit for this, it is quite a magical sight, no?”

Now that you’ve calmed down, you notice the faint elemental energy emanating from the both of you. The way his hat still manages to stay intact makes the corner of your lips tug. “It is. Thank you for your help.”

You’re about to release his hand now that you’ve found your balance, but Lyney is quick to pout. “You don’t want to keep holding on to me?”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” You laugh, untangling your fingers for the sake of practicality, then nudging his shoulder playfully before swimming off to explore. You can hear his chuckle from behind you as Lyney matches your speed, leading the way to the ruins which may hold clues about Fontaine’s fall.

It feels more like a rendezvous than a mission, to be honest. Lyney tells you stories about the times he and his siblings would come down here, and how Freminet was more familiar with diving, though he’s happy to be chosen to be here with you instead (at your poking, Lyney does admit that this might’ve been arranged with the help of one golden-haired traveler. You’ll have to thank Aether and Childe later on, you suppose.)

Your conversation falls short when your eyes land on an otter, immediately captivated by its cute form and the seashell between its paws. You try your best to maintain some professionalism, but it’s clear in the way you keep glancing back that you’d give anything to get closer and say hi.

With a gesture to get your attention, Lyney leads the way towards the otter, offering it a present to enter its good graces. It tilts its head at the romaritime flower in Lyney’s palm, which then begins to glow a warm amber from the inside with a gentle application of pyro.

Effectively charmed, the otter swims over curiously, making little noises as it flips around in excitement at the sight of the flower’s changing hues. It looked like a shifting sunrise, and you took the opportunity to perform a trick of your own using your vision, manipulating hydro to form tiny fishes that swam around the three of you.

How can Lyney put it… If it was possible to extend this period of time for an eternity, he’d be more than happy to live in this moment forever.

Underwater, there is no one to perform or keep facades for. And with you, a part of himself has always felt more at ease; as if it was fine to spend a moment not as the mystical magician he’s known and adored for.

While he does enjoy seeing your eyes widen with awe at his magic, Lyney thinks it’s more dangerous for himself to become so relaxed in your presence. Just what would he do if he forgot to put his mask back on once you resurfaced, and the weight of water became too much for him to bear?

Maybe he can figure out a better way to memorialize this excursion; he’s heard quite a bit about preserving flowers in resin, so perhaps there’s also a way to add colors to the ornament to replicate underwater hues.

A few hours pass as you explore together, darting between shipwrecks and ruins, and the occasional battles with mechas or aggressive creatures. Somewhere along the fourth wave of mechanical enemies you were starting to wonder if Childe sent you to a dangerous spot on purpose to - as he might put it - ‘bond over battle’ and impress your crush.

While you certainly didn’t want Lyney to think you were useless in combat, every time you spearheaded an attack felt slightly performative as you destroyed the mechas. You felt like there was a gaze burning into your back. Not one of hidden assassins, but the magician who’d been oddly silent compared to his usual self; as if contemplating something.

(It would take much provocation for Lyney to admit it was because you looked very cool, and he doesn’t know why he’s starting to get bashful about the way you expertly disposed of the enemies, vision singing with a wonderful glow. It’s almost like a dance - more graceful than violence was allowed to be.)

(In other words, he was trying not to speak unless he was sure his voice wouldn’t come off as unsteady, seeing as his mind was starting to blank at how attractively reliable you are.)

Perhaps if you were on land, Lyney might be quick to join in this little game of impressing one-another. But here, his arrows could only do so much. And while effective, pyro could not travel as far underwater compared to your element.

He’s slowly realizing that without borrowing the abilities of hydro constructs around the ocean floor, he might’ve been fully assigned as the rescuable maiden in this situation.

While disenchanting, the thought also makes an idea spring into his mind. Before you could turn and tell him you were done gathering samples (and thus you could finally go back to the surface), Lyney casually tells you to hold on for a second, as there was something in your hair.

“Huh? But I didn’t feel anything—”

Surrounded by nothing but open space and marine treasures, Lyney steals your breath away with a kiss that ties a promise from his heart to your fingertips. He decided that so long as you were gracious enough to welcome his presence, he would fold to you like a flower opening its petals, enveloping you in his warmth whenever he could.

Even with nothing to threaten you here, his hands snake around your waist and shoulder, pulling you closer as if to hide you from the light filtering from above; as if that would take you away from the illusions of magic that he so expertly crafts, for something more ‘real’.

It’s a kiss to tell you that this is real. This moment, the reasons behind his touch and glance, and the fact that he’d very willingly spend hours and hours at the bottom of the sea with you, no strings attached, without a complaint from his lips.

In fact, was it a little selfish for Lyney to enjoy monopolizing your attention in this way? Not having to fight against the bright colors and sounds of the beautiful court of Fontaine, with honest-but-lengthy endearments falling from his tongue as if stopping would mean one less second under your gaze?

You’d never once complained about his lack of talkativeness today, compared to his usual demeanor which presents himself like a spell to dazzle the senses. Never commented on his gestures that feel more gentle than luring; and though both parallels are true aspects of himself, he was starting to think you understood the grandiosity of his character. Lyney the Magician, who steals hearts and does the impossible.

Both statements were true, though perhaps in a more meaningful way now than in the eyes of the public. He can scarcely believe it himself whenever you return his affection, alert but not evasive of his approach.

A week later, a parcel arrives for you. It’s a glass orb with a rainbow rose at its center, with smaller pieces of romaritime petals surrounding it, like glitter falling on an angelic stage.

There are layered traces of pigment in the resin, reminding you of the day you spent underwater. Suppose it was largely successful of Lyney then, for your first thought to be that the rose reminded you of his charm. Not as a motif of allurement, but echoing the kind wishes behind his actions.

You always liked how the roses he’s made you associate with himself were not red, but pink. The latter suits him a lot more, in your humble opinion.

#lyney x reader #lyney genshin impact #lyney x you #genshin lyney x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin reader insert #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin writing #genshin scenarios #traveler wishes

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unknowndrone · 8 months

Text

Yelena’s Diary

Yelena Belova X Fem!Reader

Prompt: Natasha finds Yelena’s diary which results in the contents of the diary getting revealed to you.

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: siblings threatening to kill each other

__________

She should’ve known better. As the greatest spy and assassin in the world with a sibling with a similar title, she should’ve known that unless that diary was sewn to her body, Natasha was somehow going to get her grubby hands on it.

“Give it back, Natasha!” She hisses.

They were like school girls, things that Yelena would only ever see happening in the American TV shows, not between two assassins. Natasha flips through the pages, while simultaneously dodging Yelena’s efforts to retrieve the book.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. How many chapters are you going to spend complaining about the team and complimenting Y/N?” she questions.

“Natasha, I am not afraid to stab you!” the younger sister threatens.

“Do it,” Natasha challenges. “I bet you’d love to explain to Y/N why you felt the need to stab her favorite Black Widow.”

“-you are not her favorite Black Widow!”

“Just because you wrote it in your diary doesn’t mean it’s actually true-”

“Stop it!” Yelena screams once more. This time she pounces on to her sister’s shoulders. Natasha wildly spins knowing that Yelena was seconds away from putting her into a choke hold before throwing Yelena on to the bed.

Natasha paces away, flipping through the pages and gaining a few more paragraphs before her sister would rush to attack once more. “Who taught you to draw a heart like that, Lena?”

The younger widow pouts. “Give it back, Natasha!”

That’s the thing about older siblings. They’re a menace.

At this point, the two widows were running through the compound. The blonde chasing the red head with no one to stop them. No one except-

The elevator door opens, revealing you. You just returned from your mission only to see Natasha trying to evade Yelena who looked ready to murder her. You raise your eyebrow, noticing how they were far too busy trying to fight each other that they didn’t hear the elevator door.

Your eyes dart to see Steve walking past you with a book in his hand. Tapping his shoulder to get his attention, you gesture towards the widows. “What happened?”

Steve only lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yelena’s been chasing Nat for hours.” He explains before leaving you to your thoughts.

As amusing as it is to watch the two widows play a game of cat and mouse, you figured that it was time for the two to reconcile as you carefully approach them, making sure not to get too close just in case Yelena decides to throw a knife at Natasha and you aren’t able to dodge it in time.

Eventually you get close enough, crossing your arms, fighting the amused smirk that was forming at your lips. When you let out a cough, the fight instantly stops. Natasha smiles brightly when she sees you, almost too brightly. Meanwhile, Yelena looks more horrified than she is happy. Part of your heart wrenches as to why she looks so disheartened to see you. She was always happy to see you.

“That’s enough fighting for you two, don’t you think?” You suggest, eyes darting between Yelena and then Natasha.

Natasha glances at Yelena, nodding, “I agree.” Her response only earns another glare from the blonde widow.

“How was your mission?” Yelena asks you.

You shrug, “Standard.” Your eyes catch at what seems like a journal in Natasha’s hand. “I didn’t know you journal, Nat.”

Natasha holds the book up, the smile on her face becoming more mischievous. “Oh me? Oh no,this isn’t mine. This is-”

“Natasha stop! Don’t you dare ruin this for me!” Yelena hisses.

But just before Natasha can say anything, Yelena pounces on her. Your eyes widen at the violence and Yelena’s sudden persistence. You knew if you didn’t act now, the floors of the Avengers facility might be painted red. So your arms grab Yelena’s shoulders and you pull her until her back is flushed against you.

“That’s enough!” you bark, trying to get the two siblings to stop.

Yelena almost instantly relaxes in your hold. It wasn’t your first time holding her. In fact, you’ve hugged her many times before whether it be before missions when you return home from missions or whenever she’s upset. Your touch was like an instant sedative.

This one especially.

Natasha sighs in relief, but her hand was still clutching the book. When she meets eyes with her sister, she notices how Yelena almost looks like she melted into a pool of her own love for you. Regardless, you pull Yelena away, dragging her to her room before things get worse.

“Oh here’s your book Yelena…” Natasha teases, handing the book to her sister. Yelena quickly snatches it before you could get your hands on it. You know better than to ask questions seeing how pissed Yelena was. You figured that you would have a chat with Natasha as to why she’s going through her sister’s belongings later. For now, you need to make sure Yelena has cooled down.

The two of you are now sitting in your room. Yelena is laying in bed while you are getting changed into more comfortable clothes. The book is held protectively over her chest. It seems to be super glued to her like she didn’t want anyone seeing what was inside.

“So…is there anything in that private journal I don’t know about?” you tease while slipping on your pajamas.

The blonde blushes profusely, “no,” she speaks a little too quickly.

“I’m not pushing, Lena. I was just curious,” you shrug. “You’re allowed to have your own private thoughts.”

Yelena looks at you for a while. She’s been doing that a lot recently where you would notice her gaze on you seemed to linger longer than expected. It made you curious at what was going through her little head.

Eventually, you plop yourself on the bed next to her and, like many other nights before, you two bask in each other’s presence. You found her shoulder comforting, so you lay your head there, too, observing her reaction intently. To your surprise, you feel her muscles visibly tense for a moment before easing into your warmth.

“Is everything okay?” you ask her suddenly.

“Everything is fine,” the assassin dismisses. “Just stop talking…”

Of course, her dismissive attitude made you just slightly more worried. Yelena was your best friend. The only time she was ever like this is when she’s afraid of something but she’s too scared to tell you. Just like the time she was secretly afraid of the sound of thunder so she actively avoided Thor and also tended to blast your music louder than usual during a storm. You knew just as well as Natasha when something was wrong with Yelena.

“You can tell me,” you whisper in the silence.

“I can’t.” Yelena whispers back, her voice small. “This is different. I-I can’t share it with you.”

You pout, looking over your shoulder to see her expression. “Why?”

“Because it’s not a good idea.”

You frown, “Do you not trust me?”

“This is different,” Yelena emphasizes more. “It will change how you look at me.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you lean into her shoulder more. “If it’s another assassination regret, you know I would never-”

“No…it’s not that.”

“But it’s bothering you,” you reason.

“No it’s not.”

You know better than to keep questioning Yelena knowing she wasn’t going to relent so you two continue to sit through the silence. You would give many things just to see what was going through her head right now or what was written in that journal of her’s that she wasn’t allowing you to see.

Part of your heart might know, but your brain looked at your denial and turned it into cold hard facts.

“If you started dating someone else, would you leave me?” Yelena asks suddenly.

“What?”

The blonde assassin nods slowly, “Would you forget about me?”

“Why would I forget about you? You’re my best friend-”

The word ‘best friend’ seems to only upset Yelena further in the way her eyes fall. You see it right away and you stop talking.

Yelena sniffles. “I don’t want to be your best friend. I want you to like me. You know? The one where you draw hearts around our names!” she blurts.

Your jaw goes slack for a moment in complete disbelief. “Y-Yelena…”

The blonde turns away from you, not wanting to face you or the consequences of her words. But you are quick to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Lena look at me…” you whisper gently.

Slowly, she turns, but her eyes don’t quite meet yours. “I ruined everything, right?”

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you shake your head. “No…no you didn’t. Would it be hard for you to believe if I said I liked you back?”

It takes a moment for the blonde to process. She didn’t even think she heard you right the first time. “M-me?”

You nod slowly, “yes you, dummy.”

If she wasn’t so enamored by the realization, she would be pouting, but hearing you say those words cause her eyes to light up like a Christmas tree. You pull her close to you.

“I like you too, Lena. I was also scared that if I told you I would ruin things,” you admit.

“Really?” Yelena questions in disbelief.

You nod slowly, “Really…”

You feel Yelena lean into your touch which allows you to press a soft kiss to her forehead. You couldn’t help but notice the smile that paints the blonde assassin’s face. It was like a schoolgirl who just found out her crush liked her back.

As you both enjoy each other’s company, another thought crosses your mind. “Wait Yelena what did you put about me in your diary?”

Yelena starts blushing as she buries her head into your shoulder. “Nothing.”

“Do you draw hearts around our names?” you tease.

“Stop it-”

“Will you let me see what you write about me in your diary?”

“No.” she says firmly, burying her head more into your shoulder.

For the rest of the night, the two of you enjoy each other’s company. A smile painted on both of your faces.

__________

OKay guyyysss i got hella lazy at the ending bc I couldn’t think of shit, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. Also, I totally havent had this sitting in my files for like 8 months...I hope everything is well with yall. Have a great day/night and rest well!

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #yelena belova x fem!reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #fic: medium #fix your window idiot

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personne-reblogs · 1 year

Text

AUTISTIC SWEEP

The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise.

The curtains are closing.

The lights are dimming.

The air still feels filled with static, though.

This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings.

Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.

He lets out a genuine chuckle.

Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight.

“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”

The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it.

“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles.

“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”

He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky.

“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”

Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”

“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.”

“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”

Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought.

“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”

“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”

“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”

Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”

“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”

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

In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient.

The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment.

The crowd is gone.

The curtains are closed.

The lights are off.

For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.

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

EDIT: there is now a sequel!

YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE

Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol

CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)

@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!

All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU

#donnie sweep #mob sweep #autismswagsummit #donatello #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #mob #writing #my writing #original content #i dunno how i tag these anymore

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diorcities · 1 month

Text

ace of spades (zcl)

☆͟ 🎱:pairing: chenle x afab!reader ☆ genre: smut, mature content. ☆͟ ♠️ content: pwp, gambling, rivals / frenemies, meandom!chenle, softdom!chenle, oral fixation, skin fixation, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (chenle pulls out), cum eating, spanking, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, make up sex, biting. some other cautions: small mention of a crime, alcohol consumption, chenle calls himself daddy once, they're both competitive, intense and extend kiss scene (i love writing this), reader makes one incestual joke, featuring jisung, ningning being chenle's sister, haechan, the hwang siblings, ex former nmixx jini, an yujin and hu yunjin. ☆ wc: 6.4k.

☆͟ 🃏description: in the world of asia's rich and powerful, nothing is as it seems. behind the smiles and luxuries, secrets, lies, and betrayals are hidden. a group of pretentious young adults, children of wealthy parents from the asian elite, move between parties, business, and scandals.

son of the west's most famous tech tycoon, chenle is arrogant, capricious, and manipulative; his unquenchable thirst for glory and greatness moves him to do the most despicable things if it keeps him getting what he wants: you.

based on little white lies by one direction. to my friend, @ohmytyong ♡

ningning shares a glance at jini.

“stop that,” she says with annoyance. the girl ends up stopping the clattering of her foot on the pavement and disposing of the cigarette; ningning has lost count of how many she has on him.

“what if someone saw us?”

“what if?” ningning responds, distracted. “are you worried, little lamb?” ningning was growing tired of the whining of the girl. pure empty concerns, in her opinion. “i thought you wanted this. i thought... you'd kill for it. what if someone saw us? no, better, what if one of us speaks? would it be her brother? would it be... you?”

“hi, girls.” yeji arrives offering them both a cup of loaded coffee. “god, you look like you're losing your shit,” she says to jini.

“i don't like coffee,” she points out.

“i know,” yeji simply responds.

jini lets out a disbelieving sigh. “fuck! am i the only one who's worried of what we've done?” she utters seeking comfort, as if she didn't already know that she won't find it there.

the girls share a countenance that makes jini more uneasy. she opens her mouth to surely continue complaining when she leaves ningning expectant and dazed when nothing comes out.

“what you've done,” you correct, announcing your arrival. “lighter, please.”

ningning shares fire with you while jini watches you in a bewildered look when you share complicit glances with each other but her. “first murder?” you joke, looking at the girl's colorless face.

the three of you watch pleasurably her head putting the puzzle together and the realization settling in her stomach. “you.”

you smile wide and sharp.

you've always found the strange relationship intriguing. questioning every smile and every look; they all play a game that was best not to get into unless you know how to play equally well.

the queen of the deck game.

ningning, with her wit that sparkles like a sharp diamond always seems to be two steps ahead, leaving you to wonder if her words hide sharper edges. yeji, with eyes that have seen more than they tell, hides her true interests under enigmas, and you wonder if her shadowy wisdom is a guide or a labyrinth. jini, with her appetite for success and fortune echoing like a flame, is attracted so much by the heat that she can't stop until it burns.

sometimes you don't know how far the limit is. sometimes you'd like to know it for yourself. one misstep, one wrong play, the stakes are high, and faces are masks.

although, you've always known how to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

the academy bell rings and you take the coffee from jini's cold hands. you smile condescendingly as the girl seems to have seen a ghost. “next time, do like me and go for the head.”

── 11:30hr 🃏 ago ──

the outlook was promising. the wealthiest people in asia all gathered in one place. the ensembles, clubs, and parties were in abundance as they made deals to become more millionaires with jazz music playing in the background.

the world revolves around the rich. sports cars, expensive champagne, private schools, commodities. the privileged part envied by the masses. gambling, scandals, fraud, felonies, cults, crimes, scams, obsessions was the side that was kept secret. with ambition comes power, and with power comes temptation. something that young blood can't control after tasting a pinch of it.

chenle had had enough of that.

other, less mundane things excited him now. like seeing your delicate skin bristle when you noticed his presence very close to you, your body tense up, your breath freeze in your throat because god forbid it to be so close; chenle had taken all his willpower to contain the urge to bite your naked shoulder.

the eyes of your companions register it under your ignorance. haechan smiles smugly as jisung says, “look who's here. done sucking your father's balls?”

chenle arrives at the circle with a nonchalant air. “ask your mother.” haechan bursts out laughing.

ningning approaches in an ethereal halo with a glass of champagne between her claws of the same shade as her lips. she's machiavellian beautiful, with sharp features, her beauty is certainly a weapon. chenle's aware of the influence ningning has on people, and couldn't be more disgusted by it. “gentlemen, having a reunion without me?”

“god forbid. i have not yet psyched myself up to put up with you so early.” jisung replies, stealing a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

the illusion is stronger when you are together. chenle has grown up with you, he has known you all his life. something so secret and twisted can only exist with people with the same tendencies. and while friendships are bound by affection, you are bound by secrets.

a circle. an alliance. the selected and exclusory society of the young wealthiest children. forged with vice and deception, glory and greed. to be the best. to be the ace.

“so, how's business? making deals to sell personal information to the highest bidder?” haechan wonders, playing with a loose strap of ningning's dress while giving chenle a sly smile although his gaze is not even interested in returning the look at him, somehow spellbound by the nice view in front of him.

he shrugs behind you, “marvelous, how's yours?”

“my dad's closing a deal with one of the big ones. he's been talking to me about it, i couldn't be more bored by the criminal laws,” he concedes, vaguely.

“oh, pardon me. i meant the drug business,” chenle points out causing a flurry of reactions. jisung chokes on the champagne in front of you. his cheeks are flushed and he is flustered from the alcohol.

giggly and careless, your brother's naïveté makes him the weakest link of all. jisung is simply too good and disinterested in anything that doesn't involve going against you. sometimes you wonder if he is so afraid of disappointment that he doesn't even try.

he's never been good at drinking either.

“don't you think you're overdoing it?” chenle casually asks, looking around.

“stay out of my business, would you?” he says fed up before going in his direction and giving him a playful headlock. the pleasant laughter of the pair makes the rest of the group join in just before the music changes and becomes livelier.

ningning lets out a scream and hurries up the champagne, taking haechan to the track without any objection.

“ji, dance with me,” you request under the nagging gaze of the only boy who's unmoved by your charms.

“don't be capricious, sister. you know i don't dance.”

“allow me.”

before you can answer, chenle grabs you and drags you toward the center of the room. the closeness of your bodies only makes it harder for you to manage to stay neutral, not when his fingers seem to be caressing your waist. “how aristocratic, since when do you like to dance?” chenle shrugs his shoulders as he leads you.

“i'm tentative. i am quickly influenced by beautiful things. and because this proximity can be excused if we dance, otherwise, how am i going to be able to tell you without raising suspicions that i know a little secret?”

chenle is entertained by the reaction he gets from you, feeling your heart pounding against his chest. look at you, a whole personification of purity, too bad it can't stand alone. “what about a gentleman never tells?” a sly smile forms on his pursed lips as he hears you.

chenle pulls you to him, your jaw now resting on his shoulder as he embraces you and spins you in his arms. “i am no gentleman.”

“no,” you say, “you're vain, vicious, and perverse.” chenle takes your chin in a playful and twistedly affectionate manner, observing your body slowly spinning until you press your back against his chest. you sway to the melody when you hear chenle clearing his throat. his breath hits your cheek when he laughs then, his hands press you more against him.

you muffle an exhale as you feel him pressing against your back, his hands molding to your waist, the dominant grip he holds you under. “and yet, you find yourself fascinated.” chenle makes you face him, and you shake your head with peppiness. “explain this... lingering feeling every time we touch. i know you feel it too.”

“what thing?”

“this tension.”

“i'm afraid i have no idea what you're talking about.”

“oh, no? may i ask why are you get suddenly agitated when i touch you here.” he moves his hand dangerously toward your naked lower back. “d'you run out of air often, princess, or it's just me?” his warm breath brushes against your ear as he keeps you close.

chenle's intoxicating aroma clutters your thoughts, and you have to make an extra effort not to trip over his feet. “these are your tactics for flirting with girls? i'm very unimpressed.” chenle watches you roll your eyes, curling his lips.

“not remotely close, although i'm pleased that you are interested in knowing my seduction methods. but since you're talking about tactics, i'm deeply curious about whether this is how you act with haechan too or it's just for my eyes only.”

the piece is finished and another one begins right after. however, your bodies remain frozen in the same place, gazes glaring at each other, trying to see weakness, trying not to be the first to bend.

“and that act you talk about is...?”

“playing dumb, which i confess, never looked good on you.” you were always amazed at how chenle's brain worked. calculating wit, this personification of scheming and wickedness made chenle a dangerous adversary.

“i thought you liked them compliant and subtle.”

he hums in denial, “i like them dainty and haunted, like a drowned lily.”

you giggle with a grimace, throwing the boy off. “is that one of your puzzles? sorry, i don't like games.” chenle nods, his tongue playfully pushing the inside of his cheek as he grins in amusement.

you wouldn't be so careful not to play his game. he is a prodigy at plotting, there was nothing that escaped him. the deceptive epitome of why no one beat him at strategy. nothing that would imply competition. billiards, fencing, chess.

if you could describe this interaction, if you could describe even the purpose of the allyship with such devious people it would be a simple card game, and if so, that would make chenle the ace of spades.

chenle escorts you off the dance floor. “no, you just like the chase.”

“what makes you think that?”

he shrugs, with nonchalant air, “i happen to know how much you love the euphoria of being caught doing something you're not supposed to. maybe that's why you hang out with friends who wouldn't hesitate to push you off a cliff, or be part of a circle with such vain people, or how much you want me to fuck you on this dress.”

you burst out laughing, “you're the smartest person in the room.”

chenle delights to see you look around in case anyone has heard him; he also hasn't gone unnoticed the way your breath got stuck in your throat for his words, and you hate yourself for it. he comes so close to you that you smell his manly fragrance. “no. i'm the most ambitious.” his warm lips rest on your skin for less than a second, yet the feeling it leaves in your stomach lasts longer than that.

you let the bewilderment win, and you hate him for that. you hate how he can get into people's heads, how he can mess with yours. by laying his intentions so bare, it can't be that simple. what does he intend to do?

“see you at midnight.”

your eyes follow his devilish figure as he leaves the room, and your hand itches at the place where he kissed you. someone comes next to you and you suddenly feel a sense of rage.

“good evening, would you like to da...?”

a hand reaches out towards you but you cut it off when you pronounce “no.” harshly, reenacting the path taken by the young man with fervent eyes.

── 🃏 midnight ──

the music becomes so subdued, carried by the cool night wind, that it seems like a distant, forgotten dream that slips through a forgotten room full of previous gala guests revealing their true selves after a pretend night when you set foot inside.

there is a pool table in the center where two beautiful bodies touch each other impudently. the air feels heavy and ningning steals a bottle from her father's collection, returning to the hungry embrace of her lover that night.

haechan pulls away from her neck just enough to give you a sly smile.

“well, hi, there,” greets ningning. “done using my brother?” your fingers snatch the bottle of champagne from her, taking a long sip. “oh, i was starting to be afraid that sharing wasn't your thing.” your eyes sweep her under the amused gaze of the tanned boy with lipstick smudged all over his face.

“and i was starting to think incest was your thing.” a pleasing rush washes you by ningning's stunned look, it feels gratifying. “luckily, this is a safe zone.”

she scoffs.

“safe zone, huh?”

“yes,” you assure, “we've grown up together, we're close. it almost feels like family.”

haechan's laughter echoes just when you scan the room.

“cheers to that.” jini laughs, approaching as she drinks from her glass. “let's make a toast for stealing achievements, and stealing boyfriends,” she says to ningning under your bewildered gaze. both girls clink their glasses and their venomous gazes fix on you.

“i don't steal achievements, i own them. but, yes, let's have a toast.” you clear your throat and your fingers steal the glass from jini's hands without her showing any resistance. “to the circle, to camaraderie, to the ace, to boy toys, and last but not least, a toast to the copycats.”

it will always amazed you how you could show your darker side to a bunch of petulant and vain young people and distrust them so much. these people, these twisted people were your friends by default.

besides the pool table, there is a small bar where jisung pours himself a glass of many in the company of the hwang siblings, yeji and hyunjin, sons of the hwang dynasty. their parents were renowned businessmen in the country and that night future partners of your parents, with riches made by extraction and export of precious minerals. haechan was the only child of attorneys who worked in the tax and criminal fields, with the best criminal law firm and soon closing an important alliance at that night's gala. and finally, the zhong. specialized in computer engineering and big data, they've created an empire that ningning and chenle were responsible for squandering.

then there were the... twins? cousins? known, perhaps? you couldn't tell since they both behaved the same way —yujin and yunjin. one was the daughter of fencing's most prestigious director and the other had nouveau riche parents, who were at the time, having a bliss as chenle buried his head (and teeth) in their necks at times.

his shirt is a mess and you soon find out why when yujin runs her hands over his toned, pale chest. then yunjin laughs at something chenle says to her before they both look in your direction and you feel your cheeks burn, choleric.

how dare he? turn you into a joke that he can tell in the ears of his lovers?

“new attendees?” you ask.

“applicants,” chenle corrects.

“in that case, shall we vote?” you suggest, feigning to get the attention of the others. yujin lets out a skeptical huff that chenle tries to ease, but it has already triggered your bigotry. “get. out.”

yujin looks at you dumbfounded as chenle's embrace unravels from their shoulders. helpless, yunjin asks with an anxious laugh, “who do you think you are? chenle?” she seeks for comfort that the boy shakes off when he shrugs his shoulders.

yunjin laughs in awe before leaving in sheer frustration and giving you a dirty look, that you politely respond to with a quick smirk, deciding to back out once you've done your job of ruining his night just as he ruined yours.

you hear chenle's shrill giggle behind you as he decides to follow you closely to the now-unoccupied pool table. “jealous, by any chance?”

“remotely. sick, perhaps.”

“is that what causes you not to have my attention?”

you scoff, “quite the opposite. a friendly game?” chenle takes his eyes off the lower part of your body when you turn around to face him. his darkened eyes go from yours to the cue stick you're holding. a smile dances on his pouting pink lips.

“i like a little bit of challenge.”

“a competition, then,” you solve, going for the rack when chenle intercepts you by taking you by the wrist to go for it instead. the balls are arranged just as ningning's high-pitched laughter breaks out in a soft melody drifting from the floor below.

“stop being so loud, woman.”

jisung turns his head from your direction to look with amusement at the pair. “shall we move the party to the lake?” yeji suggests; they steal a couple more bottles, and a couple of cigars making their way to the exit amidst stumbling and fraternal hugs. jini stays behind, pulling away from jisung and hyunjin's arms to ask, “you coming?”

chenle is not interested in looking at her when he replies “in a moment.” his eyes fixing on yours. a slit of light enters through the half-open door of the illuminated corridor, and chenle's eyes absorb every glimpse of it. “do the honors.”

the crackling of a fireplace warms the place and flutters your chest, or is the gentle brush on chenle on your waist when you head toward the cue ball. chenle watches you from the other end, and that's why your body leans more than necessary and the breeze hits your cleavage.

“has the match already started?” he wonders, darting his gaze from you. his wild eyes following the path of the balls shooting in all directions; you see his mind scheming behind his focused gaze as his feet move in the direction of his target.

chenle disappears from your view and your body betrays you when you smell his lingering fragrance closer. feeling his presence behind you, the proximity once again tortures you. your body is caught in the middle as he prepares to shoot the cue ball with you in his arms.

the warmth emanating from his body impact your naked back as he pins you between him and the table, makes possible for you to feel the growing bulge pushing against your lower back; the unexpected friction catches you off guard. your pelvis twitches in an involuntary motion and chenle misses the cue ball.

he muffles a sound at the time you bite your lips, struggling to suppress the thrill of electricity that runs through you when your mind becomes dense and thick. your body charge with elation and you blush when he hums, the mere gesture sending shivers down your spine. chenle tenses against your body as your back gives in and arch into him, hips moving slightly upward feeling his erection a little more pressing up your butt; the thin fabric of your dress causing the sensation to feel even rawer.

your mind doesn't think it through as you lean across the table taking the cue stick from his hands. fingers instinctively going to your waist as you bend over. dizzily sensing the hardness of his boner, your chest heaves as an avid thrill takes force in your gut.

chenle welcomes you again when you get up and the number 1 ball has entered the pocket. you feel his haunting presence as he removes the cascade of hair from your shoulder and moves closer to your ear, “and it's only just beginning to be midnight.”

you hum, “i'm done with the fun here, i'd like to go to the lake now.” a gasp of surprise freezes in your throat as his hand squeezes on your waist and easily turns you around. you witness the words that freeze in his throat as his gaze drifts below your clavicles, and you are aware at that moment of the soft hardness of your nipples, poking through the silky fabric.

a velvety feeling creeps down your thighs as a smirk blooms on his lips. “not the smartest decision, but sure shit, princess. anything else you crave for?”

“not really.”

a gasping sound comes out of your mouth when chenle squeezes you close to him without forewarning. something wild flutters in your chest under the young man's sharp gaze. your lips part to let out shallow exhalations when his mouth dangerously lurks on yours, tingling with anticipation. eyes closing against your will and body giving in to his command. you become lighter as he holds you like he pleases. “you sure?”

the answer trembles on your lips, but you are unable to say it.

chenle enjoys having you this way. seeing you so affected, your body reacting the way he wants it to. “say the magic words, princess.” you swallow hard when he lurks on your exposed neck, surprising you when your head pulls back to give him more access.

you wait. you anticipate his lips finally resting on your skin, blood burning in your veins, eager to feel him, but you are stunned when he pulls away just enough to look at you again.

your eyesight has become narrow, covered with black fog, your gaze feel heavy if you try to focus on him. you look at him with narrowed eyes. breath becoming a wild beast that writhes and lashes out at your ribcage. mind blurring his sculpted figure with sharp strokes, smooth and tender skin that reveals the first three buttons of his wrinkled shirt.

fuck it.

his fingers dig painfully gently into the untouchable skin of your waist as you slam into his body and your lips attack his. teeth and tongues meeting in disorder, wild gasps as your mouths devour each other to the point of dissolving the other.

his mouth feels hot. his taste addictive. your tongue savor his while your fingers mess up his hair. pull. caress; your emotions scatter and get tangled. your body hums and you find yourself out of breath as you feel him pushing you backwards until you hit the edge of the pool table.

chenle pants against your lips and your instinct is to reach out and bite them with desire under layers and layers of resentment.

“shit.” he mutters, hissing. heart pounding his chest while your hands won't stop touching him. he can do nothing but gasp desperately. he wants everything. being bitten, caressed, kissed.

he wants you. he craves you. always has. his body burns from the rawness and cruelty in which he desires you. your body stuck to his, your predatory eyes on him... his head pulls back, briefly having a lucid moment, and he pants “one last chance.”

his fingers glide down your soft thigh and your eyes close, sensitive. receptive. you feel him position himself between your legs, your thigh slightly brushing against his hips. you see him grit his teeth. one of his hands wraps around your neck gently, his thumb brushes your jaw before bringing his face closer, and you ask “for...?”

“stop pretending.”

you scoff. you delight in watching him frown in annoyance before he falls into a trance as you wrap your wet lips around his thumb. you're able to see in his eyes the urge he tries to repress. how he tries to keep pace with his breathing. how he tries not to get excited about the way your mouth sucks his finger before he chuckles under his breath.

all your boldness shakes as he locks you between his body, hands gripping your waist and assisting you to sit on the board. your arm instinctively wraps around his neck. faces very close. dangerously close. yet chenle doesn't give you a break, and you sense his next move when he tilts his head and kisses you again. unscrupulously. like a hungry man. split lips for his tongue to tease you and taste you a thousand times, breaths suffocating in the other's mouth. tongue swirling over yours before his lips hover over your mouth. chenle sucks playfully, drawing you towards him. sticking to his body. his hands rest on your lower back as he lets you take the reins of the destructive kiss in which your mouths merge.

heads turning the other way when the other does, deeper, safer, bolder kisses. an eternity or maybe a second has passed, in which your mouths meet infinitely, lips fitting into each other, moving to the same beat as the other, imprinting thousands of repressed emotions that you taste them on each other's tongue.

your body reacts to his midas touch. fingers running down your back, arching against him. belly holding everything in a ball that begins to grow and expand, feeling heavier, and harder to keep at bay. it twists you inside and melts towards your intimacy, making you want more.

he breaks the kiss and you watch his arrogant expression falter as he pulls himself together, “well?”

your breathing is ragged and your thoughts are scattered all over the room. your head pulls back, cornered, “fine! i need this, badly.”

“that's my girl,” he rushes to say, succumbing in front of you as his mouth attacks your neck.

his tongue slides down the hot vein that throbs under your sweet skin and it's taking all your will not to whine loudly. a grunt leaves his lips and hits your skin when your nails burrow into his flexed arm, moaning breathlessly. “look at that, she can moan.” your mind collapses from the silky sensation that begins to fill you and makes your fingers go towards his hips, searching for the buttons of his pants.

chenle pulls away from you and helps you take off your pants. your hands finding the bulging from the erection underneath. mouth begins to salivate as the edges of your vision blur, teeth catching your lower lip when a gasp comes out of you. tummy burning with aching desire to see it, hurriedly grabbing your hands on the waistband of his underwear and pulling it down to reveal his manhood.

emotions are too strong to think clearly. turns you into a disaster of clashing mouths and groping. your body buzzes with the intoxicate feeling chenle causes you as he grazes your body and attacks your mouth with fiery kisses. you let the primitive pleasure that lashes your being make you submissive to him when he pulls you down from the table by your thighs and forces you to turn around. his fingers tangle with the bottom of your dress as he pulls it up and exposes your body. “fuck. you know how much i love lacy things.” any hint of a response is undone when you feel his fingers touch your core due to the lack of fabric covering your intimacy.

your breaths freeze for related reasons.

his digits massage the area with delicacy and you feel like you are about to lose your mind. “so deliciously wet.” your body breaks at his diabolical touch. fingers up your folds to the swollen and needy area.

your throat builds a cry. your eyes shut tightly. chenle's fingers slide down at your entrance until they detach from you. the scream comes out of your mouth when he spanks you. “easy, pretty. you'll want to keep it quiet.” his digits attack your clit once again and you dig your teeth into the forearm that holds you against him while his fingers abuse you. eyes roll as he sticks his middle and ring finger into you and starts pumping rhythmically, the coldness of his rings nibbling on the sensitive skin of your entrance. “so soft. so good taking it, darling.” a shudder hits you from the smooth and solid of the material pressing deliciously against you while his digits fuck you.

sounds burst out of you against your will at the pace of his swirls. your walls take chenle's fingers until the squelch sound joins your moans. he pulls his fingers out of you and spanks you again before pulling your panties down.

he makes you take them off completely before he comes back with you and you can feel him press the tip of his penis into your folds, sliding up and down, covering his erection with your luscious excitation to push it inside you with ease. the full feeling leaves you breathless and you find yourself letting out a breathy giggle from the pleasurable sensation that blooms in your lower belly when he stuffs you with his cock.

chenle rocks in and out of you, getting you used to his length, and your legs tremble as he does so, feeling the shot of arousing sensation every time he thrusts you. your heart flutters as the speed changes and you find yourself gasping for breath. pelvis begins to hammer yours mercilessly. your crotch fills with dripping, numbing pleasure as your body twitches and contorts, having moved nothing. chenle dominates you. he holds you in place to receive each merciless, demonically good thrust. moving one hand to your mouth when you threaten to scream from how well he's fucking you. legs trembling as your pussy takes him again and again, you welcome him into your slippery, swollen walls, feeling sensitive. his cock penetrates you with sharp, swift thrusts and you find yourself in space, taking him deliciously. belly filling with searing fire that threatens to spill into your bloodstream.

“god, you feel so well, you feel s—so nice, angel.” chenle fails to contain his own moans, and his teeth bury into the smooth skin of your shoulder, muffling the moans in your skin as he buries his cock and your pussy begins to tingle. “a-ahgh, fuck!” your lips are caught in your canines at the growing knot in your belly as chenle hammers you ruthlessly.

your eyes squeeze closed and a white noise takes over your mind as you try to find your train of thought, but all your common sense vanishes from your hands before the delicious pumping of his cock abusing your needy pussy; heat spreading from your belly and spilling down your thighs.

it takes almost all of your strength not to succumb right there. to not let the wonderful sensation of his cock driving you to ecstasy.

“o-oh god, chenle,” you cry. your body collapses on the pool table and causes chenle to thrust you from another angle. eyes rolling to the back of your head and moaning building up and spilling from your lips from how good it feels. chenle hisses “s-shit, don't stop moaning. f-fuck, yn. you feel so fucking amazing. sound so exquisite.” his thrusts become sharper, your body jolts and the feeling leaves you dizzy and groggy, mind blank as the pleasurable sensation takes over your body.

chenle grabs you tightly by the waist as his pelvis hammers yours roughly, the sound of your skins clashing filling the room along with your moans and the squelching noise of your cunt taking him with each stroke.

the snap of your skin when his palm hits your butt pulls you over the edge. your hands turn to fists as you try to hold it inside, but the fire crackles inside you, and a pleasurable pain forms in your core. the tingling sensation spreads through your belly wildly and you must stifle a scream.

“feels good, princess? too good? want to cum on my cock, baby?” he coos, “fuck, let me feel you. i need to nut in you so bad, need to stuff you nice and pretty.” his cold hands pull you up and slam you against him, starting to stroke your hard nipples, your lips part open to release a curse that chenle waits for with expecting eyes. “fuck, i'm so close,” he announces, stopping briefly to catch his breath.

chenle suddenly chuckles behind you, “yn, don't fucking tell me you're making this a competition?” your laughter turns to an eager gasp when the switch the pace.

the constant movement has turned you into a whining mess as you try to encapsulate your newfound desire. your dress has wrinkled and the straps that hold them now lie undone, exposing your breasts that press against the pool table moving slightly from the magnitude of chenle's pounding.

your head pulls back and a hoarse moan breaks on your lips as his mouth rests on your neck and his teeth nibble on your skin as the thrusts slow down. your body feels enraptured and weak, and your muscles don't respond to your commands, totally carried away by the crushing desire.

chenle mutters something under his breath before his hands leave your breasts and you feel him cover them again with your dress. your cloudy gaze rests on the half-open slit of light coming in from the hallway, and like a spell you return to your five senses as you process what chenle has said before. your hearing comes back to you the moment you hear someone approaching the room, and something wrinkles in your stomach as you feel chenle still inside you, with no hint of pulling out his cock of you. tummy burning with aching thrill when the door opens and a figure hidden by the shadows stops right at the entrance.

your body is embalmed with terror when you recognize the figure. “sungie,” you pronounce, feeling your mouth dry. jisung slowly enters the room and your body tenses; chenle stands still behind you but one step closer and jisung would be able to see that his pants are on his calves. and your dress is wrinkled and moved up to your waist. and his dick is shoved down inside you. you swallow very hard. “still on the billiard match?” he asks with curiosity as he passes the two of you and heads to the bar.

“as you can tell,” chenle blurts out, and takes you by surprise when he moves his pelvis towards you; his penis slides easily in, then you feel him slide out. your cheeks burn at the notion that he's really fucking you while your brother is in the room, “will you take too long? we're in the middle of something.”

your eyes widen in panic at the choice of words and your belly tightens in turn because you're still aroused and because chenle keeps rocking you torturously slow and deep.

“mmm,” jisung hums and forces you to hold back the grimace of pleasure that was beginning to form on your face when he looks over his shoulder. “just came back for more cigars.”

your hand squeeze chenle's bicep as he shoves his cock, hitting the delicious swollen spot inside, rocking side to side to make sure you feel him against your walls, full length coated with your creamy arousal. your hips react impulsively and you grind against him when his hand pushes your stomach towards his dick and you feel it buried in you.

his eyes meet yours when you look over your shoulder, smiling smugly, “just like that.”

“screwing up.” fuck, he said what you think he said? you both stop abruptly when he walks towards you and stops right at the other end of the table. his eyes squint you for what seems like an eternity until his sight falls on the billiard balls. “the game's pretty much fucked up from the way i see it.” he clicks his tongue, “i'll let you to it.”

jisung barely leaves the room when you feel chenle slide out of you. your throat forms a groan when you feel the emptiness in your pussy, forced to die instantly when he spin you on your heels and his hands tug hard at your dress. “hey, this is silk, moron!”

you let him strip you of your dress and manipulate your body as he sees fit when he makes you sit on the edge of the table to slide the fabric down your knees when he responds, “i'll buy you a new one. only if you let me take it off.” the cold bites your bare skin and chenle's heavy, dark gaze devours it. your breath condenses in your throat by the primal look of the boy contemplating your body; it fills you with infinite glory to know how affected you are that your legs spread open.

his eyes fall on your crotch and something furious flutters on your belly when he licks his lips. “gonna stand there and look stupid?”

a wail of surprise escapes your lips as his cold hands open your legs wider to position themselves between them. your hands grind on his shirt, unbuttoning it with nimble fingers as you feel his mouth creeping around your neck. “you look so fucking delicious.” warm lips sit on your sensitive skin and for a moment you forget what you're doing, rolling your eyes as his teeth finally bury themselves in the smooth flesh and his cock enters you slowly.

you feel every inch he pushes inside, hands making you grind against him until he shoves it all the way in and leaves you stargazing.

your moans in unison gather in the air. “o-oh, god.” you swallow hard. face burning and tickling with raw desire damping chenle's cock when he begins to pound you.

chenle's head buries in your breasts and nibbles and sucks on your tits, tongue wrapping around your hard nipples, before taking them in his mouth one and then another, sending shivers down your spine. your insides tighten as he hums and you feel the vibrations of his vocal cords deep within you, wreaking havoc on your sanity.

you're completely out of your head. spacing. thoughts liquefy with every hard thrust he gives you. legs trembling with pleasure as your mouth spills moans one after the other. “jesus, le, o-oh~.” you lock glances with him, watching his face twitch excitedly, brows furrowed, and skin starting to sweat. “so good, princess.” his mouth attacks you fiercely in a wet kiss before his lips move to your shoulder, where he sucks and bites.

chenle makes you drown out a sound when he lunges at you and pushes you against the pool table, laying you on it while his fingers burrow into your ribs without stopping the haunting hammering of his pelvis. cock hitting over and over your sweet spot, making you smile mesmerized at how good it feels. hissing and groaning, “yes, yes.” fog clouding your senses, sharp pain numbing your limbs, dick fucking you so good. “o-oh—” you cry from pleasure, back arching and tears forming on your eyes. the crushing climax coming closer, you bite your lips, troubled.

your body arches and twists, pelvis moving in a spasm towards him, “fuck!” he pants, “fuck, i'm close, s-so close.” his eyes close savoring the thrilling moment of ecstasy that embraces him. your body goes into another spasm as the searing pleasure spills into your belly and runs wildly down into your pussy. “chenle—” a scream escapes your throat before your mind is clouded with white noise and your body is paralyzed before it starts to suffer waves of strong spasms.

chenle drinks every pronounced throb of your pussy, and delights in your clenching walls wrapping around his cock empties his seed inside before taking his length out and milk the rest on your stomach. pearls of cum dripping into your tummy as his hot nut inside you starts to slide out.

the fog begins to recede from your thoughts and now you find yourself totally sober to say “le,” in a whine, staring at your stomach, “you better clean this up before someone comes in.”

your hand gets lost in his hair as he comes down to you and his mouth begins to clean his cum from you. an excited laugh assails you when he also takes the opportunity to bite your belly.

you bite your lip when he gives your pussy a lash with his tongue. sucking and tasting your velvety arousal. you drown out a groan and a current shakes your body. chenle diligently wipes the remnants of ejaculation with his mouth, taking his time. hands spreading your legs wider as he teases you, tongue swirling against your folds and your entrance before moving to your swollen clit.

you let out a shaky groan when you suddenly remember something.

“you still have my panties, a souvenir?” you taunt.

chenle pulls back far enough for you to look into his eyes, mouth pulling away from your pussy when a smile forms on his lips. your body shakes in anticipation just as he pronounces, “a trophy.” he comes over and kisses you, the taste of his cum mixing on your tongue before you break the kiss and look out the door.

“d'you hear that?” you utter.

“the wind?” he says, making a pretense of kissing you again but you stop him.

“someone was there,” you pronounce, blood rushing up your neck just as a knot grips your stomach. “jisung! oh, my god, jisung was standing there!” you squeal, panicking.

chenle removes your nails off his skin and rolls his eyes “okay, and? hope he enjoyed the show, that fucking heathen.”

you shake your head, starting to freak out. “oh, my god! no! it can't be, right?... he c-can't-” you breathe before your eyes glaze at chenle, because the more you come out of lethargy and hysteria takes hold of you the clearer your mind becomes, and the sharper the figure in the hallway. “that foul harpy.” chenle sighs and holds a hand to his septum in anticipation.

“jini,” he states as if it were some kind of poison.

“you have to do something about it.”

chenle snorts, in disbelief. “like, what? killed her?”

“seduce her or something!”

he bursts out laughing. “yn, are you serious right now? remind me why would i do that?”

“because, because! she's blinded by greed. she'll tell everyone, and no one can know, jisung can't know. he'll ruin me.” you mutter.

“because you're daddy's girl?” he sneers maliciously. his eyes squint at you when he sees you so tormented.

you see him debating behind his wild eyes whether to help you or not and panic lures in you. shit. you're willing to cry if it means convincing him, and he can notice it, because he clicks his tongue in delight. “yn, yn, yn,” he says like a mantra, “fine, fine.” he gives in, watching you whipping away the fake tears.

“let daddy take care of it.”

there was no way to describe the relationship you had with zhong chenle. it could be this symbiosis where both parties could get what they wanted. putting your reputation in his vain hands not only made you feel stupid but at the same time relieved. despite being a manipulative liar, he had ambition. you don't think you can remember a time when he didn't get away with something he truly wanted. there was no better prospect than to leave your faith in the hands of his machiavellian wit.

so you return to the party, trying to look composed. but chenle is still haunting your head and not allowing you to concentrate. your parents introduce you to some important figures and you are forced to put up the best façade because jisung is nowhere to be seen to help you.

thinking about jisung doesn't help either.

chenle: meet me at the pier.

the cold nibbles your skin as you make your way to the old zhong pier. you used to come when you were younger in the summer to lie with ningning and jini on the shore to sunbathe before getting splashed by your brother and chenle. vacations on the lake were full of refreshing days where you either took a swim or lay on a boat where you fell asleep from the swaying.

the lake is frozen by a thin layer of ice, and the closer you get, the more you can hear the laughter and pleasant chatter that others have a little further away from you.

there's a cut-out silhouette at the edge of the pier, waiting for you.

“le.”

jini turns around and smiles at you sharply. “just the copycat.”

you smile patiently.

“dear jini, tell me what you plan to do? murder me?” you mention, stepping closer. “are you going to push me into the lake? literally stab me? i'm hard to kill, and i wonder, how long will it take before someone comes?”

“do you really think someone will come?” she utters furrowing her eyebrows, “your brother? who lives under your shadow? hyunjin or yeji, after telling them that you were against the agreement with their parents? ningning, who hates you as much as i do? haechan, or perhaps chenle?” her eyes sparkle when she mentions his name, and the implicit of it gives you chills when you start to doubt whether it was he or she who sent the message.

“you want everything i want,” you provoke.

“gosh, you're so self-centered, aren't you? taking space, and taking the things that were for others. you don't realize this is your end, and no one will come to your rescue. chenle won't come to your rescue,” she corrects.

“oh, no need,” you say simply. “i've always loved to be a martyr, it's poetic.”

“you're quite a psychopath.” she laughs, and it's only at that moment that you notice how much she's been getting closer to you as you talked. “i... like to be ambitious.”

a scream freezes in your throat as she pushes you toward the lake.

── 8:02hr 🃏 after ──

#nct dream smut #chenle smut #zhong chenle smut #chenle x reader

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