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perlelune · 5 months

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NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body.

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you.

Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow.

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his.

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares.

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it.

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes.

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals.

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room.

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips.

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste.

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox.

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up.

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again.

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips.

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies.

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true.

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly.

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling.

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job.

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval.

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that.

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire.

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other.

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features.

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading.

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day.

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face.

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it.

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it.

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze.

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before.

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked.

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door.

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs. The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back.

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind.

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain.

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery.

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked.

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately.

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud.

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement.

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours.

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown.

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you.

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways.

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds.

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…”

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves.

“P-President…”

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest.

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt.

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open.

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle.

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs.

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong.

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him.

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears.

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

#dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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khthonkiss · 2 months

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i hate how people are so scared of mischaracterization that they take characters and completely twist them into another form of mischaracterization

yes will solace is a traumatized person he gets hurt he gets scared he isn’t someone who exists to emotionally sedate nico at any given moment, but since what does that mean suddenly he’s incapable of being caring at all??? the pjo fandom doesn’t like to view trauma as individual manifestations but instead the word trauma makes people think oh this person must automatically be closed off and angry and hyper dependent and i hate it so much because you can’t write will solace without making him still caring to his core even if he isn’t able to care for someone he wants to, he wants to help everyone around him because he sees what happens when he doesn’t

and same with nico, he can’t stay closed off and hyper independent forever. he lost his caretaker in an instant when he was 10 years old and was forced in a state of hyper independence because he was homeless and alone and when someone takes him and forcibly cares for him he will become physically and emotionally reliant on them whether he wants it or not, even if this doesn’t mean he’s incapable of caring for other people

solangelo is hyper codependent, will solace needs to take care of other people as much as he needs to be taken care of because it’s the only way to soothe his anxiety and control issues is to know he himself can confirm nothing is wrong, and same goes for nico to care for others to ensure no one he loves can be lost and because of this they take care of each other endlessly

their whole relationship is about balance. write it balanced

#solangelo 🌅🌌#will solace #nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #own post

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luxekook · 1 year

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call him bestie in bed | minwon

❯ pairing: mingyu x reader x wonwoo

❯ genre: best friends to lovers, slight angst, smut, fluff

❯ summary: you realize you’re in love with your best friends. chaos ensues.

❯ word count: 8.2k

❯ warnings: 18+, cursing, reader thirsts over minwon (and who can blame them?), some miscommunication and self-sabotaging behaviors (reader is an idiot for a hot sec), light drinking, brief mention of heavy drinking (one reference to a past event), dirty talk, jealousy, teasing, everyone is a switch but mingyu’s a total baby boy and reader calls wonu daddy, mingyu likes degradation and denial uwu, wonwoo just wants to please uwuwuwuwu, reader has breasts and a vagina and uses she/her pronouns, wonwoo calls reader pretty girl, gyu calls reader baby, smut [heavy makeouts, oral (giving and receiving), fingering, masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it plz folx), creampies on creampies hehe]

❯ an: this fic is based on the meme "call him bestie during s*x" and on the beautiful gifset by @jaemtens.

It hits you smack in the face at 10:42 PM in the middle of Seungkwan’s crowded kitchen. Unable to look away, you stare at your two best friends as they pose for ‘candids’ courtesy of DK. Mingyu and Wonwoo lounge against the liquor-filled countertop, murmuring to each other in between flashes of smiles.

It’s then that the pesky little thought you’ve somehow suppressed for weeks finally surfaces, detonating all over your life.

You are in love with your best friends.

You’re in love with Mingyu. His generous heart, his pouty sweetness, his natural caretaker persona.

You’re in love with Wonwoo. His quiet strength, his unmatched wit, his ride-or-die attitude.

And the two of them together? The yin-and-yang combination results in such an overwhelming pull that you just can’t ignore any longer. It’s their inner beauty you really fell for first. But the outer beauty? Wow.

You’re vaguely aware that Dino is talking to you about some sort of new TikTok dance he wants to cover, and you nod along with the proper non-committal hums in response. But when Mingyu grabs Wonwoo’s necklace and tugs him closer, your body short circuits. “I need some air,” you gasp out to Dino, pushing past partygoers to escape to the small balcony attached to the apartment.

It’s empty. No one else seems to be willing to risk the frigid winter chill except for you. You hug yourself tightly as you stare out at the city lights twinkling around you. Heaving a sigh, you watch as the fog from your breath dissipates in the breeze.

Honestly, what are you going to do? How the fuck are you supposed to act now? What will they think of you?

Your mind plummets down dark paths filled with rejection and dismay. How could this possibly end well? The beginning of tears sting in your eyes, and everything feels off-kilter.

Maybe you should just go.

“(Y/n)?”

Your eyes shut, shoulders slumping low. It seems you missed the sound of the balcony door under the roar of your restless mind.

“(Y/n),” Wonwoo repeats with a sigh. “What are you doing out here? You’re going to freeze to death. I made Mingyu go grab your coat.”

You give a half-hearted shrug in response, feeling Wonwoo’s sharp inquisitive stare on the side of your face. You can tell he wants to say more, but he’s interrupted by the balcony door opening and closing with a loud thud behind you.

The weight of your jacket immediately envelops your shoulders. “Are you crazy, (y/n)?” Mingyu practically shoves your arms through your coat sleeves for you before tossing Wonwoo his own jacket. “I swear you’re shaving years off our lives! It’s almost December! It snowed yesterday!

“Well yeah, but that was yesterday,” you reply. And apparently that was the wrong response given the fact that both boys are eerily silent until–

“Okay, what’s wrong? Because I know everything was fine before we got here, wasn’t it?” Wonwoo gently takes your chin in his hand and turns you to face him and Mingyu.

They must see the tears glistening in your eyes because Wonwoo curses under his breath. Mingyu’s nostrils flare. “(Y/n),” Mingyu says softly, your name falling like a vow off his lips. “Who do we have to deal with? Was Dino saying something to you? Because that little shit will pay–!”

“No!” You cut him off before he does anything drastic, because Mingyu absolutely will. “I just needed some air. That’s all. The cold makes my eyes water.”

Your friends exchange a long look that you know screams of disbelief, but you are well past caring. You need to blow this popsicle stand. Now. “I’m out of here,” you plaster a hopefully believable smile on your face, “I’ll see you around?”

Without waiting for any sort of response, you push back inside. The sudden noise briefly jolts you, but the heat is a welcome relief. Finding Seungkwan in the living room, you thank him for the invite and assure him you’ll get home safely. It’s then that you feel their presence again at your back.

“I’m sure you will,” Seungkwan grins at you before looking up at the two boys you’re now certain are right behind you.

You roll your eyes at his antics. “Bye, Boo,” you say, hugging him and kissing his cheek. Seungkwan sends you off with a wave.

Making your way out the door, you stop in the narrow hallway and turn to your friends. “You don’t have to follow me, you know. I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.” It’s a difficult feat to meet their hard stares, but you manage it.

“When have we ever let you leave somewhere by yourself, (y/n)?” Wonwoo’s voice is deceptively calm for how annoyed he seems to be by your statement. Too bad you’re too frazzled to pay it half a mind.

“Doesn’t seem fair of me to interrupt your night,” you reply, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t want to be a cockblock.”

“A what!” Mingyu chokes on air, fuming. “The only thing that’s blocking our—!”

Wonwoo cuts Mingyu off with a look that clearly screams shut-the-fuck-up-you-idiot before turning back to you. “(Y/n), where is this coming from? We’re your best friends. You can talk to us.”

It’s that statement that makes you deflate. The air quite literally leaves your body in a wheeze of a sigh. “It’s nothing, Wonwoo. I’m just tired.”

You turn before either boy can respond and start walking down the hallway towards the elevators. After punching the down arrow many more times than necessary, you pull your phone out of your pocket and tap the rideshare app.

“Absolutely not,” Mingyu grabs your phone right out of your hands.

“Kim Mingyu,” you growl, lunging for your stolen device, “Give that back!”

Chuckling, that tall fucking skyscraper only holds it up higher. “No, we drove you here; so we’ll drive you back.”

You stare up at him and his beaming smile, his bright eyes, his beautiful energy. It’s too much. Way too much. You slide your gaze from Mingyu to Wonwoo, who has the smallest smile on his face as he looks at you both. He’s always been just as deadly.

It’s the elevator that saves you. The ding is like a bolt of lightning to your resolve, and you launch forward into the awaiting lift. You’ll let them drive you home and then inhale your emergency pint of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. You got this.

Turns out you do not got this. The vibe in Mingyu’s black SUV is not it. Everything with the three of you is usually comfortable, easy. Tonight, you know your quietness is making waves. But what are you supposed to do? Blurt out your bombshell of a realization? Potentially ruin your friendships because you’re scared of a little silence? No way in hell.

You need to process this for at least a few days and plan your actions for another. You had to be smart about this. Wonwoo and Mingyu are too precious, too vital to your life to be risked by any means. It honestly should not have come as a surprise to you that you love them. But maybe denial had been easier until now. Because now you feel as if you want them to love you back more than you want air in your lungs.

Ah, the drama.

Finally, the car pulls up in front of your building. “Thanks for the ride, Gyu,” you turn to him, shooting him the best smile you can muster up.

“Anytime, (y/n). I mean it,” Mingyu’s voice rumbles out of him. His gaze hooks on your smile for a half second too long. You blink and turn to the backseat where Wonwoo’s stretched out in the middle seat. His long legs open wide, practically an invitation– Nope. Not going there. Not today, Satan.

“Bye, Woo,” you smile at him and turn to get out of the car.

“Hey!” Mingyu’s voice trails after you as you hop out of the tall SUV, “No goodbye kiss for me and Wonwoo?”

“Or are those exclusively for Seungkwan?” Wonwoo’s door opens as he gets out to take your spot in the passenger seat. His deep voice is teasing, but his eyes… His eyes demand an answer.

“Well,” you pause, knowing that you’re about to give the most idiotic rationale, “Host a party and maybe I’ll consider it.” With that, you give them the most embarrassing finger wave of your entire life and hightail it out of sight into your building.

Later, your phone chimes with a message. It’s to the main group chat with all of your friends.

It’s from Mingyu.

“Thanks for the party, Seungkwan. Wonu and I got next. See you all Thursday night at ours. ;)”

Fuck.

“Wait, I don’t understand,” your sister squints at you through your phone as you FaceTime, “You’re really going to sit there and tell me that you just realized you like them? As more than just friends? Bitch, our whole family thinks you’re in a poly relationship and supports it. Even great grandma Ethel is jealous of your men.”

The sip of coffee you just took comes flying out of your mouth. “What!” You splutter, coughing. “Please tell me you’re kidding about Granny Ethel.” This is not at all what you expected to hear when calling your older sister for advice after last night’s fiasco.

“Fine, I’m kidding about her, but our entire family does think you’re in a relationship.” She shrugs at you like this isn’t news. “I mean, you know that is how they act with you, right? They act like boyfriends.”

“How?” You rack your brain to try to come up with any fitting example, but you can’t seem to think of a single thing. “They just seem to act like good friends to me.”

“(Y/n)…” Your sister sighs, “I love you, but you are so oblivious. Remember last summer? When Wonwoo and Mingyu came to my graduation party, and we both got a little too drunk off of Mom’s wine stash?”

You laugh, remembering how the boys found you and your sister in the backyard chasing each other with your little cousins’ water guns. “Yeah, I tripped over the sprinkler and hit myself in the face with a Super Soaker.”

Your sister cackles, “Such a priceless memory! But I meant what happened after that.”

“You mean when I got my ass handed to me by two overprotective boys?” You shake your head at the recollection of being carried into the house by Mingyu as Wonwoo ranted your ear off about being more careful.

“More like when you got cuddled and bandaged up by your two beefy boyfriends who then wanted to go set fire to a sprinkler for daring to hurt you,” your sister laughs as your face twists at her words.

“That sprinkler did go missing after your party…” you muse, finally giving in and laughing along with her. Your best friends are menaces, and you love them for it. You love them, period. And if that isn’t the crux of it.

“So, what do I do?” You plead with your sister, “If they do love me like you say they do, how can I know for sure?”

“Just ask them.” She takes one look at your horrified face and scoffs, “Oh please, what happened to (y/n) ‘I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me’ (y/l/n)?”

“Never heard of them,” you lie.

Your sister mutters what are surely insults under her breath before shrugging. “Fine, you could just test it out instead. See the response to some different scenarios.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You barely get the question out before your eyes widen in terror at the maniacal smile that splits across your sister’s face.

“Here’s what you’re going to do…”

After spending the next week dodging calls from Wonwoo and Mingyu, sending the barest of texts and contemplating your very existence, you find yourself standing outside of the boys’ apartment.

You’re late. The music already pounds through the walls, the door practically shaking with each thump of bass. You’re pretty sure no one realizes you’re even coming. But that’s what the plan essentially is… at least that’s part of it.

The other part is this outfit. You’re honestly on some real hot girl shit in your tight leather pants, slightly sheer black crop top, and black strappy bra.

Yup, the plan is all about attention. You’re not usually one to demand it, but here you are.

Turning the knob of the door, you strut inside. Your friends are scattered throughout the apartment you know like the back of your hand. The music covers up the sound of the door slamming shut, but not entirely.

“(Y/n)!” Jun yells, practically bowling you over with a hug, “You’re here!”

“Hi, Jun,” you grin up at your affectionate friend, “How’s the party so far?”

“Honestly, the vibes were a bit weird before you got here,” Hoshi butts in from behind Jun. The blond haired boy holds out a beer for you, which you accept with a smile.

“I think Mingyu was sulking?” Jun giggles, “More pity party than party-party if you ask me.”

“I haven’t even seen Wonwoo tonight,” Hoshi adds, cutting Jun off. “Why throw a party if you’re not even going to attend?”

You hum, not really sure how to respond. Your skin prickles under the weight of so many stares. You shrug it off as best you can, pushing further into the apartment and greeting friends along the way.

You don’t see them until it’s too late.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Vernon when your eyes meet his. Wonwoo is sprawled next to Mingyu on their couch. You’re going to kill Hoshi for misinformation when you see him next because you really needed a warning. The way Wonwoo’s arms look in his blue cut-off shirt should be illegal.

Wonwoo finally looks away from you, glancing over at Mingyu. Your eyes follow, and your legs threaten to buckle as you realize Mingyu is already looking back at you. He looks at you like he wants to devour you whole. God, the way his teeth sink into his lower lip makes your mind fill with the dirtiest thoughts.

His dark eyes slowly flick over your body before meeting yours again. You want to run. You want to jump on him. There is no in between in this case.

“You’ve got it bad.” Vernon’s voice coaxes you back to reality. He continues, “If it makes any difference, I think they’ve got it worse.”

And then he just walks away. Like he didn’t just drop that bomb.

Classic Vernon. You can’t help but laugh.

An hour later, you’re playing pong in the boys’ tiny dining room with Joshua against Jeonghan and Cheol. You’ve successfully avoided Mingyu and Wonwoo so far tonight. And with the sort of looks that they gave you earlier, you need all the breathing room you can get. Because is your loved-up mind conjuring up reciprocation? Or are they actually feeling some type of way? It’s honestly driving you insane. So insane you almost miss Mr. Yoon Jeonghan cheating for the fifth straight turn.

“Jeonghan, if I see that elbow cross the table one more time I’m going to tackle you,” you cry, shaking your head at the boy’s inability to deviate from his devious tendencies.

Jeonghan just smirks and makes an elaborate show of pushing his elbow way past the edge of the table. “Oops,” he says, his smirk widening, “Please don’t follow through, (y/n).”

“You little—!” you start towards Jeonghan, rounding the table and marching towards him with purpose.

“(Y/n),” Joshua calls nervously.

“Not now, Josh.” Your eyes narrowing on your prey, “I’m defending our honor.”

“But—!” Josh never finishes his warning before you’re tugged out of the dining room and thrown over someone’s shoulder. A shoulder that smells suspiciously like Mingyu.

“What the fuck?” You yelp, wiggling around, “Put me down!”

Thwack! Your ass stings before you realize what had even happened.

“Did you really just spank me?” All the blood is rushing to your brain, and it’s making it hard to wrap your mind around this utter bullshit.

The world spins around you for a second as you’re tossed on a bed. Wonwoo’s bed. With Wonwoo standing over you next to a pouty looking Mingyu.

“Hi,” you blink up at them. Like an idiot.

“Hi,” Wonwoo drawls back to you. Mingyu says nothing, but the look on his face speaks volumes. Clearly, you are in trouble here.

You push up into a sitting position. “You could have just asked to talk to me instead of kidnapping me from your own party, guys.”

“Oh yeah?” Mingyu scoffs, “Could have fooled us. You didn’t even say hi when you walked in. Not to mention you’ve been ignoring us all fucking week! You’ve been weird ever since Seungkwan’s party, and we’re over it.”

“You’re going to tell us what’s up with you, (y/n).” Wonwoo’s no-nonsense tone sends a shiver down your spine. He reaches out to grab a lock of your hair, playing with the strands. “Start talking, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl?

You’re done. “I don’t have to tell you anything,” you blurt, completely flustered over Wonwoo. You stand, getting him to drop your hair but now placing yourself entirely too close to both of your friends. “I’m going back out there. Joshua needs me.”

“Oh,” Mingyu laughs darkly, “Joshua needs you? I thought you wanted Jeonghan.”

You stare up at him, eyebrows raised. Is that… jealousy? A hint of hope dawns. Your inner bad bitch finally steps in. “And what if I did?”

For a moment, no one speaks. The room practically crackles with tension. Your chest is tight, hands shoved into your back pockets to keep from reaching up to sooth it.

“If you did,” Wonwoo murmurs, sharing a dark look with Mingyu, “We’d have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, you’d have to deal with it,” you nod emphatically. “Why are you saying it like you’d take him out or something?”

They both just shrug. You decide you hate being on the opposite end of the silent treatment for once. Karma really is a bitch.

“You know what? Maybe I will just go out there and jump Jeonghan since you both clearly think that’s what I want. Maybe I’ll even go for Josh, too! Might as well at this rate! No one else is volunteering!” You move to stalk past them when it happens.

Mingyu slides in front of you, blocking any means of escape. Wonwoo comes up behind you. His body leans into yours, halting any more movement.

“She’s not getting it.” Wonwoo mutters. You feel his hands resting on your hips, burning into your skin where his fingers rest under your shirt.

“She’s really not,” Mingyu agrees, staring down at you with furrowed brows and a glower of epic proportions. His hair is in disarray but frames his face so well you really might pass out.

“She is standing right here,” you protest. Your body is firing on all synapses and when Mingyu presses closer to you, his fingers hooking into your belt loops, you have to bite back a moan.

“So she is,” Wonwoo says, lips brushing your ear.

Mingyu flashes you a smile that’s more teeth than anything else. “Finally.”

“If one of you doesn’t start explaining yourself, I'm going to start screaming,” you warn. Except your so-called warning comes out weak, easily being dismissed by the two boys currently sandwiching you in between their bodies. The only reactions are a burst of heat in Mingyu’s dark eyes and a slight squeeze from Wonwoo’s fingers.

You clear your throat, desperation clawing at your insides. What is even happening? How dare they toy with you like this! Wedging you between them like you’re nothing and then ignoring you altogether!

You lose it. “Let me go!“ Your arms push Mingyu’s hard chest to no avail. You push harder, frantic. It’s too much to be so close to them. To feel them like this knowing what your true feelings are.

“Don’t ask us to do that,” Wonwoo murmurs, grabbing your hands and tugging them gently into his at your sides.

“Because you’re never getting rid of us, baby.” Mingyu’s words are a fierce declaration, but the thing he does next is even fiercer still.

He kisses you.

His hands frame each side of your face, gently stroking his thumbs over your cheeks. His plush lips are firm on yours, demanding in their capture.

The sudden feeling of Wonwoo’s tongue dragging up your neck causes you to gasp, and Mingyu doesn’t hesitate. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, rolling across yours.

“Fu-uck,” Mingyu moans against your lips, “She tastes so good, doesn’t she, hyung?”

“Better than we imagined,” Wonwoo smiles against the thin skin under your ear before he nibbles at it and then sucks.

The whimper that bubbles up from your chest would have been embarrassing if you cared about appearances. You’re well past that now.

“You two were discussing how I taste?” How is one supposed to feel about that information?

Wait.

“Without me?” Okay, so you’re a tad bitter. Sue you. FOMO is a curse.

“You can participate now if you want,” Wonwoo laughs, chest shaking against your back.

“Cool,” you shrug, feigning lots of confidence you don’t really have right now. Honestly, fake it ‘til you make it. “I taste fruity with a hint of musk.”

The air stills.

“You—”

“She—”

You grin. Finally. The upper hand has never felt so good.

Suddenly, you’re swung around. Wonwoo’s hand rests lightly on your neck as his mouth descends on yours.

This time you don’t hesitate. Your mouth opens, tongue meeting his. Your hands clutch at his shirt, dragging him closer.

“What? No fair! Baby, I want a redo,” Mingyu whines, his hands gripping your hips before grinding against your ass. He’s hard and so fucking big that you really might be losing braincells from how badly you want him. Or maybe that's just from the restricted airflow courtesy of Jeon Wonwoo. Honestly, it’s a toss-up.

“You weren’t talking about how your mouth tastes, were you, pretty girl?” Wonwoo asks, panting slightly. His lips brush yours with each word.

“Nope,” you laugh, wiggling your ass back into Mingyu.

Both boys groan.

“Fucking evil,” Mingyu sighs dreamily before kissing up the side of your neck, sucking over the same spot Wonwoo had minutes prior.

“Why does it make so much sense that you’re into it?” Your laugh turns into a moan as Mingyu bites down on your earlobe and tugs. “Hey, watch those fangs.”

“Knew you’d be bratty,” Wonwoo chuckles, his hands sliding up your shirt ever so slowly. His fingers tease the bottom of your bra, caressing your tits through the barely there material. “Surprised it took this long.”

“Well,” you say with as much snark as you can muster despite the fact that you’re full-on panting now. “Who can blame me? It’s not everyday my friends corner me, kiss me, and admit to previously conversing about eating me out.”

The boys seem way too pleased about the state they have you in. Wonwoo’s grin widens with your words, and you can feel the smugness emanating from Mingyu as his hands slide into the back pockets of your pants.

You jolt as Mingyu squeezes your ass, and it’s his muffled laugh into your hair that makes you say it.

“Well, it's not everyday, but last week Minghao said he’ll marry me if we’re both single by thirty. So, I’m counting that.”

“How is that even remotely similar?” Wonwoo’s eyes narrow when you open your mouth to retort. “No, don’t answer that. It’ll just make me mad, pretty girl.”

“Hao should know you’re off limits,” Mingyu fumes, “Sounds like we need to have another talk with him, hyung.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo shrugs. “We know that (y/n)’s marrying one of us, and that’s it.”

“Again, an invite to this conversation would have been nice!” You cry, pouting in a very Mingyu-like fashion.

“Why?” Mingyu laughs into your hair again, and you’re this close to losing your shit on him. “So you can go freak out for a week like you just did?”

Okay, fair but rude.

“Fuck you, Gyu.” You shimmy out of their holds with a speed you didn’t know you had in you. You don’t make it two steps towards the door before they’re both there, leaning casually against your only means of escape. And damn them because why do they have to look so fine with their tousled hair and swollen lips? The hungry looks in their eyes don’t help either.

You’re really in denial that you’re fucked here.

“Fuck me?” Mingyu smirks, “Go right ahead, baby.”

You march up to him and grab a fistful of his shirt, “You can’t say shit to me like that, Kim Mingyu. Not when you’ve just been tag-teaming me with Wonwoo and then talking about marriage? What the fuck am I supposed to think? That you want me for sex? Or that you want me for more? Because I may have just realized I love you last week, but I know what I want. And it’s not just sex.”

“You love us?” Mingyu has hearts in his eyes, grinning hugely down at you.

“That’s all you got from that?” You huff, turning to Wonwoo to get more of an answer only to find him looking at you with a devastatingly soft expression.

“You love us,” Wonwoo breathes out, his shoulders slumping slightly. The stress you never noticed before seems to evaporate.

“I do,” you smile at him. Soft Wonwoo might kill you, but you’d literally thank him for it. “Now, are you going to say it back? Or should I go grab Minghao––”

“Over my dead body,” Wonwoo growls. “You’re ours, pretty girl. I love you, too. Always have.”

You’re melting. Your eyes pan to Mingyu. “Gyu?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes, pouting. “How can you even ask me that? Of course I love you! Do you think I drive just anyone around no matter what? Do you think I cook all your favorite foods on the regular just for fun? Do you think I haven’t fucked anyone since we met because I’m interested in lifelong celibacy? Baby, come on. I’m yours.”

You jump on him. To his credit, Mingyu doesn't even hesitate. His hands cup your ass as soon as you finish wrapping your legs around his waist. Your lips take his, sucking his lower lip into your mouth and biting down.

“Oh shit,” Mingyu moans into your mouth, “Fuck me up, baby.”

You barely register that Wonwoo has pushed you both further into the room and is currently kicking everyone else out. Screams of encouragement from your friends as they leave are lost on you and Mingyu as you continue to devour each other.

You slide your tongue into his mouth, teasing his with a swipe and making him chase you. You suck his tongue as he enters your mouth.

“I hate you,” Mingyu groans once you let him have his tongue back. He spanks your ass for the second time that night, “Who the fuck taught you how to kiss like this?”

“Archive of Our Own,” you grin.

“Fucking nerd,” Wonwoo reenters the room just in time to roast you. Peak Wonwoo behavior.

“But you love this fucking nerd,” you shrug as best you can when you’re being manhandled by a 6’2 golden retriever type.

The smile you get in return could heat all the buildings in your city this winter. “Bed,” Wonwoo orders.

“What?” The word is barely out of your mouth before Mingyu unceremoniously dumps you onto Wonwoo’s bed and you're staring up at them yet again.

“Now,” Wonwoo says, “Tell us what you want from us tonight, pretty girl. Because me and Gyu will give you anything you ask for. Nothing more and nothing less. You’re setting the pace here. You want to cuddle? Fine. You want to make out some more? Great. You want to get fucked by Mingyu while I cum on your pretty tits? Exceptional. You want to slide up and down my cock while we make Mingyu watch without touching himself? Cool.”

Mingyu’s lips purse at the last suggestion, piquing your interest.

“Last one,” you grin at Wonwoo. “But I wanna ride you in reverse, Woo. I wanna face Mingyu as he sits in your chair and does nothing while I fuck myself on your cock, tease my clit and squeeze my tits.”

“Bet,” Wonwoo flashes you a grin and whips his shirt off. “Let’s go, pretty girl.”

“This is so unfair,” Mingyu whines, trying and failing to act like he’s not rock hard right now.

You both ignore him. Your shirt flies over your head before your hands fall to the fly of your pants.

“Oh no, I’ll be doing that, (y/n),” Wonwoo purrs, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “Lift up.”

Wonwoo slowly slides your pants down your legs, inch by agonizing inch. Vaguely, you sense Mingyu cursing under his breath as he drags Wonwoo’s chair into position and falls into it in a huff.

“Mmm,” Wonwoo hums, staring at you with pure hunger as your pants fall to the ground. Your body is covered by nothing but your bra and panties.

“Down in front,” Mingyu complains.

“Wait your turn,” you snap back, raising up to your elbows to stare at the boy across the room. Mingyu’s stripped down to his tight black boxer briefs, his cock straining the tight fabric.

His surly expression brightens immediately at your words. “I get a turn?”

Wonwoo lightly slaps your clothed pussy, “Don’t get his hopes up like that, pretty girl. Ruins half the fun.”

You shiver at his touch, “It just makes denying him later even more fun, daddy.”

“Too true, pretty girl,” Wonwoo’s grin turns feral. “Now call me daddy again.”

Mingyu’s ranting about your combined evilness, but you and Wonwoo are too focused on each other to pay him half a mind.

“Yes, daddy,” you drawl. The words barely escape you before your panties are ripped off your body and Wonwoo’s mouth is between your legs. His tongue is hot on your pussy, lapping at your wetness.

“F-fuck,” you moan, your hand entwining in his hair and gripping it as he finds your clit and sucks. His tongue circles the swollen nub. Your other hand winds its way up your body to your tits. You pinch and tease your nipple beneath your bra, wishing Wonwoo had ripped that garment off, too.

All thoughts leave your body as Wonwoo starts fucking you with his tongue, small groans escaping him with each taste of you. Your hips grind down on his face, needing more and more. “Greedy girl,” Wonwoo smiles against your pussy, “You lied earlier.”

“What do you mean?” You gasp out as Wonwoo’s finger replaces his tongue, easing into you.

“You should have told us you tasted like creamsicles,” Wonwoo removes his finger from inside you. “Should we let Mingyu try?”

“Yes!” Mingyu appears immediately, sucking Wonwoo’s finger into his mouth. The sight is so hot that you shrug off Wonwoo’s silent askance on disciplining the boy. Mingyu moans around Wonwoo’s finger, his tongue swirling around the long digit.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Wonwoo wrestles his hand back. “Now go sit back down with her taste in your mouth and watch me fuck her.”

“Fuck my life,” Mingyu groans but listens just like a good boy.

You sit up on shaky legs, reaching around to unhook your bra. “Let me,” Wonwoo murmurs as he stands. His hands brush across your shoulders, his mouth following their path with hot kisses. Your bra falls to the bed, and you fling it out of the way.

“Lay down, Jeon,” you shift over, pointing at the spot you just vacated. “My turn.”

“As you wish,” Wonwoo slides his pants down his legs, kicking them off. His cock bobs up, slapping against his abs.

Your response dies on your tongue at the sight. His cock is just so pretty – so long with a hint of curve that you just know is going to fill you up so fucking good.

“Damn, hyung,” Mingyu’s groan sounds from somewhere in the room, “She’s drooling for you.”

Wonwoo chuckles as he slides next to you on his bed. “That true, pretty girl? You want my cock in your mouth? Well, go ahead–!”

Your mouth is on him before he can finish his thought. You suck the head of his cock into your mouth with a moan, flicking your tongue at the bead of precum weeping from him. It’s Wonwoo’s turn to thread his hand in your hair.

“Mmm, yes, just like that,” he rasps, guiding you up and down his cock. You squirm at the encouragement, sucking him down further.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so damn wet,” Mingyu says, the words sounding strangled. “Please let me eat you out while you suck Wonwoo.”

You release Wonwoo with a pop. Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you look back at Mingyu. The boy looks wrecked. The tent in his underwear has a massive wet spot from his weeping cock. His temples bead with sweat, his hair a mess. His eyes are dark, desperate and pleading. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, like he’s seconds away from lunging for you.

“Please.” The word falls barely above a whisper.

“One lick,” you nod, a truly generous queen.

He’s on you before you can blink. Mingyu’s hands lift up your hips, his nose burying itself in you first. “Fuck me,” he breathes you in. You clench around nothing but the air he breathes out. The touch of his tongue on your asshole really shouldn't come as a surprise, and yet here you are, cursing into Wonwoo’s toned thighs.

Mingyu licks you at a glacial pace from ass to clit. It would be a good debate on which of the two of you is greedier. Clearly, Wonwoo is the patient one of the bunch. You reward Wonwoo by bringing a hand to his dick, jerking him off slowly.

“Mingyu,” you laugh, feeling his tongue stall on your clit for at least thirty seconds and counting.

“I th-till lickin’!” is the absolutely insane response you receive in true Mingyu fashion. “It th-till coun-ths!”

“Okay,” Wonwoo’s patience finally seems to run out, “That’s enough. Back to your chair, Kim.”

“Fine,” Mingyu sulks the whole way back. You stare openly at the expanse of bare back presented to you and decide then and there that you’re going to mark up that real estate so good.

The sound of a throat clearing brings you back to earth. “Are you gonna ride me, pretty girl? Or let Mingyu get away with something else, too?”

You scowl, hooking a leg over Wonwoo’s lap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you sink down on his cock. “Happy, daddy?” You pant, feeling yourself stretched out so good on his dick.

“You have no idea, pretty girl,” Wonwoo’s eyes squeeze shut as he flexes, fucking his cock up into you.

You both moan. Your head falls back as Wonwoo’s hands grip your hips and ass, fucking you at a demanding pace.

“Harder,” you order, bringing a hand to your clit, circling it in time to his thrusts.

“Brat,” Wonwoo says with a spank that has you clenching down on him and has him chuckling. “Knew you liked it when Gyu spanked you.”

Mingyu, ever the opportunist, takes the mention of his name as a go-ahead to start talking. “Knew you liked it, baby. You squirmed all over me. Look at you now, falling apart on Wonu’s cock. You like how he fucks you, (y/n)?”

You glare at the boy across the room. Mingyu looks even more fucked out than you, so you have no idea where he’s getting the audacity to come at you like this. His arms are behind his back, causing his biceps to flex outrageously. His head is tilted back, showing his neck as he watches you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Careful, Mingyu,” you warn, leaning back to place a hand on Wonwoo’s chest. You start fucking yourself down onto Wonwoo’s cock, meeting each of his thrusts. Your eyes never leave Mingyu’s. You grin at the rapid steam of curses the other boy emits. “You were awfully confident for a boy seeing none of the action. What happened?”

“So mean,” Mingyu whines, his cock twitching in his briefs at your words. He brings a hand to rub it.

“Don’t,” you order, nails digging into Wonwoo’s skin as his thrusts quicken. Mingyu whines but listens.

Wonwoo hits that sweet spot inside you and you whimper, “Yes, Woo, right there, please, daddy.”

“Like that, pretty girl?” Wonwoo’s raspy voice sends an added shiver down your spine as he hits that spot again and again. You feel the warmth of your impending orgasm sweep up your body.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry, swiveling your hips. “Want your cum, daddy!”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls, his hips stuttering for a quick second under you. “You want my cum, (y/n)? I told you I’d give you anything. You want me to stuff you full, pretty girl?”

Every stroke of his cock brings you closer, his words edging you closer still. “Yes, daddy, please! Fill me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me!”

“Goddamn,” Mingyu groans, bringing your attention to him. His briefs are abandoned now, your eyes immediately go to his cock. His giant cock that really looks like it needs attention from how pink and swollen it is. Precum is leaking down the tip onto his thighs and you really want to taste it.

“Gimme,” you say, pointing at his cock.

“What?” Mingyu’s eyes are glued to the way your tits bounce with each push of Wonwoo’s cock.

“I wanna taste your precum on your fingers. Now, Gyu!” You demand, so fucking close to cumming all over Wonwoo but still desperate for more.

“Goddamn,” Mingyu curses as Wonwoo’s hand slaps your ass twice in rapid succession.

“Greedy girl wants both of us inside her already, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is strained with the effort not to cum before you do. “Give it to her.”

Mingyu stands, scooping the drops of precum onto his pointer and middle fingers and crosses the room to you. He barely moves his fingers in front of your mouth before you suck them into your mouth. “Shit,” Mingyu sighs, eyes glued to the suction of your mouth around his digits.

Your eyes fall closed, the taste of Mingyu on your tongue and the pounding of Wonwoo’s cock inside you are overwhelming. You cum with a scream, gushing all over Wonwoo as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. “Wonwo-ooo!” You cry, your body falling forward into Mingyu’s, his fingers falling from your lips.

“Yes, pretty girl,” Wonwoo groans, his thrusts becoming wild, “Milk my cock.” You feel him coming, painting your walls and filling you up with his warmth. The grumbled curses falling from his lips make you clench around him one more time, and the moan he emits is nothing short of beautiful.

“God, (y/n), I really fucking love you,” Wonwoo slowly turns you around in his lap, bringing you down to cradle you to his heaving chest.

“Love you, too,” you smile, kissing his neck before licking a trail of sweat from it. How are you still needy? You can feel the cum beginning to drip out of your pussy and squeeze as best you can to keep it inside you.

Wonwoo’s body jolts. “(Y/n),” he groans, “Gonna kill me.”

“Nah,” you smile, “Like you too much.”

A throat clears from behind you, “Yeah, this is sweet and all, but I’d just like to remind you both that I’m so hard I might pass the fuck out.”

You and Wonwoo just grin at each other, much to the displeasure of the boy behind you. You pull back from Wonwoo’s neck to give him a kiss. He smiles against your lips. “Go put him out of his misery before he keeps us up all night jerking himself off.”

“Hyung!” Mingyu cries before muttering, “How did I forget how much of a little shit post-nut Wonwoo is?”

“Not as much of a little shit as pre-nut Mingyu apparently,” you laugh, moaning slightly as you ease Wonwoo out of you. You turn to look at Mingyu over your shoulder. “Help me up, please?”

Mingyu is pouting – again – but ultimately helps you off the bed. You stare up at the boy before you. His hair is damp with sweat, his muscles straining. His cock juts between you, the vein pulsing angrily. You close your hand around it.

“Shit,” Mingyu hisses, body jerking forward into your hold. His cock is hot velvet beneath your grasp.

“Such a good boy,” you murmur, “Waiting so nicely over there while your hyung fucks and fills me.” Mingyu moans at your words, cock twitching with each tug of your fist. “Did you like watching us?” You question, “Did you picture it was you fucking me instead of him? Did you want it to be you that was stuffing me full of cum? That it was you making me cream on your dick?”

“Liked watching you and hyung,” Mingyu pants, eyes rolling to the back of his head, “But want you to fuck me, too.”

“Sit,” you push him back into Wonwoo’s chair. You hear the slight protest from Wonwoo behind you but choose to ignore it. Oops.

Climbing onto Mingyu’s lap, you position yourself over his cock. “You like feeling Wonwoo’s cum coat your cock, baby boy?” You purr, grinding yourself on his dick back and forth.

“Fuck yes, baby,” Mingyu’s hands rest heavily on your hips as you continue to coat his cock with your and Wonwoo’s juices.

“You gonna give me your cum, too?” You lean over, placing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat.

“All of it,” Mingyu’s words die on his lips as you finally take him inside you.

You both curse. He’s bigger than Wonwoo, and the stretch is almost absurd. His grip on your hips turns bruising, but you don’t care. You drag your hands down his back, digging your nails into his pretty skin.

Unlike with Wonwoo, you’re setting the pace, truly riding Mingyu into a frenzy with each swivel of your hips.

“Fuck, baby,” Mingyu moans, biting his lip, “Dreamt about this.”

“Did you now?” You bite his neck, “And how does reality compare?”

“Better than anything I could have thought up,” he pants out, cock twitching inside you. A hand leaves your hips and comes to rest on your pussy. His fingers tease and circle your clit, drawing a moan out of you.

“Your pussy grips me so good.” Mingyu’s head drops to your shoulder, “Wanna stay here forever.”

“Sharing is caring,” Wonwoo says, suddenly popping up in your field of vision. He’s still naked aside from a pair of glasses he must have just slipped on after taking out his contacts. Your eyes fall to his cock… It’s hard again.

“Fuck off, hyung,” Mingyu ducks his head lower and sucks your nipple into his mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, cradling Mingyu’s head closer to you with your palm, “Fuck off, hyung.”

“Careful,” Wonwoo grabs your hair in his fist, yanking your head back to meet his eyes. “I’ll put that smart mouth to work again.”

The sassy reply dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu’s cock jump inside you. “Oh damn,” you giggle, causing the boy to twitch even more beneath you. “He really does like it when we’re mean.”

Wonwoo’s lips quirk, “I know, pretty girl. He’s helpless.”

“Hate y’all,” Mingyu mumbles around your tit. His fingers increase their pace against your clit, drawing you higher and higher.

“She’s close, Gyu,” Wonwoo warns, like it hadn’t already been abundantly clear from your actions. Wonwoo’s hand still grips your hair, while the other is jerking himself off.

“Thank god,” Mingyu stutters, hips shifting up underneath you. “Wanna cum. Please let me cum, baby. Wanna fill you up like Wonu did.”

His pleas more than anything hurtle you closer to coming, the fucked out expression on his face is a thing of beauty.

And so you deny him. “Not yet,” you gasp out, doubling your pace. “Not ‘til I say you can.”

“Fuck, please, (y/n),” Mingyu’s eyes squeeze shut, “Feels so good. Can’t hold on.”

“You better,” you grind your hips viciously into his. “Now suck my tits again like a good boy.”

He listens immediately, moaning around your sensitive nipple as you continue to fuck yourself down onto him.

“You’re wrecking him,” Wonwoo tugs your hair, bringing your attention back to him. His cheeks are pink with exertion as his fist works his cock harder - the tip swollen and leaking. “Where do you want my cum this time, pretty girl? Tell me now.”

“My ass,” you moan, wiggling it before pushing up almost all the way off of Mingyu. “Want you to cum all over my ass, daddy, while my pussy sucks all the cum out of my baby boy.”

“Consider it done,” Wonwoo grins, releasing his hold on your hair to stand behind you in position.

You return your full attention to the boy quaking under you. “P-please, baby,” he whines, “So fucking close.” You place a gentle kiss on his lips. A deception he easily falls for. Cutie. As soon as Mingyu sighs into your lips, you sink down his cock in a split second.

“Ah!” He cries, thighs clenching underneath you. Tears leak from his eyes as he throws his head back, the strain of not coming exhausting him.

“Such a good boy,” you purr, hands stroking up and down his chest. You ride him hard, pace brutal. “Come.”

The word barely finishes before he’s coming with a roar, hands gripping your hips, cock deep inside you. You feel his release shoot so deep within you, joining Wonwoo’s. That thought alone sets you off, your orgasm ripping through you. Seeing stars, you whimper as you feel Wonwoo’s own release paint your ass.

The flutters of your pussy milk every last drop out of Mingyu and the poor boy is spent under you. “Fuck me,” he moans, his head buried in your tits. “Never gonna let you go. This pretty fucking pussy is ours.”

Wonwoo’s hands are on your ass, rubbing his cum into your skin. “Damn right, Gyu,” he agrees, emphasizing his point with a slap.

Mingyu groans as he experiences first-hand what those spanks do to you. “Never thought I’d say this but don’t spank her again, hyung.” You and Wonwoo laugh, and Mingyu groans even louder. “No laughing either! Oh my god.” His frustrations only make you laugh harder.

“Hyung!” Mingyu cries, and Wonwoo finally takes pity.

“Alright,” Wonwoo chuckles, tugging you off Mingyu and into his arms. You pout at the sudden emptiness. “Don’t give me that look, pretty girl. We have all night.”

“We have forever,” Mingyu corrects, standing and running a hand through his wet hair. How the fuck does he still look that good? Honestly, it’s unfair.

“I never said we didn’t,” Wonwoo retorts and sends the both of them into a frenzy of bickering.

Mingyu: “Well, I just wanted to clarify so she doesn’t get ideas.”

Wonwoo: “Ideas?”

Mingyu: “Like– Well– You know!”

Wonwoo: “I don’t know.”

Mingyu: “Yes, you do!”

Wonwoo: “I don’t.”

Mingyu: “… I hate when you do this shit!”

Wonwoo: *pushes glasses up nose* “What shit?”

Mingyu: *produces series of unintelligible babblings*

“Okay, okay!” You laugh, patting Wonwoo’s arms to be put down. “I really need to use the bathroom, but feel free to continue this without me.”

Mingyu shoots Wonwoo a glare, but the other boy only has eyes for you. He sets you down gently, “Go get cleaned up, pretty girl. Feel free to shower and take any clothes you want, okay? We’ll be right out here.”

“I’ll make us some ramen!” Mingyu bounces on his feet, eager to contribute. “Or would you prefer something else? I’ll make anything! I just know you really like ramen. It’s your favorite! But–!”

You cut him off, “Ramen’s perfect, Gyu. Thank you.” You smile up at the gorgeous boy with the even more gorgeous heart. How lucky are you to call him yours?

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes out, looking just as taken with you.

“Okay,” Wonwoo clears his throat, ever the voice of reason. “Now, get going so we can all cuddle, people!” Your heart sings.

“Yes!” You cheer, skipping on the way to the bathroom. “Can’t wait to cuddle in bed with my besties!”

Silence greets your ears.

You slowly turn around to find them both staring at you with displeased looks on their faces.

“What?” You blink.

“Besties?” Wonwoo growls out.

“We just had our dicks inside you, baby!” Mingyu pouts. “Surely that’s boyfriend status?”

“Oh,” you pretend to think it over, enjoying how much this is annoying the two of them. “Anything for my besties, I guess!”

“(Y/n)!” Their voices bellow as you slam the bathroom shut behind you and lock it. Cackling, you turn the shower on. You’re so going to enjoy teasing the shit out of your two new boyfriends. After all, they’ll always be your besties, too.

an: hope y'all enjoyed! it's been so long since i've written anything but damn did minwon give me some inspiration uwu

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ladyempty · 1 month

Note

Hello dear! Can you do daemons reaction to his darling being set to be viserys (his brothers) new wife?

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

For Daemon it was a mix of troubled emotions. Anger, sadness and the bitter taste of betrayal. As soon as the news reached his ears, an uncontrolled rage took possession of his body.

How could Viserys do this to him? Such a lack of consideration? Was he punishing him so cruelly for the recent trouble he's been causing?

It just wasn't fair. If anyone should be her husband, it was him. Your weak brother could never love you with the same intensity that Daemon did or satisfy you like Daemon could.

Fuck all that, the Targaryen prince didn't think twice or give himself more time to stew in his anger before leaving for King's Landing with Caraxes, his anger only increasing with every minute that was wasted by the trip.

The ground shook as the great red beast, older than many who inhabited the fortress, landed in the dragon pit. The caretakers looked at each other for a moment before they stepped back slightly, the beast seemed to share the same agitation and fury as its rider, seeming ready to devour anyone.

Daemon's footsteps were strong and hurried, eyes furious enough to drive anyone out of his way. He didn't wait or ask for it to be announced before entering his brother's private quarters, a dark aura surrounding his figure.

"How could you do that? Aemma's body was barely cooled before you tried to deflower our sister." The prince exclaimed through clenched teeth, fists clenching tightly at his sides, daggers being met by his gaze.

Viserys turned his head quickly to meet his brother's gaze. He was bewildered, almost letting the small dragon sculpture that was carefully carved fall to the ground.

"What are you talking about, Daemon?" He had harshness in her speech, Aemma had always been and always will be a sensitive subject and dangerous territory when it came to the Targaryen king.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about'' He mocked in an accusatory tone, entering further into the room. Viserys's eyebrows furrowed, causing a wrinkle of concern to appear. A tired sigh escapes her lips as he stands up from her seat, facing her younger brother.

"Daemon, it is only the right thing to do. It is my duty and our sister's duty. She must marry and I must marry again." The Targaryen prince gave no room for his older brother's calm words to enter his ears. His mind was well coated with stubbornness and the bitter feeling of betrayal.

"So that's why you denied her to me, for your own selfishness?" Viserys looks slightly offended by the other's words.

"Selfish? I just do my best to keep the kingdom safe and the stability of our home. If anyone is selfish in all of this, it's you, Daemon. Always neglecting your duty in favor of your personal pleasures." Daemon hated that tone, that disappointed father tone that Viserys always used to scold him as if he were still a child doing childish mischief. His jaw clenched, biting the inside of his mouth to keep from saying something that would strike a nerve with the king.

"Marry her to me. I promise to follow what is expected of me as a prince if you agree to give her to me." With the lack of immediate response he continues. "When I support you above anyone else in your claim to the throne, you said I could choose anything as a reward. Give it to me.That will be my reward.”

"If you had asked this sooner, it might have been considered, Daemon." The response was like a cold bande. He expected his brother's refusal, but a small part of him hoped for the best.

"I do everything for you, I've never been anything but loyal to the crown and you but this is how I'm rewarded? Even damn Otto is more respected by you than me."

"Enough, Daemon, keep Otto away from this conversation... It's already decided. Conversation over."

Daemon did not respond, nor stubbornly denied, nor did he agree in submission. He just studied the king for long seconds that stretched into what felt like hours before quickly turning on his heel, the door being slammed shut.

Well, Daemon always got what he wanted in the end. Especially when it was the love of his life that was included in it. He would get what he wanted one way or another. The king cannot accept the already deflowered bride…

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #Yandere Daemon Targaryen #Daemon targaryen x reader #Yandere Daemon targaryen x Reader #Daemon Targaryen x You

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yanderehsr · 11 months

Note

Good Day.. I had this thought in my head all day and I wanted to hear your take on it: Yandere platonic stellaron hunters (Blade Kafka and silverwolf) over a toddler reader. Maybe Elio foresaw Reader being vital to their future plans. Of course Elio just dumps the reader to kafka and they’re all inexperienced with taking care of an actually baby so chaos ensues. I thought of a scenario for each character:

Blade looking for vengeance and just being very blood thirsty but Toddler reader just gives him puppy dog eyes and he just melts:

Blade: All must pay the pric..

Toddler Reader: Dada (does a spit bubble)

Blade(looking shock forgetting for a moment about his vengeance): Can you.. did you just.. can you repeat that..

Silverwolf tired of babysitting toddler reader and listening to baby shark all day long. She gets a genius idea

Silverwolf(hacking the herta space station just to play baby shark throughout the station): If I have to suffer this I’m taking Herta with me!

Toddler Reader(tries to sing baby shark)

Herta: Just shut it all down! (Slowly loosing her mind)

Kafka irresponsibly have toddler reader attach to a baby carrier with headphones on as she goes to the luofu for her mission.

(Kafka shooting at everyone with her guns):

(Reader just chilling on her baby carrier as she listen to Cocomelon)

(Cloud Knights shocked to see a baby on kafka): She kidnaps babies too?!!!

-Sorry for the long request, I just had to get it out of my head. Thanks for reading and I hope you can give me your take on this dysfunctional family.

No need to apologize, and finally Silver Wolf is requested🥰

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour

Out of the three it is only Kafka that wants to raise a child, she finds you cute and that is all it takes for her to be interested, she takes you everywhere she goes, to any mission. Of course she wouldn't take you out to a fight, she doesn't want you hurt.

Silver Wolf takes a bit longer to warm up to you, she is awkward, she doesn't really open up to other people. She tries to play video games with you, it doesn't go well. Herta amd Screwllum are surprised when there is a baby with Silver Wolf in the simulated universe

Blade takes the longest, he doesn't want to raise you, but he grows attached and that is enough to make him grow obsessed, he takes you everywhere, it has started a fight or two between him and Kafka about who gets to have you. He even takes you to his battles, he is confident that he can protect you.

Just don't try and leave them when you grow up, they have frown to attached to you, they might not even let Elio use you to whatever you were supposed to do.

"Awwww, look at them, they are just so cute"

"Keep your hands off, it's my turn to watch them"

"Let's just go, they can continue the fight without us"

There we go, three chaotic caretakers, and I love them all three🥰

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere female #yandere kafka #yandere kafka x reader #yandere silver wolf #yandere silver wolf x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #platonic yandere

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simsyworld · 11 months

Text

Reclaimed Roots, A Legacy Challenge.

One fateful day, as you flip the pages in the local newspaper, your eyes fall upon an advertisement for an affordable farm on the outskirts of town. This farm had fallen into disrepair, abandoned and forgotten by its previous owners, who had inherited the farm but chose to not take care of it. Despite its rundown state, a flicker of hope ignited within your heart. Your dream of owning a small farm to raise your future family may become a reality!

You call the owner’s of the property and they start asking for more money. This went from being an affordable farm to a pricey one! You decide to take a leap of faith and go for it. Packing your belongings immediately and setting out for the neglected farms of your dream. When you arrive, you see just how neglected the farm truly is. You find a weathered farmhouse, its paint peeling and windows cracked, surrounded by overgrown fields and rotten fences. But you see beauty hidden underneath it all.

You see a vision of what this farm could be. A fresh coat of paint, rescued animals, beautiful old oak trees flourishing, children riding their bikes and fishing in the pound. This is where you want your new life you begin.

Required Packs: For Gameplay: Cottage Living, Cats and Dogs, and a pack that allows yard sales. House is made with a bunch of packs but is mostly just all clutter! Main items are from the gameplay packs.

Rules: Aspiration must be country caretaker Start with $500 Place @simsyworld’s lot from the gallery called "Abandoned Farm" hashtag #reclaimedroots or #reclaimedrootslegacy Each generation must live on the family farm. This may call for an extension of the house, a second floor, or a basement. If your sim has more than one kid, they can move out. But the sim you decide to cary on the legacy must live on the farm. Your house has no wifi, so no computers or gaming consoles. A TV can be bought after you fix up the house. Your sim cannot have a job. Make money by yard sales or odd jobs. Your sim’s teenager sim’s can have a part-time job but they must still help out on the farm Wake up by 6:30am every day to take care of the animals (can take a nap after animals have been cared for) Cannot use “the hand of god” (selling in inventory) UNLESS there is more than 20 in a stack of crops. All other items must be sold during a yard sale. Have a yard sale at least once a week, every Sunday. If it is raining you can skip the yard sale. Sell anything you collect, baked goods, rocks, ect.

Generation One

Name the farm after your last name

Clean the house, buy a new mailbox, pick the weeds, and apply a fresh coat of paint to the house.

Find a stray cat to be your farm cat. This cat likes to live outdoors, so place a bed and food outside. If you get a full relationship with the cat, it can live indoors.

Buy 6 chickens and name each one.

Build a relationship with each animal before getting a new one

Enter a Finchwick Fair competition

Befriend the animals and complete the country caretaker Aspiration

Reach level 10 for Farming, Fishing, Cooking

Fall in love with a local farmer

Get married and have a ceremony on the farm

Have 1-2 children

When your first child is born, rescue a puppy that will become best friends with your child

When each sim ages up to a child, you must buy them a bike as a birthday present so your sim’s child can go on adventures.

Teach your children how to fish, cook, and garden

Generation Two

You grow up loving the farm and craving the taste of fresh produce. You watched your parents sell produce and baked goods every Sunday morning and thought it would be a great idea to go bigger! You decide to work towards your goal of making your name in town a staple by opening a store named after your family!

Have the Freelance Botanist Aspiration

Paint the house a new color since after all these years it needs a fresh coat.

Buy your family their first computer now that you have wifi

Reach level 10 for Cooking, Baking, Charisma

Find a stray dog to adopt into the family

Enter a Finchwick Fair competition

Fall in love, get married, and divorced. This relationship didn’t work out.

Own a bakery, store, or restaurant that focuses on the idea of selling food or produce that is fresh. You do not have to have yard sales after you build a store.

Become good friends with at least 20 sims outside of your household.

A local baby/child was dropped off at the fire station. You decide to adopt this sim to live on the family farm!

Build max relationship with your sim’s child.

Teach your sim’s child how to garden, cook, and fish.

Fall in love and get married

Have family dinner all together on Friday nights including your sim’s siblings who moved out

Generation Three

You were adopted into the most loving family. You fell more into the creative side of life. Always drawing, painting, doing arts and crafts. When you got older you fell in love with the relaxation of making floral arrangements.

Have the Painter Extraordinaire Aspiration

Reach level 10 for Floral Arrangements, Painting, Gardening

Make 3 masterpiece paintings

Befriend all the animals on the farm with max relationship

Inherit the family business and turn it into a floral arraignment store. You can also sell your paintings here.

Have 5 maxed relationship friends who you always hang out with

Enter a Finchwick Fair competition

Fall in love with 1 of the 5 friends.

Have family dinner’s on Friday nights and friend dinner’s on Monday night

Find a stray cat to adopt. This cat is obsessed with you and follows you to work at the floral arrangement store.

Marry your best friend and have a ceremony. Invite all of your friends and family

Have as many children as you feel is right.

Do homework with your sim’s children every night

Looking for a Discord server for simmers? Check out our 920+ member server called SimsyWorld! We host weekly challenges and giveaways if you're interested! Click HERE to join!

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Note

I’m obsessed with Levi, absolutely smitten. Thank you for sharing him with us.

If you feel up to it could we get a snippet of someone maybe a rival vampire trying to plant doubts in Levi about the reader. Maybe accusing them of cheating on him and using him, only for Levi to laugh in their face because he knows how devoted and loyal they are to each other.

Just like the opposite of the miscommunication trope. Please and thank you🥺👉👈

I'm so happy you like Levi ^_^ This is just a little thing, but I thought it turned out cute and it's nice to do something lighter after the last one omg :D

Vampire (Levi) x female mom reader

Word Count: 1k

W: sfw vampire fluff

“Ugh,” Levi’s cousin Ivan and leader of his clan in Russia grimaced looking down at Meryl over his glass of blood, “don’t you have a nanny?”

Levi nudged him away from the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib he’d put in his office so she could be nearby. He’d wanted to give you a spa day and he knew you weren’t yet comfortable with the nanny, so he happily offered to keep his favorite cinnamon roll with him.

He also wanted you out of the house when his cousin arrived. He didn’t like males seeing you and he knew how frivolous vampire’s could be. Their lives were long and got boring, rare jewels intrigued them, if only for a time. He’d sent you surrounded by a handful of Amazonian vampire bodyguards, so he felt confident no one would bother you.

“(Y/N) and I have decided to keep her caretakers to a minimum,” he said, “she’s already been exposed to so many different germs and people, there’s no reason to add anymore.”

Ivan snorted.

“So she’s got you babysitting her brat?! Cousin, are you a fool?”

Of course in his time, the idea of a vampire Clan lord carrying around an infant was preposterous, let alone one that was not his son, specifically. Many vampire mothers immediately gave their children to wet nurses so they wouldn’t look weak carrying a drooling baby around.

Levi growled at his cousin, prompting him to lower his voice so as not to wake the baby.

Ivan hissed lightly back, his eyes flashing. Vampire lords didn’t like being told what to do.

“Who is this trollop anyway?” he snapped, though a bit quieter, “I’ve never seen you so wrapped around anyone’s finger.”

Levi looked a little wistful.��

“Just an angel I came across in a fish store,” he murmured, his eyes resting fondly on Meryl.

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

“Fish…store…? And you’ve taken in her bastard? You’re babysitting it? Levi, I know losing Karen must have been hard but-”

Levi’s face hardened and his voice boomed.

“Don’t say her name in my presence!” he snarled.

Meryl cooed that she was waking up and started to whimper realizing she was alone. Levi looked distraught and hurried over to her, picking her up and bouncing her in his arm.

“I’m sorry baby bat, did I wake you?” he cooed, and she gave him a gummy smile, doing her “daddy is picking me up” dance in his hand.

Something about the happiness on Levi’s face when he looked at Meryl and how innocently she completely trusted him incensed Ivan.

“This is absurd Levi. No one can be this happy! How do you know she doesn’t have some lover on the side and she’s just using you? Tugging a vampire lord on a leash?! She’s probably making another one of those things right now! Aren’t you concerned with how this makes the family look?!”

Levi tipped Meryl’s head to his chest so she couldn’t see before he bared his fangs, transforming his face into a more animal version of itself as a warning.

“Now you sound absurd, cousin,” he ground out, more offended that he’d say such a thing in front of his darling baby than taking it seriously, “(Y/N) is a devoted mother and wife. I won't listen to you slandering her in front of our child.”

Ivan snorted and crossed his leg with annoyance, spinning his blood around.

“Goddess, modern romance is so disgusting,” he retorted, turning his face away from the tooth achingly sweet sight of Levi tossing Meryl in the air to make her giggle, “If it were me, I’d never see the thing.”

“That’s why you’re a cold, lonely bastard,” Levi chuckled, “and I have a warm, beautiful family.”

Ivan rolled his eyes.

“Until she backstabs you like your mother,” he snapped.

Levi growled more loudly.

“I told you not to mention her,” he snapped, flipping Meryl over his shoulder by one foot so she wouldn’t see his anger and making her laugh out loud.

“Ugggggh,” Ivan let out the longest groan ever at her pure joy as Levi pulled her back to his chest and found her one of the toys strewn on his desk to play with.

“I’m back my loves!” you sighed as you walked into Levi’s office and breezed past the vampire sitting in one of Levi’s overstuffed chairs. You tossed your purse lazily on his desk, then tipped up on your toes and gave Levi a kiss, then smooched Meryl.

“Feel my face,” you beamed, taking his hand and putting it on your freshly worked over skin, “they did some kind of laser thing to it! It’s super soft!”

He grinned down at you, taking the opportunity to circle your cheek with his fingers. Maybe it was softer than normal, it always felt soft to him, but he was happy you wanted him to touch you. You'd been seeking out his touch more and more, each time delighting him more than the last.

A bit of a tug in the back of your mind reminded you the other vampire was still there and you glanced over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” you asked, looking him over. He looked a bit like Levi, as well, but with wheat blonde hair cropped short and bright blue eyes.

“Uh…this is my cousin, Ivan,” Levi said with as little enthusiasm as possible, “he’s in town for the wedding.”

He was eager to see you since you’d been gone all morning, but he still didn’t like males looking at you, disappointed your spa treatment ended early. For Ivan’s part his mouth dropped and his eyes grew big. He hopped up from the chair and crossed the room, looming over you.

He took your hand and gave it a kiss, smiling down at you with the eyes of a predator behind baby blue irises almost flashing green with envy.

“Levi told me many things about you and I thought he was exaggerating, but he wasn’t lying when he said you are truly lovely. Now I think I understand his fascination. I look forward to seeing more of you, my dear,” Ivan purred, “Levi loves to throw parties so I’m sure there will be plenty of occasions for us to get more acquainted.”

You blinked up at him and extracted your hand from his.

“Er...good to meet you,” you said, wondering if it was a generational gap thing that made him sound so weird to you. Many of Levi's vampires had odd dialects hinting to their time of origin.

Levi bared his teeth and handed Meryl to you, practically shoving his cousin from the room.

“I’ll see you later, cousin!” he growled, slamming the door behind him.

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #sfw monster fluff #monster oc #vampire x reader #angst #yandere fluff #male yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #vampire boyfriend #vampire #monster x reader

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loudgaybug · 5 months

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I wanted to analyse the different ways that their "deaths" affected both Pomme and Em (I say "deaths" because Pomme's was a nightmare, but still shaped her character). Both deaths were inescapable ; caused by undefeatable enemies, however while Em's was short and sudden, restrictive, being held by a leash, Pomme's was long and drawn out, breaking many totems, giving her time to think about how powerless she was as Phil tried to save her. They are narrative foils to each other in my eyes ; Pomme herself said she saw her younger self in Em. They were both young, new eggs - Em being not the absolute youngest, but still viewed and young and fragile the way Pomme was the youngest. They both started out as very caring eggs, with a love of flowers to show their affection. They are also very smart and calculative, Pomme choosing knowledge as her element and Em always paying attention to her surrounding. Em also initially had Pomme's protector mindset, which Pomme learned through experience. They almost had opposite character arcs in my opinion, largely due to the different circumstances and parenting styles they had.

After Pomme's nightmare, she hated how she couldn't fight back. Her parents reactions, particularly Etoiles, were to teach her how to fight and protect herself. They encouraged her to be strong and learn how to take a fight. Pomme's view of the world was also strongly formed by the fact her siblings had all lost lives before her, they were all in danger, they all needed to be protected. She was the only oen with two lives. Her life was less valuable, she must use it to protect others. Em, in contrast, after the egg hospital, is now the only egg with one life, rather than being the target like Pomme with two lives. Now Em is the most fragile, something I'm sure that's hard for her, as she got used to wanting to be a protector.

Em's natural reaction to conflict was to fight, however we first see that change of the day of the egg's bed trapping. She tries to keep up a strong front, but this time, she freezes, she walks around aimlessly, her hands won't work, she can't help, she can't decorate with Sunny and Tubbo. I think when Em gets somewhat stressed she fights, but when really traumatised she can't handle it and her response is to shut down.

In contrast to Pomme constantly being taught by her parents that the important thing is to be strong, and to protect others, reinforced especially by self-sacrificing characters like Bad, Em is consistently taught by her mother she should stay back, run away in conflict, and in fact they get in disagreement about this, because Em wants to help. This is compounded by Tubbo, who consistently teaches Sunny to run, and, when acting as a caretaker for Em, also encourages this mindset. Then when Em talks to her mother about it further, she reinforces Tubbo's teaching, that it's safer both for her and her siblings is Em runs away. But I think its Em's death that really solidifies this, in the same way that Pomme's nightmare solidifies that she wants to get stronger and protect her siblings and provides basis for later teaching. Children are malleable, and they listen to what they are taught and what experiences they have really shape them.

Em's death comes from being at the centre of the action, and, crucially, being restrained, not being able to run or warp away. This forms a strong correlation in Em's mind between being able to get away and being safe. This is then compounded the next day when Bad teaches her how to use the grappling hook to escape easier, and she often uses it now, I think it makes her feel safer. In the same way, Pomme would often unhide her armour, because she wanted to show her strength, and it reminded her that she was stronger now, that she has the power to protect her siblings that she's so scared of losing, and that she has to be the target, she's the safe one, the one with two lives. She also uses armour now to show care, making protective kits for Sunny Em and Pepito. In addition, Em's reminder of her death is flowers, flowers that symbolise change and transformations, symbolic of how her mindset has changed and now she realises she can't be a hero and just wants to be safe with her family. A reminder of Pomme's death and her mission is her scythe Vengeance, which she named so that she could seek revenge for her siblings. A scythe and flowers, two very similiar eggs, who learned very different lessons.

Em started out trying to be protector, wanting to be a hero, ending up realising she had to be a lover. Pomme started out as a lover and found she had to be a fighter aswell.

#qsmp #qsmp analysis #is this anything?#anyway i love these eggs #qsmp pomme #qsmp empanada #q!pomme #q!empanada #empanada the egg #pomme the egg #maybe i will also tackle why chay's protector mindset was formed and sunny's reaction to conflict relating to the time machine #but rn i just had this analysis in my brain rotting

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grimalkinmessor · 10 months

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I love the Light Grows Up In Wammy's House premises but I also think I love it in a very different way than most people do

Like I don't see it as a Childhood Friends/Rivals™ trope for Lawlight, I very much see it as Light growing up being told that there's someone better than him, someone he must not only surpass, but become—and I think he does the opposite of what BB does. He starts to hate L not because of anything L actually did (because they wouldn't have met) but because everyone keeps implying that L is better than him when Light KNOWS that he's the superior one. Beyond finds out that L is addicted to sweets and immediately changes his diet to include cakes and candies, while Light immediately wipes everything sweet from his mental list of desired foods.

He is perfectly polite, he's the baby of the group, and he can do no wrong in every other aspect of life except for the fact that he vehemently doesn't want to take L's place no matter how hard they push him. He wants to become his own sort of detective on his own merit, and he'll be damned if he has to use L's name while he does it. If he solves any cases it's anonymously, under a pseudonym.

And if he ever meets L, they won't be friends. But that vaguely disconcerting teen/man that sometimes sits in the corners of rooms and talks to no one is very interested in what Light has to say, no matter what it is, and seems to both enjoy it when Light talks shit about L and yet is still somehow annoyed by it. They get into heated arguments and he'll steal Light's things and pull his hair and mess up his clothes no matter how many times the caretakers chastise him for it (though even that happens surprisingly rarely). Light would stop talking to him entirely if he wasn't his only hope of getting out of Wammy's little genius factory both physically and mentally intact.

Light makes plans to run away and runs them by the broody teenager he's tolerated, who helps him pick out any holes in his plans, but somehow the staff always seem to catch Light before he can escape. It happens so often that Light even begins to think that someone's snitching on him, but he's only ever told one other person, and he wouldn't care enough to stop Light from leaving....

Would he?

Or, alternatively, Light never meets that stranger in the corner. Instead, Watari happily sternly informs him that L has personally selected Light to help him on cases. Isn't that great? Isn't it an honor? A and B are practically roiling with jealousy, Light should be grateful.

But Light is not grateful. He takes the news with a big ole fake smile, and silently plots L's mysterious disappearance before he's even come face to face with the man. He wants to make it on his own, he doesn't want to be reliant on L's name and Wammy's money and generosity forever, and he loathes the fact that he's been metaphorically chained to L's title in all the ways he didn't want to be.

A tiny Light, accompanying a teenage L places and becoming his face (both because L is petty and because he thinks its funny when police are introduced to a little kid as their Consulting Detective) around the world, all while they throw vicious barbs back and forth and spend quiet Christmases together and throw each other under the bus for fuckups and try foreign cuisines together and struggle to keep (L)/gain (Light) the power and ground they both don't even actually want.

L gives Light all the cases he doesn't want, like he's doing him a favor, and Light regularly calls A and B to smack talk L behind his back and turn the rest of his successors against him.

I can even imagine some amalgamation of both of these scenarios happening, or even eight more vaguely like them in the vein of L and Light being both completely antagonistic towards each other while also simultaneously growing so codependent that they can't stand not knowing what the other one is doing at any point in the day and also get absurdly jealous whenever anyone else even speaks to them.

Or EVEN a scenario where L doesn't pay attention to Light at all until he's grown and out in the world on his own. Light makes a quick name for himself, decidedly divorced from Wammy's influence, and eventually meets L on accident through a case L is working on, wherein L becomes intrigued with him and looks into his history only to find that he's a Wammy kid and L goes "Oh. You're one of mine."

To which Light takes decidedly poorly given that the claim both riles and razes Things™ in him because growing up with the vaguest desires to be like the man in front of you even though you loathe him and those desires were quickly squashed and never thought of willingly or voiced aloud leaves behind both the intense need to alienate yourself from said man entirely and to get close enough to become better than him for all to see and witness—only for Light to find that he can't alienate himself completely from L anymore because L decidedly won't let him and he can never quite seem to surpass him either because L is constantly nipping at his heels, echoing his thoughts with brilliant deductions of his own, and it turns out that trying to intellectually sprint past someone who only starts running when YOU do and has a distinct headstart is harder than it looks.

#long post #death note au #death note #lawlight #yagami light #l lawliet #i legit cannot picture them purely fluffy im sorry it goes against everything in me to right them and pure and loving partners #theyre awful and theyre perfect for each other #wammys house #beyond birthday #alter #a #a fucking...SEETHES when she finds out that L picked the only one of them who didn't actually want to succeed gim #b is more cynical so he's less surprised but he joins in on a's hate in solidarity #on the inside though he thinks its fucking hilarious #grim rants

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year

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Buddy Daddies - Episode 6 - Thought Post - SPOILERS!

First, we now know that it is May 27th, so Miri has been with Kazuki and Rei for about 5 months now. We are very squarely in the "several months later" time frame when the opening from Episode 1 would likely have occurred. (Since several is usually viewed as being between 4 - 7). I'm personally thinking that the opening bit from Episode 1 has likely already happened/passed, since Rei seems slightly (only slightly) more attentive, lol.

It's also interesting that the bulletin about the school trip used 父兄 (fukei) instead of 保護者 (hogosha). Both can mean guardians, but 父兄 (fukei) is seen as a bit more outdated and not as all encompassing as 保護者 (hogosha), since fukei is made up of the kanji for "father" and "older brother." It makes me wonder if that little reminder was aimed specifically at Kazuki and Rei, lol.

Also interesting that Kazuki used ママとも (mama-tomo) instead of ママたち (mama-tachi) or something similar when pluralizing and talking about "the other mothers" when saying "Of course, the other mothers all say the same about their kids." It implies that he sees himself in that group rather than outside of it.

I really liked how the focus of this episode was in having a bit more faith in your children (and in how you've gone about raising them) and also how children can behave differently in a school setting than at home. Since I have definitely seen that before with kids when I worked as a teacher. I would mention how well behaved they were or mention something behavior-wise during Parent-Teacher Conferences, and the parents would be surprised, since it was different from their at home behavior.

Taiga was interesting to me, especially because earlier in the episode Kazuki was mentions to Miri that she doesn't understand the difference between right and wrong yet, and many children her age are still learning that and really don't know (also, just realizing that this was said over an image of Rei, highlighting the fact that he is still kind of learning this as well).

I feel like that was Taiga. We learn later that he is a big Morio Kart fan, but he must have had the impression that the others weren't, so he might have acted out a bit in order to get their attention (the other girls). I had a boy, also named Taiga, who used to behave a bit similarly. He was a big fan of zombies, but none of the other kids were, so he acted out in order to get attention and fit in.

The miscommunication between what actually happened (Miri accidentally hit his hand) vs. one of the caretakers thought a fight had occurred, is a very true and accurate thing as well. Young kids Miri's age can communicate their thoughts and feelings, but they may have a tough time communicating it properly still.

Like, Miri knew she didn't hit Taiga and that there hadn't been a fight, but she didn't know how to fully explain it to Kazuki, and likely a similar thing happened with the caretaker at the daycare. They eventually got it all straightened out though.

I love, love, love that Rei was the one who read through the notebook at the end. And how he took Miri to school with little complaint. He really is wrapped right around Miri and Kazuki's fingers and will go at their pace, huh (like the lyrics of the OP). But, I also think it highlights the ways in which Rei is becoming more proactive too. He seems more engaged with being an actual parent.

I can't really explain it well here either, but there is something subtle about the writing that really captures and shows how, with each passing episode, they are becoming more and more like a family. Rei and Kazuki's conversation in the car at the end of the episode felt like a very real conversation that parents would have at the end of the day. I felt they did a good job of making Miri and Taiga's friendship feel like a friendship too, and not any kind of 4 year old crush situation (regardless of what Kazuki's overactive imagination might think!)

Last week's episode introduced us to Kazuki's overactive imagination and his flaw of jumping to conclusions, but this week's episode showed how that could negatively impact Miri. I'm glad he has Rei to reel him in, though him imagining Miri as a delinquent girl made me laugh. Though, I am sincerely hoping that Miri turns out to be a lesbian otherwise Kazuki being so overprotective will turn into an issue in the future. Hopefully, Rei will be able to work on that with him over the years.

The above image, of a teen Miri with a teen Taiga also reminds me of an incident when I was working at as a shadow trainer for an ALT at a junior high school in Kawasaki City in Kanagawa Prefecture. The school’s in that area don’t have a great reputation, so while the ALT I was training was teaching a class, I was outside the halls, just going for a little walk. Then I saw two of the students (a boy and a girl) go into the bathrooms together. They had made it clear previously that they were dating, so I just ended up turning around and going in the other direction, because I had zero desire to get involved in any of that - as ALTs you can’t discipline students).

Rei had some absolutely stellar comedic moments this episode from him asking Miri how the fight went and not caring about the violence (which makes sense given his upbringing). To Kazuki mentioning that Miri got their genes and Rei's reply of "Our what?" (Dude was 100% questioning his understanding of biology and genetics right then), to him adding the "paca" verbal tic at the end of one of his sentences, even after they were out of the mascot outfits, seems he got too in-character, lol.

His smug expression whenever Miri preferred him was also unexpected but great!

Oh, also! Before I forget, Miss Anna is a gem and she must have been so worried when she couldn’t find Miri and the others! Anyway, I hope the rest of the field trip was a breeze for her. <3

#Buddy Daddies #Kazuki Kurusu #Rei Suwa #Miri Unasaka #Anna Hanyu #Buddy Daddies spoilers #BD spoilers #BD #long post #image heavy post #meta post #thought post

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ratinayellowbandana · 5 months

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Hound "baby boy" of Ill Omen for prompts!

first off, thank you for carrying this whole ship on your back. you are our strongest soldier and we appreciate you.

second, even more thanks for sending this my way! I hope this is something like what you had in mind!

if anyone else sees this and would like to toss a little prompt my way, feel free :)

wc: 934

cw: body horror…kind of? it’s just canonically what the good boy looks like

~~~

Imogen loves Laudna. She does. Quite a lot, in fact.

Because it is a fact.

It may as well be written in stone. In the stars. Recorded on one of those dusty scrolls in elegant script and stuck on a shelf in some stuffy library for the next bored student who may happen across it and learn of two witches who saved the world.

Laudna, it must be noted, is a woman of many quirks.

And Imogen, it must be noted, adores her for them.

They are just as much a part of Laudna as the angle of her nose, the brightness in her eyes. As are her projects, macabre and scrounged as they often are, and so Imogen adores them, too.

(If it takes her a moment to come around, Laudna must never know. Each new creation, presented to Imogen with all the glee of a child in a sweets shop, will only ever be met with enthusiasm. Laudna, she knows, has spent too long squirreling away the odd parts of herself. Imogen is determined to recover them.)

“Come here, darling,” Laudna calls, and the flesh-and-bone creature that scared the everloving fuck out of Imogen the first time he burst from his maker’s chest trots happily to her side, tongue lolling from a fleshless snout.

The hound twines between Laudna’s legs, and she lifts her skirts to allow him through. He leans heavily against the inside of her knee, and Laudna beams. She bends at the waist to wrap the creature in spindly arms. His back arches, and Imogen can hear the vertebrae curving, clacking, as Laudna scratches behind his one intact ear. The ichor-tipped remnant of a tail begins to wag, shaking them both with the force of it.

He spots Imogen several paces away, and his green eyes glow, peering at her curiously.

Laudna has stopped her scritches, and the hound tilts his big head. Laudna looks up, meets Imogen’s fond gaze, and her lips split into a wide grin.

“Go on,” she pats the creature’s sides encouragingly, “say hello if you like.”

The hellhound bounds forward, released from his command.

Imogen recalls the day he learned his tricks.

Laudna had found Imogen lounging beneath a copse of trees one afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to sink, casting the forest in dappled shades of orange and gold. The festering hound loped diligently at her heels. His paws colored the leaf-strewn ground iridescent black in their wake.

“Look!” Laudna had said, chest puffed. She turned to her newest creation and pointed one finger. “You’ve been so obedient all afternoon. I’ll see about giving you something from my collection if your other mom approves of your skills. I should have a deer leg that will suit you nicely.” She contemplated for a moment. “Ready?”

The hound stretched into a bow, muscle snapping over exposed bone, yawned, and shook. Drops of blood and ichor spattered the clearing, but Imogen hardly noticed, too caught up in Laudna’s casual statement.

She had said it nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just gifted Imogen something extraordinarily precious. As if Imogen’s senses hadn’t suddenly gone askew. As if she hadn’t just sent Imogen’s worldview slip-sliding into something new and dangerous and so welcome that it felt like a homecoming. Her mind spun until she was almost giddy with it. She wondered, then, how something said so simply could feel so significant. If Laudna understood what she had done.

She had appointed Imogen the caretaker of a fragment of her soul. Of a creature that had been born of her, born from her. Crafted from the essence of her with whispered words and a desire to protect.

“Imogen?” Laudna had said then, “Are you ready?”

And Imogen had glanced between Laudna and her hound, who sat on bleeding haunches and looked expectantly at his mother, and it was all she could do to swallow the creak in her throat.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

Now, as the hound nearly bowls her over, Imogen cannot find it within herself to be mad at him. Not even at the dark stains on her dress. They’ll come out with a prestidigitation or two. She knows from experience.

She falls back in the grass and stares down twin emeralds. A broad tongue laps the side of her face, and she laughs, trying to dodge a cold, wet nose against her cheek. Her hands come up to cup the sides of his muzzle.

“Hi, baby boy,” she coos. She rubs at his ears, and he presses harder into her palm, groaning loudly. She can feel the vibration in her chest.

Laudna scolds, “What have I said about knocking people over?” Her hands rest firmly on her hips. “Honestly, Imogen, you could at least discipline him. How will he learn?”

Imogen rolls her eyes, shrugs. “I’m the fun mom. He comes to me because he knows he can’t get away with anything when you’re around.”

Laudna huffs. “I’m sorry that I want our son to be civilized.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” The hound flops to the ground, sprawling over Imogen’s outstretched legs, and she lets out an oomph of surprise. “Are you going to join us down here?”

Laudna sighs and settles beside Imogen, resting her head on Imogen’s shoulder. She runs her hands over the creature’s exposed belly, avoiding the biggest of the perpetually oozing wounds. His jaw unhinges happily. His tail thumps a steady rhythm against her shin.

Imogen presses a kiss to the top of Laudna’s head, and Laudna relaxes into her.

A soft smile spreads across Imogen’s lips.

#this was written in an hour on the highway so please forgive any mistakes #I adore the baby boy #but for real many thanks for letting me take a stab at this #always honored to see you pop up in my notes :)#hope this works!#prompt fill #my fic #imodna #imodna fanfic #critical role #laudna #imogen temult #hound of ill omen #fic #cr3 #critical role fanfiction #ask #horse-immorality

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ryker-writes · 1 year

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TWST characters as siblings (Diasomnia)

Sorry but there's no Lilia as sibling. I really don't know that much about him and we don't know anything about his family, childhood, or even details about his regular life. Plus he's like Silver's father.

Malleus:

yet another royal

and not just from any royal family but the Draconia family

being royalty meant that there weren't a lot of people you could hang out with as a child

most of those you could hang out with were guards

but then there was your brother Malleus who you could always hang out with

you two spent a lot of time with each other growing up

naturally you two are close

Lilia was also with you two a lot growing up but more as a caretaker

occasionally Lilia would travel somewhere and bring the two of you gifts

the three of you would do everything together in the giant castle

throughout your days the two of you played, ate ice cream, learned magic, and studied together

Malleus is super happy when you end up in NRC together

he's even more happy if you end up in Diasomnia with him

you're someone he really cares about so of course he wants you to be near him

and all the knights are in Diasomnia anyway

if you end up in a different dorm, he will be annoyed

travelling to another dorm just to hang out with you would be inconvenient

he's extremely annoyed if you end up in Savanaclaw

only then would he try to see if you could transfer dorms

probably would have a hard time understanding why you wouldn't want to switch so good luck

Malleus is a protective brother

he won't stop you from making friends or talking to people, he'll even encourage it

but he worries when you start to spend less and less time with him

there's a small part of him that thinks you're going to stop being around him all together and that thought scares him

but he won't act on his worries

if you tell him about a romantic relationship, he's even more worried

he will try to get to know your partner to see what type of person his dear sibling treasures

he may also be slightly passive aggressive to your partner

there's also the other person who is protective of you...Sebek

since you are part of the royal family and Sebek is a knight meant to guard you and Malleus, he treats you the same way he treats Malleus

basically no one is allowed within 6 feet of you and they must watch what they say

Silver and Lilia are much more relaxed about others being around you

you probably have endured some of Malleus' gargoyle speeches in the past, so don't be surprised when he starts telling you about the gargoyles at NRC

he also invites you on some of his late night walks

most students will treat you similarly to Malleus, and they avoid you sooooo good luck

Silver:

father Lilia has two children???

you grew up with Silver

Lilia had you both living in a cabin in the woods

and Lilia wasn't there half the time so...

you and Silver spent a lot of time together and were very close

Silver spent a lot of time training to be a knight and Lilia helped him

if you wanted to train with them and become a knight yourself, they would both be thrilled

Lilia would be such a proud dad and Silver would love to have someone he can train with

if you didn't want to they would respect your decision and just let you watch the training

though Lilia would insist he teach you how to defend yourself at least

Lilia would take care of you two while he was there

this means you get told all sorts of stories, getting to play together, and he teaches you things

you also have to eat his food so good luck

when Lilia isn't there, Silver helps take care of you

he's a pretty decent cook (much better than Lilia anyway)

when big animals came near the house Silver would go out and handle them

Silver is glad that you two get to go to NRC together

he would be happy if you got into Diasomnia with him but won't really be upset if you get assigned elsewhere

Silver is not a protective brother at all

he doesn't mind when you make new friends and will even encourage you to make new friends and spend time with them

he would like to know who they are but won't get too involved beyond that

similar situation if you were in a romantic relationship but he would like to know more than just who they are

he would try to get to know them a little more

he's happy for you

Silver falls asleep often around the school so maybe help him

like if he falls asleep in an inconvenient place or in the middle of doing something

he's pretty relaxed most of the time so he's perfect if you need someone to talk to or to get something off your chest

he's a great listener and will fight off any drowsy spell for as long as he can to listen to what you're saying

Sebek:

are your eardrums okay?

there's a chance he got that loud voice from one of his parents

even if he didn't you still live with him and grew up with him

aside from Sebek you have two other siblings

both of your parents were often busy working at their dental clinic so you and Sebek would go visit your grandpa

he would teach the two of you how to fish and you and you two would often play in the water, sometimes with your other siblings too

Sebek would often talk about becoming a knight and serving Lord Malleus

sometimes he would even go off to train with Lilia

he would be so happy if you wanted to become a knight with him

if not that's okay too

your other siblings are a quite a bit older than you and Sebek so you and Sebek were somewhat close

he's happy that you two get to go to NRC

even happier if you get into Diasomnia with him

he wishes for you to witness Malleus' glorious presence too

if you don't get into Diasomnia he may be upset, but won't even think about you changing dorms

not that he wouldn't want to, but more because that idea doesn't come to him

Sebek is a little protective

he won't stop you from making friends or anything but if feels someone said something offensive to you he will start shouting

even if it wasn't offensive or you don't take offense

he does for you

you are family so in his mind a insult to you means an insult to him too

if you get into a romantic relationship, he's internally conflicted

on one hand he wants you to be happy and hates the idea of ruining your happiness

but he also worries about them hurting you

so conflicted that he's strangely quiet when your partner is around or gets brought up

like I said: he want's you to witness the perfection that is Malleus Draconia

so he'll try to bring you around Diasomnia often

he just wants you to see him and if you're lucky you can talk to him

but if you say something that Sebek thinks is wrong he's so sad

immediately falls to the floor apologizing to Malleus

his family is a part of him so anything you do reflects on him too

you also get daily updates on what amazing thing Malleus has said or done

most students assume you're going to be really loud at first and yell at them over small things

some may also come to you when Sebek is yelling at them and ask for help

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #twst malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst silver #silver x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader

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cheeriecherrymain · 9 months

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papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

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