Metallicaislife Masterlist

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirty —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.8k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter is all from Blue's perspective. if anything regarding the abuse or suffering of children triggers you do not read. though it is really not graphic at all (imo) and the SA is EXTREMELY implied and subtle (just a woman looking/potentially touching Blue's private area to check for virginity). I wanted to tell you so there are no surprises.

B

Blue hasn’t been without her father for more than an hour in over five years. There were moments when she'd imagined him disappearing, especially when he said no to her, when he could annoy her, push her too hard, or withhold the words she craved. And yet—now, with her head resting in Twix's lap, she can only long for him. The thought of his absence fills her with cold dread. The kind that erupts goosebumps on her arms despite the stuffy air in the room. Twix’s fingers gently stroke the back of her scalp, but it does little to ground her as her mind drifts to Ghost. He’s alive, that woman said. But it's been over a day, and he still hasn’t come for her.

"Do you think he will come soon?" she asks quietly.

Twix's fingers pause at the top of her hairline. "I think... I think he is doing everything he can to find you."

Blue is old enough to know that is a non-answer.

She knows, deep down, that Twix doesn't think he'll be coming, either.

"I will figure something out, okay?" she promises.

"Okay," Blue whispers noncommittally.

"Hey." A faint smile. "I've done pretty good at getting us out of shit in the past, right?"

Blue mumbles, "I guess so."

But this time felt different from those times. No matter how many times she catches Twix squinting around the room, murmuring things to Nereida, even Blue knows that a bright idea won’t magically appear. Not in here, where there is nothing except the three beds, the bolted cell, and the out-of-reach door that Ghost has yet to barge through.

When Blue's fingers instinctively search for her wrist, Twix’s face softens, and she gently encloses her palm over Blue's knuckles. "Alright. I want you to close your eyes and imagine that beach you showed me once. The one with white sand, and super blue water." Blue plays along with a deep sigh, closing her eyes as she feels a callused thumb brush her cheek. "Almost as blue as your eyes. See it?"

"I guess."

"Good. Now, I want you to imagine that you are lying on the sand, eating all the Twix bars and Nutella you want. Oh, and Grim is there. He was trying to make a sandcastle but got his head stuck in the sand."

Blue's lips twitch despite herself. "This is dumb."

"Dumb? Well, I don't think Grim finds it dumb. He can hardly breathe right now so you better stop eating chocolate and haul his ass up."

Blue snorts quietly, eyes screwing tighter as she imagines it; pulling the bunny out of the sand, giggling, the waves crashing. She falls back onto the sand with him in tow, but he darts away from her hands, toward the water. When she looks over, sun glaring, someone else is there. It's her father, and for a moment she is ready to jump on his back and beg him to play in the waves with her. That's when she notices he is keeled over, ripped apart, bloodied and battered.

Blue jolts, inhaling sharply. When she reopens her eyes, the image is still there. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I just saw—" she rubs her eyes profusely, but he's right in front of her. Blood begins to spurt from a sever in his throat. His head snaps forward, hanging by a thin thread of tissue. "I see him! H-his head is..." 

She jerks upright from Twix's lap, her eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to shake off the vision. When that doesn't help, she buries her face in the pillow, but the image remains too real to ignore. The thread snaps, and her father’s head rolls away silently.

Twix’s voice cuts through, her hands gently shaking Blue’s shoulders, but it feels distant, like a shadow compared to the sickening thud of her father’s headless body hitting the ground. Thick blood pools at her feet, and she tries to move, but her muscles won’t obey. The blood rises and rises, suffocating her, until she can’t breathe.

"Blue, it's just... you're imagining it."

"I can't... I can't..."

Someone flips her over on the bed and hugs her shoulders.

Twix's chapped lips press into her cheek.

"Please, Blue. I'm here."

The touch is enough to drain the blood and free her lungs. Her father's dead body floats away. She gulps for air, cold sweat clinging to her neck, and curls into the body beside her. Lingering panic races through her heartbeat, but then, after a minute, it begins to slow considerably. A new feeling washes over with the force of a tidal wave; fatigue.

Blue suddenly feels so tired that she can't keep her eyes open. It’s as though the terrible images have drained her entirely, leaving only murky water in their place. Her mind begins to float, and the edges of the world blur. Twix's face is in front of her yet feels so far away. Her lips try to part for words to come out, but it takes three tries just to manage: "I feel strange."

Across the cell, Nereida whispers, "I do, too."

Weight shifts on the mattress as Twix tries to sit up, leaning against the wall. Her head dips slightly, then snaps back up. A shaky inhale. "That... that fucking bitch. The oatmeal!"

The oatmeal? Blue’s thoughts latch onto the warm meal they’d been forced to eat, but the memory slips away before she can hold onto it. The slow descent snowballs. Twix’s voice distorts, blending with the chirping of birds outside the window. Her body slides down the wall, crumpling back beside Blue. She tries to hug Twix again, but her arms won’t cooperate.

Minutes later, or maybe hours, Blue hears the metal screech of the cell door swinging open. Veiled ghosts drift in. She can do nothing to run from them. Murmured voices, speaking words she doesn't understand, bleed through the heavy blanket of fog lying over her.

"Vous avez dit que celui-ci était intact?"

"Oui, Maman."

"Nous offrirons son corps pur au Seigneur. Les deux autres seront aptes à avoir des enfants."

"Mais elle est une... Je veux dire, oui, Maman."

She feels something cold and sinuous lifting her—snakes. No, not snakes. Hands. Cold, unfamiliar hands. Twix shouts something slurred. Then Blue is dragged by her feet, her spine no longer supported by the bed. She tries to squirm free, but her limbs feel heavy, useless. More hands clamp down on her arms.

No, no.

She wants to call for Twix, but her voice is muffled beneath a palm, the sound dying in her throat.

A weathered voice coos in her ear. "Sweet child. There is nothing to fear."

She can't scream.

All she knows is Twix is no longer the one beside her.

Cold fear surges through her veins, and she claws at someone’s arm. The retaliation is swift—a prick to her neck.

The strike of pain intensifies her dizziness, the last fight in her body fading away. They're dragging her again. The hard floor beneath her feet melts into soft grass, and the stark white ceiling shifts into a blue, cloudless sky before everything fades to black.

A gentle melody repeats in her subconscious until she rouses.

The same three-note tune, over and over.

Peeling her eyes open against the buttery sunlight, the first thing she notices is an open window above her head, its thin white curtain dancing in the light breeze. Upon the windowsill sits a small, cooing bird with pearly grey feathers and a black ring around its neck. Its head tilts almost mechanically, two little black eyes regarding her. She stares for a long moment before her eyes fall closed once more, lulled by the familiar call. Only when the bird quiets does she truly come to her senses. The sudden silence jolts her upright.

This isn't the same room she was in before. There hadn’t been a window in the cell, and certainly not one left open. The air there had been thick with the scent of old wood and lingering dust. But here... here, the air is different. It smells of fresh flowers, of the tall grass she used to wade through with Ghost while hunting. 

The bird calls once more before flittering away, leaving her reeling.

"A collared dove."

Her gaze snaps to the right where an old woman sits in a mahogany chair, knitting needles in hand. Without looking up from the red yarn she weaves, she explains idly, "They are very common. Lovely, but common."

The accent of her old voice is nothing like Blue's Mancunian one. But she understands each word.

Her voice pulls through her teeth with great effort. "I don't... Where am I?"

The old woman's brow furrows as if she is deep in thought, but it smoothes over after she undoes a stitch and loops it again, hands moving with an unnatural slowness. "You had them in England, yes? They are very common there, too."

Blue's fingers spread into the fine linen, her pulse ticking as she blinks a few times to sharpen her vision. The woman before her is older than anyone she has seen in a long time, though there is a faint resemblance to a woman deep in her memory who she believes was her grandmother. Unlike the woman who visited their cell with food, this one does not wear a veil over her face. Long wisps of gray hair fall over her shoulders. Wrinkles etch around her eyes and lips. She is still cloaked in white, but around her neck hangs a red cord beaded with a cross dangling at the end.

Her fingers clench. "I don't care about the-the stupid bird. Why am I here? Where are my friends? You..." she swallows the feel of sandpaper in her mouth, "You put something in the food. You made me lose control of myself again!"

Finally, grey-blue eyes flicker up beneath a questioning brow. "Oh, sweet child. You are so full of fire." With an unsettling calmness, the woman sets down the knitting needles on a carved side table. Pressing a palm to the surface of it, she rises slowly, then laces her hands in front of her. "Come, and perhaps your questions will be answered. Though, I wouldn't try to run." She moves toward the door, her gait shuffled but steady. A glance over her shoulder beckons. "Your friends are under my care."

The mere mention stiffens Blue's spine. She forces herself to her unsteady feet, swaying slightly, bare toes digging into the wood planks. Each small step feels lighter than the first time she woke up from being drugged, though her body still protests. Ahead, the woman is already walking away. It wouldn’t take much to catch up, but Blue lingers, her eyes sweeping the room with deliberate caution—always stay aware of your surroundings.

For a moment, she considers grabbing the knitting needle and stabbing the woman. But then what? Everyone, her father included, is under her care, and any misstep could mean their deaths. Ghost always told her to never act without some type of plan—to wait for the right moment. Blue doesn’t even know where the others are.

As she hesitantly steps out of the small house, the realization hits her. There are more people here than she’s seen in a long time. Almost like a town, but not really. Smaller than that, but more than her group. The building they just left is a small, home made of light grey stone. To her right are more homes, smoke billowing from the chimneys. She counts at least four of them. Straight ahead of her is gravel road. This is where the woman heads, with Blue trailing behind her. To the left is a stretch of green lawn, bright and lush. She has the itch to sprint over it, but a voice ends that idea.

"Catch up, girl." 

Gravel bites her toes as she walks to the woman's side. She is still only dressed in the simple, white slip. She hasn't worn a dress before.

"Where are you taking me?"

"There are some things I wish you to see." 

"Why... why can't the friends I was with be here to see them, too?"

From the corner of her eyes, Blue catches the woman smile lightly. "What do you think of France?"

Blue digs her nails into her palms, swallowing down her frustration at the non-answer. "It's... nice, I guess." It isn't a lie. The beautiful beach they left from, the fields of wheat and flowers, were things she'd only imagined before. 

"Good. My husband was from India but owned this land. I never wanted to leave it. France is the most beautiful place. I knew I wanted my son to grow here." She exhales in a quiet appreciation. "My husband said this land would thrive, even after the plague. He was right. The Lord spared it. He did not spare Ashwin, though."

Blue doesn't know what to say to that. If she should feel sorry for this person or not. She didn't state her husband's death in a sorrowful way, merely factual. As they walk, they pass a few men hunched over tree stumps, chopping wood. The smell of fresh earth and spilt sap wafts up her nose. The men glance up, their gazes lingering on Blue a moment too long, making her shift uncomfortably. Then, they lower their heads respectfully toward the woman. She speaks to them in French, and their chuckles follow her words.

Under a warm afternoon, they approach what looks like a large barn, bordered by wooden fence posts strung with taut wires. Inside the fenced area, Blue notices a white horse, smaller than Cherry, along with four cows. More men are working nearby, some tending to the animals while others, farther off, wield sickles to harvest stalks of wheat.

When they stop in front of the fence, Blue can't stop herself from asking, "Where are all the girls at? Like the one who fed us? I've only seen guys so far."

The woman doesn't look at her. "Our community is built around the roles God intended for us. Men have bodies made for working under the sun. Women, like those beautiful young ladies you traveled with, are vessels to be cherished, protected. Especially in these times when they have become rather scarce."

A few of the words fail to make sense to Blue, never having learned them from any of the books Ghost read her. "Um, is that why you separated the girls in my group from the men?"

She hums, a slow sound. "Women are kept in their own quarters with the infants."

"Okay," Blue rocks on her feet and grips the hem of the dress before the light air can catch it. So is her dad one of those men working, then? She quints, confused, and shakes her head. No; if he was anywhere out here, he would've come to her. He must be locked up, too. A wave of anger buzzes in her chest, louder than the cicadas. "That still doesn't explain why you are holding Twix and Nereida prisoner. If women are so special, why are they locked up and I am out here? And where are all the men from my group?" Her mind briefly flashes to the others; Kyle, Price, and... Ari. 

"None of them are prisoners, child. They are merely being readied for the role their bodies were created for, by God."

Blue grits her teeth. "You're not really answering my questions. What about me? Why did you bring me to," she glances back at the working men, who haven't stopped to look at her like the others had, too engrossed in the strenuous labor. "A fucking farm. What could you possibly want to show me here?"

"There is someone I need here before our next stop." She leans closer to the barbed fence and calls out, "Pierre! J'ai besoin de toi et de trois hommes pour nous accompagner jusqu'à la cale. Apporte les chaînes."

A man—Pierre, she guesses—strikes one of the cattle's hindquarters, wipes sweat from the back of his neck, then shouts in French to three others following behind him. They unlatch a gate in the fence and slip inside a small shed for a brief moment, emerging with rusted chains in hand. They approach, causing Blue to falter and step back. An old, strange woman is one thing, but three strong men are another. A fissure of terror cracks through her, and she inhales shakily.

"You need not be afraid."

She blinks up at the woman, who for a moment, conjures something similar to a comforting expression. Blue nods, and then they are walking again, with the four men trailing behind them. The sound of the chains dangling in their grasp makes her feel uneasy. What are they for, and why are they coming with them? She is ready to build the bravery to ask when the woman ghosts a hand on her shoulder.

"What is your name, child?"

"It's... um, Blue."

A soft chuckle. "The English and their strangeness. This is not your real name, is it?"

For some reason, Blue finds the truth stuttering out of her. "No, it's—the name I was born with is Amelia."

"Amelia. Much better. Tell me, Amelia, did your mother have blue eyes?"

Blue nearly chokes, her footsteps halting in the grass as she flinches away from her hand, curling her fingers into fists. "What the fu—why are you asking me that?"

The woman stops beside her and clasps her hands together, the long sleeves of her gown falling over them. She is small woman, hardly taller than Blue, and can't be any stronger than she is, but something about her emits control. Blue can't look away from her eyes, even as her jaw tightens, stomach swirling.

"They are many answers to questions that can be discovered on their own if one simply looks for them. I know which one of them is your father—"

"How could you know?" Blue demands. "I haven't even said any of them was my dad."

Thin lips twitch at the side. "A daughter gets the shape of her face from her father." A bony finger reaches to trail the edge of Blue's cheek, and she trembles from the cold feel of it. "But the features are all from her mother." She looks away and continues walking, speaking over her shoulder, "A little dove might have also told me he was asking for you."

When the men step forward, Blue is forced to continue walking. It feels hard to breathe, even though the canopy of trees offer fresh, rich air. "Then why are you asking about my mother?"

"Your eyes are blue, but your father's are not. I was simply curious."

"My mother is dead," Blue finds herself gritting out. 

"I figured. Neither of those women were her, and many mothers have been lost. A very terrible thing. A child needs its mother. You will call me Maman, Amelia. This is what French children call their mothers."

"I am not going to fucking call you that. Tell me where we are going," Blue presses, swallowing as she looks back at the farm behind them. Through the gaps between the men's shoulders, she sees that it is rather distant now, along with the small homes. She looks back ahead; nothing but overgrown vegetation. Even the flowers have grown sparse over here. It is quiet and still. She can hear the thrum of her own heart.

"Your fire is admirable, but you need to learn respect." For the first time, Maman's voice carries an edge, one that sends a shiver down Blue's spine. A foreign bird call echoes through the leaves, and the woman holds up a hand, signaling for everyone to stop and listen. "Ah. That’s the Bluethroat, if I’m not mistaken. Much rarer than the dove. You won't often find those in England."

The bird calls again—a trilled chirp—as they crest over a small hill, and the air suddenly grows heavier, more pungent. A smell Blue knows well makes her freeze, but a strong grip on her arm keeps her moving toward the source of the stench: an old, smaller building made of much darker stone. The sharp rustle of wings through the trees fades into the distance, but the tension in her body doesn’t ease.

"You, too, are rare, Amelia," Maman continues, voice steady and unhurried. "A pure, young female like you—so virtuous—carries more favor from God than any other. Your friends have their purpose, and you have yours. Each of us plays a part in shaping the new vision of God's children."

The men move in front of them now, except for one who continues gripping Blue. The tremble in her body intensifies, and a cold pit grows unbearable in her chest, thundering. She is forced to stand about four meters in front of the large door, where one man grips the handle while two others, including Pierre, stand beside it, their hands ready with chains and their stances wide. It’s now, through the stinging film that grows over her eyes, that Blue notices large metal muzzles attached to the chains.

Blue is too stunned—too confused, yet frightfully aware—to move a muscle when Maman procures a knife from inside her robe. Pierre shouts something in French, but Blue can barely hear him. Her senses are fixed on the bead of sunlight glinting off the knife, and on the scratching and snarling she hears from the other side of the door.

"Please—" she gasps, unable to finish the thought.

Maman ignores her in favor of snatching hold of her wrist. Cold fingers force her arm to extend, and a burning pain cries out when the knife slashes a laceration from her elbow to the rim of her palm. 

"Une seule coupure pour les attirer."

The blood weeps, and the door shakes from the ignited frenzy behind it.

Tears finally escape Blue’s eyes just before the door opens. She feels it—the sensation of her body being torn apart beneath rotten teeth. She squeezes her eyes shut, thinking of Ghost, when she hears more shouting and the harsh sound of chains being whipped through the air. When she opens her eyes again, the men are wrestling two Greys into the muzzles.

"Deux c'est bien!" Maman orders, and the door is slammed shut over the others that threaten to spill out toward the fresh wound. 

Blue is alive.

Her arm numb and bleeding. 

Maman yanks something else from her robe—a strip of cloth. She wraps it roughly around Blue's forearm, then issues another command. Without warning, Blue is hoisted from the ground and callously tossed over the shoulder of the man who had held her in place. They start heading back the way they came, the leashed Greys trailing behind them, and finally, a scream rips from Blue’s throat.

"You said this one was intact?" "Yes, Maman." "We will offer her pure body to the Lord. The other two will be fit to have children." "But she is a… I mean, yes, Maman." "Pierre! I need you and three men to accompany us to the hold. Bring the chains." "One cut to attract them.” “Two is good!”

Viserys every new episode💀💀 bro is STRESSED 😭

More than Friends

Summary: can you do a slash imagine where slash hates her and she’s friends with Steven so they see each other a lot and they start becoming friends and then become lovers with some smut.

Requested: yes by anon

Warnings: sex

To say that Slash disliked Y/N was an understatement. Every time she was around him, he had some snide, rude comment about her, and she never understood why. There was nothing that she could think of to bring on his wrath and to have it all directed towards her.

And in all honesty, she would rather not hang out with him, but her best friend was friends with him too. Y/N couldn’t say no to Steven sometimes, so she tried her best to just play nice with Saul and act as if his comments didn’t affect her like it did.

She sat in the living room that Steven and his band shared in their apartment. It was kind of small, but it was all that they could afford at the moment. Plus, she wasn’t judging. She lived in an even tinier apartment and could barely afford it all on her own.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Saul asked, annoyance ringing in his voice.

“Steven invited me over, okay?” she replied. “I don’t know why you are so annoyed by the fact that my friend wants to me over.”

Saul hugged and sat down on the couch. “Oh, come on! You just want in his pants because he is in a band,” he retorted.

“You know I went to high school with you too. And I was friends with him then. And what I don’t get is that you have always treated me like I’m some chick out to get you,” she argued. “I have never been anything but nice to you, and yet I’m beneath you for some reason!”

Saul looked at her as if trying to measure his reaction. “That wasn’t nice,” he pointed out.

“Well, get over it. After all these years, I feel like I have the right to chew you out over the shit that you have done to me,” Y/N shot back.

Saul started to laugh, and when she glared at him, he said, “Look, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing because you’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Shut up!” Y/N yelled.

***

After that day, Saul actually started to be nicer. Well, to an extent. He would still have his smartass responses, but Y/N had grown used to it and learned that it was just a quirk about him. What was odd was when they started to hang out without Steven around. They would be around each other more and more often and not have anyone else around.

She smiled as she sat down next to Saul as they absently watched TV. There wasn’t anything good on, but it was a rainy day and everyone else was out working at their own jobs.

“You know I still want to know why you were so mean to me,” she said.

“Uh, to be honest, I didn’t want to like the girl that was hanging around Steven,” Saul said.

“Wait! You liked me?” Y/N asked, shocked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to piss him off,” he replied.

Y/n looked at him and rolled her eyes. “So you decided to piss me off instead,” she pointed out.

It was kind of a shock to her that he was admitting this to her. There had always been an attraction to him on her part since knowing him, but she had never acted on those feelings because of how he was.

Saul laughed. “Well, I didn’t know what else to do,” he said.

“You could have just told me how you felt.” Y/N looked over at him, wondering if he was going to act out on them now. Or if he had changed his mind about her.

“Oh, and what would that have gotten me?” Saul asked her.

Y/N looked at him and decided to say screw it. She leaned into him and brushed her lips against his. “This,” she whispered.

She felt Slash smile as he kissed her back. She moved her hands to his shoulders and held herself against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue brushed across her top lip. As he grabbed onto her hips, he pulled her into his lap.

Their tongues tangled together as Y/N tugged his shirt off. They were both rubbing against each other and pulled each other’s clothes off which it didn’t take long to have them both naked. Saul moved her around to where she was underneath him on the couch.

“Saul,” she pleaded as he pulled off her panties.

He slid them of her feet and kissed his way back up her body. He gave her a few licks on her center before coming up the rest of the way. They were both so ready with no need for foreplay at that moment.

Saul had himself lined up and pushed into her deeply. They both groaned at the feel of the other, but Saul didn’t hesitate to pick up the pace. Soon he was pounding into her and causing her to get closer and closer to her orgasm.

“Saul, I’m so close,” she whined.

He groaned and pushed harder into her. “Do it, love. Cum on me,” he demanded. “Want to feel you.”

His words were what did it. She felt her orgasm lock onto him as he rode her through it all. She rocked her hips against him, trying to encourage him to orgasm as well. It didn’t take long for her to feel him spurting inside of her.

He collapsed on her, giving her a complete feel of his full weight. She could feel his pounding heart against his chest, and she panted right along with him.

She smiled and rubbed his back a little as they both calmed down.

“So you two are finally friends,” Steven asked from the front door.

Y/N gasped and buried her face in Saul’s curly hair. She felt like she was going to die of embarrassment in that exact moment. Of course, Steven had to walk in right when she was making love with Slash.

“I say we are more than friends,” Saul corrected.

ੈ✩ love island (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x reader

tw : fluff; suggestive, tiny tiny angst, jealousy love island coupling, mentions of other celebs as cast, kissing pictures

fc : Jung HoYeon

a/n : AHHH! THIS IDEA WAS IN MY HEAD FOR SOO LONG ! also did y’all really think just because s2 is here, we are going to forget the main s1 simp? She is so pretty, I can’t -

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by user1, user2 , lando and 347,387 others

loveislanduk @ lando JOINS US FOR THIS SEASON !!!!

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user1 that's it. I am dead

user2 seeing landhoe being more hoey?

user3 BRO IS DOING EVERYTHING AS A SID E HUSTLE

user4 fuck paddock, I am going on a padi vacation

user5 SHIRTLESS LANDO 25X8 !?!?

user6 does mclaren even know !?

user7 THE SAUCY CHALLENGES YALL !?

user8 so you are telling me, he is going to cheat on Carlos !?

user9 I would love to see the grid’s reaction…

user10 I can imagine max saying simply lovely

liked by user1, jennieruby, user2 and 836,297 others

sojuyn ig survival shows are my thing

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user1 MOTHER IS GOING TO LOVE ISLAND !?

user2 she went to the final of squid games, what’s this for her ? 💀

user3 I just love how her pics are serving like always

jennieruby AHHH! can't wait to see you there xooxo

liked by sojuyn

user4 Y/N, DONT SHOW YOUR SEXY SELF To others 😔

user5 can't believe we can't gatekeep the hottie anymore 😔

liked by charlesleclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,366,872 others

lando Getting that British island 💪🏻💂

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carlossainz55 can’t believe you are going there

lando you have Rebecca !!

carlossainz55 I get it Lando, no need.

maxverstappen1 simple lovely mate

georgerussell getting over the championship defeat ?

lando getting over your gay ass ?

georgerussell it’s called being a diva

mclaren we weren't informed, Lando.

lando random applications i guess 😃

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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,357,827 others

loveislanduk the first episode just premiered!

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user1 HELLO THE CAST !?

user2 so you are telling me, Lando, Jude Bellingham, hjevelyn and BRYCE HALL !?!?

user3 HOW DID BRYCE HALL SPAWN HERE !?

user4 HJEVELYN 😍😍

user5 Y/NNNN 😍😍😍😍

user6 I see admin has a favorite, already posting lando and y/n 😃

user7 Is this some sport island season !?

user8 the amount of celebs !?!?

user9 WHY DO YOU HAVE TO TORTURE ME FOR ONE WEEK BEFORE RELEASING MORE

user10 I am here for the drama

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loveisland raise your ya ya ya - heart!. The saucy challenge is only available on episode 2 🤭

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user1 the caption is killing me 🐸

user2 DID WE ALL SEE LANDO AND Y/N!?

user3 LANDO'S HEART ROSE TO 140!?

user4 IS THAT EVEN SAFE !?!?

user5 we could see jude burning eyes into lando-

user6 THE FIRST COUPLING WAS SOGOOD

user7 I think it was obvious that y/n and lando will couple up-

user8 i can sense lando-yn-jude

user9 jude was not happy when lando picked yn

user10 the face when jude had to couple with magui-

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lando hideaway 😗

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loveislanduk @ lando debriefs with the guys, before grabbing @ judebellingham for a quick chat !

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user1 lando said no one messes with my girl

user2 ngl, those two look good together

user3 we seeing a lot of bromance

user4 i feel the connection between them

user5 istg if they dump the girls and be togther -

user6 POWER COUPLE

user7 yn with the richest and handsome men after her

user8 oh to be her 😔

user9 magui is not going to like this

user10 imagine jude coupling with her next week

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loveislanduk the third episode started with drama! @ sojuyn was splashed by @ maguicorceiro for apparently lip locking her couple up @ judebellingham, @ Lando does not look much happy ! Tune in for episode 3 !!

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user1 and i-

user2 LANDO LOOKS ANGRY

user3 not kando turning into max by wearing mclaren merch-

user4 I am not even there but I can clearly see that that's not yn!!

user5 it is jude, but not with yn

user6 ITS EVELYN

user7 oh my gosh, ITS EVELYN AND JUDE!!

user8 YN IS LOYAL TO LANDO

user9 magui really wants lando

user10 just because they both are Asians -

part2...?

let me know if you want to be added or removed to the tg!

permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @nichmeddar @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx

fic tg: @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @ilivbullyingjeongin

folded ✸ jww

Cursing, overthinking, mentions of kissing, sasaengs | masterlist

📞 love GRAMs: @seokmn @wonkierideul @kissbyoon @paradiseoflosers @savemyheart101 @reiofsuns2001 @ateez-atiny380 @peraltasvibe @raintapestry @jihoonsbbygirl @fluerchive

The Song of Blackwoods & Brackens (chapter master list)

Chapters 1, 2, 3 here

Chapters 4, 5, 6 here

Chapters 7, 8, 9 here

Chapters 10, 11, 12 here

Chapters 13, 14 here (coming soon)

Chapter 15 here (coming soon)

Chapter 16 (finale) here (coming soon)

WE GOT MARRIED!

ִ ࣪𖤐 ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── choi seungcheol

SUMMARY: ── the premise of the popular reality show, "we got married," was simple: you and another celebrity would pretend to be married for two weeks, navigating various romantic and domestic challenges together. when your partner turns out to be choi seungcheol however, feelings complicate your perception of reality.

PAIRING: [choi seungcheol (s.coups) x f!reader] GENRE: [eventual smut, domestic fluff, angst, idol!au, fake dating, one bed, all the good shit]

CW: afab!reader, nicknames (angel, babygirl, baby, good girl), arguing (it’s sorted out), soft!dom ?? + pussydrunk cheol, big!dick cheol, fingering, penetration, safe sex (ofc), possessive!cheol, hair pulling, light choking

      ℘　　◌　　﹒　⠀ ꢾ꣒⠀　 ׅ⠀ㅤ　⑅

── pre-show interview:

interviewer: "thank you for joining us today! can you tell us a little about yourself and what initially made you hesitant to join 'we got married'?"

you fiddle with your hands and compose yourself into a smile.

“of course. i’m y/n, and to be honest, when i was first approached about the show, i had a lot of reservations. being an idol, my life is already under constant scrutiny, and the idea of faking a marriage on national television was daunting. i was worried about how my fans would react and whether I'd be able to genuinely connect with my on-screen partner."

interviewer: "what eventually convinced you to participate?"

you think, “it was a mix of curiosity and encouragement from my friends and management. they believed it would be a good opportunity for me to show a different side of myself, one that isn't always visible on stage. plus, the idea of experiencing something as unique as a reality show marriage was too intriguing to pass up."

interviewer: "do you know who your partner will be yet?

you smile nervously, “no, i don't. it’s a complete surprise for me. all i know is that it's someone from a well-known group. i’m really curious to find out who it is!"

interviewer: "that must be exciting! can you share what your ideal type is for the camera?”

you grin thoughtfully, “my ideal type is someone who is kind-hearted and takes care of the people around them. they should have a strong sense of responsibility but also listen and understand. a good sense of humor is a must — oh and physically, i guess i find myself drawn to someone with a warm smile and expressive eyes. someone who can be both charismatic on stage and down-to-earth in everyday life."

interviewer: "finally, do you have any worries or concerns going into the show?"

you: "i’m a bit worried about how awkward it might be at first. there’s always that initial nervousness when meeting someone new, and this situation is quite intense. i hope we can get past that quickly and have a good time together.”

—

day 1:

you stood in front of the door to a luxurious townhome, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides. this would be your new home for the next two weeks. the camera crew gave you a nod, signaling it was time to head inside. taking a deep breath, you open the door and step into the living room, where a warm, cozy ambiance greets you. as you set your bag down, you hear the sound of the front door opening again. you turn, breath caught in your throat, and a man, looking slightly familiar to you, enters the room.

he was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with dark jeans that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. his broad shoulders and well-defined chest were subtly outlined by the fabric of his shirt, hinting at the strength beneath. the open collar revealed a glimpse of his collarbones, which added an effortlessly sexy touch to his appearance and you thanked god you’d been paired with someone this attractive, as selfish as it sounded. his face was a perfect blend of boyish charm and mature masculinity and his dark hair was styled in a slightly tousled manner.

the man in front of you carried a polite smile. for a moment, you both stood there, slightly taken aback by the reality of the situation.then, as if on cue, you both bowed to each other in polite, awkward unison. "hello!" you said at the same time, voices overlapping. realizing what happened, you both laughed nervously and bowed again, this time with even more formality.

“hi, i’m y/n," you said, smiling despite your nerves.

“i’m seungcheol. it’s nice to meet you,” he said, returning your smile.

there was a brief pause as you both sized each other up, trying to gauge the other's reaction. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place it.

your heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned on you and you remembered his face from music and award shows. you were almost certain the man in front of you was a member of seventeen and your mind was almost more eased you were paired with another idol.

as you shook his hand, your mind raced with a million thoughts. should you mention that you know who he is? would it be weird? awkward?

before you could decide, seungcheol spoke again, his voice cheerful and inviting, “i know this is a bit of an odd situation, but let's make these two weeks memorable, okay?”

you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his face and your cheeks flushed slightly.

the first task was to explore the house together, finding little notes and hints left by the producers about upcoming challenges and activities. as you moved from room to room, seungcheol’s playful nature shined through. he made jokes about the odd decorations and even tried on an oversized apron in the kitchen, to which he realized how easily he could make you laugh.

in the living room, you found a note instructing you to cook your first meal together. seungcheol looked at you with genuine curiosity in his eyes. "do you cook often?"

you shook your head, “i try, but i’m not the best. how about you?”

he shrugged, “i can manage, could you hand me those eggs?”

working side by side in the kitchen, you both stumbled through the recipe, exchanging glances and giggles as you tried to make sense of the instructions. seungcheol’s presence was comforting; his easygoing demeanor made it feel less like a staged activity and you had to remind yourself of your situation every once in a while.

“careful!" you warned as he nearly knocked over a bowl of flour.

“oops," he laughed, catching it just in time. "oh my god, thanks for warning me.”

when the meal was finally ready, you both sat down at the coffee table, a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie settling in.

“you know," he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, "i have to admit, i was a bit of a fan of yours before this."

you almost spit out your food and your eyes widen in surprise, “you were?”

he nodded, a shy smirk playing on his lips. "yeah, i may or may not have listened to…a few, songs.”

you couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of disbelief, “well," you said, unable to hide the smile on your face, "i guess we both have some fangirling/fanboying to do then.”

seungcheol chuckled before taking a sip of his drink, “looks like we're off to a good start then."

later that evening, as you both settled on the couch to go over the day's events, you found yourself stealing glances at seungcheol when he wasn't looking. the cameras captured every moment, but by now, they had become background noise. seungcheol’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, his presence reassuring.

"so what did you think of our first day together?" seungcheol asked, turning to you with a gentle smile.

you smiled back, feeling more at ease now. "honestly , it was fun. a bit overwhelming at first, but i think we handled it pretty well."

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. "yeah , i think so too. it’s all about getting comfortable with each other, right?"

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "exactly."

as the night continued, the two of you talked about your experiences in the industry, sharing stories and laughing over funny moments. the more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common. it was easy to forget the cameras were even there.

—

day 5:

it had been a few days of filming and your arranged marriage with the charming seungcheol was off to an...interesting start. between the awkward getting-to-know-you interviews and staged "newlywed" activities for the cameras, you were still trying to find your footing in this bizarre situation.

one minute, you and seungcheol were bickering like an old married couple over whose turn it was to do the dishes, (it would always end with him insisting he did the chore.) the next, you'd catch him shooting you an ambiguous look from under those ridiculously long lashes, causing a fluttery feeling to erupt in your stomach. it was a constant back-and-forth of feeling flustered yet intrigued by your new husband.

today, the production crew had you and seungcheol participate in a silly pillow fight "challenge" meant to showcase your playful newlywed dynamic. what started off as an innocent, goofy bout of whacking each other with the plush objects quickly devolved into an all-out war.

giggling breathlessly, you launched another fluffy projectile at seungcheol’s head, who had now affectionately insisted you call him cheol.

he taunted with a roguish grin, deflecting your pillow attack.

you both scrambled for ammunition, whacking each other relentlessly. you shrieked as a particularly fierce blow sent you tumbling backwards onto the bed.

in a flash, seungcheol pounced - pinning your wrists above your head as he straddled your waist. his sculpted body pressed against yours, stealing your breath away.

"i win," he murmured huskily, drinking in your flushed, disheveled state. a few dark strands of hair had fallen over his forehead, making him look ridiculously pretty and you both froze as the heated tension reached a tipping point, chests heaving from the exertion of your pillow fight.

then, all at once, realization seemed to wash over both of you. this had crossed a line, strayed too far from the realm of pretend into something that felt a little too real for your comfort. seungcheol quickly released your wrists and rolled off you, running a flustered hand through his tousled hair as the cameras cut and the producers applaud your chemistry ‘played up’ for the show.

“i…sorry, i got a bit carried away there," he muttered gruffly, unable to meet your eyes.

you pushed yourself into a sitting position, clutching a pillow protectively to your chest. “no, it's...yeah, me too," you mumbled, cheeks burning.

as seungcheol swiftly excused himself, you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper and more complicated had been irrevocably awakened on your end, you watched your fake husband’s broad back retreating towards the door, then he paused and glanced over his shoulder at you.

despite the flustered awkwardness of moments before, his gaze openly raked over your disheveled form in a way that made heat lick through your veins. you clutched the pillow tighter, suddenly feeling very exposed under his molten perusal.

as quickly as the blazing look had appeared, it faded to a neutral expression once more as he gave you a brisk nod. "i’ll...see you later," he murmured in a rough rasp before ducking out of the room, leaving you flushed and wondering what the hell had just happened.

—

day 9:

the sweltering summer heat had prompted the producers to film a scene with you and seungcheol enjoying some relaxation at the rooftop pool.

you tried not to stare too openly as seungcheol stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned, sculpted torso that made your mouth go dry. rivulets of glistening water trailed tantalizing paths down those firm abs as he sank into the cool pool with a contented sigh.

“you coming in or what, y/n?" he flashed you a lopsided grin, sending your pulse into an erratic stutter.

shaking yourself free of your momentary thirst, you made a big show of daintily dipping a toe in to test the temperature, “oh my god it’s freezing.” you step out of the water onto the poolside and shiver from the contact.

cheol arches an incredulous brow at your overly dramatic reaction. then without warning, he kicked up an arched wave that splashed you squarely in the face.

you sputtered in outraged shock as he cackled at your drenched, bedraggled state. you cursed at him and then tilted your head, “oh you’re gonna get it now…”

retaliating, you cannonballed directly towards him, prompting a yelp as he tried dodging the cascading wall of water.

what started as an innocent pool dip quickly devolved into an all-out splash fight, filled with laughter and shrieks, water spraying everywhere. at one point, seungcheol grabbed you around the waist from behind, holding you flush against his chest as you squealed and squirmed playfully...

as the sun dipped low on the horizon, it set the sky ablaze with vibrant shades of orange and red bled across the heavens, intermingling with streaks of brilliant pink and lavender. the surface of the rooftop pool shimmered like liquid amber, endlessly rippling and refracting the spectacular colors above.

as the playful battle subsided, you found yourselves standing chest-deep, catching your breath. seungcheol, hair plastered to his forehead, offered you a sheepish grin. his hand, reaching out to brush a stray strand from your eye, hesitated in mid-air.

the air crackled with a sudden tension, a shift from playful banter to something more intense. you held his gaze, unsure of where this unexpected touch might lead. the playful facade, for a moment, seemed to falter, revealing a vulnerability that sent a shiver down your spine.

as the camera crew wrapped their filming of the segment momentarily, cheol leaned against the pool deck, catching his breath, while you treaded water, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“you know," seungcheol said, his voice slightly breathless, "for someone who almost drowned me with pool water ten minutes ago - you’re pretty fun to do this whole fake marriage this with.”

his compliment caught you off guard, a blush creeping up your cheeks. you looked away, fiddling with the straps of your swimsuit and snorted, “you would have survived, trust.”

you bit your lip, “but you’re not…awful, to do this with. i’m glad it was you.”

his biceps flexed as he pushed himself off the wall, the water cascading down his toned arms. he smiled and ran a hand through his hair, which was now drying in messy waves.

you had to admit to yourself, in another situation, he was pretty close to your type. your mind took a sharp turn and a thrilling image of cheol, those big arms holding you close, pinning you down. he could easily manhandle you, and the thought sent a forbidden thrill through you.

taking a deep breath, you forced your gaze away from him, the delicious heat replaced by a cold wave of reality.

—

that evening, the producers insisted that as a "newly married couple," you and seungcheol needed to share the bedroom set for an authentic experience. your heart pounded as the camera crew ushered you both into the dimly lit bedroom, pulling the covers back invitingly.

"alright you two, get nice and cozy for us!" the director called out teasingly. "we’ll get some candid footage of your first night spent in the same room together as husband and wife."

you shot seungcheol an awkward look, but he just gave you a reassuring smile as he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the cameras rolled as you climbed stiffly into bed together, maintaining a prim distance at first.

however, as soon as the crew lights winked off and you were left in intimate shadows, cheol’s touch grew bolder. his arm snaked more fully around you, hand skimming along your curves as he tugged you flush against his solid frame and he watched your face for approval.

"just go with it for the cameras," he murmured in your ear, making you shiver at the feel of his warm breath fanning your neck.

you gave a shaky nod, trying to ignore the rampant spiraling spawning low in your belly from his nearness. but as the man next to you nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a contented sigh, you felt yourself instinctively relaxing into his embrace.

before long, the camera crew was dismissing themselves, leaving you and seungcheol tangled together intimately. you started to pull away, murmuring about giving him some space, but his arms only tightened around you.

“stay," he rumbled in that deep velvety tone that made heat curl low in your belly. "please. just for tonight."

you couldn't help but overthink the situation as you lay cocooned in seungcheol’s strong arms later that night. his slow, even breathing tickled the nape of your neck as he slumbered peacefully behind you.

this whole scenario - cuddling intimately, sharing a bed, his persistent insistence that you stay - it was quickly becoming difficult for you to differentiate reality and the fake of your friendship, or whatever you could call it.

realistically, there was no way seungcheol actually had romantic feelings for you, right? you were just some virtual stranger he'd been assigned to act affectionate towards for the sake of entertainment.

no, you reasoned to yourself, cheol was simply an incredibly dedicated performer who happened to be devastatingly good-looking. he was merely playing the role of an infatuated newlywed husband exceptionally well. all those lingering looks, the electrifying touches, the way he'd pulled you insistently into his embrace - it was just him staying committed to the act. you were just a tolerable person for him to pretend to be married to for the cameras. that’s all this was. if you started projecting more meaning onto your partner’s actions, reading into lingering touches and heated glances, you'd only end up getting your hopes up and complicating things.

chewing your lip, you willed yourself not to dwell on the intimacy of your current position - pressed snugly back against his toned chest, legs tangled together, breaths mingling. it didn’t mean anything. he was just...really, really good at making this fake marriage feel real.

you lay there for a long while, keenly aware of every rise and fall of seungcheol’s chest against your back, the whisper of his warm breath fanning your nape. his arm was a solid, heated band around your waist, anchoring you to his slumbering form.

carefully, you began extracting yourself from his arms, trying not to rouse him. he made a soft grumbling sound of protest as you slipped out of bed, his arm reflexively tightening for a moment before falling away. you froze, watching him with bated breath, but he merely rolled onto his back with a gusty sigh, face relaxing back into peaceful slumber.

for a long moment, you simply stood there drinking in the sight of him - all tousled ebony hair, chiseled features, lips slightly parted as he slumbered. your heart gave a powerful thud, desperate longing temporarily overwhelming rationality.

then, you wrenched your gaze away, wrapping your arms around yourself as you crept towards the door on soft feet and went to your separate bedroom. this was for the best. putting some distance between you before things inevitably became more tangled and awkward.

—

day 12:

"you’re burning it!" seungcheol suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the pan on the stove where the sauce was starting to smoke.

by late afternoon, you were both working on preparing dinner in the kitchen. the producers had given you a complex recipe to follow, and the pressure was mounting. seungcheol was chopping vegetables while you tried to manage the stove, but things weren't going as planned.

you glanced over, feeling flustered. "i know, i know! i’m trying to fix it!"

"well, you need to do it faster! we can't serve burnt food," he retorted, his tone sharper than you expected.

you felt a surge of irritation. "why don't you come over here and do it then if you're so concerned?"

seungcheol put down the knife he was holding, his jaw tightening. "i’m just trying to help. there’s no need to get defensive."

you turn off the stove and face him, your frustration boiling over. "it feels like you're criticizing everything i’m doing. this is supposed to be fun but—“ you sigh.

seungcheol’s expression softened slightly, but he didn't back down. "i’m not trying to criticize you. i’m just stressed because i want this to turn out well. we’re both under a lot of pressure.”

his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. you felt a warmth bloom in your cheeks, a prickling awareness that transcended the confines of the tiny kitchen. it wasn't just the heat from the stove anymore; it was the sudden, electrifying tension that crackled between you.

whatever this "show marriage" was quickly becoming, it was growing increasingly difficult to remember it wasn't real.

his gaze held yours, a storm brewing in his dark eyes. was it just the stress of the competition, or was there something more? maybe it was the way his thumb brushed against yours as he reached for a spatula, a touch that lingered a beat too long. maybe it was the way his voice seemed to drop an octave whenever he spoke directly to you.

the air grew thick, the playful banter of the morning replaced by a charged silence. you weren't talking simply about cooking anymore. this felt like something more, something simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

suddenly, a loud clang from the living room shattered the spell. the cameraman had accidentally knocked over a vase, the sound breaking the intimate bubble you'd somehow created. seungcheol offered a grin of reconciliation, the tension momentarily broken.

as you both cleaned up the broken vase, a playful jab exchanged here and there, you couldn't shake the feeling that cheol’s feelings for you mirrored your own. maybe it was just wishful thinking, fueled by the close proximity and manufactured intimacy of the show. but a tiny, hopeful spark ignited within you. perhaps, just perhaps, this fake marriage could be a gateway into something else.

the air crackled with an unspoken apology after your argument in the kitchen. the rest of the day was filmed in a tense silence, punctuated only by the polite pleasantries expected for the cameras. seungcheol stole glances at you every now and then, his gaze laced with regret, but you studiously avoided his eyes.

dinner was a quiet affair, the weight of the fight hanging heavy between you. as the last crew member packed up their equipment and said their goodbyes, a heavy sigh escaped seungcheol’s lips. you remembered you only had two more days left with him before you parted ways and continued your daily, busy lives.

you lean against the doorframe of cheol’s assigned bedroom. he’s reading something foreign and doesn’t notice your presence at first. "hey," you started hesitantly, the artificiality of your fabricated married life suddenly feeling suffocating. he looked up, his eyes filled with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before.

"i shouldn't have snapped at you," he said, his voice rough. "this whole thing... the pressure, the cameras... it just — you know, gets to me sometimes.”

you understood. the world only saw the polished, perfect idols on stage, not the stress and anxieties that gnawed at them behind the scenes. partially this show felt like a risk of balance between speculation and approval. “i know," you admitted softly, surprised at the tremor in your voice. "it gets to me too."

silence settled again, but this time it wasn't tense. it was a comfortable quiet, an unspoken understanding blooming between you.

you took a seat on the mattress and asked him what he was reading.

“amour,” he says, flipping the book over to show you the cover.

“amour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "isn’t that french for love?"

cheol rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "yeah, it is. found it at the airport bookstore. it’s about a journalist who travels around france asking people about love."

a playful glint sparked in your eyes. "funny," you said, tracing the title with your finger, “didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

a wry smile tugged at the corner of seungcheol's lips. "maybe i’m just curious," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur that made you nervous. "especially after all this... 'pretend' marriage stuff." he paused, his gaze flickering from the book to your face. "maybe the line between pretending and feeling is a little more blurry than we thought."

he words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. the playful banter you'd used as a shield these past 2 weeks suddenly felt inadequate. you met his gaze, the air crackling with a new kind of tension.

"maybe it is," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

the glint in your eyes softened into something deeper, something that mirrored the sudden intensity in cheol’s gaze. he set his book down on the nightstand with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence that had descended upon the room.

he took a slow movement towards you across the bed, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your breath catch. you could practically feel the unspoken question hanging in the air, a question your heart already knew the answer to. there was a palpable tension between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer.

without another word, seungcheol closed the remaining distance between you. his hand reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. his thumb brushed against your soft skin, a gentle caress that spoke volumes. it was as if he was trying to communicate everything he felt in that simple touch, the unspoken emotions and the growing connection between you.

his eyes flickered down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, asking for permission without uttering a single word. you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, your heart pounding in your chest.

then, he leaned in. the kiss was hesitant at first, a soft exploration that tasted of unspoken longing and a newfound vulnerability. hips lips were warm and tender against yours, moving with a gentleness that made your heart ache and charged with the electricity of forbidden desire and the sweetness of a connection that transcended the cameras and the manufactured reality of your "marriage."

as the kiss deepened, seungcheol’s other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. you responded instinctively, your hands sliding up to rest on his broad shoulders. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. the kiss grew more passionate, an unspoken promise of the bond forming between you.

his fingers threaded through your hair, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. the heat of his body pressed against yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart mirroring your own. every touch, every movement was filled with a mix of tenderness and urgency, a dance of emotions that neither of you could deny any longer.

in one swift movement, seungcheol lifted you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around you securely. the sudden shift made you gasp, breaking the kiss momentarily. he took advantage of your parted lips, diving back in with a new intensity. his hand tangled in your hair, gripping it roughly as he deepened the kiss. the raw hunger in his actions satisfied a need you’d had since the moment you met him and ignited a new thirst in you for more than a kiss.

his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your jaw and neck. seungcheol’s breath was warm against your skin, each kiss sending shivers down your spine. "cheol-ie," you breathed out, your voice shaky with desire. "i’ve needed you so bad.”

he groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating through you and making your core tighten with need. "you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you babygirl,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. the nickname makes you feel weak in his arms as they roam over your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

you began to move against him, grinding your hips down on his lap. the friction elicited a deep, guttural moan from his chest, his grip on your hair tightening. his lips continued their path along your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin. each touch, each kiss, was driving you both closer to the edge.

your hands slid under his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours and see the body you’d thought about and fantasized about at the pool. his muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out another low groan. the sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you grind harder against him.

feeling the need for more, you reached for the hem of your top, and without hesitation, cheol’s hands followed suit, helping you remove the garment until it fell forgotten to the floor. his eyes drank in the sight before him, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. with a passion that matched your own, he leaned in to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, his movements urgent and commanding.

seungcheol’s hands moved to your breasts, his touch sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. his lips followed suit, trailing hot kisses down your neck and collarbone before finding their way to your exposed skin. the sensation of his warm mouth on your sensitive flesh made you gasp, a moan escaping your lips as you arched into his touch.

as he sucked and massaged your breasts with a hunger that bordered on desperation, you couldn't help but whine his name, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of desire.

his only response was a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating through you.

cheol’s hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements and matching your rhythm. the sensation of his hardness pressing against you was intoxicating, heightening the desire coursing through your veins. “i need you," he whispered hoarsely against your neck, his breath hot and heavy.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. the intensity you saw there took your breath away. "i need you too, cheol," you whispered back, your voice filled with the same raw need.

"show me," he commanded, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative tone. "show me how much you want me."

you bit your lip and your mind was urging you to shed the last remnants of clothing separating you from seungcheol’s touch. with a sense of urgency, you sat up, for just a moment to rid yourself of your pajama shorts and panties. he gently helped you slip out of the remainder of your clothes until you were completely bare in front of him.

as you returned to straddle him, seungcheol’s eyes darkened with possessiveness, his slightly dumbfounded gaze raking over your exposed form with undisguised lust. you reached for his hand, guiding it to where you needed him most.

his fingers moved in circles with a skill and reverence that bordered on worship. as he teased and caressed you with one hand, his other grabbed the back of your neck to pull you into his orbit.

"cheol," you gasped, your voice filled with need as his touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. "pl-please, want you inside of me..”

his response was a low, guttural growl, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he pressed his fingers against your throbbing center, the sensation driving you crazy, and leaned against your ear, “i know angel, i know, need to prep you.”

he slipped two long fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. you couldn't help but arch impossibly back into his touch, a high pitched moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely. his fingers curled inside you and slipped in and out, stretching you and sending waves of pleasure over you that you could feel building closer and closer to your climax.

cheol pulled your face closer to his by your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and whispered in his deep voice words of praise, “you’re so good for me.” his voice was rough in responsive to your obedience.

“such a good girl.”

the words sent a thrill through you, and your breathing that had gotten more quick by the second let all the air escape from your lungs as you completely gave in to the sensations in your body. you reached your peak screaming his name and collapsing onto the bed with your back. now on top of you, cheol guided you down from your high, and his movements became slower and more gentle until his fingers pulled out of you.

you felt his hand move to your lips, gently pressing against them. with a mix of hesitation and curiosity, you parted your lips, allowing cheol to guide his fingers inside your mouth so you could taste yourself.

“that’s it babygirl,” he said, a low groan escaping his lips. the sight of you, so willing and eager for his touch, only fueled the fire burning inside of him. he pulls his fingers from your mouth to press gentle kisses on your lips and your cheek - a sharp contrast from the intensity that had taken over him before.

as the passion of the moment continued to build, you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. seungcheol’s arousal was evident, his desire matching your own in its fervor. a surge of need washed over you, and you found yourself craving him in a way that was almost overwhelming.

desperation clawed at your insides, urging you to beg for him, to plead with him to take you in his arms and fuck you until you saw stars. but as you glanced into his eyes, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, a hint of fear lurking beneath the surface.

you reached for him, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through his pants. the intensity of his desire was palpable, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. you wanted him, needed him, in a way that bordered on obsession. but as you moved to undo his pants, you felt him hesitate, his hands shaking slightly. "i…i don’t know if i can," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with a sigh.

you whispered, your voice soft and filled with sincerity. "i want this, with you."

a flicker of relief flashed across his features, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your words. but the worry still lingered in his eyes, the fear of causing you pain evident in every line of his expression. he reached down to free his member from the confines of his sweatpants, discarding the clothing with a swift movement. as his length sprang free, you couldn't help but gasp at the sight before you. he was almost comically big, his arousal standing proudly against his abdomen, thick and pulsing with desire.

a mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through you as you watched him, desire pooling low in your belly. you couldn't help but wonder how he was going to fit inside of you, the thought sending a thrill of anticipation racing through you. seungcheol reached for his wallet on the nightstand, retrieving a condom with practiced ease and slipped it on.

cheol lifted your legs over his head, moving himself between them, a gasp escaped your lips at the sudden change in position. you felt him slowly enter you, his size stretching you in a way that was both exhilarating and slightly painful. the stretch stung, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body, but it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, filling you completely and leaving you breathless with desire.

“‘s-so big,” was all you could breathe out with awe in your voice.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he murmured with both hands holding your legs over his shoulder so he could stretch you out as much as possible. bottoming out, he studied your face for signs of discomfort and deciding he could move. as seungcheol began to thrust gently at first, you felt his movements cautious and tender, as if he were testing the waters. each slow push and pull sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, his size stretching you in ways that ignited a fire deep within.

“feels so fucking good, your perfect pussy…” he groans into your neck.

you couldn't help but vocalize how good you felt as well, “don’t stop baby, please.”

something about that nickname makes his movements became more urgent, more desperate, as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of being inside you. with each thrust, you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo. his thrusts became rougher, more dominant, as he took control of the rhythm. with a growl of desire, he reached for your throat, his grip firm but not constricting.

the sensation of his hand around your neck sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you, the combination of pleasure and pain driving you wild with desire. "who makes you feel this good?" he demanded, his voice rough with need.

you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "you," you screamed, your voice filled with rawness. "It's you, cheol."

he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, positioning you perfectly for him to take you from behind. you gasped at the sudden change in position, the feeling of vulnerability and excitement coursing through you. but before you could react, seungcheol’s hands were on you, grabbing your ass possessively as he pulled you towards him. the sensation of his grip on your flesh sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, curved for him to hit your perfect angle.

as you thought you couldn't take any more, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pulling you back towards him with a force that left you breathless. “want you to be mine..” he choked out, his words claiming you.

“‘m yours," you gasped, your voice surrendering yourself completely. with a final, desperate thrust, cheol buried himself deep inside you, sending you both hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. pleasure exploded through every nerve ending in your body as you both reached the peak together, your cries of passion mingling in the air as you rode out the waves of bliss together.

seungcheol slowly withdrew from you and as you caught your breathe, he removed the condom, discarding it thoughtfully before turning his attention back to you. his demeanor shifted, his previous intensity giving way to a tender concern. leaning in, he pressed soft kisses to your tired face, his touch gentle and reassuring. "are you okay?" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern as he traced a soothing hand along your sweaty cheek.

you nodded, a contented smile gracing your lips as you bask in the warmth of his affection.

he tenderly cleaned you with a warm, damp cloth that he quickly fetched from the bathroom, his movements gentle and careful as he ensured tour comfort. once satisfied, he disposed of the cloth and returned to your side, pulling the covers over the both of your naked bodies.

you lay in each other's arms, the quiet of the room enveloping them like a comforting embrace. the air was filled with a sense of contentment but also questions rang through your mind. unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you spoke up. "cheol, earlier... did you mean what you said?" you asked, her voice tentative yet filled with hope.

seungcheol turned to you, his gaze soft yet filled with meaning. “every word," he replied, his voice steady and sure. “if you want — then you’re mine, and i’m yours.”

your mind buzzed with uncertainty and you sigh, snuggling closer to him. the realization that your time together on the show was fleeting weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over the intimacy you had shared.

"seungcheol," you begin, switching from the nickname you’d been using. “i can’t help but wonder...after filming ends, what happens to us? we haven't known each other for long, and...” you gnawed at your lip, “what if we’re just caught in the moment?”

his expression faltered, a flicker of hurt flashing across his features at your words. he had been so certain of your connection, so confident in the depth of your feelings for each other, that your doubts came as a painful blow.

he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently cupped your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "caught in the moment?" he repeated, his voice filled with an anxiety-ridden tone you had never heard before. "is that really what you think this is?"

your chest clenched at the anguish in seungcheol’s eyes, the weight of your words settling heavily between the two of you. you hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't realized the impact your doubts would have on him.

"no, seungcheol, that's not what i meant," you hurried to explain, sitting up — your voice thick with regret. "i just... i’m scared. scared that what we have isn't enough to survive once the cameras stop rolling."

seungcheol sat up, shoulders slumped, the weight of your uncertainty pressing down on him like a boulder. "i need some time to think," he said, his voice strained. without another word, he stood up, dressed himself with the clothes he’d discarded on the floor as you protested, and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the silence.

you curled up under the covers, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt.

—

day 13:

the next morning dawned with a heavy sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. as you emerged from your room, the weight of last night’s conversation still pressed on your chest. cheol was already in the kitchen, his back turned to you as he prepared breakfast. the usual warmth and easy smiles were conspicuously absent.

"good morning," you said softly, trying to break the tension.

"morning," he replied flatly, not turning to face you. his tone was distant, a stark contrast to the intimate moments you had shared just hours before.

breakfast was a quiet affair, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. every clink of cutlery felt amplified, every glance avoided a reminder of the rift that had formed.

filming started shortly after, the crew bustling around to set up the day’s scenes. you and seungcheol went through the motions, but the chemistry that had once made your interactions effortless now felt forced. the cameras captured your strained smiles and awkward pauses, the tension between you palpable.

by the end of the day, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved tension was nearly unbearable. as the crew packed up and the lights dimmed, you felt a deep sense of despair settle in. the connection that had once felt so strong now seemed fragile.

the newly familiar routine of brushing your teeth and changing into pajamas felt strangely hollow without seungcheol’s presence by your side. as you slipped under the covers, the cool sheets seemed to amplify the emptiness of the space beside you.

—

day 14:

the next day dawned with a sense of finality, the knowledge that it was the last day of filming adding a layer of bittersweet tension to the air. you went through your morning routine mechanically, each action feeling heavy with the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions between you and your fake husband.

the filming started early, the crew bustling around to capture the last few scenes of your time together. you and seungcheol interacted politely, tension still lingering. you found yourself stealing glances at him, wishing for a moment alone to bridge the gap, but the demands of filming left little room for personal conversations. the day moved swiftly, and before you knew it, it was time for the post-show interview.

—

post-show interview:

you sat in the brightly lit room, the camera trained on you as the producer asked the final questions. the weight of the moment pressed on you, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

interviewer: "so, how do you feel now that the show is ending?”

her voice was gentle but probing.

you paused, considering your words carefully. "its been an amazing experience," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "i’ve learned so much about myself and about what i want in a relationship. and...i’ve come to care for seungcheol deeply. more than i expected."

the interviewer leaned in, sensing the depth of your emotions.

interviewer: “can you elaborate on that? how has your relationship with seungcheol evolved?"

you nodded, your heart pounding. "at first, it was just about getting to know each other, but as the days went by, i found myself feeling…a certain way about him. he’s kind, supportive, and has this way of making me feel seen and valued. i’ve realized that i fell for him and that my feelings were real.”

a pang of regret hit you, remembering your doubts and the hurt in cheol’s eyes. you wondered if you should share your feelings fully, fearing the consequences of the media. but then, you decided—if there was a chance that he would see this interview when the show aired, perhaps he would understand the depth of your feelings and know that you regretted your words.

“i’ve fallen for seungcheol," you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. "and i regret the doubts i voiced. i wish i could take them back. i hope... i hope he can see how much he means to me."

the interviewer smiled softly, sensing the raw emotion in your words and the scoop she had just gotten. “thank you for sharing that," she said gently. "it’s clear that this experience has been transformative for you."

—

the weeks after the show wrapped up were a whirlwind of activity as you dived back into your work. your agency had announced a comeback, and preparations were in full swing, leaving little time for anything else. yet, despite the hectic schedule, thoughts of seungcheol lingered in the back of your mind, a constant undercurrent to your busy days. you cherished the rare quiet moments in your dorm, where you could catch up with your girl friends or simply relax. even during these times, you found yourself checking your phone, hoping for a message from the person you longed for. as the days passed with no word, a sense of uncertainty grew, mingled with the hope that he would reach out once the show aired.

when the show finally did air, you watched your post-show interview with bated breath, wondering how seungcheol would react. the raw honesty of your confession, the vulnerability you had shown, left you feeling exposed but kept you waiting next to your phone.

then, the call came. hearing cheol’s voice, filled with emotion and understanding, was like a balm to your weary heart. his words of reconciliation and his desire to give your relationship a real chance were everything you had hoped for. the prospect of meeting him off-camera, to explore your connection without the pressures of the show, filled you with a renewed sense of excitement and somewhat worry.

the next day, you found yourself standing outside a small, cozy café, your heart racing with anticipation. the door opened, and there he was—your same old cheol, looking just as nervous and hopeful as you felt.

he smiled as he saw you, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. "hey," he said softly, stepping closer.

"hey," you replied, your voice quiet and your eyes watery.

without another word, he pulled you into a hug, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace, the familiar scent of him, it all felt right.

you both sat down, ordering drinks and talking about everything and nothing. the conversation flowed easily, the tension from the show slowly melting away as you reconnected on a deeper, more personal level.

"i’ve been thinking about you every day," he confessed, his hand reaching out to cover yours. "i want to explore this, see where it leads. no cameras, no scripts—just us."

you nodded, tears of happiness glistening in your eyes. "i want that too, cheol. i want us to have a real chance."

as seungcheol and you left the café, a small crowd had gathered outside, eager to catch a glimpse of the two of you together. camera flashes illuminated the sidewalk as fan-sites and news networks alike snapped photos, their interest palpable in the air. reporters shouted questions, their voices blending into a cacophony of speculation about your relationship.

online, netizens dissected every detail, analyzing photos and videos from the show and your recent café outing. comments and posts flooded social media platforms, with hashtags trending worldwide. the public's curiosity and excitement seemed to know no bounds as they speculated about the nature of your relationship.

cheol took to his instagram, posting a photo of the two of you holding hands outside the café with a quote from “amour,” the novel he had read previously.

— “ there will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning. “

—

end.

the heir and the wolf

summary: Being Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir is a difficult thing, but what happens when you also become one of the Realm's most prized posessions?

pairings: cregan stark x velaryon!reader, reader x platonic targs/velaryon

i. the dear daughter (2.8k) - At one-and-twenty and eight-and-ten, barely a year after their marriage, Ser Laenor Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen welcomed their first child, a daughter, into the world. The girl immediately became dear to the whole court, coddled and spoiled by all, but mostly by her grandsire, King Viserys I. The man saw in his granddaughter her mother, and as the girl grew to look like his late wife, Aemma Arryn, it became even clearer that he doted on her more than he did to his own children or his other grandchildren.

ii. about children and trouble (8.2k) - It is reported that in the year 121 AC, when the Realm’s Jewel was only six summers old, her hatchling Merrax was eaten by the Cannibal in a strange turn of events that found him moving from Dragonstone to the Dragonpit in King’s Landing. Princess Rhaenyra demanded to have the dragon’s head cut, but as nobody ever tried nor dared to get close to the Cannibal, it was impossible to do it. Thus, her daughter took the matters into her own hands.

iii. little big lady (5.0k) - Court whispers tell us that during her third pregnancy, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen was particularly sensitive. She managed to cover it up pretty well, apparently, but she had one weak spot: her daughter, her firstborn and heir, who later on witnessed her little brother Prince Joffrey's birth by request of her mother. Despite openly disliking the experience, it is said that the Realm’s Jewel insisted on being present to future labours in case things went downhill — and she did, attending her mother in giving birth to all her future children.

iv. dragons' scars (6.4k) - And after the events that happened during Lady Laena’s funeral at Driftmark, two dragons were left scarred.

v. you'll change your name or change your mind (and leave this fucked up place behind) (5.3k) - When the King’s Justice — the royal executioner — died, the Realm’s Jewel proposed a perfect replacement: Nādrēsy, her dragon, the infamous Cannibal. Even if many eyebrows were raised at the Small Council, the King hastily agreed, happy to have an excuse for keeping his granddaughter close to him, even if it was for only a few days every moon. Or, as it always ended up, for a bit more than that.

vi. but I'll know, I'll know (8.4k) - At the ripe age of ten, the Realm’s Jewel was nominated by her grandsire the King, despite all the protests of the Small Council, the official Royal Ambassador; thus, her voyages throughout the Seven Kingdoms started, and yet another nickname was forged for her by the Smallfolk: the Wandering Princess.

↳ interlude (tbd) - Blood stained sheets. The first thing that comes up to your mind? Burning them and fleeing, obviously.

vii. legitimacy (tbd) - “Vaemond Velaryon’s petition holds no sense,” it is said that the Wandering Princess reiterated once she heard of her uncle’s accusations. “My late father always recognised my brothers as his trueborn sons. Whether they look like him or the Baratheon and Arryn side of the family does not matter: they are legitimate.”

more to come!

extras:

pinterest board | spotify playlist | ao3

beautiful fanart | another beautiful fanart | yet another amazing fanart

snippet cut from chapter three

sneak peak at reader and cregan's baby number #1

memes tag

the dragons from nādrēsy's perspective

the time line

love earned, not given | never know part 2 | choi seungcheol

✨ pairing: idol!seungcheol x idol!fem!reader ✨ genre: angst ✨ summary: it's been two years since seungcheol betrayed you and two years since you saved his career. you're both struggling as you learn to forgive someone who has hurt you. ✨ read part 1 here! ✨background info: -i wanted the girl group y/n is part of to be small so i just chose blackpink LOL. the other 3 members of this group are named kiki, jia, and halle! -y/n is 4 years younger than cheol- she's dino's age. -their group (blackpink) debuted 2 years after seventeen ✨ a/n: oh my goodness yall. why is this the longest fic I've ever written in my whole life. this is my child, i'll never feel prouder of any of my other works than this one. this took 5000 years to write- to all the authors that write 10k+ fics, im dedicating this story to you bc idk how yall do it. ✨ disclaimers: you guys already know this is NOT how I see Seungcheol, how I perceive his role in svt, how I perceive his attitude towards women, and how I perceive him as an artist. he's merely just a placeholder for this story. i love cheol so so much he's such a beautiful human and I want to make you all know this story is completely fictional. I purposefully left out what he said because it is up to your imagination. if you're interested, dm me as i had originally written it in the story but decided to remove it so it doesn't distract from the plot!

The crowd cheers, deafening screams as Seungcheol waves goodbye with a huge smile on his face. 

The second the stage screen door closes, Seungcheol’s hand drops with a deep sigh. He mechanically turns to the flurry of staff who help him remove his mic pack, eyes blank and heart heavy. When they’re done, he walks away, running a hand through his hair. 

His group mates noticed the change in their leader the day it started. They don’t understand why he’s been acting the way he has been for the past 2 two years. Sure, he was acting quiet throughout all of dance practice, song recordings, music video records, and everything else they’ve needed to do in Korea but they thought he would’ve cheered up by now, especially since they're back on tour after almost 3 years.

It’s actually the opposite.

Seungcheol has gotten worse. 

He shows up to his idol work like a robot, like he's not passionate about everything he worked so hard for before.

Everyone watches him walk away, not doing much to stop him. “Alright, I’m going to force it out of him,” Jeonghan says with determination, lightly jogging to catch up with Cheol. Jeonghan eventually corners Seungcheol, and before he can get a word out, Jeonghan places a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear it, Cheol. We’ve given you your space, but we’re worried about you. At least tell me what’s going on. It’s been 2 years since you’ve turned into this zombie. You’re like a stranger to us,” Jeonghan says softly with kind eyes.

Jeonghan has been Cheol’s closest friend in the group. He knows he can trust him. But Cheol has been keeping this to himself because it would mean admitting the truth about who he is. He’s so ashamed of everything he said two years ago. He was younger and stupider, but it’s no excuse for how he hurt you. 

“Cheol, please. Please talk to me,” Jeonghan begs.

Cheol closes his eyes and hits the back of his head against the wall.

“2 years ago at the MAMA award show, I was talking with Dongmin about Y/n from Blackpink and it got super intense and I got carried away and said uh…”

Jeonghan raises his eyebrows, not sure where this is going. 

“Some really, really, really shitty things about her. I don’t feel like repeating it. Turns out she heard me because she happened to be walking in the area and to make everything worse, someone fucking recorded me and downloaded it onto a flash drive. Pledis found out before I did because a picture of the flash drive was sent to my manager. Then we found out the flash drive was given to y/n.”

Jeonghan would have never guessed that this is what’s gotten Cheol so locked up. He’s utterly surprised but stays silent and keeps his face neutral.

“I went to go see her myself, to beg for her not to make the recording go public because it would genuinely ruin me. But, do you know what she did with the flash drive instead, Han?”

Jeonghan can see the tears in Seungcheol’s eyes, hanging on to his waterline.

“She fucking destroyed it.” Cheol pauses, suddenly gasping for air as his shoulders begin shaking. “She, she- she crushed it to pieces,” he says, sobbing.

Jeonghan reaches forward but Cheol holds his hands up.

“There were no other copies; that was the only proof of what I said. And she destroyed it. She told me that I’d continue to have a successful career because no one would ever know what I’m really like. And I've been living with this guilt for years.”

Cheol takes deep breaths to control his sudden breakdown.

“Every time I get on stage, I remember that I’d have nothing if she chose to go public with that recording. She could’ve destroyed me and I would've deserved it. Sometimes I wish she did. Because I don’t deserve any of this. These fans, this career, the money, the fame, the luxury- it means nothing to me because I am a bad person. And I hurt someone. I can’t live like this. I’m swimming in guilt but don’t deserve forgiveness so what if it’s like this forever?”

Cheol can’t even look up, afraid that his longest friend would judge him for his actions.

“Cheol,” Jeonghan says gently. Seungcheol looks up with blotchy eyes. “I think you need to see her again. It’s been long enough- maybe the two of you can have a conversation- a productive one where you can show her that you’ve grown. You’re not that person anymore and you’re willing to make it right. Don’t let your guilt end your career. You were saved once. You may not be so lucky next time.”

-

The other three members of your group have no idea what you’ve been going through for the past two years. When you told Seungcheol no one would ever know about what he said, you meant it. You’ve been bottling up your pain and sadness for all this time and pouring it into your work. Blackpink has seen even more success with two new complete albums but you refuse to let yourself rest. If you’re not writing new songs or producing them, you’re choreographing dances for other younger groups. 

Seventeen’s success these past two years has also been incredible. Three new comebacks all well received. Sold out concerts all across North America and Asia. Numerous awards won. You can’t really bring yourself to be happy for them when you know just how close they were to potentially not having any of it.

Much to your dismay, your group has become closer to Seventeen, but you have made it a point to excuse yourself from going to any dinners or hangouts with any of the members of Seventeen. It’s a running joke that they don’t remember what you look like because it’s been so long since they’ve physically seen you. The only members you’re actively friends with from Seventeen are Hoshi and Vernon. When you need help with choreography ideas, you turn to Hoshi who knows just the missing piece to your routine. When you need extra input on a piece you produced, you turn to Vernon, knowing just how much his fresh perspective can complete your song. And even though they’re some of your closest friends outside your group, you refuse to confide in them about just exactly why you can’t join them for a group dinner or why you can’t go to Seungkwan’s apartment for drinks. 

Truth is, you’re afraid. You’re afraid to see Seungcheol in person because you know you’ll fall apart. So much time has passed, but it scares you that you’ll still see him in the same light. Your perception of him is permanently altered, so much so that being in the same room as him will make it difficult for you to be yourself.

On this rainy night, you’re holed up in your studio, mixing your groupmate Halle’s recording with the beats you produced the other day. 

Tomorrow, you and your group are appearing on a variety show with all of Seventeen. You tried your hardest to get out of it, making up lame excuses, trying to set up overlapping appointments and nothing worked. It was time to face the music at last. 

-

“Ughhhhhhhh, I can’t believe our call time is at 5! What the hell?” your other groupmate Kiki groans, rubbing her eyes. The four of you are all groggily standing outside the makeup room in your various pajamas, having literally rolled out of bed and into the car that brought you here. 

Your group is extremely talented and very hardworking but even after all these years, you never get used to the early mornings. You used to constantly fight over who had to get makeup done first and eventually decided that it wasn’t fair for one person to be up earlier than everyone else.  Now you all wake up at the same time and sit around and try not to fall asleep while waiting your turn. 

You love these girls so much. They’re your sisters, your family, and you’d do anything to protect them. 

Three hours later, you’re all glammed up and dressed up. After Seungcheol’s comments, you decided to no longer wear revealing outfits- choosing baggy shirts or longer skirts over the more… form-fitting stage outfits you’re used to wearing. But today, if you’re going to see him, you need him to know that his comments have not affected you and your choices. So here you are in a very sexy, according to your other groupmate Jia, matching top and pants set that shows off your lower back tattoos and skin in all the right places. 

You’d be lying if you said you were feeling 100% confident. In fact, you were sweating behind the knees- stomach churning, fingers fidgeting. 

Seventeen has already sat down into teams, and you and your group would be joining based on predetermined pairings. You’re with Hoshi and Seungkwan thankfully- two people you’re very comfortable with so everything should be okay. 

Introductions are being made as each one of you steps out from behind a curtain, dancing to one of your songs. You’re going last, so you have a lot of time to mentally hype yourself up to the fact that you are about to be in the same room as Choi Seungcheol for the next eight hours. 

“And last but not least, the leader of Blackpink. She’s not only an extremely talented rapper and singer but she’s Blackpink’s producer and choreographer. But it doesn’t stop there! She’s choreographed over fifteen ensembles for her fellow peers in K-pop! Talk about a triple threat! So let’s welcome, the one, the only, Y/N!!!!!!”

The staff, the host, your groupmates, and Seventeen cheer as you come out from the curtain smiling and waving before immediately dancing to some of the choreo from one of the songs playing. Once you reach the middle of the room, you bow and wave to the staff, host, and cameras, before doing the same to everyone you walk past to reach Hoshi and Seungkwan. You don’t look up.

-

Seungcheol keeps his face neutral when you make your appearance from behind the curtain. 

Time has been quite good to you. 

You’re even more gorgeous than when he last saw you. Your hair is much longer, your makeup light but perfect for your features. And your outfit. Damn, your outfit accentuates all the right parts of you body but Seungcheol shakes his head of these thoughts. Afterall, it is comments about your body that got him in trouble in the first place. 

Despite the pretty smile on your face, he notices your eyes are quite dull. You look… sad. He can’t imagine how you must feel being in his presence again. He knows you’ve avoided hangouts with Seventeen on purpose. In the two years since the incident, he has not seen you in person once. Your absence is a consequence of his actions. All the dinners and games and moments you could’ve spent with everyone have been flushed down the toilet on your end. Your decision to not be around him lets him know that you have not forgiven him. That you are still hurt and ashamed and betrayed by his words. 

It’s a message to him and to him only. That you will punish yourself over and over if it means being away from him. But this variety show was an obligation- something you couldn’t avoid. So he does his best to steer clear and keep his distance. 

Seungcheol doesn’t notice Jeonghan’s eyes on him, his shiny eyes meaningless to everyone else, but not to him. 

-

After a long day of filming, you head to the break room to grab a water while everyone mingles with each other. Today was quite hard. Despite the games you played with Hoshi and Seungkwan as the best people to be on a team with, you had to deal with Seungcheol talking and laughing. Your only consolation was that he was on the other side of the room and you didn’t need to interact with him.

Chugging the water, you fan yourself as you realize your body is overheating from stress. 

Turning around to head back to the filming area, you come face to face with Seungcheol.

Your face falls, and your heart sinks to your stomach. 

Face to face with him for the first time in two years, you take a long look at him. Long black hair, styled perfectly to sweep along his ears. Face still as handsome as the day he begged for your discretion with the recording. Thick eyebrows, chiseled facial features, kind eyes. He’s wearing a white baggy t-shirt that somehow hugs his thick arms. Have his arms always been that big? You shake your head of your thoughts and take a step back.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. 

“I uh wanted to talk to you,” he answers sheepishly.

You let out a small dry laugh and look away, running your hands through your hair trying to plan how you can get out of this conversation. 

“Look, I know my word doesn’t hold much to you, but I’m really sorry, Y/N. I really genuinely am. I have been beating myself up about it all this time. I don’t know why I said what I said and I can’t take it back. But I want you to know that I really want to work on making this right,” Seungcheol says all in one breath. 

Silence permeates the room again as he waits for you to say something. Anything.

“You’re wrong, you know,” you say quietly. “Your words hold a lot to me.”

Seungcheol feels the world crush at his feet. He should’ve known better. He’s been in the industry for a little longer than you have and as your senior, he should’ve known that you looked to him and the rest of Seventeen for mentorship. 

“How can I make this right?” he pleads, suddenly feeling hopeless. It’s in Seungcheol’s nature to not leave anything unresolved. He needs an answer to this. 

“Seungcheol…seeing you has reminded me of what I’ve been trying so hard to forget.” You can’t look at him when you say what you’re about to say because you know you’ll start crying. And you haven’t cried in front of him and you’re not about to start today. 

“...I can’t forgive you. That would mean accepting your words and allowing myself to brush aside my feelings.”

“Y/n, please. What can I do or say to make this right? There has to be a way.” His eyes are pleading, full of desperation and agony.

“Nothing, Seungcheol. I can’t absolve you of your guilt and I’m sorry if you thought two years would change things.”

There’s an ocean of space between the two of you. Seungcheol has been swimming to reach you but he’s drowning now.

“How do I live with this?” he asks you quietly after a long period of silence.

You look him in the eyes, surprised to see the tears sitting on his waterline. 

But you stand your ground.

“You just do.”

-

Is holding on to this anger good for you?

You ask yourself this question every day. Life has ultimately been so dreary and grey since this situation with Seungcheol happened. When you destroyed the flash drive with the recording, you thought you’d forget everything he said, but it turns out you remember everything—word for word.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel a tear hit your hand.

When will you stop crying about this? It’s been two years, for god’s sake. The pain has been endless, and it’s only hurting you over and over. And the worst part is you can’t talk to anyone about it- even your groupmates. You don’t want anyone’s perception of Seungcheol to change. 

It’s been a week since you saw Seungcheol again and if your friends thought you were a recluse before, you’re even more reserved now. It’s another long night at your studio and you’re dozing off, too lazy to go back home when you hear a soft knock on your door. 

Completely alert now, you hesitate as you walk towards the door. 

You’re not expecting anyone and you know Kiki is back home with her family, Halle is at her boyfriend’s house, and Jia is out of the country for a brand deal. No one else on your team tends to stay late on a Friday, so there’s genuinely no one you know who would want to see you. 

Apprehensive and tense, you open the door and come face to face with… Jeonghan? 

After a few awkward greetings, Jeonghan takes a seat across from you and tilts his head as if reading you. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I know what’s happened between you and Cheol,” he says with kind eyes and a small smile.

You freeze. 

“What do you know?”

“I know he said something to you that would’ve ruined his whole career if anyone found out. He won’t tell me what he said though.”

“Okay, so what do you want?”

“Y/n… in all the years I’ve known Cheol, I have never seen him like this. I don’t know what to do because no one else knows. So I’m here for a lifeline. When Cheol first told me everything, I was very disappointed. As his friend, I struggled for days about how someone I grew up with could’ve hidden this dark side of himself. It’s not really my place to forgive him or judge him because this has nothing to do with me but I’m concerned about how this is going to continue. How do you feel about all of this?”

“I feel like shit Jeonghan. I think about what he said every single day and there are times when I get sad about it and then there are times when I get so upset that I just want to strangle Seungcheol. These past two years have been hell so I don’t need you to come here and tell me how bad Seungcheol has it. I don’t care.”

Jeonghan sighs. You’re very stubborn, he’ll give you that. 

“I just think you might feel better if you talked with him longer. You let him know how upset you are and maybe the two of you can work towards forgiveness?”

“It shouldn’t be on me,” you say quietly. “You can’t come here and ask this of me just because your friend is sad. What about me? If you knew what came out of his mouth that day, you wouldn’t be here.” You will yourself not to cry again. “It is not my job to make him feel better.”

“You’re going to be sad forever, y/n. There needs to be some resolution, even if you won’t ever talk to him again. What you gave him last week wasn’t a resolution.”

Now you’re seething in anger. 

“How dare you come here and tell me to forgive your friend under the guise of it making me feel better. There was a resolution, you asshole. I told him that I’m not forgiving him,  and sometimes that’s the way life goes. It is not fair that I have to forgive Seungcheol for slut shaming me and degrading me and sexualizing me. I already did the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do! I destroyed the evidence in this very room! Seungcheol didn’t even have to beg. I did it without him asking. He should be jumping over rainbows and dancing in the stars because there’s no proof anymore that he’s a complete fucking jerk! And I won’t let you come here and beg either.”

Jeonghan watches as anger warps your face, tears stream down your cheeks. He’s been so worried about Seungcheol that he’s honestly never thought about what exactly his friend actually said to you. He’s gotten some hints from your rant just now and he finally sees you for who you are. 

Yes, you’re the Y/n. Producer, songwriter, rapper, singer, dancer, choreographer. But you’re a woman. You’re 25. Still so young. You were strong and brave for handling this whole situation with Seungcheol when you were only 23 and you’re still strong and brave now, even as you sink to the floor and bury your face in your hands, sobbing. 

Jeonghan stands up and kneels next to you, pulling you into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 

- 

In your emotional state, Jeonghan ends up driving you home, even coming inside to press ice packs to your swollen face. Neither of you says a word, not even when he tucks you into your bed. 

“Just promise me you’ll consider talking to Cheol. Give yourself an ending. You’re going to keep suffering if you don’t. And trust me, we’ve all noticed your absence at our hangouts. We’re worried about you,” Jeonghan whispers before you leave.

-

You’re not quite sure what you’re doing here. The dark clouds and strong winds feel like a premonition of what’s to come. 

Knock knock

The door opens and Seungcheol stands still with his mouth completely open- shocked that you of all people, would willingly show up at his apartment. 

“Hey, uh what are you doing here?” Seungcheol asks once he’s done gaping. 

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully with a sigh. 

“Do you want to come in? I can make you tea?” he offers sheepishly. “Sure.”

Taking off your shoes and handing your coat to Seungcheol, you apprehensively walk down the hallway deeper into the apartment. You’re greeted by a medium-sized chunky white dog who slowly walks up to you. 

“This is Kkuma,” Seungcheol says from behind you. “She’s a little shy at first but she’s very friendly, I promise.” You kneel down to be closer to Kkuma’s level and she immediately jumps into your lap, sniffing your arms before curling up into them. You lightly laugh, patting her soft head. Seungcheol is surprised. Kkuma doesn’t easily warm up to people she’s never met before. Huh.

You play with Kkuma for a bit while Seungcheol prepares some drinks. The way Kkuma is sniffing you and constantly licking your face makes you think she knows you’re sad. And even when Seungcheol returns with two mugs in his hands, Kkuma never leaves your side. 

The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch. Still an ocean between you. This time you’re both floating. The ocean is still.

Is forgiveness still on the table? 

Is forgiveness in your heart?

You know it’s not. Not completely. Not yet.

“Why did you say those things about me?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence. This is the question you’ve been asking yourself all this time. What did you do that prompted Seungcheol to have this perception of you? You’re afraid that other people think this of you. 

Seungcheol doesn’t answer right away. 

“I think I was just… talking out of my ass. I didn’t know you that well and was jealous that you had reached levels of success that we took twice as long to reach. I just wanted something to blame, to justify why you and your group were doing so much better than us. You know I’m Seventeen’s leader, but I’m one of the weaker dancers, I don’t produce music, and I can’t rap as well as the others. But you’re Blackpink’s leaders and you do all of that and more. I was undermining you to an extreme level. And I’m sorry. I really am. I know I’ve said it so many times, but really. None of our subsequent success means anything to me because I hurt you when you didn’t deserve it, and you saved me when I didn’t deserve it. 

I think about you all the time. I think about what you’ve been going through. How you hide from the world, only showing up for comebacks. How you never join your group for interviews, how you don’t join us for hangouts, how you never go on variety shows or music release parties. I hate that I’ve made you feel like you’re worth nothing, that I stripped you of all your talents and achievements and attributed them to something extremely inappropriate. I want to make this right even if it means severing our connection to each other. Even if we never speak again. Even if I never see you again. Sure, I’m sad and depressed, but I know that you probably feel even worse having to live with this secret.”

Seungcheol can’t even look at you, too ashamed as he comes to terms with his actions. 

He suddenly stands and gets down on both knees in front of you. He looks you directly in your eyes, taking your hands in his. 

“I’m sorry, I just want to make sure you know.” He holds your intertwined hands as he bows his head and cries.

You look up at the ceiling. You came here to tonight because for the first time in two years, you’ve been open to forgiveness. It is not your job or responsibility to forgive. If someone hurts you, you don’t owe them anything. Forgiveness shouldn’t be the only way to feel lighter because you remember all the nights you spent crying, throwing up, lying awake, all because of the words Seungcheol said. You owe it to your heart to be true to what you want. And in this very moment, you just want to put this all behind you. You don’t want any more sleepless nights because of this. 

There’s a man on his knees telling you he’s sorry, and for the first time, you’re ready to take it at face value. 

You squeeze Seungcheol’s hands back. 

- 

It’s 4 in the morning and you’re fast asleep on Seungcheol’s couch with Kkuma curled up on your stomach. Seungcheol emerges from the kitchen and quietly lifts Kkuma up before returning to you. He brushes some hair out of your face and softly caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

He wonders if you always look this peaceful when sleeping. 

Lifting you in his arms, Seungcheol brings you to his room, tucking you into his bed. He grabs a few pillows so he can sleep on the couch, but you grip his wrist. 

“Stay.”

I really wanted to ask if you could do like a GN! It can be fem too it doesn’t really matter—

The Reader where like Ultraman can transform bigger too but they're more inspired by Mothra (like a mothra suit). I think it would've been like so cute to see Emi go all awe and clingy to the reader because how bright and heavenly they look💕

Kenji gets all jealous seeing his kajju daughter prefer the reader over him a lil bit. tall parents raising baby monster

Emi’s Favorite

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,546

Author’s Note: Loved this idea so much, thank you for this first request! Emi with a moth mommy ⋆˚ʚɞ

MASTERLIST

Something about your boyfriend changed the night after Gigantron’s “attack” on Tokyo Dome. That night, you were supposed to help him fend the kaiju off but he insisted he’d do it on his own.

For some reason, you were glad you did not join in because (1) their fight became a pursuit in the sky, and (2) you could not zoom in the air the same way Ultraman does. The only reason you’re able to fly is because of your wings—moth wings on your suit, which would put you at a disadvantage in the case of an air chase.

You were supposed to come over to his place that night to check on him because you were sure that the skirmish had caused more damage to his already injured shoulder. However, your calls were left answered by Mina, telling you that Kenji had already fallen asleep.

Deciding not to disturb him, you simply let him be. But in the days that followed, something surely wasn’t right. He couldn’t focus on his games, he looked so fatigued and restless all the time, and oh good gracious, there were now dark circles under his eyes.

He just looks so stressed and you were so upset with the fact that he didn’t want to tell you what’s going on with him. The time he got into a fight with the other players was the end of the line for you.

You barged into his house, finding him by his bathtub, in front of a TV, watching the news about him. The usually peaceful atmosphere in his house was now charged with tension as you made your way towards him. At that moment, Kenji was praying so hard the kaiju in his basement would keep still.

He still wouldn’t tell you what’s wrong. “It’s not about us. It’s about…” he said, “…something bigger. Something I’m not ready to share yet.”

Your eyes softened at his response, though the ache in your chest remained. You made him promise to talk to you when he’s ready and he agreed. You can’t stand seeing the love of your life like that but at the same time, you didn’t want to force him to do anything against his will. Taking up Ultraman was already enough of that.

Almost two months, after the incident, he seemed back to his old shape. Better, even. And thank heavens, finally, he could now tell you about what happened.

“There’s a what below?!” You asked in disbelief. The two of you were standing in front of the elevator and for a moment, you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“A baby kaiju,” he replied and went on to explain everything. Still in disbelief, you took in everything with a nod. He placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you into the elevator.

The moment you saw the big pink baby, you gasped. Emi made happy noises as you approached. However, upon noticing you, she suddenly began to cry.

Kenji was tapping on the glass containment in an attempt to shush her. But to no avail, Emi just cried harder.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t know you yet,” Kenji apologized. “But I assure you, she’s a sweet big baby.”

Remembering how, at first, Emi only recognized Kenji when he was Ultraman, you decided to try something.

“(Y/n), what are you—“ Before Kenji finished, a soft glow enveloped you, and moments later, you emerged in your giant form. Your wings spread wide, shimmering with black patterns and warm tones of yellow and orange.

Emi’s cries slowed, her curiosity piqued by the sudden change. She opened her eyes, sobs turning to soft hiccups as she stared up at you in wonder. Her claws tapped the glass as she reached out, trying to grasp your wings.

Kenji watched in awe as Emi’s distress melted away. “I think it’s working,” he whispered.

“May I?” You asked, gesturing to the lid of the containment unit. Kenji gave a nod of approval. Carefully, you turned it before lifting it off.

You lowered yourself closer to Emi, your wings fluttering softly as she climbed up her containment. The gentle breeze they created seemed to soothe her further.

Emi let out a delighted squeal, her earlier tears forgotten. She toddled closer to you, her claws gently touching the edge of your wing. She let out a happy chirp, eyes sparkling with joy.

Kenji stepped closer, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “Wow, she loves you in this form,” he said.

You smiled down at him. “She’s just like her dad,” you replied. “She knows a good thing when she sees it.”

Kenji chuckled before he himself transformed into Ultraman. He sat beside you with Emi in between the two of you.

Your wings gently enveloped Emi in a comforting embrace. She was now calm and happy as she traced the pattern of your wings with her claw.

“Gentle, baby,” Kenji said as he rubbed her head.

She continued walking around you and playing with your wings until she tired herself out. She walked in front of you and climbed on your lap, nestling her head on your stomach.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed. You gently picked her up into your arms and gently swayed.

Kenji moved close to you, wrapping an arm around you. You nestled into his arm, head resting on the junction of his neck and shoulders. The three of you slept like that for the night.

The next morning when Emi awoke, she immediately looked for you. Realizing that the moth lady was missing, she cried. Mina was quick to assist her, playing videos of cartoons and Kenji to calm her. To Mina’s surprise, none of them worked.

“Who’s making my baby cry?” Kenji asked as he approached. He expected her crying to cease once she saw him. However, that is not the case.

“Huh?” He questioned. Emi always calms when she sees him. “Mina, try showing her pictures of (y/n).”

Mina did as told and as miraculously as yesterday, Emi stopped crying. “It seems like she got herself a new mother,” Mina commented.

With Emi’s growing fondness of you, you found yourself frequenting at Kenji’s house more than ever. She was just so cute; like a live plushie when you’re in your giant form.

“Hi babyyyy,” you cooed as you transformed into your giant form. You scooped her up, her head nuzzling against you. Her earlier play was abandoned in favor of your presence.

You walked in on Kenji and Emi playing baseball together. And you didn’t mean to interrupt but when you saw her walking towards you, you knew you had to transform.

Kenji smiled at the scene. “She really loves you, you know,” he said.

You smiled back, feeling a warm glow inside. “I love her too,” you replied. “She’s such a sweetheart.”

Emi chirped happily as she climbed up your torso and onto your shoulder where she could watch and touch your wings.

Kenji watched the interaction, his smile fading slightly as a twinge of jealousy crept in. His baby kaiju shows a different kind of joy when you’re around.

He loved Emi dearly, but lately, it seemed like she preferred your company over his. He couldn’t help but feel a bit sidelined.

“She really lights up when you’re here,” Kenji said, trying to keep his tone light.

You glanced at him, noticing the slight edge in his voice. “She lights up when you’re here too, Kenji,” you replied. “She loves you.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, but… it feels like she’s more excited to see you than me sometimes.”

You tapped the space on the floor beside you, gesturing for him to switch to Ultraman. Thankfully, he did not resist.

You moved close to him as he sat beside you, his hand finding its way to your thigh. Your head automatically rested on his shoulder.

“You’re her dad, Kenji,” you said. “She loves you so much. Maybe she’s just fascinated by my wings right now.”

You felt Kenji nod, although the jealousy still lingered within him. “Yeah, maybe,” he replied. “I just want to be enough for her.”

You leaned back to look at him. Your other hand which was not holding Emi on your shoulder, moved up to hold his face. “You are enough. You’re everything to her,” you said. “And to me.”

Emi squirmed out of your hand, gently jumping off your shoulder and landing on your lap. She toddled over to Kenji. He looked down at her, his heart melting as she reached up, wanting to be held. He picked her up, and she nuzzled against his chest, purring softly.

“See?” You asked with a smile. “She adores you.”

Kenji hugged Emi close, his jealousy fading into thin air. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”

You spent the rest of the day playing with Emi, taking turns holding her and making her laugh. By the time evening rolled around, she was content and sleepy in Kenji’s arms.

Before reverting to your original form, you kissed Emi’s head and then leaned in to kiss Kenji. “I’ll be back soon,” you said. “Take care of our little one.”

Kenji smiled, his earlier worries forgotten. “We’ll be here, waiting.”

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@scribble0rat