#//and my invitation to let you know i love them and i demand a great sum of money if you wanna ship with them?
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I'm thinking about a yandere! secretary who's an absolutely manipulative piece of shit❤️
you hired him because his resume was impeccable and you thought he'd be a perfect fit for the empty position.
which... he is.
but the fact that he's younger than you by a decent amount and can be quite unprofessional at times does throw you off. is it something younger people like doing? is it normal to visit your employee's house with no one else around?
"hey boss, I'm thinking of inviting you over to my place tonight? just the two of us? we can drink and eat fried chicken together❤️"
"my dear, that is rather unprofessional don't you think?"
"what? no of course not. you're thinking into it too much."
it doesn't help that you're sort of a people pleaser and give into his demands easily.
you just want to see all your employees be happy! is that so wrong of you? of course not! and all your other employees (excluding your secretary) all appreciate and treat you with respect. and as you know by now, your secretary is an asshole who makes use of your easily swayed personality to get you to do... things in his favour.
but you don't know that! you just think it's because of the age gap that causes you not to understand his actions and words! surely he's not trying to love you right?
"boss~ don't you think i should meet your family? your parents? you met mine the other day didn't you? oh my parents absolutely loved you! they thought you were so sweet and-"
"w-well... that's only because you got a raise and you suggested i should inform your family about how well you were performing during work... there's no reason for you to meet my-"
"boss, be serious. do you hate me?"
"no of course not! i-"
"that's settled then! we can go and meet your family after this!"
"...yes, my dear."
with that said, he's also an excellent actor and knows how to play things to his advantage. by the time you realize what's going on, you'll already be trapped in the palm of his hand.
"my dear... i am so sorry. we shouldn't have slept together, nor gotten together. it was a severe lapse in judgement and I'm sorry that i crossed the line between personal and professionalism."
"what are you talking about darling? don't worry your silly head over all that. professionalism? who needs that? all the other employees think we look great together, and your family loves me! plus, I'm your boyfriend that you love, yes?"
"i-"
"now stop speaking about stupid things. you don't have to worry about that anymore. just listen to me. it's normal to date your secretary. it's what the younger people are doing nowadays! I'm already 26! so don't worry..."
and it's not like you can just fire him either. like i said, he does an excellent job at being your secretary. also the fact that he practically controls HR and influences them into thinking every other potential employee is subpar. so when you hold a meeting about whether to fire him everyone protests against it. but that's not important.
besides, he won't let you do that. why would you want to get rid of him? you only need him don't you? he's perfect for this job! you don't need another secretary. you don't need anyone else.
just him. only him.
and you two will be happy together as long as you listen to his words and don't try getting rid of him. after all, you might be older but times are changing! you need the hand of a younger and more knowledgeable person. he'll help you bring the company to greater heights and bring in more revenue for you!
so stop talking about how it's wrong. it's not. it's the way of the new generation! and he just.. loves you very much. way too much.
#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere concept#yandere secretary#yandere secretary x reader#gn reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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take care of me.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: afab!reader, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, teasing, edging, hyunjin x reader x minho - smut, MINORS DNI
synopsis: hyunho knows how to take perfect care of you. thank you my angel @astraystayyh for giving me this idea i love you endlessly <3
you had an itemized list of reasons why having two loving partners was the best thing you possessed. the never-ending attention, always having a moderator in arguments, twice as much love than you ever thought you deserved.
it comes in the form of little notes taped to your lunch bag telling you to have a great day, gorgeous ;), in hands brushed across your back as they pass you in the hallway, in your favorite snacks always being stocked no matter how busy they are.
it comes in the form of you collapsing into hyunjin’s lap after an unbearably long day, your muscles melting into his body as you press your nose into the space between his neck and his shoulder, the scent of his cologne making your eyelashes flutter.
“one of those days?” he murmurs, tracing his nails lightly against your back in a way that makes your toes curl in pleasure.
“take care of me,” you stamp into his skin with your lips, a sigh taking over your body before you add on a please to the end of your poorly concealed demand.
“take care of you like this?” he moves his hand to run through your hair, nails scratching lightly at your scalp. you melt further into him, your body shivering with his movements.
“no,” you almost whine, wriggling your hips with the last of the energy you had left. he knows exactly what you want, he just loves teasing you, and craves the desperate little noises that he can pull from you like this.
“oh, like this then?” you can hear the smirk in his voice as both of his hands cup your ass, pulling you into him. you can feel his cock twitching in interest under your hips, and you nod fervently, thankful that he relented so easily. “alright darling, go to the bedroom and take your clothes off, i’ll be right there.”
you move with an urgency you didn’t think you had the energy for, stripping and leaving a trail of clothes in your path until you’re flopping down onto the bed. you can hear the shower running from the bathroom as you wait, and you let yourself feel a pang of longing for minho before you shake it away. it wasn’t unusual for two of you to be intimate without the other - the three of you were busy, and any room for jealousy and envy was discarded long ago in favor of respect and trust.
at any rate, you’re sure he’ll join you as soon as he is done, even if he complains about having to shower again later.
hyunjin enters the room in a flurry, dumping a selection of snacks and a water bottle on the bedside table for later. he climbs onto the bed and leans over you, dropping his head down to kiss you. you kiss him back, but when he runs his hands down your chest to cup your breasts you lose focus of it. he takes control, dipping his tongue into your mouth and nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth and you’re already feeling foggy and light-headed.
his hands roam further down, teasing at your stomach and tracing circles against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. you’re helpless under him, little sounds flooding into his mouth from your throat from his touch. he dips his fingers into your folds just as minho enters the room, a towel wrapped around his waist and his skin still damp from his shower. hyunjin releases your mouth and a wet smack echoes through the room, so lewd that it makes you flush.
“how is it that i just got here and you’re the only one who’s still wearing clothes,” he says, quirking an eyebrow up when hyunjin shoots him a lazy smile. he moves his hands back to your thighs and you whine, letting your legs fall apart in invitation. your gaze flickers back and forth between hyunjin and minho, a pout on your face as you silently plead one of them to touch you.
“awh, she’s so cute,” minho says, reaching his hand towards your chin.
“if you pet me like one of your cats,” you hiss at him, the fog clearing a bit. “i’m leaving this room-”
“must not be doing your job well enough if she’s still talking like this,” minho cuts you off sharply, looking pointedly at hyunjin who was still running his hands along your thighs absentmindedly.
“well, i was waiting for your help,” hyunjin rolls his eyes at minho. “i know you hate it when i eat dessert without you.”
the way they were talking about you, like you weren’t a living, breathing person in the room with them, sent heat sparking along your cheeks and ears. it was embarrassing, it was humiliating, it was turning you on. the fog comes back with a vengeance, clearing your vision of anything except for the two of them.
minho takes his invitation for what it is, and hyunjin moves seamlessly to the side as minho takes his spot in front of you. hyunjin curls his hand under your thigh and moves it aside aside, leaving your legs spread and your pussy spread out for them.
“look at you, all wet for us,” minho taunts, a sharp glint in his voice that betrays his emotions. “you’re only like this for us, right? no one else.”
the gentle possessiveness sends a lick of fire through your body. he knew you would never stray from them, would never even consider looking at anyone else when you had the most perfect men in your possession already, but he never got tired of being reminded of that.
“min,” you whine, embarrassed as he stares openly at your pussy, laid bare for him to feast on by hyunjin’s hands holding your legs open. you try and close your thighs together but his grip is too strong.
“shh,” he moves in close, his lips a fraction of an inch from your folds. “let me have this.”
the first touch of his lips to your clit makes you jerk, and he pulls back with a wicked grin.
“stay still, baby,” his voice is dripping with condescension even as his lips are glistening with your slick. “don’t make me work for my meal.”
he dips back in, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, and it takes every ounce of control that you have left to stop from grinding against his face. he eats you out expertly, forgoing the teasing you knew he loved and if you had any mental capabilities right now you’d be grateful. instead, all you can focus on is the rapid heat building in your core that’s threatening to explode.
wet, slick noises echo across your moans as he eats you out, spurred on by hyunjin narrating to him how good he is making you feel. you tangle your hands in his hair when you feel yourself getting close, holding him against you as your hips jerk in little motions, and he lets you use him. you come on his tongue, your walls clenching and absorbing any sounds of appreciation that he makes.
after a few moments he lets out a little hiss, and you release your white-knuckled grip on his hair with an apology waiting on your lips. he stops you before you can say anything, taking your hand in his and pressing kisses to your fingertips in reassurance.
your orgasm leaves you lax and dazed, and you watch with heavy-lidded eyes as they switch positions again. hyunjin kneels over you, his clothes finally discarded and his cock hard and leaking as he looks at you. minho sits on the bed by your head, and he runs a hand through your sweaty hair.
he’s hard too and you raise a hand towards his cock, wanting to feel the weight of it in your hand, but he stops you.
“we’re taking care of you, not the other way around,” he soothes, his words a sharp contrast to the condescending words he had thrown at you earlier. “i am thoroughly enjoying this, don’t worry.”
he tilts your head towards him to kiss the confused look off of your face just as hyunjin fucks two of his fingers into you, stretching them out. the aftershocks of your orgasm hadn’t left you yet and you can feel your walls protesting him.
“look at you, clenching around my fingers,” he says, amazement in his voice even though neither you nor minho were capable of answering him. “god, you’re so perfect, your pussy was made just for us to ruin.”
you didn’t have the words to tell him that you couldn’t stop your walls from closing down even if you wanted to; the onslaught of sensations left you incapable of controlling your own body, and it felt so good. you could taste yourself on minho’s tongue, could feel each knuckle of hyunjin’s fingers inside of you, and it was overwhelming in a dizzyingly euphoric way.
he loses his patience with his fingers quickly, stumbling in his rush to climb over you. his hair is falling over your face, shrouding you in his shadow and all you can feel is him as he runs his cock through your folds. your eyelids flutter as he presses the head of his cock into you, your mouth going slack against minho’s as you let out a sound you would surely be embarrassed about later.
minho, sending your inability to kiss him back, trails his kisses down your jaw to the side of your neck, right over your racing pulse. hyunjin bottoms out just as minho sucks, and you’re left shaking.
“relax, darling,” hyunjin pets your thighs, “i can’t move if you’re this tight around me.”
“sorry,” you gasp, the word punched out of you from minho’s teeth grazing at your skin.
“don’t apologize,” hyunjin shifts his hips back and you feel a gush of wetness leave you, helping the slide of his cock inside you. “i want to make you feel good. do you feel good?”
“yes!” you cry out when he rams back into you, immediately setting a mind-numbing pace. minutes, hours, days pass as he fucks you, filling you up perfectly in accompaniment with minho whispering into your skin about how you’re such a good girl and only for us, right?
you feel another orgasm approaching too quickly, and you try and clamp your legs to keep it away; it was too much, every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire and if you came you might actually explode in pleasure.
“baby, it’s okay,” hyunjin coos at you, draping himself across your body and tracing along your sweaty hairline with his fingertips. “you’re doing so well. you can give us one more right? just come one more time.”
“ngh,” is all that leaves your mouth when you try and answer, the dual sensation of hyunjin’s cock fucking into you and minho’s lips still sucking at your neck enough to stop any words from forming in your head.
“you’re such a good girl, just one more,” hyunjin nods, like he was making the decision for you, giving you exactly what you wanted.
you didn’t realize that minho was fisting his cock until he came against you, spilling over your stomach. the noise he makes rings right into your ear, a soft whine that was so him that it made you want to cry, and you couldn’t keep the waves of pressure back. your eyes roll back as you come with a cry, your muscles pulling taught like a bowstring as hyunjin keeps fucking you, chasing his own high. he pulls out a moment later, his hand flying across his cock until he comes with a growl, spilling over you.
he collapses by your side and you’re sandwiched between the two men, heavy panting filling the room and your heartbeat lodged in your throat. you feel good, you feel so taken care of that you couldn’t even think past the twitches of pleasure still racking through your body.
minho pulls away first and you let out a soft noise of betrayal, but he comes back just as quickly with a bottle of water pressed to your lips. he helps you drink and in your distraction hyunjin manages to clean your body free of their come. they settle back against you, fitting themselves into your sides like puzzle pieces, and you sigh in contentment.
“how do you feel?” hyunjin asks, looking at you with fond eyes and a soft smile.
“yes,” you answer, fully confident that it was the right answer to his question.
“oh, she feels good,” minho laughs, and it sounds like twinkling bells in your ear.
#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#lee know smut#straykidsland#stray kids drabbles#lee minho smut#hyunjin smut#hyunjin imagines
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Love, Lando, Milo // LN4
Lando Norris x Female Reader
Where Milo turns out to be more supportive than his dad
W. C: 2k
A/N: Milo has become a constant in my Lando fics, but since I don't see anyone complaining, I will keep on including him
MASTERLIST
The night was still. The kind of stillness that should be soothing, but instead, it felt heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back scream in protest. It was nearly impossible. Every time you thought you had it, your bladder demanded attention or a new wave of nausea rolled through you.
You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb Lando more than you already had. His breathing was steady and deep beside you, the sound normally a source of comfort. But tonight, it only highlighted how restless you were. You turned again, hoping to find that elusive comfortable spot, but it was no use.
Around 3 AM, you got up for what felt like the fifth time. You shuffled to the bathroom, your swollen feet aching with every step. After relieving yourself, you wandered into the kitchen, craving something to eat. Anything to soothe your grumbling stomach and kicking baby. You grabbed a banana and slowly made your way back to bed, hoping this time you wouldn’t disturb Lando.
But as you slipped back under the covers, Lando stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Again?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with irritation.
“Yes, again,” you snapped back, unable to contain your frustration anymore. For the past few days, Lando's been complaining about your midnight adventures around the house as his sleep schedule struggled as much as you did if not even more. At first, you didn't say anything, apologizing and closing your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. However, as the days passed you felt like your were getting lonelier by the hour and evem more responsible for your fiancé's discontent with the situation in your own home, the sleepless night and constant tossing and turning.
“I’m pregnant, Lando. It’s not like I’m enjoying this.”
“Well, I’m not getting any sleep either,” he retorted. “I need to be in top shape during the season. This lack of sleep isn’t helping. No wonder I haven't been able to get anything done for the past week. It's useless.”
His words felt like a slap in the face. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You felt overwhelmed, emotional, and incredibly vulnerable.
“You think I don’t know that?” You choked out. “You think I want to be up all night? I can’t help it! Im supposed to enjoy my pregnancy and relax as much as possible before our baby arrives! In reality, I'm feeling guilty and responsible for both mine and your inability to rest well! ”
Milo, sensing the tension and seeing your tears, started barking at Lando, tugging on the leg of his sweatpants as if to say, “You upset mom! Fix it!”
“Great, now I’ve upset the dog too,” Lando muttered, but his anger was already dissipating, replaced by guilt. He looked at you, seeing the tears streaming down your face, and his heart broke a little.
You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You grabbed a blanket and headed to the spare bedroom, which was soon to be the baby's room. You moved as quickly as possible, your belly preventing you from moving with your usual pace. The room was quiet, and the rocking chair near one of the windows looked inviting. You opened the window next to you to let some fresh air inside the room. You settled into the fluffy cushions on the chair, pulling the blanket around you. Seconds later, Milo trotted into the room after you. He lifted himself onto his back legs, his front paws supporting his weight against the upholstery of the chair.
You lifted the little man onto your lap, smiling as he snuggled against your belly as if he knew you needed comfort.
''There hasn't been a day during which I've regretted your arrival into our lives, my tiny love." You said as you caressed the soft fur between his floppy ears. Milo's cold nose occasionally bumped against the palm of your hand as he sniffed around.
The tears flowed freely down the cold surface of your face, silent and hot in contrast. You stroked Milo's fur, the rhythmic motion helping to calm you down. The rocking chair creaked softly as you rocked back and forth. The movement seemed to help soothe your loud inner voice that kept producing negative thoughts one after another.
Some time passed, and you weren't sure how long. The door creaked open, and you saw Lando standing there, his expression mixed with regret and sadness.
“Baby, ” he whispered, stepping into the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…I'm stressed. But that’s no excuse.”
You looked up at him, the tears still glistening in your eyes. “I’m trying, Lando. This isn’t easy for me either.”
He knelt beside the chair, taking your hand in his. “I know, love. I know. I’m an idiot. I should be more understanding. Please come back to bed. You need your sleep. We'll solve this in the morning, okay?”
You nodded, wiping your tears. “Just… don’t forget we’re in this together, okay?”
He leaned in and kissed you, soft and gentle, his lips lingering on yours. “I promise. Come back to bed? We can figure this out together.”
You stood up slowly, Milo jumping down to the floor. Lando wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you back to your bedroom. The bed felt warm and inviting, and as you settled back in, Lando pulled you close as much as your protruding belly allowed him.
Milo jumped onto the bed, curling up at your feet where he usually spent his nights. Lando kissed your forehead, his hand resting on your growing belly.
“Goodnight, baby. I love you” he whispered.
“Goodnight,love you too.” You replied, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you as sleepiness began to take over your tired body.
The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You woke up feeling a bit more rested, your body still aching, but your heart felt a little lighter.
Lando was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“Morning,” you replied, smiling back. Milo stretched out beside you, having moved up on the bed during the night , now wagging his tail lazily.
“How are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern etched in his eyes.
“Tired, but better,” you admitted. “Thank you for coming to get me last night.”
“I’ll always come for you.” He said, his voice full of sincerity. “We’ll get through this together.”
You spent the morning in bed, talking and laughing, enjoying the calm before the chaos of the day. Milo provided endless entertainment, his antics making you both laugh.
That evening, after a long day of preparing the nursery and spending quality time together, you were exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft surface of the pillow. Lando stayed up a little longer as his mind kept wandering.
He looked over at you, your face serene in sleep, and his heart swelled with love. He gently placed his hand on your belly, feeling the slight movements of your growing baby.
“Hey, little one,” he whispered softly, not wanting to wake you. “I know I need to be better for your mom. She’s doing so much already, and I need to support her more. She needs her sleep, and I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”
Milo tilted his head, watching Lando with curious eyes before settling back down. Lando chuckled softly, patting Milo’s head.
“We’re a team,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your mom, Milo, and me. We’re going to be a great team, and we’ll always be here for you. I promise to be better.”
He leaned in and kissed your belly, then your forehead, before settling down beside you. Milo snuggled up at your feet, the three of you finally finding a moment of peace.
As you slept, you felt Lando’s hand still resting on your belly, his presence a comforting anchor. The journey ahead might be filled with challenges, but with Lando’s love and support, you felt ready to take on the journey of being a parent.
MASTERLIST
Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#formula 1 fandom#formula 1 fic#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#lando norris f1#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris angst#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 angst#angst#fluff#lando norris masterlist#formula 1 masterlist
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Royal Sacrifice | S.JY
prince!jake x maid!fem reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, heartbreak, my attempt to write posh-ish, anti-monarchy vibes throughout, mentions of violence, petnames (my love, sweetheart), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.1k synopsis: your secret relationship with prince jaeyun is all you could have dreamed of, however, you're rudely awakened when your lover tells you some devastating news.
part 2 a/n: surprise! you're all sick of me i know, but i wanted to post this before it sat in my drafts too long and i overthought to the point of never posting it </3 i changed up my writing style a little to fit the aesthetic of it all and idk if it worked but enjoy anyway! also, this is for the people asking me to post more jake <3
"Tonight demands nothing short of perfection from each and every one of you. Not a single mishap or slip-up will be tolerated. Should I catch so much as a hair or button out of place, rest assured, I will personally request your head." The Chamberlain's voice, firm and commanding, spreads through the grand corridor, her gaze penetrating the maids and footmen.
As she paced back and forth, the bright torch cast a soft glow against the polished marble floors, illuminating the intricate patterns etched into its surface. Each uniform was meticulously inspected, and every seam and crease was subjected to intense scrutiny. The weight of the impending event hung heavy in the air, thick with anticipation.
Tonight, within the confines of the castle walls, the royals and social elite would congregate for the year's largest gala. It was an exhibit of greatness, with the chosen guests flaunting their rank and power.
For the last seven months, you have wandered the castle's hallways as an insignificant maid to the Royal family of Glengyre. Your hands were battered from hours of labour and your spirit dwindled to the hardships of the job, but you had to do it.
You weren’t exactly invited into the castle, in fact, you had snuck your way in through the war tunnels underneath and begged the head housekeeper, Miss Son, to place you on her team.
Being born into a working-class household, you were all too familiar with the misery of poverty. With your parents absent and your siblings relying on your meagre earnings from the bakery, you carried the burden of duty from an early age. Survival had been your main priority, with every move controlled by the never-ending search for food and security; this was the job you needed.
Once you convinced Miss Son to give you a position, you were mindful to keep a low profile, sticking to your duties and never causing trouble. You dare not even breathe too loud next to the monarchy, each of them vicious and gruel in their own ways.
Yet amidst the icy family, there existed one beacon of warmth and compassion - Prince Jaeyun, the only heir to the throne.
He was the kindest man you had ever met, his values and ideals so drastically different from his fathers; all he ever wanted was peace and equality for the kingdom of Glengyre. His opinions echoed your own, his vision for the kingdom a testament to his noble character.
Everyone adored him, captivated by those puppy dog eyes and his wide, wholesome smile. Jaeyun had a magnetic charm that drew people to him effortlessly.
And yet, amidst the throngs of admirers, he reserved his heart only for you.
Jaeyun was familiar with all the staff, each face and name etched into his memory. So, when you suddenly appeared to clean the Library, he took immediate notice of you.
“I don’t believe we have met,” Jaeyun bows his head slightly to you, causing confusion to spread over your face. Men of his status shouldn’t be talking to you, let alone show you this level of respect, “Has The Chamberlain begun to hire new staff for that god-awful ball already?” he chuckles.
You’re transfixed by his question and his beauty, it’s not every day a Prince speaks to you, let alone so casually.
With this being your first job at such a level, you don’t know what to do. Typically, all maids get training and lessons on how to approach any member of the Royal Court, however, due to the nature of your employment, that part was skipped.
Jaeyun raises a brow, “Miss, are you alright? You look dreadfully pale,” he shows concern for you, even when he has no need to.
Quickly, you bow, “I am so sorry, Your Highness. I-I have been here for a while. Perhaps I have just blended into the background,” you offer as an explanation.
“A woman as beautiful as you could never blend in with this dreary decor” he smiles, holding out his hand, “Can I push you for your name?”
He waits expectantly, his palm outstretched as it waits for you to place your delicate hand into his. You didn’t need training to know you should never touch a member of the Royal Family, so you stay stagnant.
Noticing your apprehension, Jaeyun smiles and reaches his hand down to grab yours. You don’t want to say you felt a spark as soon as his hand graced yours but between you both, you could easily power up the castle generators.
He feels it too, the pull you had on him has been cemented by this moment, “I’m Prince Jaeyun,” leaning down he kisses your knuckles, maintaining eye contact with you as he does so.
The Prince is mesmerising.
“Y/N, Your Highness. My name is Y/N,” your voice is wavering as your body is shaken by his act. You aren’t scared of him, you’re just shocked by his kindness.
“Y/N…a name as breathtaking as its owner.”
Since that day, Jaeyun hasn’t left your side, his presence constant as he finds any excuse to be in the room you’re working in, his conversations tailored to draw out your thoughts and passions.
To him, your background was irrelevant; he saw the depth of your character and your mind's brilliance. Every exchange deepened his admiration for you, weaving an unbreakable bond between you both.
Secret notes and clandestine meetings became the norm, each encounter is a stolen moment of shared laughter and intimate conversation. Jaeyun was captivated by your wisdom and fascinated by your unique perspective on the world.
In your second month at the castle, on the moonlit balcony of his bed chambers, he kissed you, declaring his love for you in the same breath. From that moment on, he was not just a prince but your prince, devoted entirely to you.
The Chamberlain gives you all one final check before sending you out, her excitement palpable as she practically squeals, "Places everyone, this is a big night!"
As far as you and the rest of your team are concerned, tonight is just another ball, one hosted nearly every month. But The Chamberlain's demeanour suggests otherwise - someone vastly important must be attending. The air crackles with anticipation, and whispers ripple through the servant ranks, speculating on the identity of the esteemed guest.
As you all fall into line at the entrance, you wait for the party to begin.
The sight of everyone's extravagant gowns and suits is awe-inspiring. Each guest seems to sparkle, adorned in riches that could feed your family for years. It serves as a striking reminder of the kingdom's vast disparities. Meanwhile, the servants stand in their modest uniforms, hardly visible amid the sea of finery.
It irks you to know that these people, who all have some power in ruling your home, could not care less about the people within it.
“You two, come with me,” The Chamberlain beckons you and the girl beside you to follow her, snapping her fingers as she hurries you along to the kitchen.
With little instruction, she thrusts a tray full of champagne into your hands. “Once empty, you come right back. I do not want to see one moment where you are not serving some form of beverage. Understood?”
“Yes, Madam Chamberlain,” you both say in unison as you bow and make your way to the Great Hall. The palace is now teeming with people from all corners of the kingdom, the room resonating with laughter and chatter. You'd find it enjoyable if you deemed any of these people tolerable. Drinks disappear and reappear from your silver tray, and not a single word of gratitude is uttered.
Finally, the Royal family enters the hall, with the King standing strongly at the front and his Queen elegantly alongside him, their presence commanding attention as they survey the gathering with royal poise, looking for the most important person in the room beside themselves.
However, Jaeyun is not like the others. Amidst the pomp and its beauty, his sight is drawn to a person considerably less notable.
In an instant, his attention falls on you, a delicate smile gracing his lips as he lifts his brow in discrete acknowledgement, a silent greeting in a noisy environment. The difficulties of being in a secret relationship with someone so far above your social status weigh hard; even in the same area, being seen with Jaeyun is a luxury you cannot afford.
Excusing himself from his family, he greets people on his way over to you, captivating the whole room as he does so. To everyone else, he appears to be merely working the room, exchanging pleasantries with ease, but you, standing in quiet anticipation, know better.
In that moment, it's as if the entire hall fades away, leaving only you and Jaeyun in your own private world. He moves closer, each step filled with purpose, each smile and gesture meant only for you.
As he approaches, his every move exudes royalty. It’s impossible to deny that Jaeyun was born to be king.
"Can I take one of these to lighten your workload?” Jaeyun asks with a playful glint in his eyes, already reaching for a flute of champagne.
You dip your head in a respectful curtsy, mindful not to spill the drinks as you balance the tray precariously. Miss Son's strict instructions echo in your mind - no engaging with royalty at events, let your body speak for your tongue.
But sometimes, Jaeyun takes that directive too literally.
“Thank you, Y/N,” Jaeyun says, his voice low and intimate. You hear a collective sigh from some nearby girls, their attention momentarily diverted from their own conversations to admire the Prince and his effortless charm.
Walking to stand next to you, his arm brushes yours as he looks in the opposite direction to you, he whispers just loud enough for you to hear, “Should I tell them I’m happily taken or would you like to put them in their place after hours?” his tone is laced with playful mischief.
“I would much rather occupy my time after hours with someone else,” you reply with a smirk, keeping your head facing forward to maintain composure.
You can't see it, but you feel the shift in Jaeyun's expression, a flicker of excitement, a hint of anticipation. His eyes dart briefly to yours, a silent exchange of mischief passing between you.
“Well, tell him he’s the luckiest man in the world,” Jaeyun responds, his voice tinged with amusement.
“Doesn’t he already know that?” you retort, a lively glint dancing in your eyes.
Jaeyun's hand lightly grazes your back, “Believe me, he will never forget,” he says wistfully as he turns away, seamlessly slipping back into his role of mingling with the guests. The lingering warmth of his touch leaves you breathless, your heart pounding with excitement at the thought that despite the separation now, he will be tangled in your body and soul later on.
The rowdy girls behind you giggle, their voices rising over the bustle of the hall as they discuss the Prince's past escapades with their cousins and sisters, whispering about how they hope they could spend just one night with him.
Jaeyun's reputation spread beyond the castle gates. He was renowned as a charming playboy, a Casanova whose dalliances sparked chatter across the kingdom. Every week, a new maiden appeared, talking about their alleged "hot affair" with the heir. It was enough to make anyone apprehensive, and you were no different. You maintained your guard up at first, rejecting his advances, refusing to become just another conquest in his succession of women.
But the more you spoke with him, as you shared moments and secrets in the quiet corners of the palace, you came to realise that the instant flurry of admiration you felt was not one-sided. Jaeyun's heart beats for you and you alone.
You discovered in him a love that went beyond gossip and whispers, a love based on trust and understanding. With that realisation, your reservations vanished, replaced by a deep assurance that Jaeyun was yours, and you were his, now and forever - or for as long as you could keep this illicit affair going.
The bell sounds, its loud chime cutting through the murmurs and whispers of the gathered guests, signalling you and the others to proceed to the main door of the castle.
"May I please introduce King James and Queen Elizabeth of the Lethamhill Kingdom, and their daughter, Princess Mia," the Master of Ceremonies declares, his voice full of power.
The announcement strikes like a thunderbolt, bringing the audience to a profound silence. Nobody had expected the arrival of the Royals of Lethamhill and the astonishment is evident as you look around to see a sea of stunned faces. Whispers spread like wildfire across the crowd as each visitor grapples with the implications of this unexpected situation.
Lethamhill and Glengyre are currently involved in delicate discussions about the possible unification of the kingdoms, a topic of enormous political importance. According to what Jaeyun has told you, these conversations have been stressful, with no definite agreement reached so far. The presence of the Lethamhill Royals at this gathering signifies a historic point between the two kingdoms.
The struggle between the two kingdoms has caused irreparable destruction, including starvation, poverty, sickness, and a staggering loss of life. It would take something genuinely extraordinary for both parties to put aside their differences and work together in peace.
Your eyes meet Jaeyun’s across the room, and you can see the fury simmering beneath the surface of his composed facade at the sudden intrusion. Yet, even as anger flashes in his eyes, you can sense the weight of responsibility pressing down on him.
No one knows quite how to react to this unexpected turn of events, each guest grappling with their own thoughts and fears as they await the next move from the Lethamhills.
“Please, do not stop on our account, continue the festivities,” King James proclaims, his voice carrying a jovial tone, a vibrant smile gracing his features.
As the party continues and dinner is served, guests settle into their assigned seats, laughter and conversation filling the air as they merrily drink the castle dry. Surprisingly, the presence of the Lethamhill Royals doesn't disrupt the flow of the event, instead, it seems to enhance it. Many see this as a reconciliation party now, eagerly awaiting the announcement that could potentially solidify peace between the two kingdoms.
Your role for the evening is clear: shut up and stand to the side, only interacting if called upon. It's undoubtedly the most tedious part of the night. Being on your feet for hours on end, catering to the whims of the guests is exhausting enough but enduring the occasional push or intentional spillage of drinks on your uniform from some of the more unruly guests adds insult to injury.
The other worst part of the evening was the sight of Princess Mia draped all over your lover, her hands roaming possessively over his chest and arms as if they were hers to claim. Each touch felt like a dagger to your heart, stirring a tumultuous mix of jealousy and hurt within you.
Jaeyun attempted to gently remove her, pushing her away with as much politeness as he could but she stubbornly refused to listen. Occasionally, his eyes would flicker to you with a sympathy, silently communicating his regret at the situation and how you must be feeling. He would never wish for you to be hurt.
Telepathically, you reassure him that it's okay, that you understand and trust him implicitly. After all, it's not his fault that another woman - a tall, beautiful, rich, and powerful woman at that - feels entitled to touch him. His efforts to remove himself from the situation already speak volumes, and you take some solace in his unwavering loyalty.
But despite your attempts to rationalise, the bitterness lingers, a bitter pill that's difficult to swallow.
Standing on the sidelines affords you the opportunity to observe the dynamics of the entire top table, not just Jaeyun. The Kings engage in whispered conversations and the Queens gossip amongst themselves. It's as if no blood had ever been shed between their kingdoms.
The casual camaraderie displayed by those responsible for the devastating conflicts between their kingdoms makes you sick to your stomach. How can they be so chummy, so nonchalant, when their irresponsible fighting has caused so much pain and suffering to countless lives? It's a reminder of the callousness of those in power, their indifference to the consequences of their actions leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
Suddenly, you see your King rise and tap Jaeyun on the shoulder, ushering him into an undisclosed location. The urgency of the gesture sends a ripple of apprehension through you, and you can only presume that he is finally letting Jaeyun in on the reason for the Lethamhills' unexpected presence.
“Why do you suppose they are here, Y/N?” Heejin, the girl to your right, asks in a hushed breath, her voice tinged with concern.
“I can’t say for certain, but I fear it won’t be for the champagne and escalope,” you reply, turning to face her, your expression mirroring her worry.
And when Jaeyun re-enters the hall, you know that your apprehension was not unfounded. His face is devoid of the charismatic expression he had worn for most of the night.
The king wears a stern expression, clearly unamused with whatever his son has to say in rebuttal to his conversation.
Something is deeply wrong
You scream at him with your eyes, silently urging him to look at you, but he doesn't, his gaze fixed straight ahead. It's clear that whatever transpired in that conversation has deeply unsettled him, and you ache to know what happened.
“Excuse me, Miss Son, but may I please go to the lavatory?” you ask your head maid, hoping to slip away unnoticed. Her disdainful scoff is the only response, urging you to return quickly.
With a bow of gratitude, you glide towards the exit, silently willing Jaeyun to notice your movements and follow you. Your eyes briefly meet his, and he nods, understanding your need for a private conversation.
You arrive at your usual secret spot - the Council Chamber - a place where every decision is made and policies are signed. It's a room steeped in history and power, but also secrecy and intimacy. Old men come here to dictate the fate of the kingdom they supposedly love.
Jaeyun recommended this particular room as a defiant ‘fuck you’ against societal norms of hierarchy and privilege. It's ironic, considering he's made love to you on every surface of the place, turning his statement from metaphorical to literal.
Tracing your fingers over the spine of the old book laid on the desk, the door swings open suddenly, causing your heart to race with surprise. You quickly straighten up, trying to compose yourself as Jaeyun strides into the room.
“Did I frighten you, my love?” he asks softly, a hint of amusement in his voice as he approaches you.
You shake your head, “No, not at all,” you say trying to ease yourself, straightening your uniform and brushing the dust off your front. He always laughed when you tidied yourself for his presence, a habit when you’re faced with Royalty. You’re hardly unacquainted, the portraits hanging on the room walls can testify to that.
Finally reaching you, Jaeyun's hands find their way to your hips as he traps you between him and the oak desk. His eyes glance behind you to see what you were looking at, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Ah, the old laws that have kept this country from falling apart. To be lived and breathed by,” Jaeyun's voice carries a mix of sarcasm and despair.
“Laws that keep the rich rich and the poor poor,” you respond bitterly, your thoughts drifting back to your family and friends struggling back home.
Jaeyun's hands move up to your back, offering a reassuring rub. “I hate it too, Y/N,” he admits, his heart heavy with the weight of his people's suffering under his father's rule. He hugs you tighter, a silent reassurance of his solidarity and commitment to change, commitment to you.
Leaning back, he strokes your face adoringly with his middle finger, “You look so delicate tonight,” his voice conveying his love for you. Even dressed in rags, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.
“More delicate than Princess Mia?” You don’t mean it to come across as bitter, yet, it does.
Jaeyun shakes his head disapprovingly, a tiny glint of amusement in his eyes, “My darling love, are you jealous?”
“She is ravishing,” you reply. Princess Mia is everything you are not, it wouldn’t be misplaced for you to be slightly envious of her. You know the Princess could have anyone she desires, and if circumstances were different in which Jaeyun wasn’t hopelessly in love with you, she could probably have him too. That information would unsettle any lover to know.
Jaeyun places a feather-light kiss on your forehead, “She doesn’t hold a flame to your light, Y/N,” he says with such genuine love that you might believe him if you weren’t clad in a spilt-on uniform and tired eyes that reflect the brutality of being a measly servant.
But Jaeyun would never see you that way.
His lips swoop down to yours, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss, planting his deal of assurance on your lips. The way his mouth is melting into your own is enough to make your knees lose their strength. Jaeyun’s thumb rubs your hips tenderly as he deepens the kiss, trying to make the taste of you last the rest of the night.
Pulling back for a breath, you recollect yourself, smiling at him happily but as you gaze into his eyes you see something sorrowful hiding behind him. It wasn’t until this moment you forgot why you even snuck away to see him in the first place.
“The King seemed displeased,” you state the obvious, hoping he will enlighten you somewhat to the reason for the private discussion.
“He is an idiot, nothing more,” he spits back, eyes avoiding yours as if he’s scared of you suddenly. You have never seen him so angry yet sullen.
Reaching your cold palm to his warm cheek, you begin to pry further, “Jaeyun-”
Your query is cut short by his lips once again enveloping yours, the intensity of his kiss a silent plea for you to cease your questioning. It's unlike Jaeyun to keep secrets from you; usually, even the most classified information finds its way past his lips and into your ears. So naturally, his reluctance to share the details of his conversation with the King sets off alarm bells in your mind.
But as his touches grow more insistent, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your neck and his fingers daringly inching up your skirt, your thoughts become increasingly muddled. It's difficult to focus on anything other than the intoxicating sensation of his tongue against yours, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.
You hate that he won’t confide in you, that he's keeping you in the dark about something so significant. Yet, at this moment, you find yourself unable - and unwilling - to complain. Not when every touch, every caress, sends sparks of desire coursing through your veins.
“Jaeyun, I don’t have time,” you manage to groan out amidst a wave of pleasure, the urgency of the situation gnawing at the back of your mind. Miss Son could come looking for you at any moment, and you've already pushed your luck by leaving your duties unattended. There's simply no way you can disappear for long enough to satisfy Jaeyun's desires.
But he seems determined to ignore your protests, his fervour only intensifying as he continues to explore every inch of your body. In this stolen moment of passion, time seems to stand still, the outside world fading into insignificance as you lose yourself in the intoxicating embrace of your forbidden.
With each caress, each whispered endearment, you feel yourself falling deeper under his spell, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his affection.
But as much as you crave the blissfulness of his embrace, a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you of the consequences of your actions. You can't afford to be caught in such a compromising position, not when the stakes are so high and the dangers so real. Just down the hallway is a room full of people who would kill either of you for this affair.
"Jaeyun, we can't," you finally manage to gasp out, your voice tinged with desperation as you push against his chest, trying to put some distance between you. "Someone could walk in at any moment."
For a fleeting moment, Jaeyun's passion seems to falter, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. But then, with a determined glint in his eyes, he pulls you closer, his lips claiming yours in a desperate kiss.
"I don't care," he whispers against your lips, his voice husky with desire. "I need you, Y/N. Now more than ever."
The tone of his voice dings your attention, it’s pleading and needy which would be normal if his words didn’t waver, lip quivering slightly. The conversation with his father had affected him more than you know, and he dared not confess what it was regarding.
With a sense of urgency in his veins, Jaeyun hoists you onto the desk, his hands promptly pushing your skirt up and yanking down your underwear, revealing your core to him in all its delicious glory. His breath stops in his throat at the sight, and his need for you becomes stronger than ever.
He licks his lips hungrily, wishing he could taste you, savouring the wetness that gleams between your thighs like morning dew. He wants to drink you in and lose himself in your folds.
But time is not on his side, he knows this, nonetheless, the throbbing between his thighs, the thumping want for release, is too strong to ignore. He was so desperate for you to suck in his cock with your heat, he didn’t think he had the restraint to wait for it any longer.
His need for you is mirrored in your face and body as you edge yourself closer to the end of the desk, spreading your legs as he undoes his ivory dress trousers and lets his shaft spring free of its constraint.
“Can I please?” he asks softly but with urgency, the tip of his member already primed to enter you, the question just a matter of formality at this point.
“Please, Jaeyun, have me,” you whisper into his mouth and with a low groan of need, Jaeyun surrenders to his instincts, his desire overwhelming as he slips inside you with effortless ease. No matter how many times he makes love to you, the sensation of being so intimately connected to you never fails to amaze him. It's as if you were made perfectly for each other, two souls destined to intertwine. He thanks God every day for bringing you to his side.
His thrusts are pointed, to make this quick while also giving you both the release you desperately needed. Your tight pussy grasps every inch of him deliciously, accommodating his size yet giving him just enough resistance to squeeze the tip of his cock.
Gripping his shoulders tightly, you anchor yourself to him as he picks up the pace, his movements becoming more frantic with each passing moment. You moan loudly through your bitten lips, trying your hardest to stay quiet; he was pounding into you so good you just can’t help the noises leaving your mouth, completely rending you dumb to his touch.
The sound of your gasps and mewls fills the air, a symphony of pleasure that drives Jaeyun wild with desire. Each cry, each whimper, only serves to fuel his drive, pushing him further into the depths of ecstasy as he loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together as one.
Arching your back leaves the nape of your neck exposed, inviting Jaeyun to sink into it with his teeth, easily leaving a red mark. It’s the first time he has ever done something like this, to leave physical marks on your body that aren’t the bruises from his tight grip; those were easy to hide, but this one wouldn’t be.
“Ah, Jaeyun, what are you doing?” your bated breath whisps past his ear yet he doesn’t hear you, lost in the feeling of fucking you silly. He sucks and licks at the base of your throat, possessed by his need to claim you as his.
“My love,” he brings his face up to lock your eyes together once more, his cock hammering into you still with force, “Tell me you'll be mine forever," he begs, his words hanging in the air between you like an urgent vow. The intensity of his stare and the sheer emotion in his speech leave you breathless, your heart racing in your chest as you try to find the words to answer.
Tears fill his lashline, and his eyes are unexpectedly vulnerable. In that moment, you can see the depth of his love for you and also his sudden fear that he might lose you. The sudden change in emotion takes you by surprise, your Jaeyun who is usually confident and strong in moments like this is now yearning for confirmation of your love.
"Yes, Jaeyun," you say, your voice barely audible as you completely yield to him, "I'll be yours forever,” It’s a truthful answer, the only one who you can see yourself being with for the rest of your life, long or short, is him. Your Prince Jaeyun.
He shakes his head and screws his eyes shut, seemingly shaking his internal thoughts out of his brain to make way for your reassuring ones. “I can’t lose you, my love. I can’t…I won’t,” he rambles, the rhythm of his thrusts depleting, signifying that he’s close to the edge.
To distract him from his inner monologue, you cradle his face, kissing all over his lips and cheeks. If you can do one thing for him, it’s to instil in him the fact that you will always be his love, until death do you part.
“Y/N, my sweet love,” he whispers sadly, “Don’t let me go,” his plea is muffled by his lips kissing your palms.
You have no idea what could cause this sudden cast of doubt in his mind.
Jaeyun’s right hand moves to your sensitive nub, circling it with his thumb as he tries to coax you to completion. His hips buck sloppily, overwhelmed with the raw emotion and need to cum inside of you.
The bubbling heat between your tummy and pussy consumes you, the climax Jaeyun has worked so hard out of you finally spilling over his shaft and down yourself. Your legs shake violently as he continues to rub your clit in earnest.
The way your body contracts and walls clench around him also sends him to the brink, his seed filling you up quickly, each spurt dripping down your canal and onto your inner garments. The Prince keeps himself stuffed inside you as he pants, unsure of when he will finally be done.
Resting his head on your shoulder, he breathes out softly, trying to calm his panting and heart rate down. He knows he shouldn’t have asked you to stay with him forever, to promise to love him for eternity, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to hear it almost more than he needed to find his release.
With a final kiss on your lips, he removes himself from you, retrieving his handkerchief from his pocket to catch the cum falling from you. While he does so, you can see his mind shouting so loud you could almost hear it, or maybe it was just because you are both so attuned to one another.
You have to find out what is happening and why he is acting so strangely.
As Jaeyun tucks himself back in and discards his handkerchief, you watch him closely, your heart heavy with concern. There's a weight in the air, a silent tension that hangs between you like a thick fog, and you can't help but feel the ache of his unspoken fears.
Jumping off the desk, you fix your underwear and approach him slowly, your movements deliberate as you reach out to straighten his jacket. Your touch is gentle, “Please, Jaeyun,” you implore softly, your voice barely a whisper as you search his eyes for answers, "Let me in. What are your worries?"
But Jaeyun remains silent, his gaze averted as he avoids your questioning eyes. You can see the pain etched into every line of his face, the fear and uncertainty that threaten to consume him whole. And yet, he can't bring himself to speak the words that weigh so heavily on his soul, scared that if he does. It’ll all be too real.
You can sense his hesitation, his reluctance to confront the truth that lies buried deep within him. But you refuse to give up, determined to stand by his side no matter what challenges may come your way.
Gently, you place a hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet yours as you speak from the depths of your heart. "Jaeyun," you whisper, your voice filled with love and understanding. "You don't have to face this alone. Whatever it is, we'll face it together. I promise."
“That’s just the thing, Y/N,” he begins, voice trembling, “the King has put me in a predicament I cannot get out of,” he leans into your touch, craving your comfort.
Tilting your head, you stroke your thumb over the flushed apple of his cheeks, “What are you talking about?” you ask nervously.
Swallowing the thickness of his turmoil, he speaks lowly, “He has arranged my marriage to Princess Mia of Lethamhill.”
As Jaeyun reveals the truth of his arranged marriage to Princess Mia of Lethamhill, a heavy silence descends upon the room. Your heart sinks at the revelation, a knot of pain and disappointment tightening in your chest. This isn't the news you wanted to hear, the realisation crashing down on you like a wave of icy water.
"Oh..." The word escapes your lips, your mind reeling with the implications of Jaeyun's confession. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the knowledge that your secret love is soon belong to another, bound by duty and obligation.
Retracting your hand from his face, you take a step back, the distance between you a painful reminder of the barriers between you. But before you can retreat any further, Jaeyun reaches out to stop you, his eyes pleading for your understanding.
“My beautiful girl, I told him no,” he implores desperately, hoping you don’t think that he didn’t fight against this preposterous idea, “How could I ever marry her when my true love is already by my side?”
His words offer you a sense of relief, however, you know the King wouldn’t let him away with a simple ‘no’ in regards to this marriage, “I surmise he did not take it well?”
"Of course, he didn't," Jaeyun's voice is bitter and cold, his body tensing as he recalls the conversation with his father. "If I do not marry her, the proposed treaty between our kingdoms will be broken, and there will be conflict."
He was the glue to bond the kingdoms, it was all on him to marry this woman he didn’t know in the name of unification. He is being used as a pawn in this game of power and manipulation and it makes you wonder whether Princess Mia is also going through the same distress, although, with how she was groping Jaeyun earlier, you doubt it.
“A conflict, you mean a war?” you dare ask.
He nods shallowly, remorse etched in his features, “And our King has made it perfectly clear that I will be on the front line.”
Your heart shatters into a million pieces, the pain of it like a dagger to your chest. How could the King do this to Jaeyun, to offer him up as a sacrificial lamb in a game of politics and manipulation? It's cruel, it's unjust, and it's utterly heartbreaking.
"Your father cannot do that," you say slowly, your mind reeling with the enormity of the situation. "It's... it's unthinkable."
But Jaeyun shakes his head, his expression filled with bitterness and resentment. "That man is no father of mine," he declares, his voice filled with anger and defiance.
Opposite to his anger is your sadness, eyes leaking salty tears at the thought of losing your love. No matter the choice Jaeyun makes, he will never be yours. That is something you should have known from the beginning of your relationship.
You and him can never live in love or peace, it will always end in heartache and loss.
The Prince sees your sobs and pulls you in, circling his arms around you tightly, “My love, please don’t shed tears, I hate to see you cry like this.” he mutters into your hair, kissing the crown of your head gently.
But how could you not cry? You’ve just in this instant lost the love of your life.
The room is so silent all you can hear is the raucous laughter and music echoing from the grand hall. It gives you the opportunity to think about how the war would pause all laughter for every citizen of Glengyre, how the only sound you will hear is guns and screams of those desperately seeking escape and safety. You cannot allow that to happen.
“Marry her.”
“Excuse me?” Jaeyun pulls away, disgusted that you would even dream of proposing such an idea. He was yours and only yours, he wouldn’t even dream of lying with another.
You know that you must make him see reason, that there may be no other choice if you are to prevent the looming catastrophe that threatens to tear your world apart.
"It is the only noble thing to do, Jaeyun," you insist, your voice trembling with emotion, "We cannot allow our love to stand in the way of peace, of saving those people from the horrors of war. If marrying Princess Mia is what it takes to prevent bloodshed, then it is a sacrifice we must make.”
He doesn’t register your words, only hearing his heartbreak at the thought of you not being by his side, “But I will lose you, it will be impossible to be together if I marry her,” he begs you with his eyes to change your mind.
“You will lose me either way, Jaeyun,” you release yourself from his grasp, taking a step back to create the inevitable distance that is about to become your reality, “The people of this kingdom need you, Jaeyun. You are the only one that can make a difference to those less fortunate,” you begin, your eyes locked onto him as you portray the seriousness of your words, “If you go to war then there is a certainty you will die and you are no use to the cause of change if you are dead.”
The words get stuck in your throat, the idea of uttering such horror makes you feel sick to your stomach but the lives of hundreds must take priority over your love, no matter how painful.
"But-" he begins, his voice tinged with desperation.
"You cannot be selfish, Jaeyun," you interrupt firmly, your gaze unwavering as you meet his eyes. "I couldn't look at you the same if you sacrificed the welfare of our people for the sake of our love."
The truth of your words lands heavily between you, a painful reminder of the sacrifices that must be made in the name of duty and honour. And though your heart may ache with the prospect of losing him, you know that it is a sacrifice you must be willing to make.
Jaeyun ponders your words, recognising that you are correct: his people are his primary concern. He wishes he could do more to keep your relationship alive, to make you his Queen. As he stands before you, staring at you with loving eyes, he wishes you were the ruler of Glengyre, for your qualities and ideals already shine as if you are.
Suddenly, the bellow of your name echoes the castle halls, Miss Son shouting erratically to find you. It brings Jaeyun to realise that his fantasies of you being his queen are just that - fantasies.
Clasping your face in his big hands, he shakes his head, signifying his defiance to the idea but succumbing to his duties, accepting this fate, “I will always love you, and I will do everything in my power to make it back to you. Even if it’s in another lifetime,” he whispers the words onto your face, sealing them with a final kiss, his tongue now craving to remember you for a lifetime, rather than just a night.
You curtly nod, trying to bottle the emotions you are feeling, scared that if even one drop overflows, you will take back everything you have just said, sacrificing the people you love for the man you love. You could never win in this situation, and neither could Jaeyun.
“I love you too, my sweetheart,” you confess for the last time.
Miss Son’s footprints are right outside the door, putting your own feet into action as you leave Jaeyun to return to your post as a maid, the delusions that you could ever be with Jaeyun for a lifetime are crumbling away with each patter of your feet on the marble floor.
“Ah, there you are! What on earth are you doing in the Council Chamber?” she shouts at you while still being mindful of the guests only a hallway away.
You bow, offering no explanation and slip back into your role, smoothing yourself down to seem presentable. The togetherness of your exterior is the complete opposite of the shattering of your interior, your heart shattered in fragments as you stand back, overlooking the people you made an eternal sacrifice for. And none of them would ever care. The promise you made to love Jaeyun forever is the only peace of your heart left in place.
Jaeyun comes back into the hall a few moments later, poised and stoic, the only change in his face is when he looks at his father with an angry glare and a nod to follow, much to the delight of the King.
Abruptly, the King stands, “Ladies and Gentlemen, my esteemed guests. I have some exciting news to share!”
#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen angst#enha angst#enhypen fluff#jake smut#jake sim smut#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#sim jaeyun smut#aj writes
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𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕:
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𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒊 𝑹𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐
"I can't fucking believe you" Your boyfriend shook his head incredulously and you sunk further into your seat with your arms across your chest. "Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?"
"It was an accident" You whispered softly staring at the red stop light in front of you too afraid to look at Rin. It had been a gang party. You were invited because you'd been with Haitani for almost three years now and the members trusted you enough to let you into their little circle. You had wanted to impress them because you knew how much they meant to Rin.
That's the reason you had accepted drink after drink that each of his friends had poured for you. Not wanting to seem uncool or uncomfortable. You had obviously gotten drunk. Haitani had seen you tipsy multiple times but you were never the type to get truly wasted. Which is why when you were dancing so completely out of rhythm and screaming his name at the top of your lungs he had grabbed you thrown you over his shoulder and took you to the car. You had sobered up some as the apartment you shared was on the other end of the city and took awhile.
"An Accident?" He scoffed and his hands clenched on the steering wheel as he glared "I can't believe I agreed to take you there. I thought you would have at least tried to behave yourself. God how can you be so careless? "
"Rin my head is fuzzy okay. Can we please, please just do this at home" You sighed tiredly rubbing your temples.
"Are you fucking kidding? No we're talking about it now. If you can't own up to your idiotic fucking actions-"
"Stop the car" You demanded. Furious.
"Are you going to be sick? Oh fucking great" He pulled over on the side of a main road and you yanked off your seat belt and got out of the car.
"I know I messed up but it doesn't give you the right to talk to me like that. You don't always have to be such a condescending asshole." You shut the door in his stunned face and turned to start walking away.
"Y/n! Y/n! fuck. Come on!" He drove the car next to you slowly and you turned to glance around. The road was empty almost deserted. The window of the car was wide open and you glanced at Haitanis pleading look but you were petty and so you continued walking.
"Baby get in the car please. I'm sorry I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. I'm sorry sweetheart . It's dark and you're not fully sober yet so can you just get in for me please. " He said gently
"No. I don't want to talk to you right now" You muttered shivering. It was freezing. Haitani watched helplessly as you trembled.
"Honey as we've established I am in fact an asshole. I'm sorry. I won't talk to you okay? Just get in and I'll take us home. Please. "
"I don't want to go home. Take me to Yuki. I'll sleep there tonight. I don't want to burden you and I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to wake up to throw up. She'll take care of me" You mentioned your best friend and he shut his eyes angry with himself because he wasn't the one you wanted to comfort you at this moment.
"I can take care of you." He flinched at your harsh gaze "Alright I'll take you to Yuki. I promise" You sighed but got in the car quietly and he blasted the heat warming you up instantly.
"Love" He started but you turned to look out the window.
"You hurt my feelings Haitani" You mumbled sadly feeling teary eyed.
"I know and I never meant to. I'm sorry sweetheart. I don't even care about the dancing or the yelling or whatever but you don't ever drink that much and I was worried and I guess I took it out on you" He said squeezing the steering wheel.
"I'm sorry"
"Don't apologize. You should be able to have fun without me treating you like a child. I don't mean to be overbearing or rude. And I would never want to hurt you" He mumbled sadly and you watched as he pulled in front of Yukis house.
"You're really gonna let me spend the night here?" He hated when you slept away from him and would complain about it all the time.
"I don't want you to. I want you in our bed tonight where I can watch over you but if you feel like that's not what you want I won't stop you. I fucked up but I love you and I want you to know I'll be here first thing in the morning to pick you up and take you home" He leaned in to link your fingers and brought you hand to his mouth kissing your palm. Something you usually would do when you were trying to win him over.
"Can we just go home now" You whispered tiredly.
"You want to stay with me tonight?" Hope glittered in his eyes
"I want to stay with you forever" You leaned in to kiss him and both his hands held your face. "Don't talk to me like that again"
"Never" He agreed pressing a kiss to your forehead.
****************
𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊 𝑴𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒚𝒂
"Hey honey" You muttered as you jumped into the passanger seat of your boyfriends car tiredly.
"Hey" He muttered angrily pulling out of the parking lot rather aggressively.
"Woah. What happened?" You asked nervously as he hit the gas.
"Why would you think something happened?" He said through a clenched jaw and you turned your head incredulously.
"Oh I don't know maybe it's the way you're clenching the steering wheel and have your foot flat on the accelerator. Slow down!" You gripped the dashboard and turned to glare at him "What the hell is going on?"
He just continued swerving through traffic ignoring you until finally he had to pull up at a red light "You have some fucking nerve" He muttered .
"What are you talking about?" You glared at him but he just ignored you. "Screw this. Stop the car right now"
He pulled over at the side of road ready to rip you a new one but before he could say anything you unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car not caring that it was raining. He hit the steering wheel in frustrated anger and sighed before storming out after you.
"Get in the car!" He yelled as you began to walk away. The both of you were getting soaked to the bone but he didn't care. He grabbed you around the waist and tugged you towards the car.
"Let me go!" You fought in his arms and he swore under his breath "Let me go asshole!"
"What the fuck" He hissed as you bit his hand and he let you go. You turned around furiously and even though he was fuming he couldn't help but stare at you in awe. Your eyes were shining your clothes and hair completely drenched and you were shaking in Fury. Goddess on earth he thought.
"What is your problem?" You breathed
"Did you tell people in your class that you've been wanting to break up with me for fucking months but was scared I'd hurt you?" He couldn't hide the crack in his voice.
"What?" You breathed. Confused
"If you want to break up with me then do it but you know. ..You have to know.. I would never-" He was cut off when you threw yourself into his arms wrapped your legs around his waist and you arms tightly around his shoulders.
"You idiot" You cried against his chest.
Confused but wanting nothing more than to comfort you he ran a hand down your damp hair and back. "Huh"
"You know better than anyone not to listen to the things people say. I love you” you mumbled
He stared at you utterly in love “Fuck baby. I love you. I’m sorry”
“Idiot”
You both grinned at each other. Soaked to the bone but desperately happy
#headcanons#rindou haitani#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya x y/n#mitsuya fluff#rindou x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo rev fluff
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Hey boo boo bear imagine this kook rafe x shy pouge reader get stuck in a room together…… they have sex. I don't know how to plot this😭
Rafe only tolerates reader in his sister group since reader is shy and quiet and because she's a good baker and cooker since he eats the food reader makes for Sarah (the reader doesn't know obviously)❤️❤️❤️ plz make it super smutty
Escape Room
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), spanking, spitting, use of belt, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), choking, (let me know if I missed any)
Wc: 2.9K
A/N: This was just a great idea and I literally loved writing it.
“He said he would be there in fifteen minutes to pick up the brownies. Thank you again so much.” Sarah rushes out her words feeling bad that Rafe was already late. “It’s okay not like my job is super demanding anyway. I just sit here and watch the cameras. Plus it’s slow and no one has reservations.” Working at an escape room has its perks. You get to sit back and relax, watching as people try to figure out the puzzles.
“Okay. Again I’m so sorry he’s late. Let me know if he was a dick after he leaves.” Sarah says before hanging up the call. Rafe was supposed to be here two hours ago and he is still not here. Sarah had asked you to make her brownies from the pool party she was having when she invited you. Sadly you had work but still had agreed to make them.
You’ve been making desserts and dinners for her since middle school. It started when you made some pasta dishes with your mom. You had brought some extra to school the next day and she had tried it at lunch. She fell in love with it and promised you to always save her extra when you cook. Even when you too went to different High schools she didn’t let that stop her.
She would ride her bike to your house all the way in the cut after school to try some new dishes. It was a little routine the two of you enjoyed. Then you started to make extra of every dish and dessert to bring to Tanny Hill. Everyone in the house loved your cooking and baking. Even the eldest Cameron sibling couldn’t find himself to hate it. No matter how hard his brain told him not to eat your dirt pogue food he still does.
He guesses over time his disdain for pogues dissipated only for you. He found himself excited to try a new dish or eat your famous cookies when Sarah brought them home. When Sarah had asked him to pick up at first he was really willing to get them. Accepting the chance to get close to you without having her around. Then he realized he would actually have to be around you without a buffer.
Rafe decided that the longer he waits to pick up the brownies then maybe the less time you have to take to him. That’s why he told Sarah he would be there in fifteen all while he was still on the course playing golf with Topper and Kelce.
Another forty minutes pass and he is still not here. The last group of people leave the alien invasion room. Sighing you get up and start to clean up the room. This is the one downside of everything, you have to clean the whole things up. Resetting every clue is a hassle in itself, not to mention people make messes on purpose. You were so busy trying to put one of the clues together that you didn’t hear someone calling out for you.
Rafe walks around calling out your name to find you. “Where are you? I just need the brownies and then I’ll be gone.” He sees one of the doors open and a figure lurking around. Getting closer he can see that it’s you so he walks into the doorway. “Hey! Can I get them now?” You turn around to see Rafe, clutching your chest at the scare that he gave you.
He goes to walk further into the room and bumps into the door holder making it fly out of place. “Don’t let the-” The door slams shut due to the weight of it, it’s slam echoing in the room. “Door close.” Rafe turns around to open it. “God, it's not a huge deal.” The door handle shakes but it doesn’t budge.
“Why isn’t it opening?” There’s a twinge of irritation in his voice. Whipping around to look at you he finds you sitting down on one of the seats. Like clock work the automatic voice booms through the speakers.
“Welcome brave fighters. The Aliens have attacked and you are our only hope of fighting them. In exactly one hour they will take over the world and destroy it. This bunker contains the key to saving the world. Find it before time runs out or we are all doomed. Good luck.”
Just like that the clock above the door turns on and the seconds start to count down. “What the fuck is happening?” Rafe is rattling the door trying to pry it off the hinges. “It’s an automatic system. Once the door closes the game starts and you can’t get out.” You are willing to let the time run out already texting your boss to tell them you got locked in a room.
This wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. At least those times weren’t you and there was someone else to open the door. It’s just your luck that today of all days you are the only one working. Your boss texts you back without being any help.
Well I’m on vacation right now. I’ll text the group chat to see who can come get you out. You might just have to solve it or wait it out.
“Who the fuck thought that was a good idea?” You laugh at him and go over to the first clue, solving it and getting the key out of the box. “It’s an escape room dumbass. It’s kinda the whole point. Plus everyone here knows not to close the door, that’s why the block was there.” Rafe closes his eyes as he realizes the thing his foot accidently hit was the only thing holding the door back.
“I didn’t know sorry.” Your back is turned to you as you are finding the keyhole on the table that opens it. Rafe watches in awe as the table top clicks open and you lock it into place. Sarah has always said that they should all come here to try one out and he brushed it off when they actually made plans. He thought these types of things were stupid but now that he’s seeing you do it just makes him think it’s him who's stupid.
There would be no way that he would figure any of this out. He knows that you know how to do all of the clues due to having to set them up. But damn how would anyone be able to figure that out? Walking closer he can see that the table opens up into a map of the world and each country is out of order. You just set each one perfectly in place and a trap door opens on the far side of the wall.
“Didn’t realize you were so smart for a pogue?” You roll your eyes at him and push past him to go to the other room. “How long will it take you to figure this all out? I don’t have all day.” It is funny that he would say that considering he made you wait on him for most of the day. “That’s rich coming from you.” You get into the room and look at the fake control panel that’s in it. This is the one part of this room you take forever to fix.
You can’t remember which switches control which thing. They all work in some way but only four of them cause the map to light up for the next clue. “What upset that I have a life and you don’t? I had shit to do, you aren’t important.” The laugh you let out is like you are mocking him and he hates it. “I could give two shits that you were late. Wouldn’t expect anything less from you. All you care about is yourself.”
“That’s not true.” If he thought that other laugh was annoying this one makes his blood boil. “You are literally the most selfish person I know. You’re rude, arrogant, and honestly a disgusting person. I would rather be stuck in a room with a million spiders then feel you breathing down my neck.” You didn’t realize how close you had gotten to him. All up close and personal to him.
“I’m literally trying to figure all of this out so we can get out of her and you didn't even offer to help. All you can do is sit there on you ass like a fucking child.” Rafe’s anger gets the best of him and he wraps a hand around your neck. “Careful there. Don’t get on my bad side. You’re lucky I even tolerate you.” His fingers tighten a little bit, the blood flow slowing slightly. “If this is you tolerating me then maybe you should get fucking checked. There is obviously something wrong with you.”
The room gets quiet and all that can be heard is his heavy breathing. His chest is brushing against yours with each breath. Your eyes flicker back and forth looking into the blue eyes you’ve known for years. Without a second thought his lips are crashing onto yours. You meet his enthusiasm, kiss him just as hard.
His other hand wraps around your hair tugging it to manipulate your head to deepen the kiss. Walking backwards you bump into the counsel, buttons digging into you as he lifts you to sit on it. “So much tough talk and look at you now.” The way he looks at you is belittling as if you aren’t a real person.
“Do you always have to be so annoying?” He smiles at you and dives back in to kiss you. Hands roam your body and squeeze the flesh under his palms. The kiss gets more intense as he nips at your lips. You let out a wince pulling back. Lifting a hand to touch your lip and feel the warmth seeping from the cut. “Are you serious?” Rafe smiles all cocky at you, feeling good that you were in pain.
The smirk didn’t last because you delivered a smack across his face. He slowly turns his head back, shocked by the action. “Oh you’re going to regret that.” He kisses you again, ignoring your wince of pain and biting your lip even harder. The hands roaming your body move in between the two of you so he can unbutton your pants. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as you lift yourself up, helping him take your pants off.
His right thumb starts to stroke you over your panties, feeling how wet you are. “Look at how wet you are. Shy little girl who’s actually just a slut in disguise.” You moan at the words and the feeling of his thumb rubbing you just right. The fabric makes it feel even better. Your hands reach towards his belt and unbuckles it. His pants and boxers are shoved down his legs.
“Can you just shut up and fuck me already. Starting to think that you keep talking just to stall.” Your hand wraps around his dick and starts stroking. The tilt of your head does him in. He grabs your face and pinches your cheeks together. “Don’t worry baby, just giving you some more time with your thoughts before I scramble them.” Without warning he pushes your panties to the side and thrusts into you.
The moan you let out is like a taste of heaven. The sweetest sound that he’s ever heard. His pace is brutal, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. In his head he’s thought about this before. This exact moment has played out in different ways in his dreams. In those he takes his time with you, stretching you out with his fingers and eating you out until his face is covered in you. That was always a part of his vision yet here he is skipping all of it.
It’s like there is something about you that clouds his thoughts and sense of morality. He can’t seem to keep his cool around you or to stop himself from being him. His grip on your cheeks get tighter, his hips snapping into you. He keeps watching your face as your eyes roll back.
If he wasn’t holding your face then you would have fallen backwards. As if he heard your thoughts he pushes you backwards, your back hurts from the keys. You know that tomorrow there will be marks left from them. His other arm wraps around your back lifting your hips in the air. From this angle he’s hitting deeper and getting your g-spot in the best way.
He’s holding you in a position to give himself the best form of pleasure and yet you are getting it too. At first he really didn’t care if you enjoyed it, only wanting to teach you a lesson. That mindset faded away just by looking at you. This was better than what he had imagined and he couldn’t be happier. He lifts you back up and pulls out, flipping you to lay over the counsel.
Lights flicker as some buttons are pushed from your hands slamming down to catch yourself. Rafe kneels down behind you and attaches his lips to your clit. Your head drops down to rest on your forearm. “Oh fuck that feels good.” Rafe hums at the taste of you, shaking his head slightly side to side. He stays there for a few minutes bringing you to the very edge of your orgasm before stopping.
Pulling back his hands play with your ass, his eyes catching the glint from his belt buckle. An idea pops into his head. Picking up the belt he folds it in half, dragging it up your leg as he stands up. “What are you doing?” You turn your head to look at him and see him smirking down at you. Without saying anything to you he lifts up the belt and smacks your ass with it. You let out a yelp from the stinging sensation.
He does it once again, your yelps morphing into moans. The pain is dull or maybe you are just too focused on the way he’s kissing up your spine. His other hand grips himself, lining his dick back up to your entrance. Teeth dig into the side of your neck as he sinks into your soaked pussy. Your eyes pinch shut, mouth wide open as he keeps thrusting in.
You are enveloped in pleasure, so much so that all of your senses seem to disappear. Your ears are ringing, eyes watering from pleasure, all you can feel is him all around you and something cool around your neck. Opening your eyes was like a wake up call. You can feel the smooth leather moving around your skin as he loops it through the buckle. Lifting a hand to touch your neck confirms it all.
He put the belt around your neck.
Rafe wraps his hand with the excess leather, keeping a tight grip on it. He yanks a little on it to tighten it. Not enough to fully choke you but enough to make it pleasurable. He gives it another tug when he realizes you like it, causing your back to arch. Your head is practically touching his shoulder now. He moves a hand up your body to grab your face, turning it to look at him.
Once your eyes are staring back at it he speaks. “Open your mouth.” You don’t know why he even told you anything, he used his grip to pry it open anyway. Rafe spits into your open mouth, kissing you immediately after. His thrusts are increasing in pace, slamming into your hips. The familiar feeling of your orgasm washes over you, making your body convulse. Your moans are loud, tearing through your throat.
Rafe helps you through your orgasm before pulling out and stroking himself, cumming all over your ass. “Oh fuck. You look so pretty like this, covered in my cum. All fucked out because of me.” He’s mesmerized as he plays with his cum, scooping it with his fingers he brings it to your mouth. On instinct you lick them clean, moaning at the taste of him.
The sounds of a buzzing noise scares the two of you away from the moment. “The aliens have succeeded in their plan to overrun the world. Better luck next time.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment and mutually decide to just get dressed. Rafe’s eyes move to your neck as you remove the belt. It’s a bit red but he’s mostly focused on the teeth indents left.
He has a smug look on his face as you both get dressed that continues once you give him the brownies. Thank god no one was in the lobby waiting to do a room because you don’t know what you would have done if there was. You couldn’t even look Rafe in the eyes after what just happened. If he thought you were shy before then this was a new level.
Just as he was about to leave he turned back around. You are staring at the floor watching his feet to see when it’s safe to look back up. When they don’t move you reluctantly look up at him. “I might have to come back here. Never knew being locked in a room could be so fun.” With that he walks out leaving you there shell shocked.
He’s right, being locked in a room could be fun.
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#obx#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#outer banks smut#drew starkey smut
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The Ol switcharoo (pt4)
Stan x reader/ ford x reader
Summary: You journey into stanfords mind for the sake of the shack when you learn more than you probably should have
Warning: none Look, I'm trying to lay down more romance. The stakes are gonna get raised soon. We can't keep tiptoeing guys
Also sorry if it feels a little choppy and all over the place
Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~
Stanford had been distant a lot more than you would like to have admitted over the past few weeks. Sure, you'd get the kids together, and all of you would hang out and have your own little adventures, but more often than not, you couldn't find him before you followed your new adopted great niece and nephew out the door for the next great adventure or activity for the summer.
You loved going out with them, taking them to lunch, or to shop Dipper even more recently, inviting you to monster hunt again. But when you weren't invited and the kids went on their own journey, you found the house was only quiet.
In the what seemed to be rare and far in-between days stan was with the three of you, you felt a great wave of peace wash over you. The four of you laughing in the car after narrowly escaping one of stans crazy ideas, sitting with him on the back porch, watching the kids run around.
You felt a buzz inside you when you sat next to him, watching him laugh at dippers water balloon hitting the ground without a pop. You loved your routine with him before the kids arrived. It seemed like that was becoming all you knew.
But the shack felt different with laughter filling it up. And if you realized it or not, those two kids were bringing you closer to Stanford when he hung around. You took a deep breath and scooted in closer to Stanford, his arm instinctively wrapped around the back of the couch, letting you fill as much space next to him as you wished.
"I can't believe this is my life now. I don't know what i did to deserve this." He said, looking down at you as you now watched the twins in the yard. "Everything happens for a reason, remember?"
"I guess so." His hand fell softly onto your shoulder, snuggling you closer. "Look out!" You and Stanford both jumped up as one of the water balloons landed where you were once sitting.
"Can't a guy get any peace around here!?" You laugh at him as he runs out into the yard demanding a balloon.
The feelings washed away, knowing he'd be hiding by tonight.
He was right, though. You couldn't believe this was your life as of right now.
"Y/n?"
You hummed in response as you cleaned dippers cut. "Would you say your feelings for Grunkle stan are...of the romantic kind?" Mable asked from right beside her brother her own adventure wounds needing to be rented too.
"Mable!" Dipper yelped, knocking her over with a nudge. You laughed out loud at her question. "Sorry..sorry." You cleared your throat. "Excuse me. Mable, what would make you ask something like that?"
"Oh c'moonnn as a love expert-"
"Your twelve-"
"I can see how you and grunkle stan look at eachother, you've been friends for years, and you've really never felt anything more than friendship for him?"
You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about her question. "I guess maybe a few years ago... but things were different back then, and I never knew how he felt about me. Besides, so much time has passed that I'm sure that old fart feels anything other than tired anymore." Mable jumped to her feet and smashed your cheeks together.
"Y/n it is my mission as a matchmaker and love expert of gravity falls. I make it my mission to get you and my grunkle together!"
"Mable, why do you even care? Grunkle stan has shown no interest in anything other than money since we've been here."
"Dippers got a point." You say pulling tables small hands from your face. "Besides, I'm not taking love advice from the girl who dated little Gideon not too long ago."
Mable's face grew red, and she pulled the neck of her sweater up. "Ugh, don't remind me." You chuckled again, refocusing the attention to the wounds on each kid as Dipper went back to explaining what had happened in the first place.
You'd gone the next few weeks thinking about mables question. Did you still have feelings for stanford?
It wasn't something you thought much about. You two just existed with eachother nothing ever really came out of it since you were young. Besides, you'd never make a move unless you knew his exact feeling for you. He'd been so secretive recently that the only way For that to happen, you'd have to get inside his mind to find anything like that out.
Of course that was almost impossible.
"Y/N THERES A LITTLE YELLOW GUY TRUING TO TAKE OVER STANS MIND WE NEED YOUR HELP DIPPERS GOING TO TAKE US IN THERE COME ON COME ON!"
Of course maybe you spoke to soon.
"Mable slow down! What's going on!?" You asked as she dragged you by the sleeve into the family room where Stanford sat sleeping.
"So like we saw little Gideon in the woods and poof a little yellow man appeared and he made a deal with him to go inside stans mind to get the code to the safe that Mr pines keeps the deed in." Soos explained in one long breath you could see his face Turing a strange shade of red and violet.
"Wha-"
"No time we need to go now before it's to late!" Mable cried before you could even think to ask for clarification or any follow up questions.
You followed along with what Dipper told you to do, and you watched as he read from an oddly familiar book.
You make a note to ask him about it later.
Your thoughts were cut off as dippers chanting got louder, and before you knew it, the world had melted away from you, and you were suddenly sitting in a patch of grey grass.
"Wow! This is stans mind?" Mable said, hopping up and looking at the grey landscape before you.
You pushed yourself and looked around jaw on the floor. "I've done some pretty crazy things in my day, but this is beyond me..."
"Thanks for coming along y/n!" Mable said.
"Of course! You know you can count on me for anything, kids."
"OK, we need to keep an eye out for the triangle guy." Dipper stated as you headed twoard the shack.
"Yea, look put for the triangle guy!" You jumped at the voice that appeared out if no were surprised to see it belonged to exactly what the kids and soos had said.
"It's him it's the guy!" Soos said in alarm pointing at the glowing shape.
"You leave our grunkles mind alone, you isosollies monster!" Mable shouted as she charged at him. "Mable!" You and Dipper shouted each holding out an arm to grab her.
You watched in horror as the triangle swallowed her up and waited a minute before spitting her back out into your arms.
"Stan's family, it's good to finally meet you! Some more than others!" He said, floating particularly close to you as he said so. You scowled at him and shielded Mable from him. "Names bill cipher."
"Get out of stans mind! You have no business here!" Dipper shouted.
"Trust me, kid! You're the only one who should be getting out of here your way over your heads." His one winked as he shot a finger gun twoard Dipper shooting ahole through him. "I'm gonna find that code and and you're not going to stop me!"
He flew away, leaving a triangle shape hole in the shack.
"We gotta get that code before that freak does." You said pausing to giggle as Mable reached her arm through the hole in dippers chest.
"Mable!" You coughed and put on a serious face. "Alright, kids...and soos.. let's go."
You lead the way into the shack of stans mind your eyes darting from door to door each labeled a different thing.
Fears, hopes, etc.
"Look! Stans memories!" Soos pointed out. You all ran into the hall watching memories play out all around you. "Quick, let's split up and cover more ground."
You turned to open a door but the mables' hand caught yours. "Look what I found!" She squealed with giddy. "You found the code? Already?" She shook her head and dragged you out down the memory hall and too a door with a heart carved into the wood. Signage warning against opening the door nearly covering every inch.
"What is this?" You asked the girl beside you. "Look for yourself." She lifted up a "get lost" sign to reveal the doors true label.
"Y/ns memories."
"Oh Mable I dunno...we should really be looking for the code."
"Oh, c'mon, you said it yourself that you never really knew what he felt for you it wouldn't hurt to look!"
"Yes, Mable, it would! the shack is at steak-"
Before you could continue, Mable had opened the door and pushed you in. "Face your fears y/n! Face your emotions!" She slammed the door shut on you. "Don't worry y/n we'll find the code before bill does, I'll come back for you when we do!"
you huffed and stood up dusting yourself off, this was ridicules you knew how Stanford felt about you you've known each other for what felt like your whole life. Besides you told Mable already if anything was to happen it would have by now. your hand grasped the door handle as you prepared to chase the twins and Soos down.
"Congratulations!" you heard a voice say from behind you. you turned to see one of the many doors cracked open. despite your better judgment to go after the kids you went straight for the door pulling it open. to see your wedding day.
well, your fake Vegas wedding. stan stood at the counter with the cashier in a dinky thrift shop on the outskirts of Vegas itself, waiting for you. "oh right..." you mumble to yourself watching your shared memory through Stans eyes.
"I'm sure you're very excited about the wedding." Stanford shrugged. "Trust me, I've been married a few times...this ain't nothing new for me." you frowned a little, you weren't sure why, you knew that's how he'd felt and it wasn't a real wedding. "Stanford! Look at this!!!" you yelled excitedly to him pushing open a dressing room curtain behind him.
you excitedly spun around in the wedding outfit you had picked out, you were so much younger, it suspired you too see yourself.
you watched Stanford's face flush upon seeing you his eyes fixated on you jaw almost on the floor. you didn't remember him looking at you like that. "wow you look...you look amazing!" he said rubbing the back of his neck trying to find the right words. you squealed in a pitch similar to the one Mable had done earlier before shutting the curtain again. "you were saying this wasn't something new?" the cashier asked raising a suspicious eyebrow.
"listen between you and me this whole Vegas wedding isn't anything new for me...they're corny, cheap and lousy all things y/n doesn't deserve any of that stuff, and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people, but I've known y/n for a while now the way she makes me feel isn't like how anyone has made me feel before I could never tell any of this too her, I've ruined to many relationships I could risk losing her in my life so try to act nonchalant about these types of thing, don't want to give myself away you know." the cashier stared at him unsure of how to react to all the information dumped onto him.
"here's 20 bucks to forget everything I said." he said sliding money across the counter.
you shut the door with a smile before looking down the long hallway. you crept over to another one. opening the door only to see a normal night you asleep on his shoulder as he continued to talk about the movie that was playing without realizing. it took him a whole monologue before realizing you had passed out. he leaned over careful not to wake you but enough to see you where sleeping.
he took a deep breath before talking some more. "Here goes nothing, y/n you've been with me through thick and thin when no one had my back you where there...I guess what I'm trying to say is y/n I...I think I have feeing's for you...you've made me an honest man in some ways...and.." you jumped upon hearing screaming.
"Oh no Kids!" you took off running swinging the door open and running down the hallway running past memories trying to find the kids. "Dipper!? Mable? Soos!?"
"Dipper!-"
"This here's a-"
"Stan Vac-"
"Stanley do something-" you could no longer hear the kids let alone see them in all the noise of Stanford's memories. you began running out of the memories hall in hopes you'd find them somewhere else. "Dipper!? Mab-" the wind was knocked out of you as you and dipper crashed right into each other. "Y/n! there you are!"
"Dipper you're ok! where is your sister and Soos!?"
"Bills got them! Don't worry I have a plan!" you followed dipper through Stanford's mind following his exact plan, you never even thought about what you could do in ones mind, flying and giant water guns didn't never even cross your mind.
"Hey one eye!" you and dipper grabbed bills attention as you floated up to his level neon colored squirt guns in hand. "WHAT!?"
"Dipper! Y/N! how are you doing that?"
"This is a mindscape you can do anything you imagine in here!" you explained."who told you that? dont liten to them!"
"ready dipper!?"
"ready y/n! aim and..."
"Fire!" you both shot your water guns at bills eye causing him to cry out in pain, you watched Mable conjure herself kitten fists and launched them at bill.
"Now think of a portal out of stans mind!" the four of you shut your eyes and all thought as hard as you could as a portal opened up under bill. "No No No wait! wait! wait! ENOUGH!"
you all flew back as the space around you was now a white void. "you know you're all a lot smarter than you look! I'll let you go for now, you might prove to be useful especially you y/n."
you scrunched your nose at him. "but remember there will come a day when everything you care about will change! until then I'll be watching you!"
there was a bright flash and he was gone. "well that wasn't ominous.." you said "we did it though! He left!" dipper cheered.
before you knew it Stan woke up and you were all wakening up in the Livingroom. and for a moment everything was normal again. "Ugh I had the weirdest dream." stan said rubbing his head. "You're ok!" you exclaimed running over to hug him and planting a quick kiss on his lips. his face heated up as you did so and before you knew it the kids had joined the hug.
a few hours later you'd gotten the kids to go to bed and found Stanford sitting on the back porch. "care for a drink?" you asked offering him a pitty cola he accepted with a smile. and you sat down next to him.
"where have you been?' you asked. a lot had happened today a lot that made you think things over and you decided to start there.
"what do you mean?" he asked with a chuckle. "I've been right here like i always have."
you shook your head. "Most days we can't find you, its been me and the kids or just me in the house, a lot has changed since those two came around most of its been for the better but i didn't think it would drive you away."
he frowned. "do you trust me?"
"Of course." you answered without hesitation.
"I've been working on something i cant tell you what but it's important. and I'll tell you what if it bothers you so much, I'll be around more." you smiled.
"good, I miss you." you said bumping into him.
you both chuckled and then there was a beat of silence you looked up at the sky and took a breath. "Stanford."
"Yea?"
"I think...we'll in light of some recent events...Stanford you mean the world to me."
"uh-oh is something wrong? why are you getting all sappy?"
you took another breath and exhaled all the words you were trying to say.
"Stanford pines I think I'm in love with you and I think you feel the same way about me!" you covered your mouth after you spilled it all. and he stared at you in shock. "Y/n...I uh..."
"I know this is random...buy. You know better late than never, right?"
stan stared at you in awe where your eyes sparkling in the starlight. was this really happening to him right now?
"Stanford?" you placed a hand over his when went silent. normally he would jump at an opportunity like this. sweep you off your feet. But as he stared at your hopeful eyes all he could do was wonder how much of what you felt was really for him, Stanley Pines and how much of it was for who you had believed him to be.
"Oh come on Grunkle stan! Take her on a date already!" Mables voice shouted from above you.
"Mable? what are you doing up!?" you shouted standing to your feet to look up at the twins practically hanging out their window. "yea c'mon Grunkle stan!" dipper agreed with his sister.
"Date! Date! date!" the two kids cheered into the night air.
"alright! alright!" stan said trying to shush them.
"y/n...would you do me the honors of going to dinner with me?" you laughed and his heart swelled at your answer. "Of course Stanford pines."
~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
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#ford pines x reader#gravity falls x reader#stan pines x reader#stanford pines x reader#Stanley pines x reader
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i just think….toxic ex bf!dino who starts hoeing out to make you jealous.. he fucks any random girl at any random party but only thinks of you, making sure his hickeys are visible enough for you to see them, posting pics with randoms on his socials 💭
nectar of the gods
tags: smut (18+), angst, toxic chan (duhh), pet names (baby), creampie
w/c: 1.4k
a/n: this concept is insanity actually anon i am in love with u (WINK WONK WINK WONK WINK WONK) ..,,, pls visit my inbox more often :3
thinking about your toxic ex chan.
it's funny when you say that, because he was the one who said he wanted to end things on good terms; told you he wanted "none of that drama ... none of that petty shit." chan had said it so casually that you're now having a hard time trying to figure out if you're going crazy.
crazy, because just three nights after you two ended things, he was posting on his finsta (which, by the way, he demanded you stay on for the sake of keeping peace and not cutting ties) at some party you weren't invited to with some girl you didn't know dancing—no, grinding—on the same man whose lap you were bouncing on just a week earlier.
crazy, because two days later you go to hang out with your group of friends and of course chan is there (because when isn't chan there?), and you swear you haven't seen him wear a shirt with a collar that low in ages and ... is that a hickey? you might go crazy.
crazy, because you aren't sure if he expects you to stare ..,, crazy, because you swear you see his lips curve upwards into a smug smirk when you turn your eyes away, bashfully heating up in the cheeks. "you good?" he asks casually, when you choke over your water a little when you decide to glance back at him and catch second and third splotchy, bruising mark under his collarbone.
crazy, because you aren't sure why your stomach bubbles up with some nasty feeling of ... anger? uncertainty? jealousy?
crazy, because how could you be jealous? you broke up with him—told him you've got too much going on in your life, and while chan was great and all, you don't really have the time for a boyfriend right now. so really, you have no right to be jealous, isn't that correct?
fuck, you've gone crazy.
it doesn't help that you try to avoid him. the next week, you don't sit next to him in the lecture you have together, and you don't think chan'll make a fuss about it. after all, it seems like he's moving on just fine, so you hardly consider the fact that he might be just a bit bothered by the fact that you choose to sit next to seungcheol instead.
you don't expect him to walk up to you afterwards with a frown etched deep into his lips as he scoffs, "already throwing yourself on my friends?" to which you'd like to respond with: "aren't you doing just the same?" ... 'cept you don't say that, because that would mean you're jealous, right? and you're not jealous ... no way!
so you just shake your head softly and say that you're sorry for causing a fuss. that you'll sit with him next time. that you'll start talking to seungcheol less. chan grins at you and nods his head, and as he turns away to head to his car, you catch the fading mark on his neck from a few nights before, and wonder if you should say something.
you don't, of course.
that night you go home, and you're scrolling on your insta and then there's that bright ring around the chan's finsta and so curiosity undoubtedly kills the cat. maybe you tear up a little at the sight of a an obviously faded chan who's got his cheek pressed up against another girl's, both of them grinning as people party in the background.
and so you call him, and he's sweet at first. asks you, "hey what's up ... hey are you crying?" to which you respond with more sniffles. and you wanna hang up, you wanna hang up so bad, but then you think that if you cut the call he's just gonna go off and talk to that girl—or worse, he'll fuck her—and you're totally not jealous but you also totally can't let that happen.
and so you cry a bit harder—you replay the image of those stupid, big fat hickeys on his neck—and you let your tummy churn while you wallow in your own self pity.
"what's wrong baby?" chan asks you from the other side, and in the background you faintly hear the blaring techno and you briefly consider telling him you miss him, which is odd because you don't miss him ... do you? you just don't want him to go off with what's-her-face ... right?
and so you're silent, tryin' to figure out what you should say but then you hear this voice and it's too high pitched, too bubbly, too girly to be chan's, and suddenly your heart sinks right down to your stomach.
"channie, c'mon! let's have some fun?" the voice of a girl calls in the background, and you're just about to open your mouth and say something when chan beats you to it.
"i gotta go," he tells you in a rush and oh the sound of the line being cut will be you're undoing, because now the image of chan fucking this random ass girl burns into your skull and for some reason, you can't seem to shave it down.
and so you drown yourself in your tears, pressing yourself into the cushions of your couch and your sobs rack through your empty living room while chan is probably in some strangers room fucking the living daylights out of a cunt that isn't yours.
you think you might just fall asleep like this—alone in this dimly lit room with nothing but your tears dropping onto your lap; and so when you hear chan's voice you think this might be a dream, but then you look up and suddenly you see him.
he stands in front of you in all his glory, face flushed and faux blonde hair brushes just over his eyes as he walks closer to where you sit on your couch. chan shushes you when you ask him why he's still got your keys—tells you that isn't important right now—and he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, asks you why you're crying, why there are tears in your eyes when "channie's right here ... channie's not gonna leave you ..."
and then he's kneeling in front of you, askin' you again why you're crying and so you cry even harder ... his hands are all over you, stroking your cheeks and then rubbing your shoulders, then one hand's on your hip and kneading the soft flesh and you think he's just trying to comfort you and so you cry even harder because you wonder whether he had his hands on that girl just moments earlier.
but then he's whispering in your ear, tellin' you he's gonna "make you feel better ..." but only if you'll let him.
his hands feel so nice all over you, rubbing up and down your thighs and—fuck, when did he slip his fingers between your legs? not that you care anyways, because even with your mind deluded with tears, you find the want to slowly hump your hips into his touch until he's slipping his hand down your pant, asking you if this is you letting him "make you feel good."
of course, you whine through your tears, nodding dumbly when he slips his rough fingers into your soaked cunt, murmuring into your neck 'bout how "channie's always gonna be here to make you feel better ... channie's never gonna leave ..."
he fingers you for a bit, and then he fucks you into the couch. it's hot and sloppy and heavy and messy, and it has you crying and panting—hands all over each other because you can't get enough of him.
your lips run all over his neck, his chest, collarbone—all of it, because you are in no way jealous, you just enjoy marking your territory. and chan fucks you so deep, groaning, "this pussy's made for me—just for me, you hear me?" and you are not a jealous person but you grin to yourself in this fucked out haze because chan is right.
you wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks you missionary, raking your nails into his back, tugging at the roots of his hair—doin' everything you fucking can to show chan that he might not be yours but he is yours, and you are his.
the thought that this might come and bite you in the ass crosses your mind briefly, but chan is quick to fuck your worries away, tellin' you "no one's gonna fuck you like this ..." and so you moan, and chan takes that as an agreement, so he fucks you harder until you're choking over your own sobs of pleasure.
"this pussy's mine, you got that baby?"
#answered#✰ anon#mdni#svt smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#svt scenarios#dino smut#dino x reader#dino scenarios#lee chan x reader#lee chan smut#lee chan imagines#💌 drabbles
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😵💫 - measuring fantasies.
(coriolanus snow x f. reader)
summary: at every gala, at every party, you could see a cerulean pair of eyes watching you from afar- measuring you, from head to toe. you could say you did the same.
c.w: experienced reader, flirting, creampie, unproctected sex, dom reader, coriolanus crushing on you, songfic, drunk sex, virginity loss (male)
eyes on his, hand on a cup of posca, you could see coriolanus snow from the other side of the hall, trying his best not to look back at you, which seemed to be kind of impossible since you were in such a tight black dress.
you have imagined his hands on your body before- well, c'mon, he's quite big isn't he? of course you're gonna look. of course you're gonna fantasize about his hands on your body, going up and down on your waist. it isn't even difficult to imagine it.
with such a pretty face, seeing him across the room seemed like a joke to the way you wanted to dominate him. make him beg and plead to be inside of your cunt. just the thought of it made you smile, wine lipstick being an invitation for his lips.
"coriolanus," you called. "festus is calling you on the other room"
he arched his brow, but the sight of you in front of him was great- perfect, even.
"where is he?" he asked, finishing the cup of posca- fuck the alcohol, it was his third cup. he needed it. he knew you would be with someone else, he didn’t want to see it. he wanted you to be with him.
"i'll show you, just follow me." you said, and he obeyed you promptly, enchanted by the sight of you, by your smell. mesmerized, truly.
then, you bought him to an empty room, whatever- the gala is being held by your parents. the room was yours to use.
"well, where is he?" he asked again, brow arched. cute, he really thought you have bought him there to talk with his colleague, how innocent.
you turned abruptly to him, finished off your glass of posca the quickest you could, threw it away and thanked heavens for the fur rug on the entire floor of your room. he looked at you, a bit scared, maybe surprised, and you walked to him, closing the door behind him and letting a lipstick stain on his white button-up shirt. you could buy another one for him, fuck it. for now, you needed to show him who was in charge.
"you really thought i would bring you here all alone just for you to talk to festus? you're so cute, love." you said. the alcohol on that glass was starting to hit on your brain, you didn't want to mess things up by calling him for the wrong name.
"i- well, uh-"
"shhh," you started "you know i see you looking at me, you know i look at you. just enjoy it, ok?" you said. then again, you were quite literally pinning him against the wall, closing any chance he could have to pull away from you.
your lipstick was smeared by his lips slamming on yours, his hands on your waist, your hands on his shoulders, then his hands travelled down your body just like you imagined, and again, you smiled against his lips when you felt his hands on your thighs, grabbing them for you to wrap them around his waist.
"you're terrible," he said, kaying you on the bed, getting on top. of course you wouldn't allow it. no man is supposed to be on top of you.
"and why is it?"
"you don't know how much i've been waiting for it. for you." he said, you smiled, kissing the smeared marks of your lipstick on his lips.
"go on. keep talking." you demanded it. it wasn't a question. you needed the answer.
"i dreamed of you. do you know what it is to wake up breathless?" he asked, burying his face on the curvature of your neck, going down to your cleavage.
"uhum. what did i do to you in your dreams?"
"so many things." he said "i questionated my sanity on all of them." he kissed the skin of your boob, pulling the dress down to see your boobs completely.
so desperate. almost starving, maybe.
"yeah, i can imagine." you joked. "guess dreams come true hm?" you kissed the bridge of his nose. "let's see... you don't have a condom now, do you?"
"no."
"you're a virgin aren't you?" he frowned, and kept himself quiet. you didn't need much more than that. you smiled at his sudden quietness, the small pout on his lips was cute. "it's fine, i don't mind."
his heart seemed to beat happily at those words, he almost smiled at it if he didn’t feel so embarassed. then he saw how you were sitting so nicely on top of him- your dress and his pants were the only things keeping you both separated. and god, look at him! he's so cute. looking at you with the hope that you would let him inside. look at him, already getting hard only from the thought of your cunt on him.
and you did let him inside, too anxious to see the faces he would make.
you pulled his dick out of it's confines, and honestly, the question to why he was still a virgin was something that sounded different now. he was big. truly big. and the way his tip teased your clit because of how you grabbed him made you wet, your eyes half closed as you heard the sounds you both were making, the wet sounds of your pussy gushing at the tip of his dick were like music to you, the prettiest orchestra you could listen to was the natural sounds of you teasing his throbbing dick.
he closed his eyes, mouth agape as he let small sounds out of his lips, your scent filling his nostrils and then, when he engulfed your boob into his mouth you were too surprised, so much so that you ended up putting him inside you entirely.
you moaned a bit louder than expected, the way his dick was stretching you up so good felt terribly good- what's the name of this? balls deep? yeah, he was pretty much deep inside you.
he bit your nipple quietly, gently, sucking on it so good you thought of your nipple as a candy for him to be so eager.
so hungry, and for you! god, he was perfect. the most perfect boy you fucked until now.
you didn't care about the sounds you were making, the music outside was too loud, the talks too, and your room is soundproof. fuck it. make it a gift to him.
you ride him graciously, like you were used to it- to his size. "fuck- i didn't thought you would be so big!" you said. ah, you knew just what to say to those boys. but to him? it was different. it was true, everything you told him while riding him was true.
he was the only one you allowed to fuck you rightfully, his hands on your waist, guiding your moves up and down, back and forth all while his teeth was nibbling on your nipples and your neck.
your moans became louder, you melted and mewled at every thrust he gave upwards you, his hands grabbing you so tightly, his fingers still buried on your meat, on your ass, manhandling you. you felt like going crazy.
"you're so tight- fuck, 'should've fucked you before." he moaned, trying his very best not to cum too quick. you could notice how he was controlong himself not to. he was a virgin, after all. until twenty minutes ago he haven't had his first kiss-
and then there was you. beautiful, experienced, perfect you. collecting boys as a way to cope with the boredom. and him, right under you, who was awkward enough to think you called him to talk with someone else in a empty room. truly, how cute.
with this thought in mind, he came. feeling humiliated, he hid his face in the curvature of your neck. "sorry." he said, and you smiled.
"it's fine, baby. just keep going. i'm sure you can do it." you said, and he nodded obediently, thrusting slowly into your core. sensitive, but eager. he kept going inside you even if you knew he was still trying ti hold back from cumming again.
you smiled at him, the view was just too lovely, closed shut eyes, your mouth opened up to let out a moan. there was something truly erotic in the way he kissed your shoulder, closing his eyes while thrusting inside you.
when you came, you felt like you were in heaven, your legs crossed on his waist, your nails scratching the back of his broad shoulders, your eyes closed shut- and him, throbbing inside you, his eyes couldn't seem to leave you, and he loved how you were tightening around him, so warm and gummy.
he took his dick out of you, watching how your cum and his leaked down your legs. it was the prettiest sight he have ever seen. "sorry- i shouldn't have cummed inside."
" don't worry. i liked it." you said, kissing his temple.
you watched as he closed his eyes. he adjusted his shirt and pants, helped you in doing so again.
then again, after all of this, every party, gala, whatever occasion you both would meet up he was there, measuring you, looking you up and down and minutes later he was learning a new thing with you. still, his favorites were always in his dreams, when you would do all the shameful things he was afraid to tell you.
like when you would slap him in his dreams and call him a slut. he would always wake up too embarassed to how hard his dick would be.
but that's for another time. right now, he was too occupied eating you out.
#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#young president snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#tbosas smut#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#x reader
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ˏˋ main yahaan hoon ࿐ྂ "I'm in the lights of your eyes, you see me wherever you look"
summary: in which you meet Sano Manjiro a month before your wedding and fall in love. you didn't realize you fell in love with him till the pre-wedding rituals began.
pairing(s): bonten!mikey x desi!reader
notes: title translates to 'I'm here'. a purely self-indulgent fic based on Veer-Zaara(2004)'s song Main Yahaan Hoon if Veer was a gang leader and was actually at the wedding instead of Zaara hallucinating him. line dividers by rookthornesartistry heart divider by cafekitsune
warnings: infidelity, cheating, arranged marriages, implied emotionally absent parents, emotional blackmail, suggestive themes, implied oral(f), manjiro carries reader, slightly open ending
word count: 5690
Your father was a politician, businessman and just well very rich. You’re his only daughter so he spoils you rotten. Giving you all the things you can ever want. He was a good man, your mother a great person too. However, it wasn’t a very emotionally fulfilling relationship. You were okay with it though. Jewels and clothes sated the ache in your heart even if it was temporary. You got engaged almost as soon as you turned of age. The man was just a little bit older and also a politician like your father. Arranged marriages were common in your culture and you had never dated before anyway. It’s about a month before the wedding you meet Sano Manjiro. You aren’t sure what he does but he’s also really rich like your father. He has a few close business associates and they all have matching full moon hanafuda tattoos. Sanzu Haruchiyo let you trace his tattoo for some reason after seeing your fascination with it.
Bonten were business associates of your father. You weren’t sure exactly for what but you also couldn't care less. They were all pretty fun people. You made them watch Bollywood movies with you and do a whole bunch of other things and they did it without any complaint and seemed to enjoy it as well. They were all cool and then there was Sano Manjiro…
Sano Manjiro was different from the rest. He had a quiet intensity about him, a presence that demanded attention without a single word. You noticed his eyes first—dark, deep, and endlessly contemplative. He was always observing, absorbing everything around him with a sharp, discerning gaze. Despite his quiet demeanour, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. At first, you thought he wouldn’t be putting up with your childish games but he proved you wrong. When you called him a stupid idiot he didn’t get mad but instead, he smiled. He was amused. For some reason, it surprised you because he didn’t seem like the type to smile or just show any kind of emotion in general.
Your father, of course, invites them all to your wedding. It was all fine but you don’t want to marry your fiancé. He was nice at first but there was something about him that put you off. You didn’t like that man. You sit in your father’s office in your engagement outfit while music echoes from the bottom floor of the mansion to the top. A white lengha with intricate embroidery adorns your figure with a full-sleeve blouse along with a diamond necklace gifted by your future mother-in-law and a matching tikka in the same style resting in the center of your forehead. Your dupatta is draped over your head and right now it feels too heavy. Although you and your fiancé were already engaged, your mother-in-law insisted on having a flashy ceremony to kick start the wedding week. “You’re my only child… Hence, I’ve pampered you and given you freedom” Your father says, his hands clasped behind his back and using his businessman voice “I haven’t raised you like a girl but like a boy”
There is a lump in your throat. You know if you speak you’ll cry. Your father walks toward you. “Usually the mother has to explain to her daughters about her duties. But since I think of you as my son, I’ll explain your duties to you”
You look up at him. You’re sitting in his chair the same way you would when you were a child. But unlike back then, your bare feet press flat against the hardwood floor. “You already know that your grandfather was a respected politician. But he died a few days before he could attain success. Since that day, as his heir, I’ve been trying to take his party to great heights but I’ve been unsuccessful so far” He says and you know already what he will say next “But with the help of your finacé’s father, I can attain that success”
You don’t feel too good. The lump in your throat gets bigger and you desperately try to swallow it. Your father turns your back to you, staring at your family picture. “Soon you’ll get married into their family. It’s your duty…” He pauses and turns to look at you again “...to understand the importance of this relationship. Spread happiness, whether the times are good or bad and strengthen the bond of every relationship and to protect the honour of both families at all costs. A small mistake or a bit of carelessness from your end could ruin everything… I hope you understand what I’m trying to say.”
He knows, he knows, he knows. Your father had a feeling you no longer wished to marry the man you were betrothed to. You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper out a pitiful “yes.”
“Is there anything you wish to say?”
You simply shake your head no. You couldn’t. You had to marry this man even if you didn’t want to. Your father was practically begging you without actually begging. He smiles. “Come here”
You stand up, your anklets jingle with each step you take. “It’s been so long since I saw my daughter smile,” He says as you now stand in front of him “I hope you haven’t left it in Japan”
You smile weakly. How were you to tell him you did? How do you tell your father you left your heart in Japan? He pulls you in for a hug and a single tear runs down your cheek.
You did not wish to marry the man you were promised to but you didn’t want to break your father’s heart either.
Your father leads you down the large marble staircase, the railing covered with flowers and the entire bottom floor decorated lavishly. The vibrant colours and festive sounds of the pre-wedding celebration fill the air, yet your heart feels heavy with an unspoken sorrow. As you descend the staircase, your eyes scan the crowd, seeking a familiar face—a face that brought unexpected joy and confusion to your life. In the midst of the lively guests, you spot Sano Manjiro standing quietly at the edge of the room with his associates. He is dressed in beige slacks and a silk back button-up shirt, his presence commanding even in the bustling environment. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the noise around you fades. His gaze, deep and inscrutable, seems to reach into the very depths of your soul. The rituals proceed with the grandeur expected of such an event. The music, the dancing, the laughter—all blend into a blur as your mind drifts back to the times spent with Manjiro and his associates. The times when you could be yourself when you laughed genuinely and felt a connection beyond words. Sanzu Haruchiyo, always mischievous yet kind, had once teased you about your fascination with their tattoos. “Do you want one too?” he joked, letting you trace the lines of the intricate hanafuda design.
You had laughed, but deep down, there was something about those moments that felt more real than anything else in your life. As you and your fiancé exchange rings, you feel Manjiro’s eyes on you, a silent support that gives you strength. The night progresses, and you find yourself stealing glances at him, your heart aching with an unspoken truth. You didn’t want this arranged marriage. You wanted something more, something that only he seemed to understand.
It feels stupid though. It’s probably a simple infatuation but oh you had never felt this way in your life before and even as your fiancé slides the engagement ring onto your finger, the only thing that goes through your mind is Manjiro.
You sit alone in your room late at night on your bed, too lazy to sit at your dresser. Your dupatta was carelessly discarded at the foot of your bed as soon as you entered your room, too lazy to even remove your lengha and get in bed. The day had been tiring. You start to remove your jewelry, starting with the large diamond necklace that felt way too heavy. It’s as you are taking off the tikka from your forehead that someone enters. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. The air shifts, and the familiar, intense presence washes over you. It’s Manjiro. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice soft, almost a whisper.
You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. He steps closer, his movements silent on the plush carpet. He doesn’t say anything else, just stands there, watching as you fumble with the clasp of your tikka. Your fingers tremble, and the delicate piece slips from your grasp, falling onto your lap. “Let me,” he offers, reaching out. His hands are gentle but firm as he takes over, carefully removing the tikka and setting it aside.
His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a warmth spreading through you, melting the anxiety and sorrow that had been weighing you down. “Thank you,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible.
He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s a question in his gaze, an unspoken query that you can’t quite decipher. The silence between you is heavy with words left unsaid, emotions unacknowledged. “Why did you come here?” you ask, needing to break the silence, to understand why he’s here, why he makes you feel the way you do.
“I needed to see you,” he replies simply, his gaze steady. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
His concern touches you deeply, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You blink them back, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. Manjiro sits down next to you, being careful to not sit on your skirt. He reaches over and starts to remove your earrings. Despite his fingers being calloused and rough, his hands are gentle. He touches you like the slightest touch might break you. Each brush of his fingers against your skin feels like a promise, unspoken but powerful. You sit there, letting him help you, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over you. The weight of the day's events begins to lift, replaced by the warmth of his presence. When he's done, he sets the earrings aside and meets your gaze again. His eyes are filled with something you can't quite name, something that makes your heart beat faster. “Let’s get this off, hm?” Manjiro’s hand reaches around you and tugs the strings on the back of your blouse free
Your breath catches, but you nod, trusting him implicitly. The fabric loosens, and you feel the pressure on your chest easing. He helps you out of the heavy, ornate lengha, his movements were careful, his eyes never straying where they shouldn't. This was wrong. So wrong. You were a damn cheater. But as Manjiro unzips your blouse and pulls it off your arms, you can’t find yourself to care. “‘Jiro…” Your breath is shaky as he lowers your bare body down
“Don’t worry” he whispers, a heavy hand cupping your cheek so tenderly
Something in your head tells you it’s been years since this man was tender to anyone. Your breath hitches at the touch of his roughened palm against your cheek, a stark contrast to the softness in his gaze. Manjiro's thumb gently brushes away a stray tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that seems to pierce through your very soul. "I shouldn't be here" you murmur, your voice barely audible, a mix of fear and yearning.
It was a little stupid you were even saying that since it was your own room. "But you want me here" he counters softly, not a question, but a statement of truth.
The words hang between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. Your heart beats wildly, torn between duty and desire. You don’t reply, unable to deny the truth in his statement. Manjiro’s presence is intoxicating, a dangerous allure that you find impossible to resist. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. "Tell me to leave, and I will," he whispers, his lips so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his words. "But if you want me to stay…"
You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The choice is yours, and you know what your heart wants. "Stay" you breathe, barely more than a whisper, but enough for him to hear and without missing a beat he slides your engagement ring off your finger
Manjiro doesn’t take your virginity that night. Instead, he calls you a good girl for saving yourself for after marriage and then gets down between your legs and ravishes you.
The next morning was the Haldi ceremony. In the ceremony turmeric paste would be smeared on your face and oil on your hair. It was more of a fun kind of thing anyway and during all the weddings you have attended in the past, all the guests would end up getting the turmeric paste all over themselves while playing around with it. You were wearing a yellow salwar kameez with flowers embroidered on the top and your dupatta was bright pink. You sit on the ground by the pool while your cousins hold up a heavier more embroidered dupatta over top of you like shielding you from the sky. “Don’t put too much” You warn your dad as he smears some of the turmeric paste on your cheek
There is oil dripping down your forehead from when your cousin decided he wanted to be funny and poured the entire bowl on your head. Tumeric paste is smeared on your feet, arms, cheeks and nose. The vibrant colours of the ceremony blur together, a swirl of yellow and pink, laughter echoing around you. Yet, despite the cheerful chaos, your mind is elsewhere, drifting back to the previous night. Manjiro's touch lingers on your skin like a haunting melody, one you cannot shake off no matter how hard you try. Your father's laughter brings you back to the present, his smile wide as he steps aside for the next relative to apply the turmeric paste.
As the ceremony continues, you feel a pair of eyes on you. You glance up and catch a glimpse of Manjiro standing a little away from the festivities, his usual quiet intensity softened by a hint of something tender. He stands apart from his associates, watching you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you. The noise of the ceremony fades, replaced by the silent conversation happening between your gazes. Your heart beats faster as you remember his whispered promises from the night before. His words, his touch—they haunt you, make you question everything you thought you knew about your life and your impending marriage. You know it's reckless, dangerous even, to let yourself feel this way. But you can't help it. Not when his presence brings you a sense of peace and belonging you’ve never felt before. “This stuff smells weird” Koko comments as he crouches in front of you and smells the turmeric paste on his fingers before smearing it on your cheek “Are you sure this is safe for your skin?”
“Of course it is” you reassure with a smile
The rest of Bonten does the same. Finally, it’s Manjiro’s turn. He crouches down in front of you, an unknown emotion swirling in his eyes. Without a word, he takes the yellow paste and smears some on your right cheek then the left. His touch is gentle, yet it sends shivers down your spine, the same way it did the night before. The world around you seems to disappear as he smooths the paste over your skin, his eyes never leaving yours. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, emotions too raw to be expressed in the midst of the celebration. Your heart pounds in your chest as his fingers linger on your skin, his touch both comforting and electrifying. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, his voice so low only you can hear.
His words are simple, but the intensity behind them makes your breath hitch. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the celebration.
You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, mixing with the turmeric paste. He offers you a small, almost shy smile, and for a moment, you see a vulnerability in him that he usually keeps hidden. You bring your hand up and smear the paste on his cheek too, making him laugh. His laughter is a rare sound, rich and deep, and it reverberates through you, filling your heart with warmth. You can't help but smile in response, your fingers lingering on his cheek for a moment longer than necessary. The world around you resumes its chaotic pace, but the connection between you and Manjiro remains, a silent promise amidst the noise and colour of the celebration.
As the Haldi ceremony continues, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of your engagement ring, now conspicuously absent from your finger, feels like a liberation and a burden all at once. You glance at Manjiro again, finding comfort in his steady gaze. It’s as if he understands the turmoil within you without needing to ask.
As the ceremony comes to an end and the guests start to leave, you struggle to pick your dupatta off one of the chairs with your turmeric-covered hands. “Damn it” you mutter and look around for someone to help you
“Here you go” Rindo picks up your dupatta for you
You sigh in relief. “Thank you. Can you help me go up to my room?”
It was going to be a task going up to your room while covered in turmeric paste so you needed help. Rindo nods and offers you his arm, guiding you carefully through the crowd and up the stairs. The turmeric paste makes everything slippery, and you're grateful for his steady presence. As you make your way to your room, you can feel Manjiro's eyes on you, a silent promise of his support and understanding. Once inside your room, Rindo helps you sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful and respectful. “Do you need anything else?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.
You shake your head, offering him a grateful smile, your eyes lingering for a moment of the front of his throat where the full moon hanafuda tattoo it etched then you look back up at his eyes. “No, thank you. I’ll manage from here.”
Rindo nods and leaves, closing the door softly behind him. You sit there for a moment, the events of the day and the night before swirling in your mind. You know you need to wash off the turmeric paste, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Manjiro. Eventually, you stand and make your way to the bathroom. The warm water washes away the turmeric, leaving your skin tingling and fresh.
Later that night was the mendhi ceremony. Your hands are covered in intricate designs of flowers and swirls made with henna all the way up to your elbows and your feet with the same. “Ma~” you whine to your mother who was too busy talking to her sister to feed you
Your mother laughs, a twinkle in her eye as she waves you off, engrossed in her conversation. You sigh, looking at the plate of food in front of you, and then at your hands, which are still wet with henna. The intricate designs are beautiful, but they make it impossible for you to eat on your own. You glance around the room, hoping to find someone to help you. Your eyes meet Manjiro’s from across the room. He’s standing with his associates, but his gaze is fixed on you, a soft, knowing smile playing on his lips. Before you can beckon him over, he starts to walk towards you, effortlessly weaving through the crowd. He kneels down next to you, his presence a comforting weight. “Need some help?” he asks, his voice low and warm.
You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yes, please. I can’t eat with this on.”
Manjiro picks up the spoon and gently lifts a small portion of food to your lips. His movements are careful, and deliberate, as if this simple act holds profound significance. You open your mouth, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. As he feeds you, you catch the subtle smirk on his face, and you can't help but smile back. “This is quite the look for you,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Covered in henna and unable to eat by yourself.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, your voice playful. “This is supposed to be a special time, you know?”
“It is,” he agrees, his tone softening. “And you look beautiful.”
The sincerity in his words makes your heart skip a beat. You chew and swallow, the taste of the food mingling with the warmth spreading through your chest. Manjiro continues to feed you, the moment intimate despite the bustling celebration around you. Each spoonful feels like a silent promise, a shared secret that binds you closer together. “Food is spicy…” He murmurs
“You don’t like spicy food?” you ask him
He shakes his head no. “I like the sweets though… After you get married bring me some in Japan?” You laugh softly, the sound mingling with the music and chatter in the room. “Of course,” you promise, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of sharing such a simple pleasure with him. “I’ll bring you all the sweets you want.”
Manjiro's smile widens, a rare glimpse of genuine happiness on his usually stoic face. “I’ll hold you to that,” he replies, his gaze steady on yours. “But only if you promise to come back soon.”
The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you find yourself nodding before you can even think. “I promise,” you say, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
The rest of the mendhi ceremony passes in a blur of laughter and music, but the memory of that moment with Manjiro lingers, a silent promise of things to come. As the night draws to a close, you find yourself reluctant to leave his side, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.
It’s as you lay in bed and stare at your henna-stained hands, searching for your fiancé’s name among the intricate designs. But as you scan the patterns, your heart sinks, and a furrow forms on your brow. The once-clear inscription has been smeared beyond recognition, lost amidst the swirls of henna. A mix of emotions washes over you—relief, guilt, and a pang of sadness. Relief because it feels like a sign, a small reprieve from the impending marriage you’re dreading. Guilt because you know you shouldn’t feel relieved, and shouldn’t be hoping for a way out of a commitment you made. And sadness because despite everything, there’s a part of you that still longs for the simplicity of what could have been. You trace the faint outlines of the henna design, your mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions.
The bond between you and Manjiro grows stronger with each passing moment, a silent promise of a future you never dared to imagine. But the reality of your situation weighs heavily on your shoulders, reminding you of the duty and obligations that bind you to your fiancé and your family.
With a heavy sigh, you curl your fingers into fists. The events of the day replay in your mind—the stolen moments with Manjiro, the whispered promises, the shared laughter. Despite the uncertainty of the future, one thing is clear—you’re falling for him, and there’s no turning back.
The next night is the ladies' sangeet. It’s the last thing left and the next morning is the wedding. You sit with all your female relatives as they sing and dance to old folk songs. You sit among them, a forced smile plastered on your face, your mind drifting to thoughts of the impending wedding. Tomorrow, you'll be bound to a man you don't love, forced into a life of duty and obligation that feels suffocating. When no one is looking, you stand up and hed to the backyard where most your male relatives are, drinking away as usual. You can see Ran has unfortunately been cornered by one of your drunk uncles and is explaining Punjabi politics to him. Ran looks at you for help but you just grin and shake your head. You spot Manjiro walking over to you and you smile at him. “Hi” You say as you walk through the garden together, you anklets jingling with each step you take.
"Hi," Manjiro replies, his voice low and warm, a stark contrast to the chaos of the sangeet unfolding behind you. His presence brings a sense of calm, a welcome respite from the suffocating atmosphere of obligation and expectation.
You walk through the garden together, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm light over the flowers and foliage. The air is filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and roses, a stark contrast to the heavy perfume of the crowded hall. You feel a weight lift off your shoulders with each step, the knot of anxiety in your chest slowly unravelling in his presence. "Having fun?" Manjiro asks, his gaze steady on yours.
There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation. You shake your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Not exactly," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "I feel like I'm suffocating in there."
Manjiro nods in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I can imagine," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper “Japanese weddings are not this… festive or colourful. Must be a little overwhelming”
You nod, grateful for his understanding. "It's not just that," you confess, your voice tinged with frustration. "It's the weight of expectation, the pressure to conform to tradition and duty." You pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "I feel like I'm being suffocated by it all."
Manjiro listens in silence, his gaze unwavering as he takes in your words. There's a depth to his understanding, a sense of empathy that makes you feel seen in a way you haven't felt in a long time. "I know what it's like to feel trapped," he says finally, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "To feel like you're living a life that's not your own."
His words strike a chord within you, resonating with the turmoil you've been feeling. "Do you ever wish things were different?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Manjiro's gaze softens, a hint of something tender in his eyes. "All the time," he admits, his voice filled with honesty and you watch his hand come up to touch the full moon hanafuda tattoo on the back of his neck "But sometimes, we have to make the best of the hand we're dealt."
You nod in understanding, a pang of sympathy tugging at your heart as you take in the vulnerability in Manjiro's words. His admission resonates with your own feelings of frustration and longing, the desire for a life beyond the confines of duty and expectation. "But that doesn't mean we have to give up hope," you say softly "We can still fight for what we want, for the freedom to live our lives on our own terms."
Manjiro's gaze meets yours, a flicker of something akin to hope dancing in his eyes. "And what do you want?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid to voice the question aloud.
You hesitate for a moment, the weight of your desires heavy on your shoulders. “I… I don’t know yet”
And Manjiro simply smiles at your answer and says “well clock is ticking… better hurry up and figure it out” then turns to go back to where he was sitting with your father, other business partners and relatives
As Manjiro walks away, leaving you alone in the tranquil garden, his words linger in the air, a gentle reminder of the urgency of your situation. The weight of expectation and duty presses down on you once more. You watch Manjiro's retreating figure, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing stirring within you. Despite the uncertainty of the future, one thing is clear—your heart is leading you towards him, towards a life of freedom and possibility.
You turn back towards the bustling sangeet, the music and laughter spilling out into the night air. Tomorrow is the wedding, the final culmination of weeks of preparation and anticipation. But as you rejoin the festivities, your mind is elsewhere, filled with thoughts of the man who has captured your heart and the future that awaits.
As the night wears on and the sangeet draws to a close, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, apprehension, and a simmering sense of rebellion— something you shouldn’t be feeling. Tomorrow, you'll be bound to a man you don't love, forced into a life of duty and obligation. But tonight, in the quiet solitude of the garden, you allow yourself to dream of a different future, one where you're free to follow your heart, no matter where it leads.
As the first light of dawn breaks over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the garden, you feel a sense of anticipation stirring within you. In a few hours, you’ll be married. It’s scary. So scary and you feel sick. You sit in a yellow kameez and white salwar, fingers trembling as you put on the naath, hooking it to your nose and fixing the chain over your ear to see how you look in it. The cool metal of the jewellery rests over your lips that you’ve bitten raw. Your makeup lays untouched, face bare. You need to start getting ready.
It’s the early hours of the morning, not many are awake except the servants who are getting the house ready. Your deep red wedding lengha is draped over your bed and seems to be mocking you. Your fingers linger on the intricate embroidery of the deep red lehenga, but the touch brings you no joy, only a sense of resignation. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, the naath adorning your face, you can't help but feel a sense of disconnect. The woman staring back at you seems like a stranger, a mere shell of the person you once were. The weight of the impending marriage hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you with its inevitability. It’s suffocating, and overwhelming, and you find it hard to breathe.
But then, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a sense of determination takes root within you. You refuse to let fear dictate your future, to surrender to the expectations of others. You may not know what lies ahead, but you know one thing for certain—you can't go through with this marriage. Your father may love you and only want the best for you but you are not a pawn in his plan to rule the world.
Gathering your courage, you make a decision—to follow your heart, no matter the consequences. It won't be easy, and there will be challenges ahead, but you refuse to let fear hold you back any longer.
As you slip out of your room after grabbing your yellow dupatta, the quiet of the early morning enveloping you like a comforting embrace, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you. It’s just as you make it past the hall, your anklets unfortunately still jingling with each step(you probably should have taken them off), you come face to face with Manjiro, Sanzu and Rindo. “Hm? And where do you think you’re going?” Manjiro asks and his hand comes up and lifts the naath up then lets it fall back in place resting over your upper lip
You freeze, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. For a moment, you're at a loss for words, your mind racing to come up with an explanation. But as you meet Manjiro's gaze, you see something in his eyes—a flicker of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil raging within you. "I..." you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I don’t want to get married"
The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of your confession. You expect judgment, condemnation, but instead, there's only silence. Manjiro's gaze softens, a hint of something tender in his eyes as he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Hm?”
You let out a shaky breath, henna-covered hands clenching at your sides. “You asked me last night what I wanted and this is what I want…”
There is a moment of silence. Manjiro looks back at Sanzu and nods and the latter pulls out his phone, frantically typing away texts. “C’mon then” Manjiro says and sweeps you off your feet in the same way the male leads in Bollywood movies would
You aren’t sure how things will turn out but as Manjiro carries you down the marble staircase and into a car, you don’t think about anything else. Just him. Manjiro’s arms feel solid and reassuring around you as he carries you down the marble staircase, the weight of your decision becoming lighter with each step. The early morning light filters through the windows, casting a golden hue over everything, as if the world itself is blessing your choice.
As he sets you down into the backseat of a car Manjiro brushes a strand of your hair away from your face then kisses your forehead. “I’m here” he whispers
end notes: at the end, when Sanzu is on his phone, he's texting Koko to post a bunch of evidence of corruption that reader's fiancé’s family has done. Now MIkey could have done that before but he wanted it to be reader's choice so.... yeah. Hope you enjoyed it loll.
#tokyo revengers#mikey sano#mikey x reader#sano mikey manjiro#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers fandom#tokyo revengers x reader#sano manjiro#sano manjiro x reader#manjiro sano#kanto manji gang#tokyo revengers angst#bonten#bonten!mikey#bonten mikey#bonten x reader
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I think I figured out part of why I don't like the Doriath characters.
I think part of it is because of how much Jirt emphasizes how great they are and why we should like them, but rarely actually SHOWS it. I decided to do a thing on the main few Doriath characters who are the center of much controversy. I listed out various things. If I thought the thing is a positive, I gave it a positive mark. If I thought the thing is a negative, I gave it a negative mark. I also kind of put my opinion of the character at the top, so it's a bit of a spoiler.
Thingollo - very dislike
Only Incarnate to marry an angel. Good for him, I guess, but the Ainur aren't always quality judges of character. +0
Focused on his kingdom's security. +1
Tried to help Denethor out. +1
He welcomed the Laiquendi, but not the Noldor. I get keeping Doriath safe is a priority, but there's no indication that he invited any of the Noldor princes to Doriath until he learned the Arafinwions were his kin. Wasn't Finwë his supposed to be a very good friend? This was before he learned about Alqualondë, mind you. -1
Graciously granted the Noldor lands he didn't actually have any say over anymore, as he had stopped trying to protect them due to an inability TO protect them. +0
Acted like he had authority over the Noldor (Quenya ban) when there was no lord-vassal relationship between them. At least, he wasn't keeping his end of the bargain. -1
Demanding a Silmaril, a SILMARIL, which his "friend" Finwë had DIED for, was incredibly insensitive. He could have asked for something else to get Beren to run away or die, but, no. -1
Tried to use other people to kill a man. -1
Refused to give the Silmaril back to the Fëanárions, whose grandfather, his "friend", died for it. -1
Didn't listen to his wife. -.5
Refused to take part of an alliance that, ultimately, resulted in this destruction of Doriath. He had understandable reasons, though. -.25
Adopted a cursed child. He's also part of the reason that child is cursed, but he's not directly responsible either. +1
Let refugees in, even Noldor. Granted, all the Noldor came from Nargothrond, his nephew's kingdom. Still, better than nothing. +1
Didn't listen to his wife again. -.5
Ultimately destroyed his kingdom through his actions, but not directly. -.25
Total: -2.5
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Melian - Like
Not as much of a Mary Sue as Lúthien. Melian is more like Cassandra. +1
Has a brain cell. +1
The worst thing she did, abandon Doriath, could be because she actually died. -.5
Total: 1.5
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Lúthien - Dislike
Exhibits many Mary Sue traits - impossibly beautiful, smart, clever, the best at dancing and singing, and all of her plans work, and she even manages to get the dog who stood by Celegorm through worse things to defect to her. While these aren't necessarily bad when done right, she doesn't really have a personality other than "FREEDOM!" (yes, you must imagine William Wallace) and "I really love this scruffy hobo dude". More than anything, she's BORING. -1
Disappeared to the farthest place away from Morgoth to chill with her family. Screw the rest of Beleriand. Sure I riled up Morgoth, but I don't have to deal with the consequences. -1
Total: -2
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Dior Eluchíl -
Killed some guys when it wasn't self-defense. The Dwarves were fleeing, and Beren and Dior chased them. That is, technically, murder, even if the Dwarves started it. -1
Sacrificed his kingdom for a rock. -2
Total: -2
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Eluréd and Elurín - like and pity
Died. +0
Are cute babies. +1
Total: 1
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Elwing - dislike, but also pity
Traumatized. +1
Sacrificed her kingdom for a rock. -1
Left her children at the mercy of people she believed killed her brothers, knowing that if the Fëanárions didn't get them, Morgoth would. -1
Gave the rock to her husband. +.25
Is a bird. +0
Total: -.75
#tolkien#tolkien legendarium#silmarillion#My takes#My opinions#elu thingol#Elwë Thingollo#Melian#Lúthien#Luthien#Dior Eluchíl#Eluréd#Elurín#eluréd and elurín#Elwing
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Love Her Like She Needs
༺Summary༻
Serafina gets worked up and needs to be calmed down. Astarion is always happy to help his love in any way he can.
༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)
༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, domestic discipline, spanking / impact play, bondage, gag use
༺Word Count༻ 2139
༺A/N༻ This is just self-indulgent porn. I don't even know if it's any good. Also, another fic featuring my Tav as a named character, yay!
Rain battered the tent, accented by periodic lightning strikes and peals of thunder, trapping Astarion and Serafina for the day. Mercifully, the enchanted tent was larger than it should be by looking at it, giving them plenty of space. Despite that, he could feel Sera growing more tense as their sunless traveling hours wasted away. None of their leads on ways for him to walk in the sun had paid off and it was starting to wear on her. It was a habit he’d once mocked, then gently chided her for, and these days did his best to keep her from engaging in it, the habit taking all responsibility on herself and worrying endlessly over it. She was itching to move on, next city, next possible item Gale had found in his research.
She sighed from her spot on the mattress next to him, letting her book drop to the floor of the tent. “Gods, I’m bored.” She whined, something Sera only did when she was in a certain mind state, when things were building up, threatening to overwhelm her, and she just wanted to let go. “Astarion,” she jabbed him with her finger, demanding he turn his attention from his own book.
“You’ll have to entertain yourself, darling.” He said as a warning and an invitation. Earlier, while still half-asleep, she’d pulled him into her arms and told him to drink from her since the weather had turned. Full of her blood and vitality, his body was already responding to the unspoken plea. If she needed to play, he would oblige.
“Not if I make you entertain me.” She snatched his book out of his hand with a mischievous laugh.
She was absolutely asking for it. Astarion sighed with feigned irritation, pulling his book back and setting it down next to him. “You’re being an absolute brat.” She smirked at him in answer, daring him to do something about it. “If you need to be entertained, I suppose I’ll indulge you.” She opened her mouth, no doubt about to declare victory, but he cut her off. “Bring me your hairbrush.” A special treat, he’d never used her own hairbrush on her.
“No, wait, I’m sorry.” The turn of attitude was impressive, but all part of the game.
“Oh no, my dear, sweet Serafina, it’s far too late for apologies. Hairbrush, now.” He sat up, putting his legs over the edge of the bed, a perfect spot for her to lay in.
She whimpered as she went to fetch it, making a great show of sudden remorse. Sera’s hairbrush was thick, silver plated, and wide. It was going to do wonders on her pale little bottom. Delightfully, she hadn’t gotten dressed that morning, remaining in her nightgown and a pair of thin underwear. As much as she needed the play between them, he enjoyed it, her sweet submission, the trust she placed in him, the control he had.
With the brush gleaming in the lantern lights, she stood in front of him, already nearly in tears. Theatrics, he could smell her arousal mixed with anticipation. He took it from her hand and patted his thigh. “Come on, over the knee, little love.”
“But Astarion…” She wheedled.
“You know you were asking for it,” he said, voice stern. “Pull your nightgown up too.”
Without further protest, she lay down across his thighs, bottom presented to him. “Good girl.” Reaching for the waistband of her underwear, he pulled them down, finding them already soaked, and she began to whimper. They wouldn’t have been much protection, but removing them was just the extra touch to deepen the act. Meticulously, he positioned them around her thighs, her perfect pale skin just waiting for the brush. “Count them and don’t lose track.”
Waiting, he let her anticipation build, watching her try to not shift around too much. The first strike landed, reddening her skin instantly, leaving her yelping. “One,” she managed with shaky breath.
“That’s very good.” Before the praise could sink in, he landed another blow she dutifully counted, both cheeks a blooming color.
The third took her from gasping to sobbing and she stuttered out her count through tears. Quicker than he had thought, perhaps he should go easy on her. They had agreements in place, to play certain roles to the fullest, and ways either of them could stop, but pushing too far didn’t feel right today. Besides, there were other ways to give her what she craved.
Quickening the pace, he delivered the rest of the spankings in sharp succession, barely enough space for Sera to catch her breath between them, counting despite her cries as they landed.
“Nine,” she whimpered on the tenth one, and Astarion cleared his throat. “T-ten,” she corrected quickly, was rewarded with a hand stroking her hair.
“Very good, pet,” he praised. “You took your punishment so well.” His hand traveled down her back, rubbing small circles, a short reprieve.
He finished pulling her panties off while she sniffled through more apologies, the most delightful idea playing in his mind. “On your knees on the mattress.”
“Yes, sir,” she squeaked, and he felt his cock stir at the term.
As soon as she had settled, he pulled her nightgown over her head with no explanation, leaving her shivering with expectation. Humming idly, he found the trunk that contained some of their favorite amusements, thank the gods for the magic that allowed them to carry all this. Loudly searching through it, building the tension in her, he found what he was looking for, a gag and some silken cord.
Walking back toward her, he stood silently for a moment before issuing another command. “Mouth open.”
“But why,” she protested and then inhaled sharply, worrying about another punishment.
“Because you need something constructive to occupy your time and furniture doesn’t talk.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat at his words.
Gently, he placed the bit in her mouth, and tightened the strap, feeling his own arousal growing. “Very good,” he praised, knowing she’d crave it. “Now hold out your arms in front of you and face me.”
Tears dotted her face still, and drool already ran from where the gag held her mouth open. She was gorgeously ruined, all for him. He could lose himself just looking at her, but that would ruin the fun. Pressing her wrists together, he wrapped the silken cord around them, securely binding them in position. “Perfect, stay right there.”
He watched her puzzled expression as he stripped himself and lay back on the mattress, propped up by a stack of pillows, cock visibly growing hard. Palming himself, he let out a sigh, stiffening further, ready for her. “Come here and sit on my cock love, I have something to keep you busy with.”
Gripping her hips, he helped guide her to straddling him. The moist heat of her already starting to tempt, but he couldn’t let the fun end so soon. Positioning her just right, he coaxed her down to impale herself on him.
He almost let out a groan as she settled into place, so wet and warm as she clenched around him. “Now I want you to stay perfectly still,” he balanced his book on her outstretched, bound arms, “and hold my book for me. If you behave yourself for long enough, I’ll release you. Understood.”
Sera nodded quickly, eager to appease him. But he had no intention of making it that easy. His eyes skimmed a page, never intending to read it. Reaching out to flip to the next, he slipped his fingers under the cover, rubbing against her nipple, making her whine softly. “Sensitive today, aren’t we?”
Her eyes widened at his words, realizing he wasn’t going to be fair. He would leave her waiting for the worst, though. Relaxing, he lay back, pretending to read again, really admiring the woman straddling his hips, bound and stuffed full of him. His partner, the love of his life. A few minutes later, he reached forward again, delving under the cover of the book to give her nipple a proper squeeze. Reflexively, she rolled her hips, rutting against him. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I said to stay perfectly still, pet.”
His hand slapped down on her already reddened bottom, and she made a noise around the gag. His cock twitched with all the motion. Gods, it was so tempting to just roll her over and fuck her mercilessly. “Now, try again.”
He leaned back, once again feigning reading, his cock throbbing inside her. The wait was torture for him as well, laying there with a placid face as he listened to her ragged breathing and felt her wetness dripping out around his cock to slick his pelvis. Idly, his fingers began to stroke her thigh, feeling her tense as she tried to not move. Nails gently raked along her soft skin as his fingers wandered closer to her sex.
Her thighs tightened around his hips, and he watched in delight as her eyes grew wide. One finger gently slid past her folds to stroke where she was most sensitive. Beautiful little panting sounds answered his action. He couldn’t resist grinning up at her as a second finger was added, increasing the pressure on her clit.
Despite the way her cunt clenched around him, she managed to hold still, book firmly in place. He could feel her coiled tightly, ready to come undone, and how she shuddered when he withdrew his fingers. Soon.
“Are you suffering, little love,” he cooed at her.
Whimpering around the gag, she nodded vigorously. Astarion rolled his hips, thrusting up into her, rejoicing in her desperation. Once more, he returned to the stack of pillows, more torture to play out. His finger found her clit again, rubbing slow, languid strokes along it. She was positively drenched for him, driving him nearly as mad as he had her.
“I bet you want to come, don’t you?” He teased, his one finger still giving her the most feather-light caresses. She answered with a noise, and Astarion could see more tears in her eyes, giving him pause.
“Serafina, look at me,” he commanded, forcing her eyes to his. “I asked you a question.” She nodded, an answer and a confirmation all was still well.
Sitting up fully, he began to stroke her roughly, two fingers circling her clit. His other hand reached for her breast, squeezing it and pulling and twisting her nipple. Her face was a thing of wonder as she began to fall apart with his touch. In the midst of her trembling, the book tumbled from her arms. Her eyes went wide and she froze, staring at him.
He’d had enough of playing with her though, it was time they both got what they needed. Swiftly, he rolled, pinning her and her bound arms beneath him, moaning as she instinctively pulled her legs up to her chest. Fingers digging into the skin of her hips, he fucked her with a desperate need. Soft whimpers from behind the gag told him she was close, teased beyond the point of lasting, not that he was far behind. “Come for me, love.”
Her eyes rolled back and with a desperate keening, she tightened around him, her whole body shaking slightly. Every thrust of his continued to pull little mewls from her as he relentlessly chased his own pleasure. “Gods,” he looked down and she was staring at him not with lust, but with that gaze so full of love it was hard to contemplate sometimes. That finally sent him over the edge. “Se-ra-fin-a,” he ground out, as he spilled himself inside her.
Sweat covered the both of them, and the sounds of the storm still raging outside mixed with ragged, quiet breathing. “Lesson learned,” he whispered hoarsely. Below him, she nodded, a peaceful, dreamy look on her face.
Pulling the gag off and tossing it aside, he leaned down to kiss her softly, hearing the slowing of her rapid pulse. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, heart swelling at the way she nuzzled into his neck. Would there ever be a time she didn’t have that effect on him?
Carefully he unbound her arms, cord joining the gag on the floor, concerns for later. The next steps were like a sacred ritual between them, as he cleaned her, tended to her backside, and dressed her again. “Can I have your shirt,” she asked sweetly, as though he could deny her anything. Finally, he pulled her into his arms, safe, loved, treasured, worshiped.
“I love you,” she sighed against his skin.
“I love you too,” he replied, as if those words could contain a fraction of what he felt for her. The whole of his world, in flesh and blood, placed into his arms for him to worship.
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36
Eddie’s heart thumps oddly once again, this time because Steve had used his name. He’d already become used to Eds. He ignores it and spreads his hands. “I’m willing to accept whatever you’ll give me,” he says quietly. “I’m still groveling, here, I’m not exactly in a position to be making demands.”
Steve smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and Eddie hates it. “That’s the thing, though. It’s complicated. I don’t know how to define it.”
Eddie hums. “We’re slightly to the left of best friends.”
Steve snickers. “That’s pretty spot-on, actually.”
Eddie shrugs and grins, feeling oddly proud of himself for figuring it out and making Steve smile.
They stand in silence for a minute until Alli pops her head out of the kitchen. “Are you two gonna kiss again? Or is now a good time to offer food?”
Steve snorts and pitches forward to rest his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. “Al, you’re awful.”
“You love me,” she responds immediately, grinning at Eddie.
Eddie grins back and pokes at Steve’s arm. “She’s offering us food, Stevie, I’m inclined to say yes.”
Steve chuckles before leaning back to smile at Eddie. “Yeah, alright,” he decides, “I could eat.”
Eddie reaches out, links their hands, silently offers Steve an out.
He doesn’t take it, instead grips Eddie’s hand more surely, and something in Eddie’s chest settles.
They walk into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and Steve grins and shakes his head when Alli starts cooing at them. “Yeah, okay,” he says, then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Hey, you should invite Cassidy over soon.”
Eddie looks between the siblings as they have a silent conversation mostly consisting of eyebrows and head tilts that ends with Steve grinning and Alli shaking her head, trying to hide a smile. “So,” Steve says, “what did you make?”
Alli chuckles and hops up backwards onto the counter by the stove. “Mac and cheese.”
“Ooh,” Steve says, instantly intrigued. He lets go of Eddie’s hand to peer into the pot. “With the good cheese?”
“With the good cheese,” Alli agrees.
Steve whirls around to grin at Eddie. “You’re gonna love this,” he says, “Alli makes the best mac and cheese.”
Eddie grins. “I dunno, Stevie, I think my uncle’s boxed mac might have her beat.”
Steve laughs, shaking his head as he gets three bowls out. He tilts his head towards a drawer. “There’s forks in there, can you grab some?”
Eddie does so, and just as they’re finishing serving themselves, someone opens the front door.
“Steve?” A voice calls. “You home?”
Steve sighs and puts his bowl down. “The little shit,” he mutters, moving out into the living room. “Dustin, what are you doing here?”
The answer is too quiet for Eddie to hear, so he eats his food and eyes Steve’s bowl. Alli laughs at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she says seriously, “Steve’s fought me for less.” Eddie gives her his best innocent who, me? look, and she grins at him. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble. I like you.”
His grin turns smaller, shyer. “Thank you for not kicking my ass on sight, earlier,” he murmurs.
She grins and nudges his shoulder with her fist. “Steve’s tough. He doesn’t need me to protect him.”
“Maybe,” Eddie says, “but it’s still nice to have someone in your corner.”
“Oh,” she murmurs suddenly. “I forgot.”
Eddie’s brow furrows. “Forgot what?”
“The stories. ‘Bout why you’re here, in Forest Hills, ‘stead of wherever he is.”
She says he in a way that Eddie knows she knows exactly what’s meant by those two little letters. He swallows a lump. “Yeah,” he murmurs back. “‘S why I know.”
She smiles at him. “Your… uncle, right?”
Eddie smiles back. “Yeah. Wayne. He’s… he’s pretty great.”
Alli rests a hip on the counter. “Tell me about him?”
Stomach full of food, safe and warm and happy in this house, with the sound of his maybe-boyfriend scolding his pseudo-younger brother in the other room, Eddie grins and hops up onto the counter. “Gladly.”
Towards the end of his story, Steve comes huffing into the kitchen, making a beeline for the phone. He punches a number in and waits. “Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” he says politely. “Is Robin home?” He listens for a moment, says, “Okay, thank you,” and hangs up, turning to Eddie. “What’s your number?”
Eddie blinks before grinning, and Steve good-naturedly rolls his eyes. “Not like that, you ass,” he chuckles. Eddie relents and rattles off the numbers, and Steve punches those in before waiting again. “Hi, Mr. Munson,” Steve says. Eddie mouths the words and makes a face, and Alli snorts at him. “Is Robin there still?” A pause, then, “Ah,” as his cheeks pinken. “Yes, sir. He did.” Another few seconds later, “Hey. The little shit found Dart.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.” A laugh, then, “well I’m not gonna tell him.” A squawk, “I am not his-” he cuts off abruptly and pulls the phone from his ear to frown at it. “She hung up on me!”
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#stranger things#if I should stay#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#robin buckley#platonic stobin#Allison Harrington#dustin henderson#*Spreads hands out* please accept this offering of the calm before the storm#starambles
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Granted, tumblr’s search function may broken but I can’t find a post on your blog centered on Alya’s writing. As a person constantly on the look out for critical examination of Alya’s role in the narrative and the compromises on her principles, relationships and competences made to artificially engineer the episode’s story, I’d be very interested to see your thoughts
I use Alya's writing as an example of a character done dirty all the time, but I don't think I've ever done a sugar post focused on her and I totally should. Before we get into it, I will openly admit that her bad writing bothers me more than Marinette's or Adrien's because she is best girl and we stan her. What can I say, I'm a writer whose best friend is an artist with a diagnosed anxiety disorder. I like characters who are writers and with artsy, anxiety-ridden best friends. They are my people and that gives us a great starting point for this post.
Marinette is the unambiguous main character of the show, so it makes sense to design both her hero partner and her best friend around balancing her out, giving them strengths to fill out the spots where she is weak. It's how you make a strong cast. When Alya is allowed the shine, she fills that balance role wonderfully and I love it! Some of my favorite moments are when Marinette goes on one of her rants and cool-headed Alya drags her back down to Earth:
Marinette: We're gonna stroll over there real cool as if we just happened to be passing by. Alya: Then what? Marinette: Then? I'll invite him out for a fruit smoothie at the end of the photo shoot! Then, we'll get married! Live happily ever after in a beautiful house and have two kids? No, three. And a dog! Maybe a cat? Nah, forget the cat. A hamster! I love hamsters! Alya: Let's just start with just happen to be passing by and see if we can get to that smoothie.
This banter from Stormy Weather is fantastic. It's exactly the type of thing I want to see from these two as it gives Alya a very different flavor of supporting role from Adrien. While Alya and Adrien are both card holding members of the Marinette hype squad, Alya is more of a voice of reason while Adrien is there to validate Marinette and follow her crazy schemes without question.
This brings us to the first issue with Alya's writing: when the plot demands it, they make her a gullible tabloid journalist even though it goes against everything her character should stand for. The reasons I'm comfortable saying this are many. The first one is that Alya is very clearly supposed to be seen as a serious journalist. That's why you get scenes like this one from Feast:
Alya: Now you know back in the day sculptures were painted, right? Most of the paint vanished over time, but tiny microscopic pigments still remain. Thanks to this special app, witness how it originally looked. But here's the big thing. All these works of art have something in common. It's the same symbol! Look, everywhere. It's like some kind of secret society emblem. As if a kind of Order of the Guardians has been watching over the superheroes since the beginning of time!
This scene would not exist if Alya was supposed to be the kind of person who only cared about getting blog hits because this type of content isn't where the money is. But money and clout aren't what Alya cares about. She's just a passionate reporter (or fan girl) who wants to know everything she can and who is having fun sharing her obsession with the world. This is an extremely important aspect of her character because it brings us to reason two that she clearly wasn't meant to be a clout chaser: if she was a tabloid journalist who only cared about hits, then she should have never been given a miraculous.
I could go on a rant her about how poorly Alya's blog is used after she becomes Rena Rouge, but I'll spare you the word count and just say that, as soon as she joined the team, she should have stopped sharing secrets on the blog. It makes sense that a blog would initially fill her need to share the fine details of her obsession, but once she's on the team, the blog should have been replaced by her teammates. She could still have the blog, but it shouldn't have things like the freaking guide to how the miraculous work that we see in the season four episode Gabriel Agreste:
Alya: The Miraculous are magical jewels that give powers to superheroes, like Ladybug's earrings and Cat Noir's ring. But supervillain Shadow Moth also has two Miraculousbrooches in his possession, and they will give him his powers. We can figure out from this that the Miraculous can either make a superhero or a supervillain. It's all riding on who wears it, which is why these jewels can't fall into just anybody's hands.
Alya, you are supposed to be Marinette's sole confidante at this point. Why are you giving the world this information? The writers are doing you dirty, my dear, and I'm so sorry. The best I can do is to promise to never treat you like this in my stuff.
Now, to be fair, there is some nuance to this. Alya is a human being. She's allowed to have flaws, so I can absolutely forgive her for getting caught up in the moment and posting scoops to her blog without thinking (see: Oblivio). That's honestly a great weakness for her character to have as it makes perfect sense for a fan girl to fan girl. At the same time, if you want to have a fan girl character who becomes part of the things she's a fan of, then you usually need to give that character something that will tone them down and make full fan girl mode something other than the standard setting.
Making your fan girl a serious reporter is a great way to do that! It allows you to have that initial bust of fan girl hype that quickly switches into serious get-the-details mode. Without that kind of complexity, Alya would just be another Wayhem and one Wayhem is already one too many.
While I will give Alya some grace on this topic and even call it a good thing for her character, the same cannot be said for her writing because the writers fail to embrace her hype as an in-the-moment weakness and it ruins her character. To put it another way, a lapse in judgement about posting a photo is excusable as a photo is quickly acquired and posted. A lapse in judgement about a full interview with a total rando who is claiming to be Ladybug's best friend is not excusable (see: Volpina). It's a completely different flavor of poor judgement as - at a minimum - it requires Alya to stand there talking to a person for several minutes and never once question what that person is saying. Those are not the behaviors of a good journalist.
Of course, this brings us to the most glaring example of Alya's character assassination: the Lila thing. Almost everything about this arc paints Alya as a terrible friend, which is a massive missed opportunity as Lila is the perfect antagonist for Alya! Who better to take down a liar than a truth seeker? It's such an easy way to give Alya her own mission to focus on, especially if you make Lila more subtle. You don't even need to have Alya believe Marinette without question. Just have her be an investigative journalist who is like, "You know what, this new girl clearly bothers Marinette and I know Marinette can get caught up in her own head, but it doesn't usually last this long. I think something is up, so I'm going to use my skills to see if Lila is telling the truth that way I know if I'm supporting the right person here." Don't have your character claim that she checks her sources and does research if you're going to turn around and have her believe whatever she hears without checking any of it!
Even outside of the Lila thing, I wish we saw more of Alya's research skills! They were such a good thing to give Marinette's best friend as Marinette is great at focusing on a clear task, but research is the kind of thing that would overwhelm her, so it makes perfect sense to make her best friend a researcher as that lets the team have someone to help track down whatever Gabriel is calling himself this week. The writers even understood this to some extent as we saw in Mr. Pigeon 72:
Alya: Marinette, how long have you been working on this? Ladybug: I dunno, six-seven days, maybe ten. Now that we're on spring break, I finally have time to put my whole heart into it! Alya: When was the last time you worked on one of your own designs? Ladybug: I do loads of designing! Look! (pointing to the contraption at her door) I designed a security system so that nobody can enter my room when I'm not in it. And if I put on this hat (puts on modified hat) I hear everything that's going on in here, even when I'm out of the room. Alya: I'm gonna have to break it to you because I'm the only one who can. THIS IS TOTALLY INSANE! Girl, trust your BFF. When I'm researching something obsessively and I can't think of anything else, that's when my mind can get really blocked. You know what you need most right now? A break! Ladybug: No way! No breaks until I find out how to keep Shadow Moth from reakumatizing people!
Remember who ultimately figures out how to keep Shadow Moth from reakumatizing people in this episode? Alya! Because her creative style is all about researching and looking at the evidence. You know, the classic skill set of a reporter?
I really do mean it when I say that the show has a fantastic setup for telling a good story. Alya's character should have been a perfect addition to Marinette's team. My favorite lineup is the line up from season two with Kagami and Luka in non-love-interest bonus roles that I won't get into here since it's a little too deviant from canon to make sense without explanation. Instead, I'll just give you the clear roles they perfectly set up and then squandered for the original miraculous five:
Ladybug: Battlefield commander
Rena Rouge: Big Picture Strategist (basically Marinette excels at reactive thinking/leading during a battle while Alya excels more at proactive thinking/long-term tactics)
Chat Noir: Peacekeeper/Heart/Hype Man
Carapace: Protector/Stop Button (much like Alya and Marinette, Nino and Adrien should have been two sides of the same coin with Adrien being focused on making everyone happy while Nino focuses on keeping everyone safe)
Queen Bee: Wild Card/Chaos Element (I love a good chaos element who is there to suggest the options that won't occur to people who have been raised to follow the rules.)
I'll also point out that this lineup would show that the characters weren't interchangeable and make the two main couples feel more unique and meant for each other. For example, Nino's tendency to encourage others to stay safe would pair terribly with Marinette's need to not get too caught up in her own thoughts. The second Nino second guesses one of her plans she'd fall apart, so she needs Adrien to be her Chat Noir. Similarly, Alya's impulsivity weakness would make her a terrible match for go, go, go Hype Noir! She needs a partner who makes her take two seconds to second guess herself. There was so much potential here you guys! So much potential! It could have been beautiful! Instead, we got canon...
There you go, my broad love letter to Alya. I could keep going, but you didn't request a specific topic, so I'm just going to end it there. Feel free to ask for more, but please do it in another ask as this is already super long and - out of kindness to my followers- I try to avoid essay after essay on the same post unless they really need to be connected.
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You Know What He Deserves? Dessert!
Summary: It’s Ghost’s birthday and you have agreed to become his dessert for the night.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Warnings: semi-pwp, gender neutral reader, dom!Ghost, minor force feeding, creampie, degradation, dirty talking, food play, sploshing, minor food insertion, anal sex.
Word count: 1,365 words
NSFW. MDNI!
a/n: This is very nasty so please proceed with caution lol. Feedback and suggestions are always appreciated, along with reblogs and likes. Thank you for reading! ❤️
This is a corresponding story to You Know What I Deserve? Dessert!
Everyone loves Ghost, so they give him a lot of cakes for his birthday.
Both of you held a birthday dinner for him. Ghost only agreed to invite Task Force 141 and no one else, so you agreed with him. But then, every member of the squad brought him a birthday cake to his party. Even Soap brought him two birthday cakes and a box of cupcakes for his beloved lieutenant, and now, you didn't know what you supposed to do with that much cake because there's no way you and Ghost could finish them all yourselves.
The birthday dinner itself went well and everyone had a great time together. As the night went on, it was nearly midnight, everyone began to say their goodbyes and thank both of you for the party. Now, you're left with a bunch of birthday cakes - most of them are still untouched on the dining table. There's no way they could all fit in the fridge, you think to yourself. Even if you decided to keep them in the fridge, it would take at least a month for both of you to finish everything.
“Ghost, what do you want me to do with all these cakes? Do you want to keep them all? Because there’s no way we could eat all of them and it wouldn’t fit in the fridge” you said to him while he’s currently scooping one of the cake’s frosting with his finger. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, still preoccupied with the cake and frosting, before finally replying to you.
“Why don’t you take all your clothes off?” he said in a monotone voice.
You're taken aback by his words as you weren't expecting him to say something quite like that. “What?” you said to him, raising your eyebrows in confusion.
“I said take all of your clothes off. Now.”
Now you know he means business, because he wouldn't normally speak to you in that demanding tone unless he was dead serious. So, obey him, you didn’t know what he wants from you at this point but his voice alone turns you on already. You stripped all of your clothes off, including your underwear until you are completely naked.
“Ghost, if you want sex, let’s clean this all up first and then we can move to the bedro—” you didn’t manage to finish your sentence as Ghost suddenly shove a handful of cake to your mouth with his hand. You’re perplexed by his action as you didn’t expect him to do something like this.
He shoved the entire cake on his hand into your mouth, pushing it with his fingers making you nearly choke on it. You gagged as he keeps pushing the cake with his fingers to the back of your throat. He thrusted his fingers continuously and he doesn't stop pushing cake into your mouth until you swallow it all. You’re both really confused and turned on by his action.
Ghost always has a sweet tooth and an appetite for you. He decides to indulge in both on his birthday.
He grabbed another handful of cake and starts smearing them on your face and your neck, and then grabbed another and starts smearing them to your chest and your stomach, basically covering half of your body with chocolate cake and its frosting.
“Ghost, what the fuck?” you finally said something to him, you’re absolutely confused at this point, unsure of why he’s doing this to you as he’s still busy smearing the cake on your body.
“Shhh, shut up and let me enjoy my dessert” he purred as he starts licking the cake from your face,languidly, sending shivers down to your spine. You didn’t know he’s into this kind of fetish as he never seems to show any interest in anything besides vanilla sex. But you didn’t care about it at this point as you lost in the pleasure of him licking the sweet dessert from your neck and nibbling them with his mouth.
He slowly moves down to your chest and starts sucking on your chocolate-covered nipples, you let out a soft moan from your lips. His experienced tongue starta licking your sensitive buds over and over again until it’s clean from the cake.
But he suddenly stops licking your body, leaving you wanting more. He suddenly took of his clothes, exposing his beautiful muscular body to you as you can see his cock is already hard and dripping with precum. The sight was absolutely delightful to your eyes.
“Get down on the floor, face down, ass up. I’m gonna fuck your brains out tonight” as he grabbed a handful of buttercream frosting from another cake and starts smearing it on his cock, using them as a lube.
On the back of your mind, you think that this is so fucking disgusting and it’s really unlike him to act like this. But at the same time, it’s so exciting as you’re curious what he’s going to do with you, so you obey his command, getting into the position you’re told to.
“I’m gonna stretch your hole real good today, slut” as he starts tapping his shaft on the entrance of your asshole, smearing it with buttercream. Preparing you for what’s to come as he slowly sliding the tip inside of you. You could feel your hole starts being stretched by his thick, veiny cock. The buttercream made it easier for him to starts thrusting inside of you over and over again.
“Fuck! Oh my fucking god!” you let out a loud scream from his action. You could feel your hole stretched thin as he keeps fucking you mercilessly. Your body is so sticky from the cake and its frosting and at this point you’re trying so hard not to slip on the floor because how slippery it becomes from the mixture of the frosting and your sweat
“So. Fucking. Tight.” he growls in a low, deep tone as he fucks you like you’re his little fuck toy that he can use whenever he pleases. His grip on your hips is so strong that you're sure it's going to bruise tomorrow.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” you moan loudly, you could feel your hole stings from the buttercream and you body is starting to feel as if it's going to split in half. It was painful but it was so fucking good at the same time. You never imagined you’re going to be fucked like this before, you feel so depraved, your morals leaving your body, yet you succumb to the intense pleasure Ghost is giving you.
You can’t stop moaning lewdly as Ghost keeps pounding you. Suddenly, he takes one of the cupcake that Soap brought today and starts forcing it inside of your mouth, silencing you immediately.
“You’re a real loud bitch, aren’t you? Now, shut up and take my cock quietly, you fucking cunt” he growls next to your ear, you could only nod to his words, nearly chocking on the cupcake at the same time.
You could feel his thrusts starting to become sloppier and his member starts to twitch inside of you. At the same time, you could feel your orgasm is approaching as well. It only takes a few more thrusts as he finally came inside of you, filling you up with his thick creamy cum. Both of you came at the same time, you could feel your vision starts to blur as you hit that sweet, sweet release.
Ghost finally pulled his cock out from you. “So fucking beautiful” he mutters to himself as he’s admiring as the concoction of his cum and melted buttercream oozing out from your now raw, stretched hole.
You plop yourself to the side because of exhaustion, gasping for air as you spit out some of the remaining cupcake from your mouth. Ghost lies next to you and starts to caress your hair slowly.
“You good?” he said in a loving tone, concerned that he might have overstepped your limit. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath, but you nod at his words.
“Next time you see Soap, tell him that the cupcake he brought tastes like shit.”
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Wakfu OVA - Book 1, The Throne of Ice [PART 1]
"Finally, we have arrived to one of my most favorite parts of Wakfu... The OVAs!" <- If I said this, I would be locked up in a psyhiatric ward forever, however, there is some truth to that.
I am a big fan of uhh the bits of the second OVA that have Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham in them. Sadly, Book 1 is not that OVA. It will have Sipho posing as Joris, and, well... that's the next best thing, ain't it? At least we'll get to analyse if he's doing a good job or not.
Ecaflip demigod memory retention deniers will be like "Ush being a core member of a powerful cult at 9-10yo for multiple reincarnations is normal".
Anyway, group chats are real in this setting. And Harebourg is their discord mod I think.
Tot I'm begging you to elaborate on this, what do you MEAN by this, what do you—
STOP USING GRIMALKINE SISTERS BEING A PART OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE FORGOTTEN AS A FLEX ON THE HATERS! I'M SCARED!
youtube
Them in the Great Wave manga when they show up and say they're at fault for Jahash and Julith's whole shtick or whatever.
Ughh.
Le meilleur journal qu'il est -
boufboul
[cant make out the rest]
little text in the corner: fji de ij
Ngl considering the fact that the King of Bonta dies within the next two years, he might have a legitimate reason not to come: being in the process of dying.
They LOVE Joris in this kingdom.
I bet real Joris would like to remain silent because, uh., lying is bad? If he tries to say the situation isn't as shitty as it seems, it might seem condescending.
So, Sipho fails at being in-character moment counter: 1. Joris would not say shitfuck here.
Oh my god... His fangs... His blush... His eyes...
One of the things I really like about the OVAs are the changes to Joris's design. While yes, like most people I miss the finer details of the previous seasons — but his new design is more sleek, and a bit more... catlike. It takes a lot of inspiration from his Aux Tresors design.
It is not the intention of the authors, but the fact that he is drawn with a mouth makes sense on a character level: he is more understandable and human than he was in the first two seasons. While he used to be a mystery back then, now he is a friend to the Brotherhood of Tofu, — and, to us, the viewers, he's just a guy.
Anyway, there is a big question here — while it seems obvious that other nations are involved — Sadida wouldn't invite other politicians to this meeting, if them seizing the Eliatrope Dofus was a secret, — just how involved were other nations? Was it mainly a Bonta-Sadida project which they let others know about? Were others interested up until the moment the Dofus were stolen, and is it the reason nobody showed up?
It seems kinda too obvious to state, however: Guys, this confirms that Joris and Harebourg are enemies.
Though, let's be real, all three of the Crepin-Jurgens are kind of opposed to the Brotherhood of The Forgotten. The trio is very... god-neutral? The outlook those three have is more of optimistic-nihilism — "the gods suck sometimes, life does too, but whatever. I need to restock the store and eat a soup, why should I ruminate on this." instead of "WE NEED TO KILL AND DETHRONE GODS IMMEDIATELY", which... creates a bit of friction.
Something to note is that Joris and the Kingdom of Bonta were involved with hiding the Dofus.
So, the Dofus disappearing, the proposition, and the condition that Amalia should be accompanied only by the Brotherhood of Tofu, are already both a political incident in on themselves, and a bunch of red flags stacked together.
Just listen: the property of a nation (the Eliatropes), which was in custody of a different nation, and can be used to save a kingdom, was stolen by a different kingdom to unlawfully demand marriage and unification of two kingdoms.
If real Joris was here, I'm sure he would be quietly having a panic attack about the fact that there may be spies in Bonta, and that Harebourg was able to do this without, let's say, knocking him out after he got all the Dofus and stealing them.
So, Sipho fails at being in-character moment counter: 2. Joris would be having a quiet panic attack, and pointing out just how fucked this is. just how fucked this is.
Sipho fails at being in-character moment counter: 3. At this moment, real Joris would come in, and say "YUGO THIS IS FUCKED!! Anyway we are going to beat Harebourg to death when we get there. I didn't want to say anything objectionable because Amalia would be sad."
He already did that in the manga. When Amalia and Eva asked him about his real opinion on Jiva getting the six Dofus.
While I think that Joris is someone who very much believes that the leaders of this world make hard decisions — and for this reason he MUST keep doing war crimes in Waven times to keep Bonta afloat, he MUST keep eating pig people and using slave labour and making explosive devices out of crackler babies, because really, 90% of war criminals quit just before true peace and prosperity—-
But, Joris is canonically enough of a feminist to be 100% pro-"pregnant women on a ship during a dangerous adventure across the world", so I think that outweighs his sense of "greater good".
In my opinion, he is more likely to think "very evil of you Harebourg, to force a woman into a relationship using the lives of her subjects. You're SICK, you're SICK, you have NO sense of romance or how a person should be treated!" and say "ughh we need to beat him up for this, Yugo. This isn't a very good deal for the Sadida. He's holding them hostage, Yugo. My main concerns are definitely not the way Amalia is being treated as an object but the political implications of that, Yugo."
Sipho literally committing character assassination out here. I will count this as the 4th time he does that.
Adamai is still very pissed off about Joris not asking before taking the Dofus. I think Joris deserves this quip very much. I wish Joris could hear Adamai be a hater towards him.
Sipho fails at being in-character moment counter: 5.
At this moment, instead of ignoring Adamai and continuing to talk, real Joris would make a funny face that implied he is in mortal pain due to someone he likes making a snide remark about him.
He is shown to be very much ashamed and worried about the fallout this will bring to his relationship with Yugo and Adamai in OVA 2.
Huppermages already did this, and it kind of failed when Ogrest's Chaos hit.
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