#Forgive me if this is incoherent I just had a 3 hour meeting that melted my brain a bit

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Pac: Even our characters, right? The main colors are blue and green. It's all connected. Everything's Pac Mike.

Something something yeah cubito Fit and Pac are roommates in every universe but no matter the universe Tazercraft are each other's before anyone else's

[bratdesire]

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine​ for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you. 

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. 

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be. 

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she? 

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. 

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.” 

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.” 

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?” 

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible. 

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him. 

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease. 

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face. 

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair. 

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other. 

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. 

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans. 

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks. 

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need. 

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game. 

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce. 

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his. 

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him. 

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond. 

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue. 

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.” 

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room. 

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin. 

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make. 

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you. 

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices. 

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see. 

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy. 

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples. 

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching. 

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore. 

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end? 

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more. 

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse. 

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck. 

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

[btshodown]

Monachopsis

↳ “It’s been said that if you truly love something, you must set it free and if it comes back it is yours. If it doesn’t….well then it was never meant to be. You just never thought you’d be the one being set free; let alone never remembering who had let you go to begin with.”

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jimin Genre/Warnings: Royal AU | Angst + Mild Smut | Mentions of blood, head trauma and attempted murder. Implied unprotected sex, implied virgin reader and virgin Namjoon, brief mentions of oral (f receiving) Word Count: 9k+

➭ Monachopsis n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you’d be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.

AN: Please forgive me for having this 2 weeks late :’) I just got over a really bad sinus infection, but I am happy to finally have this finished! Its been a while since I’ve posted so it feels nice to have this out. Thank you @personawife​ for giving me a chance at being in this collab and also allowing me an extension. <3 Please let me know how it turned out ^^

Namjoon knew growing up that his time with you was ticking down, like grains of sand falling slowly down the hourglass; but he was content. He cherishes those times in the stables where status didn't matter and you weren't Princess __; where he wasn't the stable boy training to take over the royal family's steeds and instead he was simply your best friend. He remembers vividly the fluttering in his heart and the excitement at seeing your cherub face grinning mischievously at him whenever you would sneak out to play with him.

 The pair of you would spend afternoons together, riding or finding different games to play. Letting the hours pass as the sun would slowly descend, alerting you that it was time to once again become Princess __. Namjoon never voiced it out, never daring to hurt you, but those times you left and he was reminded of his place, he hated it to the core. Even as young as he was, his father never failed to remind him that one day you would grow up and leave him. Innocence could only linger for so long and your friendship would surely fade. 

 But you were never one to follow rules or care for social standing. It was your stubborn persistence in seeing him and keeping your friendship intact that allowed you two to grow together. He still remembers the vow you made to him by the lake, the serious expression on your baby face looking out of place as you promised to never forget him or your bond. He remembers feeling like he could spread wings and fly high with how happy he felt.

 But then slowly as the years passed he realized his first mistake. Seeing you grow as puberty hit you both began changing your dynamic. His heart no longer fluttered innocently.

 The baby fat began to leave your face as your body developed, your dresses began to fit you snugly in places he never believed he'd be staring at. Suddenly, his eyes couldn't stop from gazing at your lips, wondering if they'd feel nice molded against his. Each accidental graze of skin or fleeting glance had his heart beating loudly in his ears as his skin felt electric. 

 Suddenly, he realized that he wanted to play with you in a different way.

 Little did he know that he was oblivious to your own lingering stares of longing, to your quiet sighs of imagining what his lips would feel like on your skin. He was much too preoccupied watching you grow that he missed how he was growing himself; shoulders becoming broader, thighs getting thicker, jaw becoming defined, voice deepening and his height making it so that he towered over you now. 

 So into his sadness of knowing that a relationship between you two was impossible he was that he missed your determination growing with each meeting. He was always the more timid one and he will always be grateful for your relentless persistence because it was the only reason why things turned out the way they did. He knew that if it had been up to him, you would have truly become the princess your parents expected you to be.

 But you had other plans and by some power that you possessed as the only heir, you got your way. Suddenly, you had come to him with a wide grin and threw yourself into his arms to steal his breath as your lips touched his. Never mind the fact that he had no idea you even returned his affections, but what had his mind spinning was the fact that you knew he loved you. Your delicate laugh was your only answer as he had sputtered incoherently that day, wondering how you knew, why you suddenly decided to let him know and just overall what. 

 He will never forget your warm smile as you got on your toes to encircle your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to once more steal his breath away and trace his lips with your own. He remembers his love for you growing as you explained how you convinced your parents, the king and queen, to either let you choose your own suitor or prepare to lose you. Of course they gave you what you wanted; you were their only child as the king had gone infertile after having you. They couldn't possibly bare to lose you.

 And so the best years of Namjoon's life began, even if your relationship couldn't be publicly announced, he didn't care. He spent his older teen years and early twenties wrapped in your smiles, laughs, kisses and hugs. Of course, within the first year he also got to experience the pleasure of being wrapped between your arms and legs for the first time; his heart felt like it would explode when it first happened. 

 He can still remember that day by the lake as he had brought you on a surprise picnic, sitting on the blanket you gifted him as a child with a spread of meats and cheeses. It started with innocent intentions, although he should have known your intentions were anything but as you cheekily revealed you sneaked out a bottle of wine. A couple of glasses and your sultry gaze boring holes into his face later, you had more or less jumped him. His surprise was swallowed by your eager kisses and his hesitance melted as your delicate fingers hungrily ran through his hair and shoulders.

 If someone asked him before what he thought euphoria was, he would have instantly said riding a horse through an open field as the air cut through him was it. That answer changed on that day. 

 His love for you exceeded what he believed was his limit; he wanted to be wrapped in you forever. With every little sigh and moan you let out that evening, his passion grew and all he could think about was finding new ways to make those wanton noises grow. Innocence left both of you that day and as the first year went by, you became bolder with your public affection. It was no secret among the kingdom anymore on who had your heart and body, but you had no care. 

 He truly let himself believe this was his forever. That he had finally reached his true euphoria and his life ahead seemed so clear like the path before him as he lagged behind on his stallion, watching you fondly ahead of him on your own steed. It was a slow day in the kingdom, all of your studies were finished for the day and you bemoaned to him on how long it's been since you two had gone on a ride. Of course he couldn't deny your request; his first mistake on this day.

 "Joonie!" 

 His reverie is broken as he realizes you stopped ahead waiting for him to catch up, a certain adventurous twinkle in your eye that he knew was up to no good. 

 "Yes love?"

 The twinkle grew as did your grin. "If I told you I wanted to explore the unmarked mountainside, would you deny me?"

 He should have told you no. Should have given you your first denial from him. Should have urged you to let go of your curiosity. But he didn't. 

 "You know I can't deny you." His second mistake.

 "I love you," your breath leaves you in your excitement as you bring your steed closer to him to lean over and peck his lips. "I'm spoilt because of you, I hope you know."

 His laugh has your grin widening as he prompts his stallion to begin walking again. "I do know and sometimes I wonder if I should start denying you."

 "Maybe you should stop wondering," you throw a smirk over at him as you tense your muscles, getting ready to do something reckless, "after all, if I'm happy then you know later on you will be too."

 So distracted by your wink and obvious filthy hinting he is that he's slow to react as you poke your stallion on the side with your boot; letting out a loud "yah!" as dust kicks around you before darting off. His own steed impatiently stomps the ground, eager to follow his companion and stretch his legs; but a deep rooted feeling of dread clutches at Namjoon's stomach suddenly. What's wrong with him? Why did it feel like the grim reaper itself is holding his body hostage, grinning maniacally behind him as he watches your figure get smaller and smaller? 

 It isn't until he realizes he can no longer see you that he's left you on your own and his heart plummets. His body reacts quickly as he whips the reigns, letting his stallion let out a neigh before darting after you. The feeling of the wind cutting through him no longer brings him comfort as his eyes frantically gaze around the forest, easily guiding his horse to jump, side step and run straight through any obstacles as the trees begin to crowd around him. He couldn't pinpoint why he suddenly felt so panicked, with the dread wrenching in his gut the more time passed without seeing you. He just knew he had to get to you before something happened.

 Letting you leave him behind was his third and final mistake.

 The following minutes are the worst of his life, the fear and anxiety pool into his lungs as he finally starts to shout your name. The forest was much too quiet and the fact that even the animals made no noise should have alerted him that something wasn't quite right. 

 "NAMJOON!"

 His heart stops beating and his blood fills with ice as your shriek pierces his eardrums; your stallion neighing in panic in the distance has his body moving swiftly to try and locate you. It's with horror he suddenly remembers his father warning him a fortnight ago about sightings of assassins lurking the outskirts of the kingdom, but he foolishly believed them to be rumors. What a fool he was.

 "___!! Love! Come toward my voice!"

 The pounding of hooves and your labored panting has his heart soaring as you break through the trees, looking relatively unharmed except for the shallow cut to your cheek. The moment your eyes meet his, they begin pooling with tears as you let out a sob and babble incoherently on what transpired. But he's quick to maneuver himself behind you in time to block an arrow aimed at your back; his own grunt of pain has you sobbing louder. 

 His breath stutters as he looks down at the arrow sticking out of his shoulder and with a hiss he breaks the end, leaving the rest inside to deal with later. "Love, look at me," your cries drown him out and he reaches over to clutch your shaking hands, your watery eyes finally meeting his, "listen to me carefully okay __? You need to ride as fast as you can back home and don't look back. Do you understand me?"

 The sound of war cries and pounding hooves comes closer to you two, prompting Namjoon to pant out in exertion from his wound and clench your hand tighter. He was frightened and he had no clue how to fix this, but he needed to keep you safe.

 "J-Joonie I can't...I-I," another sob cuts through you as your eyes stare at the blood quickly staining his beige shirt, turning the material a murky maroon.

 "Do you understand me __?" His voice is stern and he realizes he's never spoken to you this way, but his desperation is clawing at his throat as the assassins grow closer. He's running out of time.

 Your eyes meet his again and with a shuddering breath, you bite your cheek and nod. Namjoon doesn't let you reach for him, instead letting your hand go to slap your stallions behind, having it lift to its hind legs before darting off toward the bottom of the mountainside. His heart clenches as he ignores your cry of his name when you realize he's stayed behind, but he had to find a way to stall them so that you could make it out. 

 With another hiss he clutches at his bleeding shoulder and steers his horse in the opposite direction you went, fooling the men behind him in the wrong path. Despite not riding the mountainside in years, he still remembers parts of it from his childhood, hoping the memories were enough to guide him into confusing the assassins. 

 It would have worked. But he failed to see and hear a lone archer following your path by foot.

 His breathing is labored as he tries his hardest to dodge the arrows cutting through the air, maneuvering his stallion in tight turns and twists. It isn't until he coerces his horse to jump over a deep cut in the mountain that he's confident he's lost the men behind him, even looking behind him with heavy breathing as he doesn't see anyone following him anymore. 

 Hope rises in him along with worry as he clicks his tongue for his steed to continue its run down the mountain to catch up to you. His confidence in you to follow his direction was too high and he was a fool for believing you'd be too terrified to let your usual persistence come to light. But he realizes this day was filled with too many instances in which he is wrong. 

 Namjoon can finally see the break in the trees that lead to the clearing you two were at earlier and his hope rises. Until he catches a glint of metal in his peripheral, turning quickly to realize a lone man hidden behind the trees and aiming his arrow to something in the clearing. The grim reaper cackles behind him again as it's with dawning horror he sees you on your stallion out in the clearing, dutifully waiting for his return. 

 The next few seconds are simultaneously the slowest and fastest of his life as he pushes his horse to run to the archer, praying to any entity out there that he can get there in time. With a yell he guides his stallion to push the man, but his heart stills as the arrow still manages to get thrown. He pays no heed to the yells of the assassin below as his horse's hooves stomp onto his body, no; he was too frozen as he hears your stallion let out a yelp of pain. It's as if time slows to a crawl as he watches your steed rear back onto its hind legs from being shot and your body easily being flung back, crashing onto the ground below with a deafening thud.

 Namjoon's heart hammers inside of his ears as he watches your horse run away in fear and leaves your unmoving body on the floor. Time moves swiftly again as he jumps off his stallion, his eyes misting over in panic.

 "No no no no," his voice wavers as he runs to your body, knees falling to the ground next to you as he quickly gathers you into his arms, "please ___ wake up for me love."

With shaking fingers, Namjoon presses them to the side of your neck and breathes a sigh of relief at the soft pulse; but the wetness he feels on the hand holding your neck makes him pause. His breath hitches as he sees the alarming amount of crimson covering his hand and it's with desperation wrapping around his heart he realizes he needs to take you to the royal medic. His throat clenches in panic as the blood seeps into his sleeve as he tries his hardest to gently lift you in his arms. 

 With a whistle his horse comes quickly and Namjoon is careful to lift both of you onto his steed, maneuvering your head to rest on his shoulder, hoping to dear god that it'll help to stop the blood. He swallows thickly as he begins the trek back home, feeling his shirt get wetter by the second with your and his own blood. Despite the riding jostling the tip of the arrow still in his shoulder, Namjoon grits his teeth and looks down upon your too pale face. 

 "You will be fine love," his voice wavers and it prompts him to swallow again to try to push back the tears stinging his eyes, "I swear you will be okay and then we can go down by the lake like you love to do, yeah? You will forget about this day and it'll be nothing more than a nightmare. In a few years I bet you won't even remember this day. You will be okay." He couldn't tell anymore on who he was reassuring, but he continues to whisper affirmations to your quiet form as the kingdom begins to show in the distance. 

 He should have known, however, that fate was a cruel mistress and her sense of humor was twisted; she'd give you exactly what you asked for.

From the moment he let you leave him behind at the mountainside all those days ago, Namjoon should have realized that the final grains of sand were falling on his hourglass. The queen and king had suddenly refused to let him see you after he brought you in to the healer. He hadn't been given permission to stay by your side while you recovered from the head trauma, or even as his own wound was treated. The days passed and his heart ached with each reminder that he couldn't see how you were doing or what your diagnosis is. He longed to hold you and drop kisses all over your face in hopes of rousing you from your coma; anything to stifle the worry lodged in his heart. 

Were you doing okay? Had you woken up yet? Was there any permanent damage? Did they ever catch the rest of the assassins? Did they ever find the body of the one his stallion stomped to death? 

So many questions were left unanswered and with each day that passed with him in the dark it left his heart to slowly break. He knew your parents were not happy with the decisions you made regarding him and he wasn't foolish enough to think they approved or even favored him. He never formally met them for goodness sake and they weren't even the ones to inform him on not being given permission to see you, it was their personal guard stationed outside your room. 

 So when that same guard came to him to fetch him for a meeting with the king and queen, he knew nothing good would come from it. The pit in his stomach clued him in on it as it grew with each step he took to the hearing room. 

 "Their majesties will see you now."

 His stomach is tied in knots as the guard lifelessly opens one of the grand doors, looking as if he wasn't sending Namjoon to something that would undoubtedly affect his life. There was no denying that this had to be about you. How could it not be? He knew he would be held responsible for letting you get hurt and it was his morals that made him agree, but it was his love for you that knew he wouldn't be able to handle the punishment. 

 "Do you know why you are here today, boy?"

 The fact that the king refused to say his name was not lost on him. Nor was the poorly concealed anger behind his visage. 

 "Yes, your majesty."

 The queen held her emotions far more impressively than her husband and it was her leveled eyes that made his anxiety that much worse. She was too controlled. She resembled you too much in physique, or rather you resembled her, and seeing such a cold look on her was unsettling. 

 "I will not bother with pointless words as we all know what happened on that day," her almost bored tone made his skin crawl, he knew it was all a ruse. "To put it bluntly, our daughter has woken up, but her memories are gone."

 No. This was a lie. Surely it was? Just how much had you forgotten? You remembered him, he was sure of it. Desperate for it. His mouth felt incredibly dry in that moment and he swore ice began to engulf his heart.

 "She does not remember anything past the age of 9. The healer deems her memories resurfacing a lost battle."

 The grand room felt much too small suddenly and Namjoon's legs felt weak, his blood feeling much too icy in his veins. He was sure he stumbled in his spot as the king and queen gave him measured looks of satisfaction at knowing he knew where this meeting was going. He didn't need to guess what his punishment would be, no, not with their smug aura radiating off of them. 

 Namjoon had met you when you were 10 and he was 12, when your first riding lessons began. 

 You didn't remember him.

 "You failed at protecting our only heir and resulted in having her permanently injured. All her teachings and lessons are gone; she will need to be educated again. Do you realize the severity of the situation, boy?"

 The ground felt as if it left his feet and his heart sounded much too loud in his ears, too paralyzed to nod or even attempt to move his mouth. All he could do was stare at the bottom of their thrones, hands clenched behind his back as he mechanically began to lower to his knees. He missed how the queen put a hand on her husband's arm before standing, gracefully making her way down to where Namjoon kneeled. 

 "We were kind to you and our daughter before," her flowing silk dress was now in his line of vision as she stood before him, "we allowed her to continue this frivolous relationship of yours despite our better judgements. So you can understand our anger, surely?"

 His mouth moved without his permission, tone strained. "Yes, your majesty."

 "Now, by all means we should have you thrown in the dungeons for allowing such harm onto our only heir, but I feel pity for you. Though I should not, I want to offer you a boon." 

 His nails painfully bite into his skin as he swallows to be rid of the treacherous tears trying to fall; he wasn't fooled. He knows what she is about to offer is no boon.

 She continues despite his agonized silence. "While you are prohibited from ever trying to help our daughter regain her memories or attempt to court her again, I will, however, let you continue being our stable boy." The queen holds onto her fan and using the end of it, she gently lifts Namjoon's chin so that he is now looking at her expressionless face. "Quite a gracious boon, is it not?"

 It was in that moment that Namjoon knew what true hatred felt like and despite his mouth forming the words of his acquiescence, his heart was burning with the intensity of his fury. He could never understand how someone so kind and so selfless could have been born by the person standing before him. He knew that this woman never felt an inkling of love in her heart. 

 "Should you disobey, you will be banished from our kingdom." Her fan leaves his chin as she uncaringly glides back over to her throne, her interest no longer on the broken man she left. "You are dismissed."

 As Namjoon stands and bows before making his leave, he feels his soul withering within him. Would he prefer to never see you again or be painfully reminded every time that you are no longer his?

 With an echoing thud the grand door closes behind him as the top half of his hourglass is completely empty. He just never realized that he would never get a chance at turning it to continue letting the grains fall for a second time.

Despite not knowing more than half of your life, you felt as if you were navigating life just fine. Your muscle memory kicked in a lot for most of your forgotten lessons, much to your parents’ relief; although they refused to let you try horseback riding. For good reason it seemed, as that is how you now have a scar on the back of your head; hidden by your hair, save for the moments in which you can't help your fingers moving back to tentatively trace it. 

In just a few months, your parents were proud to announce to the neighboring kingdoms that you were ready to begin meeting suitors. Your rehashing of forgotten lessons took less time than they imagined and their plans to have you marry a prince are once again underway. You thought it odd that you were barely being matched when usually you heard the suitors began when a princess turns 18; you were much older than that from what they told you. 

 Your confusion never made it past your lips, knowing your questions would be evaded expertly by your mother. There were many questions brought up and many of them remained as such, your mother easily dismissing your perplexity. After she raised her voice at you when you questioned why you couldn't at least attempt to ride a horse again, you gave up in fear of being yelled at again. Your mother never yelled at you from the few memories you still had. 

 So here you were, in your finest dress the seamstress handcrafted for you, your hair styled perfectly, makeup immaculate, and the best jewelry decorating your frame as you met prince after prince. You couldn't begin to describe the nauseous feeling in your stomach, nor the way your heart clenched uncomfortably. You figured it was nerves as each prince seemed just as bland as the last. 

 You knew your parents frustration was growing as your face remained passive with each suitor presented to you, no matter how handsome or well-mannered they were. As much as you tried to envision yourself giving one of them a chance, neither of them ever managed to make you blush or even have your heart flutter. They just...lacked something. You were frustrated with yourself as well for not knowing what it was that bothered you so.

 "___, dear," your head turns as your mother gracefully walks over to you, her hand daintily letting go of the skirt of her dress as she gently pushes a man in front of you. "This is prince Jimin of the Vesta kingdom, surely you remember him from those balls we used to take you as a girl."

Your eyes flicker to the man standing by your mother's side, noting with surprise that his name niggles in the back of your mind, in a memory you surely thought was gone. The blurry image of a young boy when you were 7 comes to your mind, faintly remembering practicing your curtsey as this event had been your first. The image of an eye smile fades as you gaze into the eyes of not a boy, but a man now. His silver hair stands out against his tanned complexion, perfectly swept to the side to showcase his forehead as his plump lips pull into a timid smile and what takes you aback is how he smoothly takes your hand and let's his lips brush against your knuckles. 

 "It is a pleasure to see you again princess ___." He rises from his slight bow, though he keeps a light hold on your hand as his gloved thumb gently sweeps across the back of your hand. His stare and the motion seemed too intimate. "Pardon if this might be too forward, but you truly grew up to be such a beautiful woman."

 Much too gob smacked to respond, your mother decides to let out a quiet, satisfied hum as she opens up her fan dramatically, gently flicking her wrist to create a small gust of wind. "Well, I shall leave you two to it. Please look after my daughter well Jimin."

 "Of course," he replies without so much as a glance to your mother, his smile sweet and eyes crinkling as he keeps his gaze on your face. 

 It is the soft clicks of your mother's heels that bring you out of the trance the man before had you in and it's with a small breath of frustration you let out that you begin walking toward the terrace located to your left. The nerve of him to assume that just because you met when you were younger and he called you beautiful that he'd suddenly won your hand. There is no denying that he was the most handsome man out of all the princes you met and truly the most charismatic, but...your heart just wasn't in it. 

 It's as you step outside and look out into the open fields your family owned, that you feel him come to your side. With a frown you make it known you are not particularly in the mood to engage with him, resolutely walking ahead to rest your hands on the banister. A soft laugh is muffled behind you as prince Jimin once again attempts to speak with you, leaning against the banister as well. Only his eyes aren't sweeping across the open fields as yours are, you instead feel them tracing your face. 

 "My apologies if I offended you in some way ___." Your body tenses as his gloved hand gently rests atop of your right hand. "Rest assured that it wasn't my intention to do so."

 Must he be so kind? Were he pompous like the other princes you met, ignoring him would be much easier, but despite your ill temper, you couldn't bring yourself to be cruel to him. If you were being honest with yourself, it was no one's fault that you felt so disconnected, so...ill-fitted in your own skin. Despite your parents reassuring you that your lost memories didn't hold anything of importance, your heart and body heavily refused to believe it. If nothing of importance was forgotten, then why did you feel as if there was something missing in your life? 

 "Don't apologize," your sigh hangs in the air between you as you finally move your head to lock eyes with the man beside you. "It isn't your fault for my sour mood. I just…," your eyes glance away from his as they once more return to the fields below, searching for something to come out of them. You couldn't understand why such disappointment filled you when they remained empty.

 His warmth suddenly surrounds your right arm as he boldly steps closer to you, chest nearly brushing against your shoulder. "Forgive me if this is intrusive...but is it due to your amnesia?" At your wide-eyed gaze he's quick to reassuringly squeeze the hand he had yet to remove from atop of yours. "Your mother, the queen, she told me of your accident earlier."

 Anger burns in your veins as you quickly snatch your hand from his and step back, hating yourself for feeling guilty as his expression turns remorseful. Old acquaintance or not, you refused to let him know that his eyes were affecting you this much. 

 "It is intrusive and I won't forgive you for feeling entitled enough to ask me such a thing." Tears of frustration gather at your lashes; it isn't fair that you're the only one left in the dark about your own life. "My mother was wrong for telling a story that is not her own. I do not care if we met when we were younger prince Jimin; you are still a stranger to me."

Jimin truly looks remorseful for his prying, but to his credit he doesn't try reaching out for you again, he only bows and places a hand above his heart. "You are right and I'm sorry. It was not proper of me to speak of your life so frivolously."

 Truly this man was much too perfect for his own good and it's with bitterness you realize that you have already forgiven him. Your body sags slightly as you let out another sigh, once more gazing out into the green fields with longing. It isn't until you see a white gloved hand appear in your vision, palm facing up in an offer, that you glance back at Jimin and see a soft, sad smile. 

 "I understand if you would like to reject my offer as well Princess, but may I make up for my blunder with dinner tomorrow?" 

To this day, you aren't sure what made you place your hand in his and agree to let him take you out. As lovely as he treated you on that dinner and the following outings, despite the genuine laughter he managed to pull from you, something didn't quite feel right in your soul. You were much too afraid to ask someone why your heart felt as if it was betraying someone each time you smiled at prince Jimin. You weren't quite sure yet if you wanted to know the answer to that.

"Darling, your mother was asking for a time with you to go over which colors will be best for our wedding."

Your back remains facing your fiancé as your hand gently dips into the cool water of the fountain in your west garden, drawing ripples from the surface as you lazily trace patterns into the water. After spending two months with prince Jimin as he courted you, taking you to different places as you got to know him more, it was decided that you two were to be wed. As much as you have come to care for Jimin, you couldn't bring yourself to reject his proposal to you; how could you when his eyes so clearly shimmered with his adoration for you each time he looked at you?

 "Can I respond with never?" His soft giggle has you turning to look at him, your heart squeezing painfully at the fondness in his eyes. You didn't deserve it.

 "I am afraid not," his smile is soft as he takes a seat beside you, careful to not sit on top of your dress as his hand gently cups your cheek. "I know the planning bores you darling, but I won't be able to convince your mother any longer to postpone it. She'll surely hang me by the feet if I do."

 The tender way he regards you never fails to make the guilt consume you, but the selfish part of you enjoys having someone care for you like this. Half a year has passed since you woke up from your coma and you have yet to fill the hollowness lodged within your soul.

 "Well we surely don't want that," your lips twitch to return his smile as your hand gently grabs his still resting on your cheek and brings it down to lay on your lap. "I will meet with her later, I'm not ready to face that stress quite yet."

 Sometimes when Jimin stares at you, you swear he can see right through your lies and the mask you wear of the demur princess. You hope with all your heart he doesn't because then he'd know how much you truly wish this wedding he's looking forward to won't happen. As much as you were dreading the date of your wedding day, Jimin grew more passionate as the day grew closer and you couldn't bring yourself to show him your true feelings. 

Just as quickly as his solemn expression came, it left as he leans forward to softly place his plump lips on yours. "That's fine; it just means I get to have you to myself a little longer."

As your lips separate and you connect your eyes with his, you vow to yourself that you will at least try to hide your pain from this remarkable man in front you. He truly only deserved happiness in his life. You just failed to realize how impossible that vow would be as the days grew closer and your sanity quickly began to leave you.

Things were perfect. Things were falling into place so easily into your life. You were marrying the man of everybody’s dreams tomorrow. Prince Jimin is the definition of the perfect husband; kind, gentle, understanding, incredibly handsome...so why on earth did you feel so empty every time he smiled at you? Why did your heart stay still every time his fingers caressed your face? Why did the butterflies stay stagnant in your stomach whenever his lips brushed yours? 

Was there something wrong with you? In the late nights as he slept beside you and the crickets chirped, your eyes couldn’t linger on his sleeping face as it only made the hollow feeling grow. Your own brain became a stranger to you while your body tried it’s hardest to have you figure out why you felt so out of place. Feeling as if your own castle walls and corridors that you grew up with were laughing at you for feeling so misplaced.

The faces of your family on the hung portraits blur into a cacophony of pitying stares, urging the void in your heart to consume your breath and leave you to escape out into the gardens for air. Even the flowers that became your friends when you were a child face away from you, hiding their own pity for what has become of your sanity.

Time passes and the cold ground you sat on at some point is biting into your skin, sending shivers throughout your veins until the cold settles deep within your bones. It should scare you; how comforting the chill feels compared to the warmth of your fiance’s body. Why couldn’t you be happy? Why did this hollowness persist to linger even when you try your hardest to be content?

Desperation claws at your throat and the urge to scream is debilitating; forcing you to stand and quickly run to escape the tears threatening to fall. Your sleeping gown tries it's hardest to stop you with each step, pleading for you to stop and head back to bed. But your body knows better. 

Your feet carry you despite the ground turning rough as you enter the grounds leading to the stables and they continue to lead you until you reach the stable containing your Friesian stallion. Your breath comes out in puffs in front of you from the cold, but you don’t feel the ice slowly chilling your skin, too busy staring at the horse you grew up with. Or so you were told, as you can’t pull a single memory of you ever riding it.

And even still, this quiet stable filled with all the horses used for the royal family feels more like your home than the bed containing your husband to be. Your heart feels warm and the feeling has your eyes watering; how long has it been since you felt like you belonged? Why did this beautiful stallion look at you with all the answers you’re seeking in its black eyes?

“___...?”

For the first time in months you feel your heart skip a beat at the deep voice softly calling your name, lulling the lingering desperation in your soul. Your lids even flutter closed for a quick moment as your ears savor the sound like molten gold. Your body felt so starved suddenly; a sound you had no idea you were craving and the abrupt longing you felt for this stranger had tears fighting to escape your eyes.

“___– I mean – your highness, are you alright? What are you doing out here so late at night? It isn’t safe for you to be alone here.”

You taste salt as the tears rush down your face and your body physically aches at the concern you can hear so palpable in his voice. Despite your body vibrating with ardent yearning to turn around and hold the man behind you, your mind keeps you frozen in confusion. You shouldn’t feel so at home here and you most definitely shouldn’t feel such a disturbing amount of longing for a man you don’t recognize. The desperation returns with a roar and shakes your body as the tears continue to fall; the hollow feeling eating away at your heart.

“Princess please answer me, you are beginning to worry me,” the man is closer and with a tentative hand he touches your arm, almost lovingly so.

The gentle touch has your control breaking as it ignites a want in you so strong that it has your mind reeling; thoughts fighting each other to be heard. A violent sob rips out of your throat as you quickly turn to face the man, desperate in seeing who is causing your reality to break. Only you weren’t ready and now your world is upside down.

Soft, brown eyes and full lips that rival Jimin’s rest on such a handsome face, with such delicate features and yet the sharp edge of his jaw and strong brows show his masculinity. His figure is tall and broad, with strong hands that hover over your skin in caution, not wanting to upset you further. But the damage is done.

Who is he and why do you feel like he’s holding the missing piece to a puzzle you had no idea you were trying to solve?

“Princess –”

“Don’t,” you cut him off before he can continue, your chest heaving with the sobs you try repressing and your tears showing no signs of stopping, “please don’t.”

The tall man closes his mouth and retracts his hovering hand, bones cracking at how strongly he closes it into a fist. He stays quiet, but his eyes show a sadness so deep it cuts into your soul. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair how you’re the only one who’s kept in the dark about a secret no one wants to reveal. It was driving you mad.

“Who are you?” The man sucks in a breath, so silent you might have missed it were it not for the silent night; his eyes look even more pained. And madder you became. “I asked you a question! Who are you?!”

The anguish in his eyes rips your heart apart and makes your bottom lip quiver, the tears not once pausing their descent. But somehow his response does little to quiet your desolation and it only makes your fall into madness accelerate, confusion bleeding into your tears. 

“I am just the stable boy for the royal family’s steeds.”

You had no explanation as to why his answer felt so wrong it simultaneously angered you and shattered your heart. He was only the stable boy after all. Your emotions are beyond control now as you fall to your knees and begin to sob with all your heart, fingers grasping at your face while your body trembles. Why couldn't the gods take pity on you and return your lost memories? Why were you being punished so cruelly?

"Princess….please don't cry," the man's voice sounds agonized as he kneels beside you, not being able to help himself as he lays his hands on your arms. "It wasn't my intention to make you cry...please, I am not worth the tears."

If anyone were to ask you where you were tonight, you'd say you took a walk through your gardens, but you couldn't bring yourself to question why you let yourself be held by the stable boy. There was an undeniable feeling of being complete and whole as his arms wrap around you to pull you into his chest. Your heart is so loud in your ears from the speed its beating and your soul sings in contentment as your face buries itself in his sturdy chest. 

It wasn't just you who was affected; however, your ear can hear how quickly his heart is pounding in his chest as his own form trembles. A rush of euphoria and a feeling of belonging go through you as your tears are caught by his shirt. Why did this feel so right? Why did being in this stranger's arms bring you more comfort than your own husband's to be?

It's as Jimin flashes in your mind that you realize how inappropriate this situation is. Instead of the feeling of euphoria comforting you, it only serves to have your mind breaking further. Why did this simple stable hand make you feel all of these things no one else could? 

Despite your burning desperation to uncover the darkness surrounding your past, now that there is something possibly triggering your mind, you are suddenly ready to run. You're afraid of the truth.

The man's face contorts into one of hurt and confusion as you are quick to push him from you, swiftly getting to your feet to harshly wipe the tears from your eyes. Your breathing comes in sharp exhales as you turn your back on him, no longer able to watch his soulful eyes as it wrought emotions within you. This is dangerous. You are to be wed tomorrow. 

"___, I –"

"I should go."

His words get choked and you can hear him quickly get to his feet, his hand gently cupping your elbow. Why was he so desperate to keep you here? What was it that he knew that you didn't? And why on earth did your name falling from his lips bring goosebumps all over your skin?

"Don't...don't leave just yet," his voice is soft, but strained with emotion as his fingers gently squeeze your elbow, trying his hardest to have you look at him. "Please, I just want –"

"I am getting married tomorrow." His voice cuts off and you aren't sure why you felt the need to state your business to him, but you just knew that it made your heart break. "It is not appropriate for me to be here, I really should leave."

The air is tense with emotion and it's as his hand leaves your skin that you only wish to turn around to comfort him. But this is why you couldn't. He made you feel things you shouldn't and it terrifies you. He is not the man you are marrying. 

The male behind you no longer speaks and you are much too afraid to turn around; knowing your resolve would break and the temptation to have him answer your questions would be too great. So you begin taking your first steps away from him, feeling your own soul screaming to turn back, but your fear encouraging you to keep walking. You deny to yourself how walking away from the man behind you is cracking your heart beyond repair and it is a secret you will take to your grave. 

You had already vowed to yourself that you would be the perfect wife for prince Jimin. Even if it cost your happiness.

Cheers and congratulations fill the air as guests come to you with smiles, gushing about how beautiful the ceremony was, how gorgeous you looked in your dress and how handsome your fiancé, no, your husband appeared. Jimin is glowing with pride beside you as his arm refuses to leave your waist, every so often his eyes glance to you and his hold tightens, almost as if reassuring himself you truly are his now. It only reminds you of his vow he announced to the kingdom earlier and his confession of having first adored you when you two met as kids. Swoons rang in the cathedral and envious stares bored holes into you as every young woman no doubt wished they were in your shoes. 

Perhaps it would be ill advised for you to offer them your place. You had to be the happy bride after all.

"I can't wait until I can have you properly in my arms tonight," Jimin's breath is hot against your ear as his arm brings you closer to him, taking advantage of the small reprieve of guests at the moment. "I want to show you just how much I love you my darling."

Your heartbeat remains steady as your lips automatically stretch into a practiced smile, your hand gently cupping his cheek and body angling toward him. A picture of the perfect couple. "I am also looking forward to it."

Jimin simply gives you his own small smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead, not needing to vocally express his thoughts to you. 

You both knew.

The day passes you by in a whirlwind of colors, laughter, alcohol and music; staring at the festivities before you as a stranger. You watched yourself smile and dance, watched as you fooled your parents and your guests. 

But there was no fooling the man who now buried his face in your neck, tracing your throat with his lips and your body with his hands. His motions were almost desperate and his passionate words sang like a melody wishing to coax you to move. There was no denying that your whimpers and moans were real as his sinful tongue spelled out his desire for you between your legs. Truly you married the perfect man.

But he knew.

"I swear I will make you happy my love," his sticky lips connect with yours, his hands greedily squeezing your bare body, words desperately muttered between kisses, "I swear to always show you how much I love you."

Even if you never love me back. It was unsaid, but it was a truth neither of you needed to reaffirm. 

Your moans pitch in volume as he moves inside of you, hips mercilessly connecting with yours with each deep thrust he delivers, creating a delicious symphony of slapping skin and groans of pleasure. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that your heart is racing due to the emotions and you can nearly convince yourself that when you close your eyes, the image of the man behind your lids as you reach your high is your husband and not the stranger you left at the stables a night ago.

But...you knew.

"Did ye hear? The queen is pregnant!"

"After all these years? I'd say that's a miracle."

"Aye, the whole kingdom is due to celebrate it soon no doubt."

"But surely you two have also heard the whispers about the pregnancy? I heard the queen had to find men outside of her husband to do the job. It was rumored the king had gone infertile after the princess was born."

"If you know what's good for ye, you'd keep that to yourself. Truth or not, if a royal guard dare hear ye…"

"Oh hush! We all know they never come scouting around these parts."

"It does make sense; I have to give ye that. It explains why the king and queen easily let princess ___ move to Vesta. We all know how protective of the gal they were."

"It is a shame though; did you hear what happened to Kim's boy?"

"The lad who works at the royal stables? What happened to him?"

"Well old Mary down the road told me how Kim came asking if she'd seen 'em, apparently the lads been missing for a week now."

"Oh, that is a shame! He was a good man, that one. Don't suppose it's due to those old rumors of him being involved with the princess?"

"That's crazy talk, do you really believe a princess would be fooling around with a stable hand?"

"Crazy or not, I believe it was true. Ain't you a sucker for a modern day Romeo and Juliet?"

"I ain't much of a romantic, but I do feel sorry for 'em if it is true. Because if my memory serves me right, Romeo and Juliet don't end in a happy ending."

[5hfanfiction]

Are We Even Friends?- Chapter 2

A/N: trigger warning for panic attacks

I followed Camila to her bunk and I sat beside her.

“Hey Camz… um I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.”

She looked up at me with sadness and my heart melted. I felt terrible I shouldn’t have asked for the kiss I should’ve just talked to her. Why do I have to be so stupid?

“Lo.”

“Yeah Camz, what’s wrong? I’m sorry if I did something.”

“No don’t apologize. It’s ok, I’m glad you still care about me. It’s just… I, nevermind.

Camila’s POV

Do I tell her? She loves me, she said it to my face, but she said she loved me and then left. I guess it was a mutual decision but still.

I wiped my eyes to try and clear some of the still flowing tears and I looked at Lauren. She looked tired. Not the sleepy kind but she looked drained emotionally. It’d be silly to say I didn’t love her but I was so scared to let her know I’ve fallen again. So I told her what I’ve told her countless times.

“Lo we are still friends ok, I’m always here.”

Those words meant a lot more than I was letting on but it probably seemed contradictory because Lauren and I didn’t talk much anymore.

With that she got up and left.

-

Today was our day off so I spent the rest of the day on the tour bus and only got up once to go out because Dinah and Normani made me go shopping. When we returned I sat in my bunk, listened to a shit ton of Ed Sheeran songs, and cried. About an hour had past before I heard the curtain of my bunk open, it was of course Lauren.

“Um hi”

“Hey, I just wanted to say I’m sorry again for earlier it was uncalled for. Can we just talk for a minute?”

“I don’t see why not.” I replied.

“Well, I might as well just say everything then.”

Her nervousness was not making this situation any better so I internally held my breath and just hoped that whatever she had to say would be quick. I can tell you I was so dreadfully wrong.

I nodded my head and she began her confession.

“When I first met you back in the X Factor days it was great, you were great and you know when we were together for a bit it was amazing probably the best few months of my life if we are being honest here. And then we just drifted apart and I know management had a lot to do with that and the fact that we were both still coming to terms with our sexuality, but I couldn’t help but feel angry and hurt that you didn’t want to talk to me when we broke up. So all this time, once I got my feelings in check I couldn’t help but feel this was all my fault and it threw me into a spiraling depression of missing you and crying and as of this moment I don’t know if I will ever be ok again.”

I felt tears begin to prick in my eyes and I tried my best to hide emotions but I was not as good as Lauren. The whole time through her confession she looked so hopeless but if you would have only heard the words she was saying you would have thought otherwise. As My brown eyes looked up to meet her green ones you could see the hurt I had caused her and for that I would never forgive myself because I had let her become irrelevant to me, yet I had become so relevant to her that she thought all of this was her fault.

“I didn’t know” I said as a tear rolled down my cheek.

Lauren reached up and carefully wiped it away with her thumb as if I could shatter into a million pieces.

“Camzi it’s ok I forgive you.”

“But Lauren… you shouldn’t, I fucked with out relationship and I’m sorry.” I tried to talk but it all just came out as incoherent sobs.

“Look, Camila it’s ok I just need some time to be ok again.”

“It’s not ok Lauren.”

With those last four word I felt myself hyperventilating into an inevitable panic attack.

“Fuck Camz look at me— it’s gonna be ok, take a deep breath ok just look at me.

I felt the warm embrace of Lauren as she cradled my body in her warmth.

-

I woke up suddenly and a bit confused. I glanced over at Lauren she was sitting in the far corner of my bunk reading.

“Lolo.”

“Yeah Camz?”

“What happened?”

“Well we were talking, I confessed my heartbreak and love for you. You felt bad I guess, started crying, had a panic attack, fell asleep, and now here we are.

“What time is it and may I also ask where everybody is?”

“Well, Mani, Dinah, and Ally have been gone since you fell asleep, they are meeting with some of Ally’s friends; the current time is “3:47”.”

“Oh…”

“Yep.”

“Lauren.”

“Yes.”

“Kiss me.”

A/N: Agh I really tried with this chapter I’m thinking this series will be 4 chapters long I’m sorry if this was unenjoyable please give a like or a reblog and thanks so much for reading I’m still new to this so go easy on me

you can find my Tumblr @ planet-among-stars

and I will be starting another Camren Tumblr later

[spookypastatoo]

Smile.jpg

I first met in person with Mary E. in the summer of 2007. I had arranged with her husband of fifteen years, Terence, to see her for an interview. Mary had initially agreed, since I was not a newsman but rather an amateur writer gathering information for a few early college assignments and, if all went according to plan, some pieces of fiction. We scheduled the interview for a particular weekend when I was in Chicago on unrelated business, but at the last moment Mary changed her mind and locked herself in the couple’s bedroom, refusing to meet with me. For half an hour I sat with Terence as we camped outside the bedroom door, I listening and taking notes while he attempted fruitlessly to calm his wife.

The things Mary said made little sense but fit with the pattern I was expecting: though I could not see her, I could tell from her voice that she was crying, and more often than not her objections to speaking with me centered around an incoherent diatribe on her dreams - her nightmares. Terence apologized profusely when we ceased the exercise, and I did my best to take it in stride; recall that I wasn’t a reporter in search of a story, but merely a curious young man in search of information. Besides, I thought at the time, I could perhaps find another, similar case if I put my mind and resources to it.

Mary E. was the sysop for a small Chicago-based Bulletin Board System in 1992 when she first encountered smile.jpg and her life changed forever. She and Terence had been married for only five months. Mary was one of an estimated 400 people who saw the image when it was posted as a hyperlink on the BBS, though she is the only one who has spoken openly about the experience. The rest have remained anonymous, or are perhaps dead.

In 2005, when I was only in tenth grade, smile.jpg was first brought to my attention by my burgeoning interest in web-based phenomena; Mary was the most often cited victim of what is sometimes referred to as “Smile.dog,” the being smile.jpg is reputed to display. What caught my interest (other than the obvious macabre elements of the cyber-legend and my proclivity toward such things) was the sheer lack of information, usually to the point that people don’t believe it even exists other than as a rumor or hoax.

It is unique because, though the entire phenomenon centers on a picture file, that file is nowhere to be found on the Internet; certainly many photomanipulated simulacra litter the web, showing up with the most frequency on sites such as the imageboard 4chan, particularly the /x/-focused paranormal subboard. It is suspected these are fakes because they do not have the effect the true smile.jpg is believed to have, namely sudden onset temporal lobe epilepsy and acute anxiety.

This purported reaction in the viewer is one of the reasons the phantom-like smile.jpg is regarded with such disdain, since it is patently absurd, though depending on whom you ask the reluctance to acknowledge smile.jpg’s existence might be just as much out of fear as it is out of disbelief. Neither smile.jpg nor Smile.dog is mentioned anywhere on Wikipedia, though the website features articles on such other, perhaps more scandalous shocksites as ****** (hello.jpg) or 2girls1cup; any attempt to create a page pertaining to smile.jpg is summarily deleted by any of the encyclopedia’s many admins.

Encounters with smile.jpg are the stuff of Internet legend. Mary E.’s story is not unique; there are unverified rumors of smile.jpg showing up in the early days of Usenet and even one persistent tale that in 2002 a hacker flooded the forums of humor and satire website Something Awful with a deluge of Smile.dog pictures, rendering almost half the forum’s users at the time epileptic.

It is also said that in the mid-to-late 90s, smile.jpg circulated on Usenet and as an attachment of a chain email with the subject line “SMILE!! GOD LOVES YOU!” Yet despite the huge exposure these stunts would generate, there are very few people who admit to having experienced any of them and no trace of the file or any link has ever been discovered.

Those who claim to have seen smile.jpg often weakly joke that they were far too busy to save a copy of the picture to their hard drive. However, all alleged victims offer the same description of the photo: a dog-like creature (usually described as appearing similar to a Siberian Husky), illuminated by the flash of the camera, sits in a dim room, the only background detail that is visible being a human hand extending from the darkness near the left side of the frame. The hand is empty, but is usually described as “beckoning.” Of course, most attention is given to the dog (or dog-creature, as some victims are more certain than others about what they claim to have seen.) The muzzle of the beast is reputedly split in a wide grin, revealing two rows of very white, very straight, very sharp, very human-looking teeth.

This is, of course, not a description given immediately after viewing the picture, but rather a recollection of the victims, who claim to have seen the picture endlessly repeated in their mind’s eye during the time they are, in reality, having epileptic fits. These fits are reported to continue indeterminably, often while the victims sleep, resulting in very vivid and disturbing nightmares. These may be treated with medication, though in some it is more effective than others.

Mary E., I assumed, was not on effective medication. That was why after my visit to her apartment in 2007 I sent out feelers to several folklore and urban legend oriented newsgroups, websites, and mailing lists, hoping to find the name of a supposed victim of smile.jpg who felt more interested in talking about his experiences. For a time nothing happened and at length I forgot completely about my pursuits, since I had begun my freshman year of college and was quite busy. Mary contacted me via email, however, near the beginning of March 2008.

To: jml@****.com From: marye@****.net Subj: Last summer’s interview

Dear Mr. L., I am incredibly sorry about my behavior last summer when you came to interview me. I hope you understand that it was no fault of yours, but rather my own problems that led me to act out as I did. I realize that I could have handled the situation more decorously; however, I hope you will forgive me. At the time, I was afraid.

You see, for fifteen years I have been haunted by smile.jpg. Smile.dog comes to me in my sleep every night. I know that sounds silly, but it is true. There is an ineffable quality about my dreams, my nightmares, that make them completely unlike any real dreams I have ever had. I do not move and do not speak. I simply look ahead, and the only thing ahead of me is the scene from that horrible picture. I see the beckoning hand, and I see Smile.dog. It beckons to me. It is not a dog, of course, though I am not quite sure what it really is. It tells me it will leave me alone if only I will do as it asks. All I must do, it says, is “spread the word.” That is how it phrases its demands. And I know exactly what it means: it wants me to show it to someone else.

And I could. The week after my incident I received in the mail a manila envelope with no return address. Inside was only a 3½ inch floppy diskette. Without having to check, I knew precisely what was on it. I thought for a long time about my options. I could show it to a stranger, a coworker… I could even show it to Terence, as much as the idea disgusted me. And what would happen then? Well, if Smile.dog kept its word I could sleep. Yet if it lied, what would I do? And who was to say something worse would not come for me if I did as the creature asked?

So I did nothing for fifteen years, though I kept the diskette hidden among my things. Every night for fifteen years Smile.dog has come to me in my sleep and demanded that I spread the word. For fifteen years I have stood strong, though there have been hard times. Many of my fellow victims on the BBS board where I first encountered smile.jpg stopped posting; I heard some of them committed suicide. Others remained completely silent, simply disappearing off the face of the web. They are the ones I worry about the most.

I sincerely hope you will forgive me, Mr. L., but last summer when you contacted me and my husband about an interview I was near the breaking point. I decided I was going to give you the floppy diskette. I did not care if Smile.dog was lying or not, I wanted it to end. You were a stranger, someone I had no connection with, and I thought I would not feel sorrow when you took the diskette as part of your research and sealed your fate. Before you arrived I realized what I was doing: plotting to ruin your life. I could not stand the thought, and in fact still cannot. I am ashamed, Mr. L., and I hope that this warning will dissuade you from further investigation of smile.jpg. You may in time encounter someone who is, if not weaker than I, then wholly more depraved, someone who will not hesitate to follow Smile.dog’s orders.

Stop while you are still whole.

Sincerely, Mary E.

Terence contacted me later that month with the news that his wife had killed herself. While cleaning up the various things she’d left behind, closing email accounts and the like, he happened upon the above message. He was a man in shambles; he wept as he told me to listen to his wife’s advice. He’d found the diskette, he revealed, and burned it until it was nothing but a stinking pile of blackened plastic. The part that most disturbed him, however, was how the diskette had hissed as it melted. Like some sort of animal, he said.

I will admit that I was a little uncertain about how to respond to this. At first I thought perhaps it was a joke, with the couple belatedly playing with the situation in order to get a rise out of me. A quick check of several Chicago newspapers’ obituaries, however, proved that Mary E. was indeed dead. There was, of course, no mention of suicide in the article. I decided that, for a time at least, I would not further pursue the subject of smile.jpg, especially since I had finals coming up at the end of May.

But the world has odd ways of testing us. Almost a full year since I returned from my disastrous interview with Mary E., I received another email:

To: jml@****.com From: elzahir82@****.com Subj: smile

Hello

I found your email address thru a mailing list your profile said you are interested in smiledog. I have saw it it is not as bad as every one says I have sent it to you here. Just spreading the word.

(:

The final line chilled me to the bone.

According to my email client there was one file attachment called, naturally, smile.jpg. I considered downloading it for some time. It was most likely a fake, I imagined, and even if it wasn’t I was never wholly convinced of smile.jpg’s peculiar powers. Mary E.’s account had shaken me, yes, but she was probably mentally unbalanced anyway. After all, how could a simple image do what smile.jpg was said to accomplish? What sort of creature was it that could break one’s mind with only the power of the eye?

And if such things were patently absurd, then why did the legend exist at all? If I downloaded the image, if I looked at it, and if Mary turned out to be correct, if Smile.dog came to me in my dreams demanding I spread the word, what would I do? Would I live my life as Mary had, fighting against the urge to give in until I died? Or would I simply spread the word, eager to be put to rest? And if I chose the latter route, how could I do it? Whom would I burden in turn?

If I went through with my earlier intention to write a short article about smile.jpg, I decided, I could attach it as evidence. And anyone who read the article, anyone who took interest, would be affected. And even assuming the smile.jpg attached to the email was genuine, would I be capricious enough to save myself in that manner?

Could I spread the word?

Yes, yes I could.