#He puts his future in the hands of fate.
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iniziare · 4 months ago
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Tag drop: Aventurine.
#[ aventurine. ] mr. cavalier gambler: uptight. overcautious. inferiority complex. you've won so much but you're still so afraid of losing.#[ aventurine: ic. ] they see only the straight flush. they don't know the other hand below the table clutching your chips for dear life.#[ aventurine: inquiries. ] time to make a move my friend. say goodbye before you shuffle off. it's… best to die without regrets.#[ aventurine: countenance. ] now go. and pick the clothes that you like. then choose your desired identity and use them well.#[ aventurine: introspection. ] “sleep is the rehearsal of death”? why does life slumber? because we are not ready for the final rest.#[ aventurine: meta. ] the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason. but you've never gone in any other direction.#[ aventurine: etc. ] the chance… no matter how small: the potential is what you hang onto. that is what justifies the gamble.#[ aventurine: ipc. ] … i'll give you that and much more than that. the ipc will give you whatever you want. even what you don't want.#[ aventurine: trio. ] three cornerstones who for a measly penacony... offered their everything. you're more united than the family.#[ aventurine: astral express. ] friends: the game has commenced and you cannot choose to decline… nor do you have grounds to.#[ aventurine: fate. ] if the dice of fate are always weighted then that is our destiny. why then... do we struggle against it?#[ aventurine: past. ] our paths will cross again beneath kakava's shimmering auroras. farewell: kakavasha.#[ aventurine: luck. ] he's only drunk on the moment that makes his very life quiver. hell is only one decision away from heaven.#[ aventurine: topaz. ] since i survived i realized: wherever you go that's where i'll follow; nobody's promised tomorrow. [ immobiliter. ]#[ aventurine: topaz. ] i never expected the beautiful and kind-hearted director topaz to resort to distorting concepts like that.#[ aventurine: jade. ] it's often used as a counterfeit for jade. but it looks like jade… can be substituted for aventurine too.#[ aventurine: veritas ratio. ] unfortunately for him; i make for a more competent conversationalist than the other dimwits around here.#[ aventurine: black swan. ] nothing remains hidden from you… does it? i will find my place in the web of your schemes; memokeeper.#[ aventurine: sunday. ] is this what the harmony represents? is it built upon constraint and coercion?#[ aventurine: acheron. ] only by casting aside reason does one truly gamble. ���emanator” — I know you'll match my wager.#[ aventurine: v. youth. ] but the sun could not kill me and the quicksand sent me back to the embrace of the guild and the ipc.#[ aventurine: v. penacony. ] i seem that way because i am nervous. maybe you can help. what do you say; put our palms together a last time?#[ aventurine: v. future. ] the once falling die has at last landed on its earthly rest. quietly… peacefully: it at last landed.#tag drop#[ aventurine: robin. ] you see people. / i see you. [ avaere. ]
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monster-disaster · 5 months ago
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I would love if you could write something about a dragon having a girl for a mate and praising/ pleasing her with his tongue with in tune gets him off as well
Request 2: Could I request a dragon story? The reader gets forced by her village as an offering to a dragon to keep him at bay. He takes her as an offering and instead of torturing her as she thought he claims her as his life long mate and wishes to please her and praise her? Mainly by eating her out constantly
dragon!Diman x human!Reader Good to know: size difference, smut, dead animals
You should have seen this coming.
You noticed the glances, the whispers behind your back, and the cold silence that followed you among the villagers. The signs were all there. And most importantly, you rejected one of the elders' sons when he asked for your hand in marriage. That sealed your fate.
Even now, bound and frightened, you don't regret it, though. Not one bit.
Being offered to a dragon, whether as a toy or a snack, you can't be sure, still feels like a brighter future than living under that man's thumb for the rest of your life. The thought of enduring him as a husband, dirty and loud, is more terrifying than anything else you might face now. Cooking for him, bearing his children... No. You'd rather face a thousand monsters than live that kind of life.
"Are you still sure of your decision?" He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. His piggy eyes are fixated on you. The pale color of his irises reflects the silvery light of the moon in the dark sky.
"Yes," you reply, your voice almost drowned out by the noise of the villagers gathered at the foot of the hill. You have to force your expression to remain indifferent, hiding your disgust as you look at him. His double chin obscures the line of his jaw. His round face is covered with stubble and small gashes from his clumsy attempts to shave.
"You'll regret it," he huffs. His grip is bruisingly tight around your arm as he uses you to haul himself up the hill. With every step, you sink back a few inches under his weight.
No, you think, but don't say it out loud. I won't.
No matter what happens when the dragon arrives, it's still better than the image in your head of the man panting and moving above you in bed. Even the thought of it makes your stomach turn with disgust and bile. His stubby fingers would fumble over you, grasping all the wrong places, and you’re not even sure if he could manage to put it in with his large stomach in the way. But, of course, his looks are the least of your concerns. If he had a lovable personality, it might have been bearable. But he’s rotten to the core. He could be more like the son of one of the hunters; a big guy too, with a mess of blonde locks on the top of his head and bright blue eyes that always shine with humor and happiness. His chubbiness only makes him look several years younger, adding to his boyish charm. But you aren't that lucky. He’s in love with your neighbor.
And this, all of this, leaves you for the dragon.
When you reach the top of the hill, your legs are sore, and lungs tight from panting. The man behind you shoves you to the ground. The impact hurts, but it's still better than the feel of his sweaty palm on your bare skin.
"Don't even try to run," he warns. The words leave his lips in heavy puffs. "If you do, we have hunters ready to shoot you."
You don't respond, turning your head away from him and only looking back when he finally turns to leave you there. Oh, how you wish he’d trip and roll all the way down into the crowd of villagers below. He’d knock them down like a huge ball. A sweaty, hairy ball. You are sure he would sound like the pigs too, crying and wailing.
Adjusting yourself on your knees, you straighten your back and scan the view in front of you. You don’t attempt to escape. You have no doubt the hunters would stop you if you tried anything. And where would you even go? Your home is the village, with all your possessions left behind in your small hut. And with your hands tied behind your back, you wouldn’t survive the night in the woods. The villagers would hunt you down like an animal. You would become the pig, dying in the dirt. The thought makes your heart ache with betrayal. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You once believed the village and its people were your home, your safe haven. Now, you are nothing more to them than something they can sacrifice.
With a heavy sigh, you gaze over the woods stretching out before you; a tangle of shadows with sharp edges and twisted shapes. Behind them, the tall, looming mountains' jagged silhouettes reach skyward as if trying to pierce the darkness. The familiar view that once gave you a sense of safety now leaves you with a cold, gnawing unease in your stomach as you wait. The villagers, whom you know all too well, are silent now, waiting just like you.
And none of you have to wait for long.
The sight of the dragon in the dark sky takes your breath away. The moon’s silvery light catches its enormous body, revealing the scales in sharp detail. You see its muscles shifting and moving beneath the hard skin. Each powerful stroke of its wide wings sends ripples through the night air. You hear every rhythmic beat growing louder as it gets closer and closer. Its large head, long and sharp, is supported by a thick neck that connects to broad shoulders. Along its spine, sharp ridges jut out prominently, extending all the way to the tip of its swinging tail. It cuts into the darkness with a fluid grace.
Your chest heaves as you try to get air into your burning lungs, but it seems that even the sight of him alone is enough to leave you breathless. His formidable presence commands awe, respect, and fear. Each powerful movement echoes his sheer strength. When he lands not far from you, the ground shakes and trembles beneath his massive weight. The vibrations crawl up through your bones.
"You are my payment," he says. His voice is deep and rumbling.
The word choice makes you flinch, and though it’s not a question, you nod in response anyway. "Yes."
Living so close to a dragon is always a risk, but as far as you know, most places find ways to protect themselves from the wrath of these huge creatures. The villages offer them gold, food, or humans.
For a long, long second, the dragon looks over you with his almond-shaped eyes. The weight of his gaze is heavy on you as well as his next words. "You will do."
For what, you want to ask but decide to stay quiet instead.
"Will you try something silly if I cut your bounds?" He asks with amusement.
You shake your head. "No." What could you do against him? Run? Fight?
"Good," he hums, reaching behind you to slice through the ropes around your wrists with a quick flick of his claw. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden closeness, and you dare not move, terrified of the damage he could inflict if you were to make a wrong move.
"Do you want to say your goodbye?" He asks, watching you rubbing your wrist where the robes cut into your skin.
You frown. "No." The word escapes your lips as a harsh spat.
He almost laughs. You can feel the deep rumble under your feet. "Good."
A loud, high-pitched squeal escapes your lips as he grabs you with a swift motion. His large hand envelops your entire body, fingers curling around you with ease. He lifts you off the ground effortlessly as his wings start to beat, raising you both into the air. You want to grab onto his fingers automatically, but his hold around you is so tight that you can't move.
"Wait, wait," you gasp hurriedly, and to your surprise, he stops in mid-air.
"For what?" The dragon asks. His golden eyes with black slits in the middle survey you waitingly, but when you open and close your lips several times without saying anything, he turns his attention away from you to continue his journey back to his home.
You want to take one last look at your village, the place that was your home until tonight, but your position in his hand makes it impossible. All you can see is the underside of his thick neck and head, along with the towering mountains in the distance. The late-night wind is cold on your face, yet his large palm around your body keeps you warm and secure in the air. Despite his size, he flies effortlessly, and soon, instead of the familiar hill and clearing, you find the dark wood underneath you.
His lair is nestled in a cove within one of the largest mountains. The air here is colder, and the wind is stronger, too, as he sets you down well away from the rocky edge, and you lose the warmth of his hold around you. After being carried, you feel unsure on your own feet as you look back to see the dark view of the landscape bathed in the moonlight. You can see your village in the distance, small and insignificant.
"Come," he breaks the silence. "It's warmer inside."
Going into a dark cave with a dragon several your size doesn't seem the brightest idea, but looking down the steep mountain beneath, you don't really have any other option.
"Wait," he says, making you stop immediately. "You need some light," he says as if reminding himself. "You humans barely see anything."
Without waiting for your response, he takes a deep breath, and before you can react, the dark hole is suddenly illuminated by the intense flames bursting from his massive jaws. The fire roars to life, casting flickering shadows across the cave's walls. Thick smoke surges into the cold night air, smothering you with its warm, acrid smell that stings your eyes and clings to your skin. When he finally closes his mouth, the flames recede, leaving the cave bathed in the dim, flickering light of burning torches mounted on the rugged walls. With the newfound illumination, you realize the cavern is even bigger than you first thought. Of course, a massive creature like the dragon standing before you requires as much space as he can get to move around freely.
"Come," he says, not even looking at you to check if you follow him.
Both of you know you don't really have any other option.
The dragon's lair is a maze that winds deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain. Steep slopes and jagged inclines alternate with vast, rocky halls that are filled with rusty weapons, tarnished armor, and forgotten trinkets. The air is thick with the scent of the stone walls and smoke. Each breath you take feels heavy and warm. As you follow the dragon, the torches he lits along the way cast flickering shadows on the walls. By the time he finally halts, you're out of breath, coughing from the smoky air.
"Where are we?" You ask him when you find your voice. It's hoarse and tight.
"Does it matter?" He asks. "You can't leave anyway."
You don't know where you get the courage to scowl at him. "Rude."
The dragon scoffs, amused. "We are in the heart of the mountain," he says.
The place resembles a grand hall with towering walls and thick, imposing columns that stretch up into the shadows above. The ground is littered with various objects, shiny ones, and old ones. Piles of gold gleam under the dim light, scattered carelessly among the mess. Books are strewn about haphazardly, their pages yellowed and edges worn, as if they’ve been forgotten in the chaos. At the center of the hall is a massive nest, sprawling and chaotic, made from a jumble of materials and what-not.
The dragon gives you a moment to take in your surroundings, but the silence only heightens your anxiety. Is this really it? Is this where you’ll meet your end? You can't help but imagine your clothes and bones tossed carelessly into the pile of treasure where the dragon sleeps. The thought that nobody will ever find you, that no one will even search, gnaws at you. You’ll be forgotten, just another insignificant meal for the beast.
"Are you going to faint?" The dragon's voice suddenly rumbles through the cavern, making you jump. The sound echoes off the stone walls and ripples down your spine.
"No," you manage to gulp out. "Why?"
"You look like someone who is ready to faint," he says. His tone is so casual that it’s almost infuriating. You are surprised you can feel anything else besides fear.
"Do you see a lot of humans faint before you?"
His grin is slow, almost mechanical, revealing sharp teeth that glint under the dim light. "You could say that."
"So," you begin, licking your lips nervously, "what do you want to do with me?"
His grin widens, and your heart races. "Let's sleep for now, hm?"
Your eyes widen in surprise. Sleep? That wasn’t the answer you expected.
"What?"
The dragon rolls his large, golden eyes, clearly bored with your reaction. With a graceful, feline-like motion, he climbs into his nest, settling down with a heavy thud that makes the ground shake beneath your feet. His massive body curls in on itself, his tail wrapping around him as his head rests on a pile of treasure. Or trash. You can't decide.
That’s it? You think, bewildered. He just wants to sleep?
When you remain frozen in place, your legs trembling beneath you, the dragon lets out a scoff. In one swift motion, he reaches out, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you off the ground. Your startled squeal echoes through the hall, but he ignores it. He just places you close to his head with a gentle but firm grunt.
"Sleep." His warm breath washes over you, providing a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding walls of the mountain.
You’re too stunned to resist, and the strange warmth of his breath is oddly comforting in the darkness.
_
As you soon find out, the dragon has entirely different plans for you than your village, which was so eager to throw you into the beast's arms. Or mouth.
Two days later, you finally gather the courage to ask. "When do you plan to... kill me?"
The dragon's response is not what you expect. He laughs, a loud, rumbling sound that echoes through the cavern and lingers long enough to make your skin burn with embarrassment.
"Eat you?" He asks, still chuckling. "Why would I do that, little morsel? You're so small... not even enough for a quick snack."
"Well..." you clear your throat, searching for words. "Isn't that what dragons do?"
He hums thoughtfully. "I won't lie," he admits. "The taste of human flesh is not... unfamiliar to me, but no, I don't plan to eat you." His laughter bubbles up again, and you scowl at his obvious amusement.
"Then why are you keeping me?" You press. Confusion and frustration mix in your voice.
He pauses for a moment, considering. "To entertain me."
"Entertain you?" You repeat, incredulous.
"Yes."
"What?" You scoff, disbelief creeping into your tone.
The dragon huffs as he leans closer to you. His massive head is now just inches away. Each exhale ruffles your hair, the warm breath unsettling yet somehow familiar after two days of spending time with him.
"Do you think you're the first human who has been given to me?" He asks, not waiting for your reply. "You’ll stay here with me until I tire of you."
"And after that?" You whisper, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
"I will let you go," he says. He almost sounds bored. "Just as I let the others go when they could no longer amuse me."
"You let them go? Alive?" You ask, hardly daring to believe it. You've never met anyone who was captured by a dragon and got out without a fight.
"Yes," he replies, rolling his eyes at your disbelief.
When you don’t respond, he turns away from you. His tail nearly knocks you off your feet as he heads toward one of the corridors.
"Where are you going?" You call after him, watching his massive form disappear into the shadows.
"I’ll get you some food," he says, laughing again. "Stay there."
"I don't even know your name!" You shout after him. You can hear your voice echo in the distance.
"Diman, little morsel."
Diman.
You're not sure how long he's been away. In the deepest part of the mountain, you can't see the sky, and not knowing whether it's day or night is starting to drive you mad. The dragon is rude and blunt, but you're beginning to think he won't be your biggest problem if you have to stay here with him.
When Diman returns, you feel a pang of disappointment as you see he has come back empty-handed. Your stomach growls with hunger, but before you can voice your frustration, he stops in front of you. With a deep breath, his large mouth opens, and two rabbits tumble onto the ground.
They're covered in his saliva, and they are unmistakably dead.
"You know what to do with them, right?"
"Yeah," you reply, trying to suppress the grimace threatening to spread across your face. "Thanks."
You grab the rabbits by their hind legs, searching the cavern for anything that might help you prepare them.
"You can find knives..." he muses for a moment. "Anywhere, I guess."
You glance at him, surprised by his nonchalant response. He smirks. His eyes gleam with a predatory glint, and the slits of his pupils widen slightly as he takes in your reaction. "You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to," he adds with obvious amusement.
Without saying a word, you sigh and turn your attention back to the task at hand. You have dragon-saliva-soaked rabbits to prepare.
_
"Can I clean myself somewhere?" You ask.
After several days in the dragon's lair, you've yet to see the outside world, something you'll need to address with him eventually, but you have more important things in your mind. You've grown increasingly uncomfortable in your own skin. Your clothes reek of smoke and sweat.
Diman surprises you by standing up in his nest. "Good. I was starting to think you preferred being... like this."
You frown at him, feeling a mix of frustration and weariness. If this continues, your irritation with the dragon might become more than just a fleeting emotion. "What do you mean?"
"I thought you liked being stinky," he replies with a shrug. His muscular body, covered in thick, scaly skin, moves fluidly as he stretches.
"Why didn't you say anything before?" You splutter, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.
"I didn't want to be rude," he says with an air of nonchalance.
You can’t help but scoff at his response, unable to hide your frustration.
"Come on, then."
The dragon leads you through the corridors. His massive strides force you to almost run just to keep up with him, and you have to watch out for his tail, too. It swings left and right in front of you with every step he takes.
For a long while, you wonder if he’s taking you out into the woods to find a river. But when he finally stops, and you step out behind him, you gasp in awe.
Before you is a new cave, even larger than the main hall at the heart of the mountain. Sunlight streams through natural openings in the walls, casting a warm glow on the time-carved columns that support the rough ceiling. The light dances across the surface of several pools of varying sizes scattered throughout the space. The water in them is crystal clear, reflecting the rugged walls with shimmering ripples. The air is thick with warmth and steam, which rises gently from the springs.
"Oh," you gasp, taking in the unexpected sight. "I didn’t know about this."
"Of course, you didn’t," Diman replies, his tone matter-of-fact. You give him a look, but he is not the type to shy away. "Do you want to bathe or not?"
"Yes," you reply, "I do. Do you have a change of clothes for me?"
"I’m sure I’ll find something," he says, and with that, he leaves you alone in the cave.
"Like a maid," he adds under his breath.
With his departure, you waste no time stripping off your clothes and stepping into one of the pools. The water laps gently against your bare skin, and you can feel your muscles and joints relaxing as the warmth envelops you. Leaning against the edge, you face the openings in the wall, allowing the sunlight and fresh air to wash over you.
When your village cast you out, you never imagined you'd end up here. You can’t help but think about how the others must assume you are long dead by now. You had thought so too, that your fate would be sealed and your life cut short. Yet here you are, unexpectedly alive and soaking in comfort. The irony of your situation is not lost on you.
You’re almost asleep when Diman returns, his heavy footsteps echoing softly in the cave. Something soft lands on the ground beside you silently. Opening your eyes, you see what looks like a nightgown spread out on the floor.
"And I brought you towels," he adds, his voice low and gruff.
You sit up, blinking in curiosity. "Why do you have towels?"
He shrugs, the movement causing the thick plates of his muscles to shift. "I have many things I have no idea how I got."
"Yeah. I saw."
Diman catches the subtle change in your tone and tilts his head. "Do you have a problem with it, little morsel?"
"It's... messy," you reply cautiously, watching his reaction. While Diman can be blunt and intimidating, he hasn’t harmed you yet, and you’re careful not to overstep.
"And it should bother me because...?"
"I didn’t say it should bother you," you tell him softly, trying to choose your words carefully. "But it’s not really... homey."
"It’s a cave," he retorts as if that explains everything.
"But it’s still your home," you reason.
Diman considers this, his gaze thoughtful. "Okay then," he agrees with a slow nod. "You’ll be here for a while, you might as well clean up if you want to."
Great, you think sarcastically. Just what you wanted, a never-ending cleaning project.
"Now," you say after a while, breaking the silence with a bit of hesitation, "can you leave?"
Diman frowns. "What?"
"I’m naked!" You exclaim, pointing out the obvious. With nothing else to distract you, you’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re completely bare in front of him, even though the pool and the water offer some privacy.
"So?" His tone is indifferent.
"Out!" You insist, your voice rising a bit in embarrassment.
For a long moment, Diman just stares at you, half-serious, half-amused. When you add a soft, "Please," his expression softens slightly.
He sighs but begins to move anyway. His large frame shifts with a resigned grace. "It is my lair, you know? You can’t just order me around."
It seems you can, but you wisely keep that thought to yourself.
Later, you find yourself nestled in Diman’s nest, a place that was initially intimidating but has become oddly comforting. You didn’t dare say anything about sleeping here at first, but now you don’t mind it. His warmth is a blessing against the cold mountain nights. A cocoon of heat that keeps the chill at bay.
"Read me something," Diman’s voice rumbles, breaking the silence.
"Read you something?" You ask, turning your head to look at him. His massive head rests on a pile of unidentifiable objects, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.
"Yes," he replies with a hint of impatience in his tone. "There are tons of books all over. Find something."
"Okay," you agree. You are not really sleepy either and glad for something to occupy your mind.
You rise from the nest, your nightgown swishing around your legs as you begin to sift through the scattered piles of belongings.
Diman watches you silently. There’s a quiet contentment in the way he observes you without saying anything. His tail curls slightly around himself some more. The sight of you in the soft, flowing nightgown fills him with a strange sense of peace. It’s almost enough to lull him to sleep, but he’s not quite ready for that yet.
As you pick through the mess, carefully avoiding knocking over anything, you come across a book that catches your eye. The cover is worn, and the title is barely readable, but it feels right in your hands. You bring it back to the nest and settle in beside Diman. Opening the book, you begin to read aloud, and soon, your voice fills the cavern. The dragon listens, his eyes half-lidded, and his breathing is slow and steady.
He spent the last decade mostly asleep, lost in the deep slumber of his kind. But now, with you here, being awake doesn’t feel like a burden anymore.
_
You and the dragon fall into a routine surprisingly quickly. The strange part isn't how easily you've adjusted to your new life, but how little you miss your old one. Yes, you miss your cottage, its cozy walls, and familiar smells, but you don’t miss the villagers. Why would you? They threw you away like garbage. With a few exceptions, they can rot where they are. You were right, though, choosing to be with a dragon is still a better option than staying with that fool of a man.
"What are you doing?" The sudden voice of Diman makes you jump. You almost drop the bundle of clothes in your hands. His large frame looms in the entrance. Shadows play and stretch on his scales in the dim light.
"Cleaning," you reply, steadying yourself after a second. You notice the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. "You're home early."
"There was a storm last night," he explains. His answer rumbles through the walls like a distant thunder. "It means plenty of fish."
Without further ado, he opens his massive jaws and drops a writhing pile of fish onto the stone floor. They flop and gasp, their silver scales glinting as a thin layer of water and dragon saliva spreads beneath them.
"Oh, god," you groan, stepping back in disgust. "They’re still alive!"
Diman tilts his head, watching you with a curious glint in his eyes. "You don't like it?"
"I do," you say, though your gaze remains fixed on the pile of struggling fish. "I just... I hate killing them."
"What?" He asks, genuinely puzzled.
"They're so wiggly!" You groan again, shuddering at the thought of touching their slimy bodies.
The dragon laughs. The deep, resonant sound echoes off the rugged walls. "I see. I’ll take care of them while you finish cleaning then."
You blink in surprise at his offer, but quickly nod anyway. You won't argue about this. "Thank you."
While he effortlessly handles the fish with his massive talons, you return to organizing the books you’ve been gathering from around the lair. You’ve created a neat pile in a corner. Diman could have a full library, though you’re not sure if dragons can even read.
"You’ve been busy today," he comments, his eyes flickering over to you as he lights a fire for cooking. Doing it in the heart of a mountain might not be the best idea, but for now, it’s your only option.
"Yeah," you sigh, placing your hands on your hips as you survey the hall. The place is still a chaos, but it’s better than before. "What do you do with so much gold?" You ask, nodding towards another glittering pile that catches the warm glow of the torches.
Diman shrugs. "They’re pretty."
"And the books? Or the clothes?" You continue, settling down next to him by the fire. Your stomach growls at the sight of the fish, now neatly arranged and ready to cook. "I understand the weapons and shields, but everything else seems so random."
He shrugs again. "I take what I find interesting or pretty. I mean, you’re here too, no?"
His words catch you off guard, a rush of warmth rising to your cheeks. "Well, yeah," you mumble, flustered.
Diman grins, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "You look better when you’re not trying to faint from fear."
You scoff. The moment between you two passes as quickly as it came. "Shut up."
He chuckles but falls silent, allowing a peaceful quiet to settle over you both as you begin cooking dinner. The fish sizzles over the fire, filling the cavern with a mouth-watering aroma.
"You seem to like it," Diman teases, watching you tear into the white flesh with both hands. Your hunger overwhelms your manners.
"Sorry," you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I didn’t get to eat fish often back in the village. The river was far, and when people caught something, they sold it too expensive for me."
Diman’s gaze softens slightly. "Did you have problems there?"
"Not really," you reply between two bites. "I didn’t have much, but it was enough, you know?"
He hums in understanding, lowering his massive head to the ground as you continue eating.
"Do you want some?" You ask, holding out a piece of fish on your plate toward him. "It’s delicious."
The moment the words leave your mouth, time seems to stop. Diman stares at you, shock clear on his face. You have no idea what you’ve just offered him. Offering food among dragons is a gesture of profound significance, far beyond the simple act as it is for humans. It’s a symbol of trust, of bonding, of something deeper that you can’t even begin to comprehend.
For a long moment, Diman hesitates, torn between his instincts and the awareness that you don’t understand the weight of your gesture.
"No," he finally says, though his voice is softer, almost tender. He relaxes back onto the ground, his massive form curling slightly around you. "Eat, little morsel."
You continue eating, unaware of the change between you and the dragon and the silent vow Diman has made to himself. He will make sure you never leave him, even if you don’t fully understand the bond you’re forming yet.
_
“When will you get bored of me?” You ask the dragon after two months of living with him. The two of you sit at the entrance of his cave, basking in the last golden rays of the summer sun as it slowly dips behind the horizon. His emerald scales shimmer under the warm light. He sprawls on the ground, seemingly at ease.
At your question, his muscles tense, and he lifts his massive head to look at you. “Do you want to leave, little human?” He asks. The question rumbles with a barely suppressed growl of disapproval.
In truth, you have no desire to leave him. The thought of him sending you away gnaws at you daily. Where would you even go? Your old life was left behind, abandoned along with your cottage. Now, this cave, with its towering stone walls and the dragon who lives in it, is the only home you know.
A long, silent moment stretches between you as he watches you intently. Slowly, you gather your courage and shake your head. “No,” you admit, your voice steady. “That’s why I’m asking.”
His gaze softens slightly. “You don’t want to leave me?” He asks again as if needing to hear it twice to believe it.
You shake your head once more.
Living with Diman has been surprisingly comfortable. Despite his size and the sharpness of his claws, he’s become a constant presence around you, a source of safety. He’s often infuriating, teasing you just for the fun of it, but there’s warmth in his companionship that you’ve come to cherish. The thought of leaving him, of leaving this mountain, fills you with anxiety.
“Would you let me go if I wanted to leave?” You ask suddenly, the question escaping before you can stop it.
Diman sighs, his eyes drifting over the darkening landscape. “That would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?” He muses aloud.
“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “I guess.”
He meets your gaze with a guilty smile. The corners of his large mouth curve up. “I say yes, as long as you promise not to test it.”
Diman has always been quick to let go of the men and women offered to him over the years. A lot of them stayed only a few days before he grew bored and sent them on their way. But with you, it’s different. He has no intention of letting you go. It’s not just about the entertainment you provide, though, you do make him laugh more than he has in years. No, it’s more than that. You make his cave feel like a home, and every time he leaves to hunt, he finds himself eager to return. When he sleeps, he looks forward to waking up, knowing you’ll be there. You’ve brought something into his life he didn’t know he was missing.
To his surprise, you laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “I won’t test it.”
And with that, the conversation ends. You lean back against his thick arm, closing your eyes with a contented sigh.
That night, the two of you drift off to sleep with anticipation and some lightness in your hearts.
_
"When will you be back?" You ask Diman, standing under the entrance of the cave as the rain pours down in heavy sheets. The dark clouds above rumble and flash with lightning every few minutes, casting brief, eerie illuminations across the landscape. The forest below is still green, but it looks weary and tired as the autumn approaches.
Diman turns to you, a grin spreading across his massive face, revealing his sharp teeth. "Are you worried about me?" He teases, expecting your usual playful retort, but when you don’t respond with your typical energy, his expression softens, and he answers more seriously. "I’ll be fine," he assures you. "This weather is nothing to me."
You nod, but the sigh that escapes you betrays your concern. "Okay."
"I’ll be back soon," he adds, trying to reassure you. "It shouldn’t be more than a week. Maybe two."
You don’t like the uncertainty in his answer, but you nod again anyway. "Okay."
"Take care of yourself while I’m away," he says, his voice gentle, as if trying to ease your worry.
"I will," you reply, though the words feel hollow.
Diman has to leave to hunt and prepare for the approaching winter. With his large appetite, he needs to be mindful of the animal population and cover more land before he accidentally empties the surrounding forest. And while you understand the necessity, you don't like it. You’ve grown used to his presence, his constant warmth. The thought of him being gone, even for a short while, leaves you feeling strangely vulnerable.
But you know it’s something he must do. So, you watch him as he spreads his enormous wings. The muscles in his body flex in preparation for flight, and with a powerful leap, he takes to the sky.
You watch him until his form is swallowed by the stormy clouds.
As you retreat back into the cave, it feels emptier without him. Colder somehow. You wrap yourself in a blanket, trying to shake off the unease settling in your chest. You tell yourself he’ll be back soon, just as he promised, but until then, the cave, and you, feel just a little lonelier.
While Diman is away, you continue to tidy up the cave, but it becomes increasingly difficult as the days drag on. Without his presence, the mountain walls feel heavy and claustrophobic. They close in on you more and more with each passing day. The silence is deafening, and the nights are too cold without the dragon’s warmth beside you. The cave now feels more like a prison, its stone walls offering little comfort against the loneliness that gnaws at you.
As the end of the first week without him approaches, you find yourself spending more and more time at the entrance of the cave, staring out at the still-raging storm and the dark sky and hoping to catch a glimpse of the returning dragon. Nature seems to be shedding its lush greens at an alarming speed. The forest below transforms into shades of orange and brown as autumn takes hold.
One day, you sit at the entrance of the cave, wrapped tightly in a blanket as the storm continues its relentless assault on the world outside. The sky above is dark, and heavy with clouds. The wind howls, and the rain pounds against the rocks, but you barely notice it anymore. Your thoughts are far away, lost in worry and longing for Diman's return.
The rumble of the ground beneath you is subtle at first, a faint vibration that you almost dismiss as part of the storm. But then it intensifies. The mountain itself groans under the pressure of some unseen force. You stand up, alarmed and with a racing heart as the tremors grow stronger. For several seconds, you stand there, frozen in place until the rocks around you begin to shudder. Dust and small pebbles rain down from the ceiling. A deafening roar echoes through the cave, and the ground lurches violently beneath your feet. The entrance, your only connection to the outside world, begins to crumble too. The rocks above shift and crack, and with a thunderous crash, they fall. The cacophony of stone grinding against stone drowns out everything else.
You barely have time to leap out of the way as the massive boulders come crashing down, sealing off the entrance in a cloud of dust and debris. You hurl yourself to the ground, rolling to the side and curling into a tight ball in the midst of the chaos. Your heart pounds as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your muscles are tense as you pull your knees to your chest. One arm wraps protectively around your head, while the other digs into your legs, anchoring you as the world around you crumbles.
When it finally stops, the silence is absolute, broken only by the muffled sound of the storm outside.
Coughing and gasping for breath, you push yourself up with a groan. Darkness surrounds you, thick and impenetrable. The air is heavy with dust, making it hard to breathe. Your hands scrape against the rough stone floor. You reach out, feeling your way through the pitch-black void, but your fingers meet only cold, solid rock and hard edges. Desperately, you search for any sliver of light, any gap that might offer a way out, but there’s nothing. The cave is sealed tight, and you are alone in the stifling blackness. The once-open space is now filled with a thick wall of stone.
You sink back to the ground with a rising panic in your chest while trying to steady your breathing. Your shoulders feel heavy as you force your mind to think. Diman will come back, you tell yourself. He’ll know something’s wrong. He’ll dig you out. You are safe with no injuries besides a few bruises and cuts here and there, and for now, all you can do is wait, alone in the darkness, hoping that Diman will return sooner rather than later to save you.
Hours pass in suffocating darkness. You sit, knees drawn to your chest, straining to hear anything beyond the silence. Every creak and groan of the mountain around you sends a jolt of hope through your heart, but it’s always nothing. Your dragon is probably far away, having no idea of the situation you are in. Your mind races with worry and fear, but as time drags on with no sign of Diman, a cold, grim resolve begins to take hold of you. You can’t just sit here, waiting. You have to do something.
With a deep breath, you push yourself to your feet. Your hands reach out to the rough, familiar walls of the cave, guiding you as you navigate through the pitch-black corridors. Every torch is blown out, making each step you take slow and careful. It feels like an eternity by the time you reach the grand hall. You can’t see it, but you know the space by heart.
First, you need fire. The torch is hard to find. Your hands are shaking when your fingers finally close around one, but lighting it is even more difficult. You are clumsy, trembling with cold and fear, but after several tries, a spark catches, and a small, flickering flame bursts to life.
The light is weak, barely enough to push back the darkness, but it’s something. It gives you the courage to move forward.
You gather as much supply as you can carry, stuffing them into a small sack before making your way to the baths. The walls here are punctuated by holes that let in some natural light, even though it's not much now with the storm outside. It's better than nothing, though.
You set your torch in a holder on the wall, letting the warm, flickering light mix with the cool, natural glow filtering in. The bath hall is a large, cavernous room with several pools fed by underground springs.
Okay, you think. It's much better. You have light, clean air, food and water. You will be fine until Diman comes back.
You lay out the blankets, creating a small nest for sleep. The air here is warmer, the water giving off a gentle steam that eases the chill in your bones. You take a deep breath, the first one since forever that doesn’t feel suffocating. The fear and loneliness are still there, gnawing at the back of your mind, but it’s easier to push them aside now that you are safe and out of the dark.
Diman will come back. He has to.
As the second week draws to a close, the storm that has raged on for weeks finally begins to ease. For the first time in days, you feel a small sense of relief. Being able to see the sky helps soothe the anxiety that has been eating at you. The knowledge that the world beyond the mountain still exists and turns is a comfort you didn't know you needed so much.
It's early Friday morning when a deep rumble shakes the cave, jolting you awake. Your stomach tightens with fear. The memory of the last collapse flashes through your mind as you brace yourself for the worst but this time, the ground doesn’t give way, and as the rumbling continues, you realize it’s not the mountain. It’s Diman’s voice, echoing through the labyrinth of stone.
A gasp escapes your lips as you scramble from your makeshift bed, your heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anticipation. You hesitate at the entrance of the cave that opens to the baths, unsure whether to move or stay put. You have to keep your tensing and twitching muscles from running. The maze of tunnels and chambers could make it harder for him to find you if you wander too far.
You call his name, your voice trembling as it bounces off the rugged walls, merging with his deep, booming calls.
“Y/N!” His voice is closer now, filled with urgency and worry.
Tears well up and spill down your cheeks as you see his massive form emerge at the end of the corridor. His eyes are wide and frantic as he spots you. Relief washes over you like a wave as you rush toward him, your arms stretching out instinctively.
“I’m here,” you cry out. Your voice breaks with emotion just as his large head presses into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him as best as you can, feeling the cool, rough texture of his scales under your fingers. Your feet lift off the ground for a moment as you cling to him. His deep, rumbling hum vibrates through your body as he tries to calm himself.
“I saw the entrance,” he says, his voice choked with fear and lingering panic. “I thought- I saw your blanket between the rocks- and- ”
“I’m fine,” you reassure him, caressing the thick scales beneath his eyes. “I was lucky; it didn’t hurt me.”
“Why were you even there?”
“I was waiting for you,” you reply.
“Little morsel,” he sighs, snuggling even closer. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I promise." His large, gleaming eyes soften as you continue to stroke his scales. “I’m fine now that you’re here,” you whisper. The warmth of his presence chases away the lingering fear and loneliness that had weighed on you for so long.
Diman hums again, a low, soothing sound that vibrates through the air. It wraps you in a cocoon of safety.
“I’ll never leave you like that again,” he promises, his voice firm and unwavering.
You smile, wiping away the last of your tears as you nod. “It's fine by me.”
For a while, both of you bask in each other's embrace while talking quietly about the last two weeks. Diman needs a long time to calm down and believe that you are really okay.
"I will go and take care of the entrance," he says after a while. "And lit some fire."
"Okay," you nod even though you have to force yourself to let him go.
"Stay there until then," he says. "I will come back and get you."
As Diman busies himself, you slip away to take a bath. The warm water washes away the grime and stress of the past weeks, and as you change into clean clothes, a sense of relief settles over you. The knowledge that Diman is back, safe and sound, lifts the heavy burden that had weighed on your heart. Even as you hear the rumble of debris being cleared and feel the tremors beneath your feet, the fear that once accompanied these sensations is replaced by contentment. The mountain, which had felt like a prison in his absence, now feels secure and comforting again.
By the time you finish, Diman has completed his work. The entrance to the cave is clear once again, and as you step into the great hall, the fire’s orange glow flickers warmly on the walls, bringing a sense of normalcy back to your life.
"We need to change a few things around here," Diman says, his mind clearly racing with ideas. "I want you to have an escape route even when I'm not here. You need more light and—"
"It's okay," you interrupt gently, smoothing your palm over his thick arm. The texture of his scales is rough beneath your hand. "We can figure everything out later. Are you hungry?"
He looks at you, surprised. "I just came back from hunting."
You shrug, settling into your usual spot near his nest. The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows on the walls, and while you miss the open view of the outside world, the warmth and light bring a sense of peace. "You worked a lot today."
His smile is gentle, and there’s a new light in his yellow eyes that you’ve never seen before, something soft and tender. "No," he replies after a pause, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not hungry, but let me feed you."
"Oh," you say, surprised by his offer. "Okay," you add, smiling at him as he moves to prepare your meal.
Despite the obvious difference in size between him and the portion you eat, he works with surprising speed and care, and soon, the cave is filled with the mouthwatering aroma of vegetables and fish. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you how long it’s been since you’ve had a proper meal.
"Where did you get fish?" You ask, watching him with curiosity. You had finished all the meat in the last two weeks before it could spoil.
"On my way back," he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "Now, eat."
You take the plate he offers, the food warm and inviting. As you savor each bite, you glance up at Diman. His eyes are fixed on you, watching with a kind of quiet contentment that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him look at you like this before, and it fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire.
"Thank you," you say softly, and Diman responds with a deep, comforting hum that reverberates through the cave. The sound is rich and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "Are you sure you don't want some?" You ask, holding up a piece of fish between your fingers. You could use a fork, but Diman doesn’t care about etiquette, and you quickly grew tired of searching for usable cutlery in the vastness of his home.
As the words leave your lips, the air between you shifts. Something unspoken and electric crackles in the silence as your eyes meet, holding each other's gaze a moment longer than usual.
"Do you know what you're offering me, little morsel?" Diman's voice deepens, resonating with a gravity that makes your heart skip a beat. The black slits of his pupils widen, nearly overtaking the molten gold of his eyes.
You hesitate. The answer is on the tip of your tongue. "No?" You say instead.
"Sharing food in my culture is an offer to share everything," he explains, his gaze never wavering. "It’s a bond between family and mates."
"Oh," you manage. Your throat tightens at the realization. "So..." you croak, still holding up your hand with the small offering. "Do you want some?"
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his lips, revealing the sharp edges of his teeth as he grins down at you. There’s a predatory glint in his eyes as he leans in, his massive head drawing closer. His tongue flicks out, surprisingly gentle, as he licks up the morsel from your hand. It’s likely not even enough for him to taste, but the significance isn’t lost on either of you. You’ve offered something sacred, something profound, and he’s accepted it with a puffed-out chest and a heart swelling with warmth.
As you watch him, a thought strikes you. "Wait," you say, your voice breaking the quiet. "But you..."
Diman watches you with amusement, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Yes, little mate?"
"You prepared my food so many times."
"I have," he agrees, his voice steady and sure.
"Well," you clear your throat, feeling a little foolish but pressing on. Your heart races in your chest at the silent change between you and the dragon. "Do you want some more?"
Diman chuckles. "No," he replies with affection. "Eat now." But even as he speaks, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he stays close, his head rubbing gently against your side and arms, careful not to knock you over with his size and strength.
His gaze never leaves yours as you take a sip of water, trying to calm yourself after your last bite. Your stomach twists into a tight but excited knot. Your hands tremble as you reach out, letting your fingers trace the space between his nostrils, feeling the rough, resilient scales that shield him from nearly everything.
Diman hums softly, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates through the air and ripples down your spine. “Lay down, Y/N,” he murmurs, nudging you gently with his head. “I hunger for something else.”
A quiet “oh” escapes your lips. It's more of a breath than a word, but you obey without trying to say anything else. Your movements are slow and deliberate as you lower yourself to the ground. Your eyes are still locked in his intense gaze. The cold, uneven ground presses against your skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown. It barely offers any protection from the roughness and the cold beneath you. Goosebumps wake on your skin, but you are sure it has more to do with the dragon than anything else. You’re very aware of how exposed you are, both physically and emotionally, as you settle down before him. Diman watches you with a look that’s a mix of hunger and intent. His eyes glow with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His attention is heavy and burning. His massive form shifts closer. His breath is warm against your skin. There’s a powerful, magnetic pull between you two that sparkles under the silence that settled over the hall in the last few minutes. It's primal and impatient. His gaze sweeps over you, taking in every detail and every breath you take, and for a long moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The cave, the firelight, the very air around you, all of them fade into the background. Your nipples harden into tight peaks under the white fabric you wear. Your arms start to move to hide yourself, but you decide against it at the last moment. Instead, you rest your hands on your stomach and open your legs without Diman having to tell you what to do. The mix of the cold mountain air and his warm breath fans over your center, making your pussy clench around nothing. The sudden feeling takes your breath away for several seconds. The dragon didn't even touch you yet, but you are already damp and eager. The muscles of your thighs are hard, and your insides tremble with anticipation. Your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, pushing the soft globes of your breasts against the nightgown. The fabric clings to your skin as Diman's golden eyes trace over your form. His gaze is intense as he takes in the sight of you laid out before him. He hasn’t touched you yet, but the promise of what’s to come hangs thick in the air, a palpable tension that has your heart racing. You can feel his warmth and his presence, so close yet not close enough, and it drives your desire even higher.
"Good, mate," Diman rumbles with satisfaction. "Open up for me even more."
With a shaky breath, you obey, forcing your legs further apart. You can feel the stretch of your tendons, the pull of your muscles as you do exactly as he commands. The hem of your nightgown slips down, gathering around the base of your thighs, leaving you bare and utterly vulnerable before him. Your lips are dry as you wait for his reaction, and your cheeks are hot with need and a hint of embarrassment.
His eyes rove over your exposed form once again. His warm breath fans over your center, over your whole body, making you quiver with anticipation.
"Such a beautiful sight," the dragon murmurs. His voice is a low growl that makes your pussy clench with need. He leans in closer, his large head hovering just above your thighs. The approval in his gaze makes you feel both cherished and possessed.
Your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears as you lay there, completely exposed. The rough texture of the ground beneath you only serves to remind you of the dragon's power above. His large form makes the cave look small as you look up at him with anticipation. Your whole body is tense as you wait for him to do something.
And when he does, you forget how to breathe.
Diman's tongue flicks out. The tip barely brushes against your inner thighs, and yet, it sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Maybe if your mind would be clearer, you would be embarrassed because of your reaction, but the haze is already too thick in your head to care. He moves slowly and exploratory. His tongue traces patterns across your skin but never goes further up than the base of your thighs. Each touch and caress is something new you both try to savor.
"You're perfect, little mate," Diman whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
His presence is overwhelming, his scales cool and firm against your skin, while the heat of his breath washes over you in waves when finally, his enormous head settles down between your legs. You feel the sheer magnitude of his closeness in every fiber of your body.
His tongue, wide and powerful, flicks out to tease you. The rough texture sends jolts of pleasure through your core. He starts slowly, almost lazily, trailing his tongue along your inner thighs, leaving a tingling, wet path of warmth in its wake. The contrast between his cool scales and the heat of your arousal is intoxicating.
When you waited for him at the top of the hill, you never imagined it would lead to this, that you would end up breathless and aroused beneath the beast. A wry smile tugs at your lips, thinking of the people you once knew. They have no idea how much of a favor they’ve done for you.
A soft gasp escapes your lips as his tongue finally makes contact with your pussy and cuts the train of your thoughts. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine. His tongue is wet and rough just enough the make you buck your hips against him while he watches your every reaction with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. His molten gold eyes are filled with a hunger that only stokes the fire within you. The black slits of his pupils are almost orbs as he tries to take you in.
He takes his time, exploring you with slow movements that leave you on the edge of madness. The rough texture of his tongue adds a delicious friction that makes you moan with need. Your hips lift again, seeking more of his touch, but Diman holds you in place with a gentle but unyielding pressure, savoring the control he has over your body.
“Diman,” you breathe, his name escaping your lips in a desperate plea. The tension inside you coils tighter with each teasing stroke. Your body aches for release.
“Patience, little mate,” he rumbles, his deep voice vibrating through you like a physical caress. Your back arches at the feeling. The sound alone sends a pulse of arousal straight to your core, making you clench around nothing. His words only heighten the anticipation building inside of you.
He dips lower, circling your entrance with agonizing slowness, making you gasp and writhe beneath him. The tip of his tongue traces your folds, gathering your wetness and savoring your taste with a low, approving hum that resonates through you. He flicks your clit over and over again until your thighs tighten around his large jaw and nose. He teases you restlessly, slipping down across your folds and going straight to your entrance. He prods you there for an endless moment, making you whine and fidget with impatience bubbling in your chest.
The dragon laughs at that, and the rumble of his chuckle echoes in your body. The feeling punches a moan out of your lips, and you barely have time to come back to your senses when his tongue slides inside you with a slow, deliberate push. He fills you up in a way that’s both overwhelming and strange. The wet muscle penetrates you, making you cry out breathlessly. Your back arches off the ground almost painfully, and your walls clench around the thickness of his tongue, only making it rub over your sensitive spots even more. He moves in and out of you as he fucks you with a measured, unhurried pace. He lets his tongue soak in your arousal while he listens to the sweet sounds you make. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen with your half-closed eyes and trembling muscles. He can feel every flutter of your pussy around his tongue as he pushes deeper, finding every spot that makes your voice go higher with several octaves.
The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear. Your body is stretched and filled by the sheer size of his tongue. Each of his movements is precise, calculated to drive you to the brink without ever pushing you over the edge. You can feel every inch of him, every ripple and curve of his tongue as it slides in and out of you. The sensation swirls the world around you once, twice, three times.
“Please,” you whisper. “I need-” The end of your sentence is drowned by the ragged breath that bursts out of your lips as you wheeze and pant.
Diman’s response is a low, satisfied growl that reverberates through your entire body. He increases the pace slightly, his tongue fucking you with a slow, steady rhythm that has you gasping for air. The pressure builds inside you, a hot, insistent ache that demands release, and your body tightens with each thrust. You feel like a drawn bow.
And...
and...
He pulls back just enough to flick his tongue over your clit. His touch is electric, sending shockwaves through your entire body, yet you cry out in frustration. Tears gather in your eyes, and your hips buck up against him as you chase the high that’s just got out of reach. Diman seems to relish in your desperation, his tongue alternating between fucking you deep and teasing your clit with a maddening, feather-light touch.
The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you, every muscle in your body straining as you teeter on the edge of release. The dragon's tongue works you with a relentless, skillful precision, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until you’re a quivering, breathless mess beneath him.
“Let go,” he murmurs. His voice is like a deep, soothing rumble that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “I want to feel you come for me, little mate.”
His words are the final push you need as his tongue finds its way inside you with a quick, bullying motion. Your body surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure that crashes over you like a tidal wave. The orgasm tears through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. Your muscles contract and release in a rhythm that matches the waves of ecstasy flooding your veins. You, your body, and your orgasm are in sync with the rapid thrust of his tongue that pounds in and out of you as you fall over the edge.
Diman doesn’t stop. His tongue continues to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him. Your body is a live wire of sensation, every touch sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you. Your climax and his saliva are a mess of mix between your thighs, soaking the floor underneath.
When he pulls back, his eyes glow with a satisfied light as he watches you catch your breath. His chest expands with pride at the sight of you. Your gown clings to your skin, highlighting the hard peaks of your nipples. A thin layer of sweat glistens on your skin under the orange glow of the fire. You are beautiful, and something in him, something primal and demanding, awakens again, but instead of burying himself between your soft thighs again, he just licks his lips to savor your taste while you slowly get back to your senses.
"Diman?" You breathe out his name, searching for him even though your eyes are still closed.
"I'm here, my love," he hums. "I won't go anywhere."
"What about you?" You ask him, and the dragon can't help but chuckle. His own arousal is still hard and leaking between his hind legs, but there is no way you are up to explore the physical possibilities between the two of you.
"I can wait," he says, hauling you up in his hand gently to settle down in his nest with you close to his massive head. "Sleep, my mate."
As the new mate of the dragon living among the clouds and resting in the mountains, your old life becomes a quickly fading memory. And when your love starts to rebuild his cave just to make it more of a home for you, you never look back. Not once.
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caffeinewitchcraft · 3 months ago
Text
The Fool Dies
Summary: You are a villain known for telling the future. When a Hero kills your right hand, you’ll let the future burn to get her back.
Hero Cowboy kills your henchman after you’ve already surrendered.
Gunshot silence, the scent of iron heavy in your nose, the crippling cold that floods your chest. All familiar sensations, companions you’ve carried with you since you even became a villain, but this time—
This time it’s…different.
You’re on your knees, the rock salt on the road digging into your kneecaps, with your hands above your head, the ghost of your signature smirk fading fast. The street isn’t empty. There are witnesses. The Hero pulls his punches when there are cameras and citizens and teammates. That’s what your plan says. He pulls his punches.
She asked if you were willing to bet her life on that and you said yes.
Your henchman’s body is stuck in the crumpled side of a car. You see her out of your peripheral, the pale oval of her face unencumbered by the mask you’d lovingly bestowed upon her six years ago. Cowboy backhanded it off of her as she was falling to her knees beside you. There is wet and red and twisted metal dancing foggily around her. The air is harsh and cold to breathe. The world is wavering as tears flood your eyes. You can’t blink them away. If you do, you won’t be able to see her just at the corner of your vision, you won’t be able to watch for a breath you already know won’t come, you’re afraid she’ll disappear—
“Clever to pretend to surrender,” the Hero says. He’s like a swan, spreading his arms out so the leather tassels lining the underside of his sleeves look like wings. He tips his head back so that the news cameras rushing in can catch the strength of his jaw under his wide-brimmed hat. She’d managed to singe it in the fight and the light catches in his blue eyes through the resulting hole. “Was it worth it, Prophetess? Was your attempt on my life worth the life of your sidekick?”
Snow falls, a few flakes here and there. The street is lit like the middle of the day thanks to the news cameras swarming out of the side streets now that the fight is over. The fire is being put out and thick curls of smoke rise from just beyond the gathering crowd of onlookers.
Your spellbook is lying a hundred feet away at the bottom of the lake. That’s why the Hero is flaunting himself in front of the cameras, trying to minimize her death at his hand. He did what he had to do. They were wrong, not him. Unfortunate but expected. The Hero always wins.
She’s gone.
The Fool. She always wanted a different name. But you were adamant she wouldn’t receive one until she earned one outside of her service to you. Until then, her name was a reflection of your journey. Your first step, foolish and unknowing, young and ignorant of the consequences. The name felt right when you called it and you never thought to question why. Only now can you taste your own cruel power in the decision. The power of prophecy spelled her fate out in front of you and, like always, you didn’t listen.
Your tattered cloak ripples in the breeze coming off the water. The vibrant purple is stained with soot and worse, the once smooth velvet charred and eaten away at by the Fire Cowboy’s flames.
They don’t remember that you surrendered before he struck. He’s dismissed your uncharacteristic action as an act, and so the world will too. The Prophetess always lies. Isn’t that the first line in your Hero Force file? The Prophetess has no powers of divination; she lies.
The world is magic. You believe it like the sun, like the earth, like the ocean—
--like her—
--and there is magic even here. The spell of your grief rises over your head like a shroud and, for a moment, you are drowning in the dark as the world heaves. You can taste the last cup of coffee she ever gave you going sour at the back of your mouth, the small daily comfort washing away under the metallic scent of her blood. There is a purple current around your thoughts, painful and biting. You will always be in this moment with her jester’s mask – cruel, you are so cruel – leering up at you, closer to your hands than her. How did you let her get so far out of reach?
Why didn’t you hold her close?
“I asked,” Cowboy says from directly in front of you, “if it was worth it?”
The world pulses back into purple focus. Cowboy is looming over you and the smoke of your battle rises into the night behind him. The media jockeys closer the longer you are silent and they’re inching around the car she’s lying against.
“Tell them to get away from her,” you say. Normal, your voice is so normal. Your arms are burning from holding your hands over your head and your neck aches from forcing yourself not to look. You are afraid your tears will fall if you blink so you stare at the gaudy belt buckle in front of your face. Your eyes are purple in the reflection and your face is as pale as hers. “P-please.”
Cowboy must kill all the time. He has no problem glancing towards the slowly gathering swarm and you can feel his eyes on her body as if they were on your own. “They’re trying to help her.”
“She’s beyond helping,” you say. Why would they even try? You can’t even look at her and you can tell that. “I don’t want anyone touching her.”
“They’re not monsters,” Cowboy says. There’s a scoff and then he’s crouching in front of you. He smells like singed leather. “Not like you.”
You’ve never seen the Hero this close. He’s older than you thought, only a few years shy of your age. His stubble is darkened with soot and his nose bears scars of past battles. His eyes—they’re not blue. You can see the edge of brown behind his contacts, the same deep brown as his mask.
“You killed her,” you say.
“No, you did.” He answers you so quickly it’s like he was waiting for those exact words. He tilts his head so the brim of his hat hides his lips in shadow. “She wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for you.”
He’s so confident that you nearly believe him. Your hands ache with phantom bruises from the blows and the weight of your sin falls onto your shoulders like the sky itself coming to rest there.
--------------.
 You see the trajectory of her life lined in gold. Her first day at your firm, her finding out your identity, her wavering in front of the window overlooking the Charlotte skyline as she admitted to knowing exactly who you are and how you’d been hiding more than your fair share of power all along.
That moment shines. She wasn’t the Fool then. She ripped her pencil skirt up the side as you debated her fate. When you asked her why, she said in case she needed to run.
“You would run from me?” you asked, eyebrow raised, conveying with expression alone how ridiculous you found the idea of her getting away was.
“I would,” she said. She grinned unhappily. “You can kill me, but you’ll break a sweat doing it.”
You laughed and held out your hand. When she took it, the outline of her life changed. No longer edged in gold. All black. A night sky all around her.
“You’re a fool for this,” you told her.
“The biggest one around,” she said, chagrined. Then she laughed with you.
You’ll never hear her laugh again.
----------.
There is a protocol for arresting a villain. Cowboy is already so outside of Hero Force code that it takes a while for things to be ready. He stands over you for the better part of an hour, smiling at the cameras, glaring you into submission, waving to the officers that eventually come to secure the scene.
An ambulance comes to take her body away. Only when they load her into it do you move. You watch the side of the vehicle like you can see through it. Cowboy tenses when it starts to drive away, but you don’t twitch. Her body isn’t her. If you start clinging to it now, you will never let her go.
“I know they call you Cowboy,” a woman drawls, “but you aren’t supposed to act like one.”
The reporters leap out of Strongwoman’s way. Barely five feet, Strongwoman is a super hero. Nobody is willing to get too close, regardless of how good and moral she is. The dark-haired woman is one of the few heroes who don’t wear a mask. No villain is stupid enough to think that makes her weak. Her dark eyes catalogue the scene quickly and efficiently. The ground rumbles as she approaches.
“Heat of battle,” Cowboy dismisses. His shoulders relax with another hero to support him and he shakes out his leather vest. Soot and snow falls from him. “Literally.”
“Hm.” Strongwoman finally turns the weight of her attention towards you. “Where’s her spellbook?”
“Bottom of the lake.”
“She hasn’t tried to summon it?”
“Her minion was in charge of that.”
Strongwoman’s voice whips. “We don’t call them minions.”
“Sorry.”
“You should be,” Strongwoman says. She folds her arms across her chest. She always gives the impression of being wrapped in armor and it takes you a moment to realize she’s wearing a tank top despite the cold. The muscles in her arms twitch. “That’s your third body this year.”
Cowboy hisses, eyes flying over her head towards the reporters. “Don’t—” A coalition of people in dark suits are already herding the media away. Cowboy’s lips thin. “Not in public.”
Strongwoman raises an eyebrow. She reaches down with one hand and hauls you up by the collar of your robes. “Fine. The car then.” She frowns at the way your hands hang by your sides. “You didn’t cuff her?”
“She doesn’t have her spellbook.”
“Protocol, Cow.”
“It’s Cowboy.”
“…”
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Strongwoman cuffs your hands behind your back. The familiar sting of power suppressors races up your arms. The last time someone managed to get them on you, the Fool had to break them off once you escaped. You feel her breath against the shell of your ear and her voice whispers, Now who will do it for you?
Her memory is another spell on you. The edges of your life – dark and violently violet – cover your eyes so that you’re blind and deaf to the world around you. Once this new incantation runs its course, you’re sitting in the back of a Hero Force car. The grate between you and the front seat is closed. Beyond it, you can see Strongwoman at the wheel, shoulders vibrating with tension. Cowboy is sitting in the passenger seat like a petulant child.
You read their lips in the rearview mirror.
--review, Strongwoman says. Three. Three deaths on your hands.
This one was just a villain—
Tell that to Foresight. I beg you. See how he likes that excuse.
Cowboy changes tactics. You know the Prophetess is basically an S-Class—
Without her spellbook?
She had it for most of the fight.
Did she?
You lean your head back and close your eyes. Cowboy’s been operating alone for too long. They’ll likely stick him in probation and then transfer him to a hero team with an established leader. Maybe Atlas’ team in San Francisco or Light’s team in LA. Hell, if they really want to punish him, they’ll assign him to Omit’s team in Chicago. The guy’s the most righteous and the most powerless leader out there. Cowboy might actually become a villain if he’s forced to follow that guy’s lead.
“He’ll suffer,” you say in your prophecy voice.
A speaker crackles to life overhead. “No divination,” Cowboy snaps.
“I wasn’t talking about you,” you say.
“Prophetess lies,” Strongwoman says to Cowboy. “Remember, she always lies.”
“It’s still a threat—”
“Prophetess,” Strongwoman says. “Let’s go over next steps. When we get to Charlotte HQ, you’ll be taken to a secure floor where you’ll be asked to remove your mask. It’s important that you understand your identity will remain confidential until your loved ones can be secured—”
“He killed her,” you interrupt. You watch the ceiling of the car. “I can tell you my identity now if you’d like.”
There’s a pause. “That won’t be necessary,” Strongwoman says. Is it just you, or is her voice a little softer? “There is a proper course to this investigation.”
The way she says it makes it sound like she’s promising you something.
It’s like your mind is scrambling for connection to her. There is nothing in what Strongwoman says that reminds you of the Fool. And yet, as the car falls back into weighted silence, one word rings. Proper.
There is a proper way, the Fool whispers. You could fight this spell, but don’t. You sink into the car seat the best you can with your hands behind your back. Hear me out.
Please, you think. By all means.
------.
The first time you ask her to dinner, you’re too hasty. There’s blood on the hem of your robes (possibly a tooth) and the city is still screaming the sirens of your escape. The Fool isn’t shivering like the rest of your henchman; she is standing next to you. Her Jester’s mask is carefully secured with three exact ties despite the haste with which she put it on.
“I can never wear this skirt again,” she says. She is standing on the very edge of the building, the toes of her sensible work shoes a bare inch away from nothing. “This was my best work skirt.”
The city sparks with the purple of your magic, violet vines climbing the buildings and blocking your view of the street below. Your magic is mostly illusion, but all power leaves behind a mark. Where your spell has started to fade remains a charred outline of leaves and flowers against the concrete and stone of the buildings.
While the rest of your minions look a bit like chimney sweeps, the Fool remains untouched. It’s an obvious sign of favoritism; you had room for one other person underneath your cloak and you chose her.
Somehow the memory of her pressed against your side as she used her power to lift you both up to the rooftop makes you blush.
“You don’t have any residue on you,” you say. “You can stitch it up.”
She scoffs. At you. “It’s recognizable, Prophetess.”
It’s really not. The black pencil skirt is the same kind she wore when you first met. How many does she go through? You find yourself smiling at her bare thigh.  Since she first told you she knew who you were, you’ve seen her rip at least three.
“Something amuse you?” she asks. Her voice is short and snappish, the tone she uses when one of the other paralegals aren’t as thorough as they need to be with the briefs. She turns to face you so that the setting sun lights her outline in orange and pink and gold.
“Have dinner with me,” you say.
And for a moment, the hope of her saying yes is as blinding as the sun behind her. Her lips part and you imagine that her eyes widen behind her jester’s mask. A wind picks at the long strands of her hair, sending them fluttering around her like a halo, and you’re standing so close that one brushes your cheek.
“There is a proper way,” she says and then stops. Her right hand twitches at her side. “There is—” is she stuttering? “This isn’t—Prophetess.”
You’re fascinated. She’s always so precise with her words. Even when you threatened her all those months ago she never once floundered like she’s doing now. “Hmm?”
“Hear me out,” she says.
You nod. “Of course.” You lean forward so that you’re only inches away from her. “I’m listening.”
“This…is not the time,” she says. You feel her attention slide to the others and then back to you. She hisses when she finds you even closer. “Prophetess.”
You don’t want to push too hard.
You lean back onto your good leg. “You let me know when it is time,” you say. Your lips quirk. “My little Fool.”
“Oh my god,” she mutters. She turns sharply on her heel. “Get yourself off the roof. I’m going home.”
You watch as she steps off the roof without hesitation. Her telekinetic powers are unique in that they can work on people too. You usually rely on her to get you home.
Maybe you should have asked her afterwards…
You turn to your other minions. Low-level villains without the drive or power to execute their own heists who all owe you the same favor. You raise your brow. “So how are you lot getting me off this roof?”
“You’ve got legs,” the Ace of Swords says.
“I broke my left one,” you say. And, to prove you aren’t lying, you draw away your cape to show that your pant leg is soaked in red.
The Ace of Swords stares. “This is why she said no.”
“Was that what it sounded like to you?” you ask. His surety makes you frown. “For that, you get to carry me down.”
The Ace of Swords groans as the other Swords flee.
-----------.
Your Swords are not always Swords. Sometimes they are Pentacles or Wands or Cups. There’s meaning to the costuming you put your people through, a meaning that escapes Hero Force.
“Where are the others?” Cowboy growls at you over the interrogation table. He keeps aggressively tapping the photos he flung in front of you. Grainy shots of your Wands storming through the Christmas Parade you used as a cover to kidnap the Mayor, blurry screen grabs from security footage of them as Pentacles in the art museum, a delightful brochure featuring them as Cups in a reproduction of Macbeth you used to do some light money laundering. “If you tell us, we might cut you a deal. Six of your people are being prepared for interrogation right now. Want to bet who breaks first?”
The ghost of you smiles behind your dead eyes, leans forward, and sneers in Cowboy’s face. That version of you is delighted by Cowboy mistaking six people for twenty-four and wants to play the interrogation game he’s offering. But the real you feels as heavy as lead and it takes all your strength to watch as Cowboy slowly works his way into a frenzy.
“For too long you’ve been tormenting this city,” he says. He shakes a finger in your face. “I told Headquarters, I said you were a problem when you first showed up in Raleigh. I said, ‘This one is going to come to Charlotte and she’s going to show up with an army.’ I did. I said that and now you’ve got the largest crew in America.”
“Quite the fortune teller, aren’t you?” you murmur. The Fool is at the front of the brochure, all done up as Macbeth. You’d tried to get her to be Lady Macbeth, but she’d insisted she be the main character for once.
You don’t understand Macbeth, you’d said.
His name is the play, she argued.
Lady Macbeth is the mastermind.
Did you read the play?
Did you?
Neither of you had.
Cowboy slams his hand on the table. “Look, Prophetess, I’m the only chance you’ve got at a deal. As soon as those DC heroes get in here, it’s off the table.”
Ha.
“It would be convenient for you if there were no witnesses,” you observe. “More convenient if you get to them before the DC crowd.”
“Witnesses to what?” Cowboy blusters. But he draws back and his gaze is colder than the Hero Force air conditioning that’s already making this room glacial. “To justice?”
How dare he lie to you? Her pale face haunts your peripheral vision. You can see her in the window of the interrogation room.
“To murder,” you say. Your glares clash when you finally look up at him. The soot is still in his stubble and you imagine you can smell her blood coming from his singed leather vest. “She surrendered. We all saw it.”
“She was an A-rank villain with telekinetic powers strong enough to crush my skull,” Cowboy bites back. “I acted in self-defense.”
“With us both on our knees—”
Cowboy whips his arm across the table, scattering the photos of your people into the air. He slams his hand again. “Last chance. Tell me where the rest of your minions are!”
In your holding cells, you stupid—
“You’re a pathetic worm of a man,” you say. You clear your throat. “Sorry. Let me say it in a way you’ll understand.” You adopt your prophecy voice. “The dust Cowboy leaves behind is red, red as the blood on his hands. His golden star is stained—”
You see the blow coming. Not a prophecy, of course.
You just know what heroes do when their buttons are pushed.
-----.
The second time you ask her to dinner, you’re too stupid for her to say yes. It’s not your fault though. How could you have known the Mayor had superpowers? He didn’t do anything besides embezzle taxpayer money!
“Maybe,” she says tightly, dragging your leaden and paralyzed body through the grand halls of the mayoral house, “you could have done a single iota of research instead of sewing all those costumes.”
Feeling is coming back into your hands. They still ache from finishing the elf-themed Wand costumes you’d made for your employees. You think the group costume of Five of Wands came out particularly well. All those little elves holding giant candy cane wands…a perfect symbol for the tumultuous election Season. You flex your fingers and then wince when the Fool’s nails dig into the soft undersides of your arms. “Ouch. Could you—”
“I am not slowing down,” she says. She grunts as she slings you around another corner. “We need to get to the backyard. Ace is meeting us there with the chopper.”
“Such a waste of money,” you bemoan. The chopper had been Two’s idea and all she does is maintain it. She won’t let you fly it until you get your license. “We should’ve got a boat.”
“Great idea,” the Fool snarls. She adjusts her grip so her nails are now digging into your shoulders rather than your arms. “A giant vehicle we have to keep in the harbor. The heroes would never find that.”
“Okay, you have me there,” you say. Your words are crisper now and you can even push a little with your legs as she pulls you into the empty kitchen. “But consider this. I could take you to dinner on a yacht. I can’t take you to dinner on a helicopter.” She stops in her tracks, head whipping down to look at you. Your noses nearly touch. You grin dopily. “Hi.”
“Are you asking me to dinner right now,” she asks in a tone that tells you you’d better be careful with your answer.
She’s so pretty. That’s why you aren’t careful when you slur, “Yes.”
She drags you through the doorway into the backyard. “I sure hope it’s the drugs making you this stupid.”
“Hey—”
“Hey!”
Both of you look back towards the house to where the Mayor has just appeared. He’s wearing the smoking jacket he’d monologued in and the handkerchief he’d used to drug you is hanging limply in his grip.
He points at you. “You. You should be unconscious! Nobody escapes my venom!”
“Oh gross,” the Fool says. “Does he make the sedatives from his body?”
“From his sweat,” you affirm. Then, raising your voice over the growing sound of the chopper and her gagging, “Maybe you should sweat better drugs, huh?”
The Fool coughs and wheezes. You recognize a laugh in the sound. “Don’t antagonize—”
The Mayor bellows and sweat begins to drip from his forehead. He mops at it with his handkerchief and then advances across the grass. “Get back here!”
“Hahaha,” you say, “He was definitely a hero. I know how to push their buttons.”
It becomes a race to who gets to you first; the chopper or the Mayor.
As usual, the Fool wins.
-----.
Cowboy isn’t allowed in your room after hitting you in the face. You can feel him lurking in the hall outside when Strongwoman takes the seat across from you.
���That…wasn’t supposed to happen,” she says and pinches the bridge of her nose. She’s sitting on a special crate they brought in for her. It creaks when she leans forward. “Are you sure you don’t need medical attention?”
The Fool is the only one you let tend to your wounds. Blood stings your eye. Cowboy was wearing his rings when he hit you. “I’m fine.”
Strongwoman sighs through her nose. She’s short and stocky, dark hair and wide nose. There’s a beauty to her when she’s still and quiet. When she moves? She moves like a threat. “We need to know where your base is,” she says.
“Home is where the heart is,” you say. And you killed mine.
Strongwoman’s lips thin. “Look, if you want the guys who speak riddles, we can wait for them. Or you can answer my questions and maybe we can come to some sort of understanding.”
“Interesting offer.” You lean back and contemplate her. “You have my spell book.”
“Except that,” Strongwoman says immediately. She winces. “Sorry. You’re in custody. The spell book isn’t even on-site anymore.”
“Then you can take these off,” you say, nodding to your cuffs. Their faint glow is making you sick. “As a sign of good faith.”
“Tell me everything about your operation,” Strongwoman retorts. She shakes her head. “Nobody believes you’re harmless without your spellbook.”
“Cowboy does.”
“Cowboy is operating under a lot of false assumptions,” Strongwoman says. She leans forward to match you. “Like the one where you have over 30 lower-level villains working for you.”
“Oh?”
“We have six,” Strongwoman says. “Tell me where the rest are and we can negotiate.”
Ha. She doesn’t know either. You are so good at costuming. It’s not like your henchmen can multiply. There are always just six with you and it’s through your costumes that they transform. You’ll have to tell the Fool—
Your mood sours. Tell the Fool. Who’s the Fool now? You’re not in the mood to play games. “I tell you everything, you let me talk to those you have.”
“No—”
“I don’t know everything about them,” you snap. “You’re asking me to betray my people. Fine, I’ll do that. You lot will pry and pull and claw until you find out anyway. But allow me to give them the chance to tell you about whatever family or loved one they haven’t told me about. If I must take them down with me, at least let them beg Hero Force for leniency for their loved ones.”
Strongwoman considers you. “And what do you want in exchange?”
“Let,” you clear your throat. Your eyes are hot and itchy. “Let me have a moment with them. To mourn one of our own passing. To—” you clear your throat “-to lay the Fool to rest.”
The silence sticks to the walls and builds. It presses into you on all sides until you feel like you’re in a coffin. You once told her you would die with her.
Not allowed, ma’am. I don’t think we’d go to the same place.
You swallow hard and stare at your hands.
“Deal,” Strongwoman says finally.
“Thank you,” you say. Your head bows until your forehead presses against your shaking hands. “Thank you.”
“Cuffs will stay on,” Strongwoman says gruffly. She pulls out a pen and pad. The pen looks like it’s made of metal. “Start talking.”
You do.
-----------------.
The third time you ask her to dinner, she stares at you for a long time. It makes you nervous in a way you haven’t been before, her unrelenting stare. Is it because she’s usually so quick? Or could it be because you can feel her eyes on your bare face for the first time since she stood in your office and called you a villain?
The same office you’re currently standing in now as the sun sets behind her?
“I have concerns,” she says at last.
Oh thank god. You’re smiling too widely. “I can work with concerns.”
“Can you?” Her eyes flash gold with the sun. “You keep asking me out while we’re working,” she says.
You blink. “Do I?”
“You do.”
You consider her words, leaning back against your desk. You’re wearing your pinstriped suit today and it’s getting a little tight. She feeds you before and after every meeting you have and you have a lot of meetings. “I’m always working.”
“That’s true,” she says. She turns on her heel. “And that’s the concern.”
You stand up. “Wait, how is that—”
She stops at the door and turns to look at you in a way that steals your breath. “I am not work,” she says. Her lip twitches. “Nor am I a fool.”
“I know, you’re—”
“Ace says they’re already at the meeting place. According to your schedule, we’re running late.”
“We haven’t finished talking.” You try to sound firm, like you used to. Instead, the words come out as almost a plea. “We can be late.”
“You’re never late. Besides, I hear it’s going to be a regular rodeo.”
“Cowboy? Ha! When did he blow back into town?”
“His probation period is up.”
“Lucky us.”
-----.
Lucky us.
You Fool.
--------.
You look over the bowed heads of your employees. Ace, Two, Five, Eight, Ten, and Page. The room Strongwoman led you to looks like the cockpit of a spaceship. Noxious blue light undulates up the concave walls. There are no chairs in here, no pulpit for you to stand behind.
So your employees kneel when you walk between them all to stand in the very center.
“Prophetess,” Ace says. Her voice is thin and high. “We—I’m so sorry.”
Two looks up. Her face is drawn and there’s a deep bruise along the side of it. “We know how it is to lose.”
“You do,” you murmur. You’re aware of the eyes on you here. You saw Cowboy sneering in the observation room on the other side of this one. There are cameras scattered like black stars across the ceiling. “I know you do. But there is a renewal in Death. If—” you swallow hard “-if you allow it.”
You expect fear. What you’re asking of them has happened exactly six times. The favor they owe is not only to you, but to each other. Death is the complete annihilation of everything you know. It can be the end. Or it can be the beginning.
But it takes people to begin.
And you have asked them too many times before.
“Anything,” they say as one.
Your head shoots up. “What?”
Six of your employees – your friends – return your gaze unflinching.
“If I have to redo everything again, I will,” Ace says. She presses a hand over her heart. You know a picture of her son lies there. “Time doesn’t matter. We won’t lose anything but time.”
“We know we can rebuild,” Two says. Her eyes are fierce. “We can do it better.”
“You taught us how to do it better,” Five says.
“I thought you would’ve already done it,” Page says. He scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t eat lunch thinking you woulda done it by now.”
“You didn’t miss much,” Eight tells him. Then, to you, “You did it for us. Again and again and again—”
“—and again and again and again—”
Eight punches Page. “Shut up.” She breathes in through her nose. “Prophetess. It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“The memories you have made will only remain with you,” you remind them. Your hands are shaking. This—you have asked this favor for the sake of others. Did they feel this vulnerable asking? So hopeful and so full of dread. “It will be different. Time changes all and you who have experienced it—”
“—will be like fortune tellers in a strange new land,” Ace says. “We know.”
“We’re okay with it.”
“Are you?”
The time is approaching. You can hear voices outside the room. Ten minutes. She’d promised you thirty, but you figured they’d interrupt sooner. Especially considering what you’re saying.
You breathe in deeply through your nose. You think of her pencil skirt and her flashing eyes and her warm smile. The ghost of her pale face is fading into blackness as this curtain closes.
Your resolve firms. It was a bad ending. As a villain, you’re allowed to rewrite those.
“Tonight,” you say in your whispering voice, “we rebalance the deck.”
The blue in the room flickers. The voices in the corridor gain urgency. The cuffs around your wrist flare and then go dormant.
“I see my son a babe again,” Ace sings. Her eyes burn with your purple power as she brings her hands up towards you. The memory of the favor you granted her rises with her words. “I hold his hand.”
The blue flickers purple and electricity arcs. The Hero Force suppressors are to stop superpowers.
There is very little they can do against fate.
“I see the bus that takes them away,” Page says. He doesn’t sing. His voice is as dry as the desert and he salutes you. His hand glows against his temple. “They get on it.”
“I see my friend at the crossroads,” Two says. She holds her hands palm up and tilts her head to the sky. Tears of neon violet fall down her face. “I follow them.”
“The power I have falls into my hands like rain,” Eight says. She cups her hands in front of her and they fill with your power until it spills over onto the ground. “I drink from it.”
“The harm I caused erased,” Five says. He crosses his arms over his chest and bows his head. A halo the color of lilac blooms over his head. “I atone.”
“I do better,” Ten says simply.  They stand with their hands by their sides. Their eyes burn with your power and they do not flinch. “I don’t bury them.”
Your power crawls along the walls. There are no more blue arcs of power. There are purple flowers and thorns that leave shadows in their wake. They seal the door shut and you are distantly aware that Strongwoman is trying to smash her way inside and can’t.
Fate takes a different type of strength to overpower.
“I see her again,” you say. The tides of the world pull at your long hair. You are drowning in light. The ground shakes under your feet. You think of her life outlined in gold, yourself outlined in gold. Is it possible you can see it glittering there in the unrelenting ocean flooding into you? “I see her again.”
Thunder crashes and everything becomes nothing.
-----------.
You are at your desk. You blink at the pages lying before you. A brief. A case. From four years ago.
You release a trembling breath. You never doubted it would work but it’s a relief to see not so much time has passed. Ace will still share some memories with her son. Page will not have to sit by his brothers’ bedsides again. Ten won’t be trapped in her father’s house.
The rest…the rest will not expect your help. You didn’t help them the last three times. Cruel, maybe. Fate often is.
You think Two is in Charlotte at this point. She mentioned something about a halfway house…
You freeze grabbing your coat as familiar footsteps echo from the hall outside your door. The skyline is twinkling with city lights, but it’s nearly midnight. Nobody should be here, you don’t remember anyone being here at this time—
The door opens without a knock. Her hair is chopped beneath her ears and she has a lip piercing and there isn’t a pencil skirt to be found. But it’s her. It’s her.
“Anika,” you breathe.
Her gold eyes flick to you, to your desk, to your coat in your hand. “You working?”
“N-no,” you say. Your words pile up behind your teeth. Do you remember? Of course you do, otherwise how would you be here. But how? Did I infect you? Did the outline of my life really drag you into my power enough--
Anika waits. When you continue to stare at her, she prods, “I’m not your paralegal.”
“You don’t look like you’ve even finished your degree,” you blurt out. You point. “A lip piercing?”
Anika rubs her piercing. “I’m not the Fool,” Anika says patiently.
A light bulb goes off. “Oh,” you say. “Oh!” You get down on one knee. “Anika, will you marry me—” Anika throws her purse at you. It misses by about three feet. You stand and try again. “I mean, will you go to dinner with me?”
“Yes, I’ll go to dinner with you.” Anika rubs a hand over her face. “Everytime I give you an inch, you take a mile—"
“For the rest of our lives,” you promise.
Anika shakes a finger at you. “Dinner.”
“It’s a beginning,” you say cheerfully.
The best one you’ve ever had.
-------.
Thanks for reading! I do love my supervillain stories and appreciate you for making it through this one! Sometimes I wonder if I can even write flash fiction anymore haha
Next week's story is already up on my Patreon (X)! I'm super excited to share it as it made me laugh writing it. It's an AITA style post from a woman who used to be a Cryptid professionally and feels like she's made a misstep with her Slasher boyfriend.
See y'all next time!
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senascoop · 23 days ago
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ꣀ꣒ ASKING ENHYPEN — HOW MANY KIDS THEY WANT? . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎
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pairing, enhypen × afab reader . . . genre, scenario(s), fluff, reactions . . . word count, 190-240 each . . . [LIBRARY]
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. , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !
“Hee,” you called quietly, sipping on your hot chocolate while the warmth permeated the serene void between you. You leaned against the armrest and kept watching Heeseung as he scrolled through social media to the sound of his almost inaudible humming amidst the stillness of the room. “You never told me how many kids you want,” you said as if you really were trying to find out.
Heeseung paused for a moment before a slow smile spread over his face, his eyes wide and animated as he put his phone down. It was clear that he had been waiting for this question. “Three. Definitely,” he said, nodding with the kind of certainty one might expect after years of pondering. You arched your brow, trying not to laugh. “But then what's it going to be like when you have three mini Heeseungs running wild? A nightmare,” you stated, looking at him impassively.
His eyes widened, and he shot you a mock parody glare that could only be described as mild offense. “What did you just say?” He said, leaning in closer and speaking as though utterly astonished. You just couldn't help it anymore: a laugh escaped you in the form of a chesty giggle, and you leaned back, confiding in your hot chocolate for salvation. “I'm just kidding!” you squeaked through the giggles.
. , PARK JONGSEONG ☁︎ 박종성 !
“Baby, how many kids do you want?” you asked, slipping your arms around Jay’s waist from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as he stirred the steaming pot of noodles on the stove. “Did my cooking skills impress you that much?” he teased, glancing at you with a smirk. His free hand reached down to pat yours, resting comfortably on his stomach.
You laughed softly. “Maybe,” you admitted, your voice warm with affection. “But I’m serious. How many kids do you want?” Jay paused, the sound of bubbling noodles filling the momentary silence. His gaze grew thoughtful as he tilted his head slightly. “Two,” he said confidently, his tone steady. “It’d be nice to have one of each—a boy and a girl. Balance, you know?”
You grinned, nuzzling closer. “What if they’re both boys? Or both girls?” you pressed, curious to hear his answer. Jay hummed, as if mulling it over, before turning off the stove and setting the spoon down. He spun around in your arms to face you, his expression playful yet soft. “Honestly?” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “As long as they’re healthy, I couldn’t care less. But if they’re both boys…” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Double trouble.”
You giggled, swatting his chest lightly. “And if they’re both girls?” He grinned, pulling you closer. “Guess I’ll just be outnumbered, won’t I?”
. , SIM JAEYUN ☁︎ 심재윤 !
“How many kids do you want?” you asked, casually breaking the silence while the two of you sat tangled on the couch, the light of the television casting shadows. His gaze dropped unstably from the screen to you, amusement winking in constricted lines across his brow of confusion. “We already have one: Layla,” he declared, pointing to the dog stretched across his lap, her head comfortably laid on his thigh.
Rolling your eyes, you let out a huff. “Jake. I meant a human baby,” you explained, resting your chin on his shoulder to gauge his expression. He hesitated in thought, his fingers mindlessly playing with Layla's ear. “One is enough,” he said offhandedly between mouthfuls of popcorn, as though deciding the fate of your entire future after that bite.
For a moment, you grinned in mock disbelief. “One? Just like that? What if I want two?” He just turned to you, slipping into a devilish smile. “One is a smart number. Two? Think of the double the mess and double the drama. One? We can keep ‘em outnumbered,” he explained in a teasing tone, though his eyes sparkled with affection.
. , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !
“Hey Hoon,” you said rather casually, tracing invisible patterns on the couch while leaning against him. “In the future when we have kids...would you want a boy or a girl?”
Sunghoon felt his face flush immediately; it was as if he had not expected you to ask the question. He nervously cleared his throat and shifted a little. “Is this a test?” he asked in a higher-than-usual voice. You could see the moment of hesitation that was thinking there could be something to it-a faint worry on the face of being caught in trickery, because he knew you would ask many innocent questions previously that often spiraled into an argument.
You shook your head, smiling and trying to play it light. “Don't worry, I'm just curious.” He paused for a second, biting his lip, returned his gaze to you, carefully considering his answer. “A girl...?” he murmured, a slight tremble in his voice. There was something very sweet about him being shy; you liked it. “A girl, huh? Well, I like that. Sometimes I think I'd like to ask you a real question: how many kids do you want?”
This caught Sunghoon off guard again because of your sudden shift; he blinked at this. He took a second, his face still a little flushed as he whispered slowly, “Umm... probably... one...?” you blinked, trying not to laugh at how serious he was about it. “Just one? You aren't even considering the option of having a second or a third in the future?” He shrugged, his expression softening as he leaned closer. “One should suffice for me, especially if it is a girl."
. , KIM SUNOO ☁︎ 김수누 !
“Babe...” you started, your voice soft with a hint of nervousness as you gazed at Sunoo, who was casually sipping his water. You felt a flutter in your chest, wondering how he'd respond. “How many kids do you want in the future?” Sunoo didn’t even hesitate. His eyes twinkled as he smiled at you, the corners of his lips lifting in that signature grin that always made your heart skip. With a playful sparkle in his eyes, he held up three fingers, still holding his bottle of water, clearly not bothered by the question at all.
You raised an eyebrow, amused by how easily he had the answer ready. “Three?” you repeated, trying to hide your smile. It was clear he’d thought about this a lot, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he was embracing the idea of the future with you. “Yep, three,” he confirmed, his grin widening as he swallowed the water. He set the bottle down and nudged your shoulder, leaning in closer. “You know, one for you, one for me, and one for us. Perfect team.”
Your heart melted at his words, and you leaned into him, feeling a warmth spread through you. Sunoo was everything you could ever want, and the thought of a future with him felt like a dream come true.
. , YANG JUNGWON ☁︎ 양정원 !
Jungwon wasn’t surprised by your random question—it was just another one of those things you did. As you straddled his lap on the couch, your fingers brushing through his hair, you asked casually, “How many kids do you want?” He paused, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile before planting a quick peck on your lips. “One,” he muttered against your mouth, as if it was the most natural answer.
You blinked, taken aback. “That’s it?” you asked, genuinely curious. You expected something a little more ambitious, but there he was, casually dropping his answer like it was no big deal. Jungwon stifled a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Why?” he asked, genuinely curious at your reaction. You puffed out your cheeks in mock frustration. “Why not more? I mean, we’re both working, we can afford it,” you reasoned, trying to make your case.
He nodded, a soft smile still playing at the corners of his lips. “True,” he agreed. “But... the living costs, you know?” You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could get the words out, he pulled you closer, his hands gently resting on your hips. “One is still enough, sweetie,” he whispered, his tone light but affectionate. The sincerity in his eyes melted your protest away. “Fine,” you muttered, resting your forehead against his. “I guess one sounds perfect with you.”
. , NISHIMURA RIKI ☁︎ 리키 !
“Riki, how many kids do you want to have?” you asked casually, mushing against his chest, your arms lazily around his neck in your usual cuddle contentment. His hands are frozen. Random shapes traced on your back now are interrupted mid-motion. Before you could think, he switched positions: he flipped you onto your back and pinned you beneath him in one smooth shift.
“What are you doing?” you squeaked, heart thumping as his dark eyes watched yours. That was when he came closer, softly brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with a teasing smirk that left your stomach feeling some weird emotion. “We just became adults and you are already talking about babies?” he tormented in low teasing tones, the corners of his mouth twitching to stop a laughter. “You're bold, you know that.”
You opened and moved to argue, but he lowered his mouth and pressed a soft, deliberate kiss against your lips. Not to shut you up—this was the kind of kiss that turned your thoughts into mush and spread bright warmth across your cheeks. He pulled away just enough to talk, lips pressed close to yours, and whispered, “Why have kids when we can have fun?”
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ctrlhope · 10 months ago
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Bound By Blood (m)
synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.
k.taehyung x f.reader
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
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The Kim Empire. 
Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.
They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 
He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 
Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 
Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 
You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 
The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 
You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 
You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.
Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 
You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 
You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 
One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 
Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 
You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 
You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 
A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 
It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 
For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 
Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 
How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 
“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.
You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 
Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 
Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 
“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 
Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.
You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 
After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.
“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 
All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 
Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 
The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 
You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.
Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.
You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 
Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 
A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 
He desires an answer.
“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 
You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 
You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 
You think you dislike the feeling. 
“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.
You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 
“I suppose so.” 
He frowns. Try again.
“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 
The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 
Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 
“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 
You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 
“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 
“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 
“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 
“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 
All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 
You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.
“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 
He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 
You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.
Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 
He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.
“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.
When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 
“Purity.”
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Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 
He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.
It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 
Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 
The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 
It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.
You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 
The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 
You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 
It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 
Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 
A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 
“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 
You simply shake your own. 
“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 
“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.
“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 
“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 
You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 
You had not been optimistic since then.
She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 
“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 
You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.
“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 
You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 
Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 
You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.
“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.
“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 
Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 
Ah. It all makes sense now. 
“Oh.”
“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 
Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 
However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 
“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 
She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.
“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.
“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 
You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 
“Good.” 
Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 
Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 
You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 
Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.
Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 
Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 
You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 
You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 
Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 
His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 
He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 
You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!
You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 
His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 
Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 
“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.
It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 
“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 
He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 
“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 
You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.
“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 
His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 
Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.
Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.
They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?
“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.
“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 
“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.
You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.
“Yes. Thank you.” 
You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 
Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.
However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.
“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 
You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 
“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 
“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 
He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.
“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.
“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.
You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 
“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 
“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 
He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 
You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.
Ah. Right. 
The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 
He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 
All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 
Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 
How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 
“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 
If he does, he doesn’t show it. 
“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 
Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 
“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 
“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.
“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 
“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 
“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 
“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.
“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 
He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 
In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 
The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 
You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 
It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 
Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 
In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 
Why did he know your name? 
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It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 
This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 
He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 
You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 
Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.
You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 
Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 
Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.
Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 
You only wish it was that easy.
“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 
The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 
At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 
A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 
Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 
A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 
She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 
You do not like to think of them.
Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 
“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 
Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 
“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 
“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.
This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 
“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 
“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 
“And what am I meant to do?” 
“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 
Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!
You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?
“I understand. It will be dealt with.”
The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 
At least that is what you hope. 
The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 
A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 
He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 
Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 
What a strange feeling it is.
The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.
You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.
Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 
His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 
Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 
You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 
His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 
His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.
Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 
You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 
But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 
You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 
They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 
You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 
“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 
“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 
You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 
The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 
“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 
You pause.
“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 
“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 
You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.
“But if someone were to see them–” 
“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 
Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 
You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.
“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 
“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 
He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.
“Good lamb.”
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You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 
Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 
That is the only logical solution, at least. 
But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 
Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 
It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 
You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 
His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 
You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.
You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 
His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 
You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 
The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.
More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.
Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 
She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.
Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 
You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 
Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 
Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 
Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 
You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.
Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.
It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 
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Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 
The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.
A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 
But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?
A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 
So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?
No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.
Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 
Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 
You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.
A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 
You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.
Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 
There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.
But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 
The future king would be a fearsome thing. 
“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 
You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 
“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.
“I– Prince Kim…” 
“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.
“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 
“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.
You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 
That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 
“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 
He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 
Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 
“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 
Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.
“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 
His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 
“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”
You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 
“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 
Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 
You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 
“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.
“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 
It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 
“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 
You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 
A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 
He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 
A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 
Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 
“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 
“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 
“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 
You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.
Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.
“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 
“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 
He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 
“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 
What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 
Oh heavens, oh gods. 
“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 
Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  
It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 
Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.
“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”
The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 
“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 
“What…?” 
His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 
“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 
You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 
In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 
You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 
You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 
You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 
As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.
When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 
His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 
“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 
“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 
Only words you can manage at the revelation.
“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 
The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 
You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 
“Taehyung.” 
“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.
He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 
“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”
He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 
He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 
“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 
You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 
With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 
Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 
His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 
His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 
Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 
The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.
The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.
This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 
The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 
“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 
Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 
When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 
Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.
For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 
He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 
He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 
He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 
God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.
“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 
O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 
His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 
When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 
“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 
Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 
You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.
His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 
“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.
“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 
The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 
“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 
His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 
You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 
Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 
He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 
A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 
Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 
You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 
His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.
All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 
He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.
It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.
His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 
A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 
You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 
Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 
His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 
Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.
“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 
He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 
It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 
Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 
Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 
He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 
“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 
You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 
He will not have you running away. 
Not now. 
Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 
He is. 
He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 
Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.
He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.
“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 
Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 
He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 
His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”
Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 
Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.
You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 
“Please.” 
He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.
Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 
But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.
One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 
Not yet.
He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 
He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 
“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 
He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 
He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 
So sensitive. So ready for him. 
As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 
He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 
His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 
He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 
A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 
He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 
You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 
Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 
Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.
“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.
But he holds restraint. Just enough.
The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 
He is falling apart before you, because of you. 
He has gone mad because of you.
The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.
You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 
He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.
You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 
“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 
He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.
“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 
Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?
His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.
You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 
With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 
“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 
He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 
Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.
He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.
Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.
“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 
“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 
He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 
“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 
That is close enough to the truth, anyway.
“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 
Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.
“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 
He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.
His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 
“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 
“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 
He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 
It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.
“Who are you going to marry?” 
You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?
“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 
“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 
“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 
“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 
Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.
“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 
“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.
“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 
“Who do you belong to?” 
“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 
His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 
Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 
You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 
Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 
“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 
Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 
“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.
Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.
“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 
“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 
“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.
You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.
“Goodnight my lamb.”
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The Kim Empire. 
His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.
Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 
When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.
He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.
At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.
Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 
It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 
But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.
He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.
He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 
Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 
But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 
Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 
God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.
If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.
You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 
It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 
He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.
You are bound to him by blood after all.
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remindertoclick · 6 months ago
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Here's your daily reminder to click for Palestine!!!
U.S. residents, take 5 minutes and use this link to pressure your members of Congress to stop sending weapons to the Israeli military!!
(Letter variants you can copy/paste under the cut!!)
Original letter written by Jewish Voice for Peace:
I am writing as your constituent to ask that you do everything in your power to press the Biden administration to suspend all weapons shipments to the Israeli military, and oppose all future military funding to Israel. The Israeli government has vowed to push forward with a large-scale military operation in Rafah, even though President Biden has repeatedly said such an operation would be a "red line." On May 7, the Israeli military seized the Rafah border crossing, a crucial passage for humanitarian aid, and ordered 100,000 Palestinians in eastern Rafah to evacuate. The 1.3 million displaced Palestinians sheltering in Rafah will have nowhere to flee should a full invasion commence. Millions of Palestinian lives now hang in the balance. I urge you to do everything in your power to stop this unfolding catastrophe before it's too late. Thank you.
Slight variations I created (so that emails don't get marked as spam for being identical to each other)
Variation 1:
I'm writing to you today as your constituent to ask you to do everything you can to put pressure on the Biden administration to suspend all weapons shipments to the Israeli military and opposing any and all future military funding to Israel! The Israeli government is pushing forward with a large-scale military operation in Rafah. President Biden has repeatedly said such an operation would be a "red line," yet his administration is still supporting this operation. On May 7th, the Israeli military seized the Rafah border crossing, a crucial passage for humanitarian aid, and forced 100,000 Palestinians in eastern Rafah to abandon their homes. 1.3 million Palestinians have been displaced. Those sheltering in Rafah have nowhere to flee during a full invasion. Millions of Palestinian lives now hang in the balance. Their fate lies in the hands on Congress, in your hands. I urge you to do everything in your power to stop this unfolding catastrophe before it's too late. Thank you.
Variation 2:
I'm writing you today to ask that you do everything in your power to convince the Biden administration to stop funding Israel. We have to telk them to stop all shipments of weapons to the Israeli military and oppose all future military funding to Israel. The Israeli government has vowed to push forward with a large-scale military operation in Rafah... President Biden made it clear that such an operation would be a "red line," and yet he continues to fund them. On May 7th, the Israeli military seized the Rafah border crossing, a crucial passage for humanitarian aid, and forced 100,000 Palestinians to flee their own home of Eastern Rafah. Should a full invasion commence, 1.3 million displaced Palestinians sheltering in Rafah will have nowhere safe to go. Millions of Palestinian lives now hang in the balance. I am begging you now, as your constituent, to do everything in your power to stop this unfolding catastrophe before it's too late.... Thank you.
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dolicekiss · 6 months ago
Text
From Friend To Foe
PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen X Strong!fem!Reader
CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), noncon, virgin!reader, possessive aemond, friends to enemies, childhood friends, reader is from house strong, dragon riding (also riding Aemond), unprotected sex (p in v), forced kissing, breeding, angst, threats, humiliation, reader has dark hair, hair pulling, slapping, cunnilingus, mention of forced marriage, attempted murder.
SYNOPSIS: Aemond and you were childhood friends, you being the daughter of a lord and him being the Targayen prince. When the Greens and Blacks went against each other, your father’s sworn fealty to the blacks became an obstacle in your friendship and when your father was defeated, army overthrown — you were taken prisoner, kneeled before the Targaryen prince who was once your closest friend.
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Swords clashed, dragon roared and knights fell after fighting bravely.
All you could do was sit idle in your room and await the promise of a better future. Only it did not come and when silence haunted the grounds of Harrenhal and everything came to a halt, you were certain your family had lost the fight.
You were mere humans, with no possession of such an almighty being.
Dragons were Gods. To be worshiped and prayed — and one was prominently flying over the remains of Harrenhal.
Belonging to none other than Aemond Targaryen, who was once your beloved friend with whom you dreamt of riding on a dragon.
Aemond had promised you when you were younglings. A promise that once he has claimed himself a dragon, you would be the first person he'd take for a flight.
The irony of the situation broke your heart.
The same dragon had left your castle and people in ruins — Vhagar’s loud wails filling up the sky with terror. You knew very well that now your army had fallen, your father definitely slain, you were going to face the same fate as many women during war did.
A prisoner, meat for Aemond’s men.
The door was slammed open and you turned around in a swift motion, finding your servant standing there. A look of horror adorning her once serene features. “It is done. The Targaryen prince has won and we are the only ones left.”
Tears blurred your vision. You did not remember reaching for the sharp blade which you had placed on your side table, an escape from all the atrocities you would eventually be forced to face by the hands of your own closest friend.
War was war.
And with the stories of Aemond’s cruelty circulating about, you knew very well than to beg for mercy or even expect it. Long gone was the sweet prince who made you promises of protection, a dragon and long lasting friendship.
He was your foe now.
An enemy who had slayed the men of your house, your own blood.
As you attempted to cut your own throat, a hand prevented you from doing so. Guards, of house Targaryen. Your face paled and your tears finally rushed down your face in glossy streaks, your one chance of escape taken from you.
The men restrained you but you screamed, struggled even. To break free and somehow draw the blade closer to your throat, only a small cut and you would disappear. You did not care if this was considered weak, you were willing to do just about anything to keep your dignity and honor.
To not be some slave for a man to put his cock in.
“Stay still, woman!” One of the guards berated you but you didn't listen, worming in their grasp.
“Let me go! Release me, right now.” Your screams echoed in the expanse of your chamber as well as the castle and Aemond heard them too.
He had ordered the demise of everyone, everyone besides you. There was this ache, this need to lay his eye upon you for the first time in awhile. Last time he saw you when you were nine, a beautiful little girl who often came to the red keep with her father — member of the council.
Aemond and your friendship flourished when you defended him against Aegon, comforting him to not lose all hope for a dragon. It was you who encouraged him, who provided him with the mental strength to claim Vhagar.
Your words of strength lingered in the back of his mind when he took claim of the largest dragon.
And now he had caused destruction with the same dragon.
Fate had brought you both to this. Ruined every good thing which was left in his life and he knew that you would never, ever forgive him for destroying your home.
You were kind, loving, sweet. Rebellious too but always stood your ground and believed in achieving justice, by any means. Aemond wondered how you'd grown, how you appeared as an adult now.
Did you braid your dark hair the same way as his Targaryen sister did, since you'd grown so fond of their silver hair? Were your eyes still the same onyx dark as your hair, a stark contrast to his own purple ones and was your choice in clothes still so dreadful? Curiosity pinched at his abdomen.
Your screams boomed through Harrenhal and Aemond felt proud of your resistance, only he had no knowledge of what you were resisting for so prominently.
He had no idea all your desperation and fight was to end your life.
The guards pulled you apart, their blood stained hands managing to rip off the side of your dress which concealed your shoulder during all the commotion to get you to release the blade. You somehow managed to free yourself from one of the guard’s unbearable grip and slashed his face with the blade.
“Ah, you fucking bitch.” He screamed, holding his face with one hand while the other tried to reach for you.
Another guard extracted his revenge, striking you across your face and tugging at the already torn fabric, exposing more of your back.
Your face contorted in pain, wishing to rid yourself off this world. “Don't fucking touch me. Unhand me and I will slaughter you lot like pigs.”
Your threats were larger than your size and some guards found you amusing while some knew you were capable of what you had promised them. A hand reached for your wrist, to tame it but not being able to pry open your clingy fingers around the dagger with all their strength.
Your fingers had paled, losing all their pink hue and the blood had stopped pumping through the small veins. That was how strong your grip around the weapon was.
Being carried down the stairs, your gaze took in the sight of the place that was once your home. Broken and hopeless, you were dragged along to the main hall. Rain pattered over the stones, causing a nauseating feeling in your stomach as you took in the situation of your castle.
Thankfully, your blurry vision did not allow you to take more of the destruction. All you noticed was the daunting figure of your enemy, standing pridefully at the center of the hall, awaiting your arrival.
You were pushed towards someone, forced on your knees and the silky silver strands gave away at the person's identity. Prince Aemond Targaryen stood before you, with his back turned to you and hands clasped behind his back.
You attempted to gather the pieces of your torn dress, holding it over your chest since it was ripped evidently in the back. Aemond upon turning around, did not expect you to be in such ruins. Dress torn apart, dark hair all but a mess and he caught glimpse of the silver rings encircled around your strands.
Now in a complete frenzy.
The same silver you always wore in your hair, around your little braids.
Aemond glanced up at his guards and then back at you, watching you. Demeanor phlegmatic, lips sitting tediously on his face.
You didn't dare to lift up your eyes. It wasn't about possessing enough courage to look him in the eye but having no self control. You knew deep down if you looked at him, you'd lose all control and attack him.
“I don't recall ordering you lot to bring her in such a..” Aemond tilted his head, analyzing the state you were in. “disheveled state.”
“She fought back a lot, my Prince. Intended to cut her throat with that little blade of hers in her hand.” Aemond was slightly taken aback from the revelation but you were right to choose that as an option. Everyone in this room knew what happened to women during war, especially the beautiful ones such as yourself.
The highborns were craved more as they carried noble blood within them.
His one eye fell upon the blade you still held with great vigor in your hand and Aemond nearly snickered. You had not let go of that adamant personality of yours, carrying it with you in adulthood.
Aemond did not like how your beautiful skin was exposed to the lecherous eyes of his guards. This abrupt jealousy even left him bemused for a moment, nonetheless he diverted his attention back to you.
He stepped closer — frame towering over yours and you saw the perfect moment to attack him. A feeble and thoughtless action but it was either succumbing to horrors or extracting revenge. In a fraction of mere seconds, you had risen up from your knees and headed for him with the pointy end of the dagger in his direction.
The guards reached for you and before you could possibly injure the Prince regent, his fingers enveloped your wrist. With potent strength and fast reflexes, Aemond held you in place. A mischievous glint flashed in his one good eye, lips curving up in a malicious smirk.
He saw the raw hatred and hunger for revenge in your eyes — your hand unwavering and stable. You meant the attack. Nowhere was it under the sad emotions of losing your family.
“Bold of you to assume this would work on me, Dōna.” Aemond whispered, face only a few inches apart from yours. Only the dagger separating you. You acknowledged the name he'd called you, from when you were children and the anger inside you was fuelled more. (Sweet)
“Have I not trained in front of you, hm? Did you not see me wield a sword whenever you stayed in the red keep?”
You glared at him. “I will kill you, either with poison or with a dagger. It is my promise to you, tyrant.”
“From raqiros to tyrant? You truly have grown, my Dōna.” He whispered malevolently, his warm breath with its own mind caressing the bridge of your nose, nearly with affectionate. (Friend)
Having spent most of your childhood in the red keep with the targaryens, especially Aemond, he was bound to teach you some high valyrian. You knew what raqiros meant, but he had never unveiled the meaning behind the nickname he gave you. Promising you he would once you two are grown enough.
Aemond looked up from your face to his men who stood on guard. Three of them, big and broad. His eyes raked over their hands and as he imagined those same hands mishandling you, ripping away at your clothes and prying open the corset which held your dress together, his jaw clenched.
“Ser Criston Cole,” he called out and the commander responded, head held high.
Aemond’s hand still prevented you from moving an inch, the pointy end of the dagger only a few inches away from his glistening, pale cheek.
“Behead them.” It was a simple command but it instilled fear in everyone in the room, including you. Even the commander was surprised by such a gruesome order and dared to ask. “Forgive me, my Prince but why?”
Aemond locked gaze with you. “They dared to lay hands on my prize, unveiled her dignity.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the Commander nodded, passing the order to his other guards. You heard the sounds of constant struggle, similar to yours as their pleas to live fell upon deaf ears.
“My Prince, please! Spare us, we were only acting upon your order!”
They were ignored, as Aemond continued to stare at you. His purple eye dropping to your lips for a second. He released you and you, on instinct, stepped back with the dagger still in your hand. It was proven that combat was definitely not how you could take down the prince.
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Aemond had forced you to come along to the premises of Harrenhal, where his dragon rested. Strained and tired from the war she had indulged in. You had never seen Vhagar up close but knew that she was the second largest dragon, her first rider being Visenya Targaryen.
Your lips shuddered the more closer you were pulled next to the sleeping dragon.
“She can smell fear.” Aemond reminded you, staring ahead. “Conceal it unless you wish to burn to ashes.”
You inhaled a deep breath, closing your eyes and hoping to put an end to the growing fear in the presence of Vhagar.
When you opened your eyes, you were more calm now and in the right state of mind to admire the beast’s beauty. She was gorgeous, a shade of bronze mixed with green and blue highlights. Green, fierce eyes staring ahead and you would have congratulated Aemond on claiming a dragon if only the circumstances were different.
“You will ride with me to King’s Landing.”
“I will not.” You spat, taking a step back from him. That didn't seem to please Aemond as he closed the distance between you and grasped your arm, holding you in place. “Yes, you will.”
“I would rather be fed to your hounds than ride with you upon the back of the dragon which destroyed my home.” Your tone was venomous, full of anger and spite. Aemond knew there was no way calming you down or ridding you of your anger, so he did the next best thing that came to mind.
His slim hands slithered across your waist as he picked you up, settling you down on the dragon’s back. Vhagar released a roar and Aemond whispered something to her in high valyrian, causing her to calm down. Her head settling down, to rest.
He moved in front of you, taking a seat as well. “Hold on tight.”
You glued your hands to your sides, completely ignoring him. Aemond released a frustrated growl at your adamant behavior and lack of pliancy. He reached behind to grab your arms with his gloved hands, forcefully circling them around his small waist.
“Let go of me.” You struggled and Aemond looked back at you with irritation all over his beautiful face. “Do you wish to succumb to your death by falling? If so, feel free to let go.”
That was a lie as Aemond had already tied you to him with the brown belt — locking you with him. Even if you were to let go of him, his body weight restricted on his dragon would prevent you from falling and eventually meeting your demise. This was merely to get you to touch him.
To feel you against him, with little to no distance.
Your lips settled in a frown as you tightened your hold around him causing Aemond to grin. He patted his dragon’s back and then spoke. “Sōvēs, Vhagar.” (Fly)
The dragon shifted on its legs, preparing for the flight and you gasped when you felt it move more beneath you. Subconsciously, your fingers gripped the leather tunic of Aemond, chest pressing tightly over his broad back. Terror filled you as the dragon finally took flight, its huge wings flapping and the force of it made you realize how easy it must have been for Aemond to ruin your house.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, closing your lids shut and burying your face in Aemond’s shoulders.
This is exactly how he had anticipated your first ride on a dragon with him all these years, how you'd react to the beast moving and roaring. Your subtle touches, adorable reactions and soft sounds were just as Aemond had pictured them in his mind.
And he was fulfilling his promise to you.
Until now, Aemond never allowed anyone to ride with him. Only you were the exception and as gruesome the enmity between the two of you was, he could not simply suppress the overwhelming feelings he'd always harbored.
“Aemond..” You whispered, as the dragon took flight and it left you screaming. “Aemond! I'm fucking terrified.”
One hand holding onto his seat, the other reached over and settled on your hand around his chest. In an attempt to comfort you as Vhagar flew into the depths of the sky, Harrenhal nothing but a small scenery when you opened your eyes to look down at it.
A lone tear slid down your face.
This was not how you wished to ride with Aemond.
You hated him, disgust all over your face when you noticed how little and inferior everything appeared from up here. No wonder the Targaryens burned people and houses, as they felt superior being this close to Gods than the rest of you.
“Calm down, Dōna.” He said to you when his dragon had finally flew for King’s Landing.
You didn't say anything, only loosened your hold around him after realizing how awfully close were you to him.
Aemond noticed that and didn't like it.
“Vēzot, Vhagar. Vēzot.” Upon hearing Aemond’s command, the dragon changed route and flew high up in the air, going up tearing through the grey clouds. In fear of falling, your arms once again found themselves around the dragon rider’s small waist. (Up)
You had no idea what Aemond had said but it made his dragon fly up, defying gravity and leaving you gasping for air.
With a satisfied smile on his face, Aemond relished in the feeling of power he had over you and the power he'll soon have over others too. It was painfully evident his brother was incompetent and if something were to befall him, it would be Aemond next in line to inherit the throne.
Never did you ever think or expect that you would be brought back to the red keep as a prize, a symbol of victory — a slave most definitely for Aemond after how he behaved last time with the guards last time. He did not allow anyone to look at you, to touch you, besides your maidens who helped you doll up for the Prince.
His possessiveness was very well known to you when you both were children but you had expected him to grow out of it. How foolish of you to assume that.
Aemond was a possessive child. You recalled the time where he had forbade his siblings from playing with you — or when he did not let anyone touch his sword or even wield it. You remembered how the future lord of Casterly Rock was treated only because he had dared to pass a compliment to Aemond’s sword.
You could hear the cheers of the smallfolk and it disgusted you. He only won against you and your family, not the Blacks. It repulsed you how he was supporting a usurper and not the rightful heir. Your father died for the cause of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you would do too in a heartbeat.
You were lead inside the Red keep after the notorious flight with Aemond. The Prince’s orders were to his servants were to lead you to his own chambers and clean you up. You had no idea why, but you were not going to comply easily.
“I am not your mistress.” Your voice boomed loudly in the main hall, causing Aemond’s footsteps to come to a halt. “Neither am I your whore. Kill me because I too support Rhaenyra Targaryen’s claim to the throne. I shall die a honorable death as my father and kin did.”
You had dared to speak to him, like that, in the presence of not only the Queen but even the other council members.
Aemond’s hands balled up into fits. “Take her.”
You were forcefully dragged somewhere while you struggled, piercing screams enough to damage one's ears. Before you were pulled in a corridor, you made a promise. “I will get my revenge, Aemond Targaryen. You shall answer for the blood of my family that stains your hands. I will never forgive you!”
Alicent followed her son, your threats still lingering in her mind. You had screamed them with tremendous agony and will. She worried, for the kingdom.
“Do you believe you would be doing the realm anything good by bringing a blood thirsty enemy here?” Alicent questioned as she followed Aemond into the room where the council took place.
His fists shook, with poorly tamed rage. “She is anything but a weak girl.”
Alicent scoffed. “She is openly screaming threats. Either a fool would do that or a person who has got absolutely nothing to lose, Aemond.”
“Her screams will quiet down once I have managed to put a child in her.” Aemond spat at his mother, placing his sword down on the table.
She was appalled at what her son had evolved into. The monster he'd become and somewhere she doubted her own motherly skills.
You were forced into a beautiful, pale dress – the fabric as thin as a sheer curtain – after your bath. The maids obviously did not provide you with anything which could conceal your body in the see through white dress. It had embroidery done on the front, so it somewhat worked to cover your breasts.
But the longer it extended, the more it revealed everything underneath.
Pieces of your wavy dark hair were pinned behind, some braided with silver rings clipped around.
The maids soon excused themselves, leaving you to your solitude. Your body felt cold from the lack of clothes so you moved over to stand before the fireplace. Arms sliding up and down your frame to warm up yourself.
Truth to be told, you were suffering with trepidation. Were you prepared to sleep, to head to bed? But why in Aemond’s chambers? All sorts of vile and impure thoughts came rushing in your mind as you tried to keep them at bay.
The doors were soon opened and there stood Aemond, in a different set of clothes. You immediately stepped back, albeit him standing far away from you. He noticed that but no matter how many walls you tried to build between you two, Aemond was determined to break and crush each and every one of those.
He appeared enamored with you.
You were nothing less than an angel, standing underneath the moonlight illuminating your frame.
“Is this what you brought me here for, Prince Regent? To dress me up and warm your bed late at night?” You questioned with disgust and Aemond stepped froward.
You immediately retreated. “Do not dare to come any closer. I will not be one of your whores.”
“What makes you think I would let you become one of my whores?” Aemond asked with a soft tone. Your beauty had soothed all his irritation but it also ignited a fire within his core.
“You're a monster.” You whispered. “You have become a tyrant, a beast worse than those dragons of yours. It is a pity.”
Aemond was losing his patience with you. He didn't waste time, snapping and running towards you. The man pinned you against the wall, knocking over a vase resting on a table besides you. Pain bloomed in your back from the hardness of the wall — and being slammed into it.
The targaryen man locked eyes with you and let out a smile of satisfaction, witnessing the fear swimming in your innocent gaze. “Pity? You dare pity me when you are left with nothing of your house, nothing.”
The cruel reminder caused tears to well up in your eyes but your gaze stayed locked with Aemond’s. It did not waver and with all your strength, you pushed him away from you.
“I hate you.” You confessed, tears sliding down your face, a testament to the pain you were battling. “You were my friend, my fucking friend. How could you do this to me, to me? Your fucking Dōna, Aemond.”
When he heard the high valyrian word escape your lips, he growled. You saw him take a step further and this time decided to make a run for the door, trying to crawl over the bed hastily but Aemond was fast, vigilant as he grabbed you.
You fought back, slapping and punching him but it didn't work at all. He shoved his lips against yours and he did not care that you didn't want this. He wanted it, that was all that mattered. Aemond’s tongue forcefully entered your mouth as your hands continuously punched his chest.
He pushed you down on the both whilst staying locked to you, tasting your plump lips with vigor.
Head tilted, he pushed open your thighs and buried his knee between them. Rutting it against your cunt and you released a muffled cry in the liplock, hoping he would show some mercy but Aemond was too far gone.
The pressure on your clit – sheer fabric the cause of you and Aemond’s separation – was intense. A burgeoning need lighting up in your core as you struggled. There was no way you would give in, no matter how much you had admired him when you both were children. You knew better. You were only the daughter of some lord, meanwhile he was the Prince.
The fight for dominance was already won by Aemond as his tongue explored the inside of your sweet flesh. He broke apart from you to gaze upon you, a mess he'd turned you into. Face flushed, lips swollen and bloodied from how harshly he had sunk his canines into them.
Your dark hair with glinting silver in pure disarray, spread about everywhere on the bed. Aemond was fucking drunk and there was no stopping him.
“You said I'm a monster, right?” His voice was eerily low, causing you to panic. “I shall show you what monstrosity I am capable of.”
He tore the dress in a single tug, discarding the two pieces somewhere on the ground. Fear evident in your enlarged eyes as you struggled to conceal yourself with your arms but Aemond held them above your head, his fingers roughly pressing into your skin leaving marks.
“Aemond, please.” Tears fell and Aemond nearly softened.
If you'd been kind to him like how you were in the past, this compromising situation wouldn't have fallen you. He would've let you live, be a maid in the red keep but now, he had to prove it to you.
Just what he was capable of.
“Aemond,” you sweetly called out, hoping it would work. “My prince, don't do this. You do not wish to do this.”
“Too late for that sweet tone, my lady. If you do not wish for worse, I suggest you shut your goddamn mouth and take it.” His voice was so soft, so low but his words were as repulsive and cruel. It was what Aemond had become. A broken boy who sought out solace but was too afraid to ask for it, fearful of seeming weak — yet again becoming a target of his brother’s constant bullying.
In the process of becoming what he hated, Aemond lost you too.
One eye raked over your exposed breasts, full and round. You were no longer the little girl who used to chase him around the red keep, in her long dresses. You had flourished, flowered with grown tits and when his eye fell lower, he inhaled sharply. Plush, meaty thighs greeted them. He recalled how at one point you were as skinny as a boy, with no fat to your lean frame.
Now you had blossomed in a beautiful woman.
Your skin glowed neath the moonlight, your presence basking in its light. It showcased all the little minorities your features carried, what you had become, the delicate beauty that you were.
“You are certainly no little girl no more.” He reminded you, words no less than salt over your sounds.
Tears pearled on your waterline. “And you've grown into a fine man yourself.”
Your words were carried on obvious pain and Aemond pretended he did not catch a whiff of that. You continued, with a wavering voice, drained from all your rebellion and fight. “Fine but cruel, Aemond. I thought you were different, ought to be different. You proved me wrong.”
“Keep your lips sealed.” Aemond commanded, as your words nearly made his will to defile you falter. Being the daughter of a high lord, he was certain your maidenhead was still intact. You were never the type to engage in lecherous actions before the pure promise of a marriage.
Aemond’s rough hands took a handful of your breasts, fondling the fat. Thumbs swiping over your peebles, sending them upright. Undeniable pleasure shot through your body in the form of swarming heat as it settled in your lower stomach. A prominent gasp tore from your parted, swollen lips as Aemond stared at you in adoration.
“They are so full.” His comment about your body your pleasure-clad face form into one of grimace. “I wonder how your cunt looks now that you are older. You were always too innocent to consider our friendship anything more than what it was.”
Your back arched off the bed, the writhing of your hips increasing whenever Aemond rubbed his knee over your tiny pearl. You felt it swell up with need and wanton, a dull ache growing, begging to be burned out. The silver haired male pried your thighs open to lay eye on your pink cunt.
Aemond licked a wet tongue over his lips, his hunger to taste your seemingly delicious core pressing at him. He never once got overwhelmed with the urge to put his mouth on a woman's cunt — as the woman he got involved with whores. He had no interest in tasting something where most men found solace in.
But you were a virgin.
He knew that.
Yet he asked, surely to rile you up. “Has anyone been inside of you yet?”
Your eyes widened at the repulsive question of his. Brows scrunching in disgust and the rosette on your cheeks transcending into beetroot. Before you could control your imminent action, a strike echoed in the chambers. Tears had stalled, replaced with a hateful searing look and when Aemond recovered from the slap and faced you, chills enveloped you. Despite the impact, he was still poised. Eyes sheened with darkness and pure rage, his hand moved to reciprocate the harsh movement.
Only his slap hurt more — a scorching sensation awakening below your skin. A hint of red in the form of a hand imprinted on your face.
“Answer my question.”
You shook your head. Not only had the slap worked wonders to make you more pliant, it also made you realize that what Aemond was capable of.
His fingers ran along the line of your plumped up lips. “Use this pretty mouth of yours.”
“I'm not a low born.” You said through gritted teeth. “I'm chaste. Check for yourself if you are disbelieving of me.”
Aemond let out a scoff, fingers dimpling into your cheeks. The angry pout on your lips along with his hand print left behind on your cheek made you look ten times more endearing to him. “That I plan on doing, my lady.”
Hands lowering to your thighs, fingers dipping in the thickness. Aemond nestled his head between them, eyes gliding over your glistening cunt. It was true that you were still chaste and he was sure of it, there was no need to check it. He softly ran his tongue over your pearl, a sharp breath from you entering his ears.
“I don't want this.” Your tone had a hint of plea in it. “Please, Aemond. It is too repulsive, I cannot—”
Aemond growled. “Cannot, what? You cannot allow my cock inside you? Cannot allow me to put a babe in you? Or won't allow me to simply because I'm Aemond.”
“Targaryen with the largest dragon who put an end to my family line.” You finished, vision blurring. Aemond knew this conversation was pointless to carry and he instead closed his lips around your swollen bud, suckling like it would produce the sweetest of nectars in existence.
You tried to fight him off, pushing at his shoulders with the little strength left in your small fingers to no avail. He sucked with great vigor and your demeanor fell — back rising up from the ruined mattress and hips pushing your mound further into his cage. He pulled back, lapping at your swollen clit over and over again, like a dog in heat. Tears furiously caressed down your face as Aemond’s fingers came to collect your arousal from the center of your folds.
By the Gods, you were a waterfall.
“Never did I think I would grow this addicted to the taste of a woman's cunt.” Aemond whispered, his warm breath shooting jolts of pleasure through you. Your hand on its own accord pressed onto his head, palm flaccid and fingers twisting his Targaryen strands around. “The more I taste you, the more famished I become.”
“G-Get off me.” You somehow managed to utter. You were mortified. How your body ached for him to continue, hand forcing his mouth against your hot heat whilst the heavy fists of your morals thudded on the door of your hazed mind.
All but a futile endeavor to fight back.
Aemond pulled back and reached for his slacks, undoing them. You watched with a dazed out look as he released his cock from the confines of his breeches. His fingers moving to curve under the hem of his shirt, ridding himself of the leather as well as his small clothes.
Left bare and naked before you, your gaze caught Aemond’s searing red cock. Head swollen and shining with leaking cum, veins traced up and down. You closed your eyes, in hopes that the nightmare before you would be over but that was only you losing last remnants of your hope.
“I-It won't fit.” You whispered to yourself, more tears sliding down your temples.
Aemond heard it, despite your voice being a low whisper. He reached over to grab your face between his large hand, fingers sinking into your cheeks. That caused you to flutter your weak lids open, staring back at him with a sheen in your pupils. “It will fit. Your maidenhead is still intact, so it might be painful. But who cares?”
Your bottom lip quivered as Aemond let go, holding his cock. He guided it across your wet slit, pushing its thick head past your folds and pressing into your pearl. Your breath was bated, perspiration dancing on your forehead. Your body had grown completely warm and you wished for someone, anyone to burn down the fire which was ignited in the fireplace.
Aemond gathered your arousal, in soft circulation around your pebble. You whined out, hands slapping at his broad shoulders to put an end to his obscenities. Yet he did not falter, will growing more profound and strengthened to a point of no return.
He soon aligned his cock along your hole with the disgusting intention to defile it and slipped in. Your walls squeezing around his cock head tightly, endeavoring to grow used to the size but Aemond did not wait. He pushed and your tears of sadness had now transformed into tears of pain.
Hot searing pain.
“It hurts, it hurts. Let me go, please let me go.” You cried, screamed even, nails scratching rapidly at his chest. You left evidence of your firmness, of your distaste for such degeneration. Long lacerations formed on a pale canvas as Aemond held you down with one hand circled around your throat while the other had pushed your leg up for more easy and open access.
You were crying relentlessly and it was beginning to annoy the young Prince. “Quiet now, or I will have your tongue.”
“I-It is too p-painful.” You sobbed and this time Aemond landed a tight slap to your other cheek, watching it imitate the shade of the other one. “I said, fucking quiet. If I hear anything other than sounds of pleasure out of these lips of yours, I will toss you to my guards.”
It was an empty threat.
Aemond would never, ever do that. You were for him, only him. Insignificant your view was about him.
You were his prize, a sign of victory.
Still Aemond stalled, not having the heart to pummel his cock fully into you. All he managed was to breach your maidenhead and you were already wailing like you'd been shot with an arrow. He waited it out, letting you grow accustomed to his length and thickness.
Once your agony-clad face recovered and softened, Aemond took it as a sign to move further. Your gummy walls sucking his cock in, caressing the rigid veins. Deeper, and deeper. He went slowly and carefully, which you didn't overlook. You felt him sheath his cock fully into you, arms extended out for him, in complete submission.
Aemond, silently surprised by such vulnerability and submission, took your hands into his and brought them to his nape. “Hold me, brace yourself, Dōna.”
That sweet tone of his.
It nearly warmed your heart but the constant reminder which took at Harrenhal haunted you like a ghost. A cursed bestowed upon you, no escape at all. Aemond melted within you, nestling against your spongey spot of nerves. Your lips fell when he found that sensitive spot of yours.
He didn't waste time pummeling his cock into your weeping cunt, growls of a beast escaping him. You could not bring yourself to look at him. Pulling him closer, you concealed your face within the crook of his neck as your hold clasped around his slender nape — fingers intertwining with silver roots. Aemond had only tried Sylvie, his first and last so when he felt you draw him closer, it ignited a fire impossible to end.
“Gods,” Aemond groaned in your ear, his sharp nose running along your cheek, both hands gripping your flesh. “If I had known laying with you would be this pleasurable, I would have done it when we were younglings.”
Disgust would have made path on yout face it it was not for the pleasure Aemond bestowed upon you. His thick cock head repeatedly bruised your cervix and all you could do was wail, your hold for dear life tightening around him. Aemond found delight on your innocent moans, your sweet little hiccups and sounds of pleasure. He pulled from you, to glance down and felt immense satisfaction at the ring of blood around his length. He had officially taken you, not exactly under the circumstances he wanted but pondering about that was futile now.
His one eye stayed focused on you. Examining the lines donning your forehead, dark brows furrowed and a sheen of sweat sitting on your forehead. Pale cheeks flustered and saccharine sweet lips parted, birthing little sounds.
An epitome of nobility and charm you were.
Aemond pulled out of you, just as you were beginning to reach your pounding climax.
He leaned on the head board of the bed, chest glistening with droplets of sweat. The fire crackling was not helping neither of you to find some cold. “Get on top of me.”
You weakly shook your head.
Aemond’s glare obliged you and you shifted on the bed, crawling on top of him. In the process, you caught the blood of your purity staining the pale bed sheets, as well as your thighs. A burning sensation prodded and you finally did what Aemond asked you to do. The evil man grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple.
“I'm sure you know your job here.”
Your lips trembled. “I-I am supposed to sit on it?”
Innocently you had voiced that question and Aemond almost cooed. He gave you a simple nod and watched as your cheeks burned with newfound embarrassment. You still did what you were told to, aware that fighting him back on this would only make him revoke the small kindness he'd shown you.
You grabbed a hold of his erect cock — pressing it over your soaked hole. As you slipped down on it, Aemond and you groaned in unison.
Your small hands found support on his bleeding chest, fingers swiping over his nipples accidentally and Aemond let out a choked gasp. The feeling of your walls clamping his cock mixed with the way your fingers brushed over his nipples was enough to send him fucking into you. Thrusting upwards into you while his large hand stayed locked on your hip.
Both of you moved simultaneously, greedily chasing after your own pleasure. Aemond saw a goddess in front of him — a weeping goddess who possessed the cunt of a hungry whore. Your small waist and bare tits bouncing with each move had him obsessed like a dog.
“Fuck, fuck, Dōna.”
He panted like his dragon, matching your pace with his, hand fondling your breasts. He was close but ripping an orgasm through you first was his priority and he was dedicated to it. Aemond felt your cunt squeeze him, watching as your tears fell in little pearls. “I am going to put a babe in you, Dōna. Can you believe it? Your childhood friend putting a babe in you.”
You couldn't even voice out your disagreement, Aemond was bound to do what he promised you. An intense feeling surged in your stomach, your pace slowing down and your sobbing growing more and more. Your orgasm tore through you in the form of essence, as your eyes disappeared behind your lids.
“Aemond, Aemond! Aemond.” You chanted his name out like a mantra and he slapped his cock deeper into you.
He fucking loved how submissive you were being now — entirely at his mercy and neath him. His own climax followed thoroughly, filling your walls with his spend. Spurting our rope after rope of white to fill up your expanded womb. Growls of need and ache echoed in the room and you couldn't stay still anymore, losing all your balance and colliding right in his chest.
Your little body was spent, fatigue and tiredness weakening you. Aemond was quick to wrap his arms around you, shushing you gently while you cried in his chest.
“It's over now.” He reassured but you knew very well that it was not. It was only for tonight that it was over.
Aemond comforted you, holding you against him with his cock still inside you.
“I hate you.” You cried, tears coating his chest as your forehead rested on his muscular chest. Aemond could only sigh, loathing the situation that bad befallen them. He did not resent you as you were the only one who had shown him true kindness.
But the war and throne were far more important.
“Rest, you need it.” He said, an order it was and you felt forced to comply. “Things will be very different from now on, Dōna. I will have the high sept marry us tomorrow, our child will not be a bastard.”
All you could do was weakly stir in his arms at that. There was no way you were willing but it was better than being a slave for Aemond’s guards. Being one man's whore was better than being a thousand’s.
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logansdoll · 5 months ago
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37
the fate of the entire world came down to a race against time, the future of all mutants resting on logan's shoulders... but a little detour wouldn't hurt, right?
CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan was kind of an ass, reader is kinda that girl, angst if you squint, idk if i timed the timeline right or not so whatevs, etc.
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"I'm sorry... what are we doing here, again?" Hank asked, confused, as the three men marched through the hallway of an apartment complex.
"I need to find someone," Logan answered, curtly, eyes scanning over the numbers on each door.
'37... 37... 37...'
Charles let out a dry chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose, "See, that's so funny because last I checked you said we were in a crunch for time."
He stopped in his tracks, Hank pausing mid-walk to turn to him, while Logan came to a standstill just ahead.
"If we have time to take detours, then I'm starting to believe the situation isn't as dire as you described."
Hank swallowed thickly, turning to Logan in expectation of some sort of blowout.
Despite having only known the man for a few of hours, he could tell he had a dangerously short fuse, and wouldn't take kindly to Charles's attitude.
And he'd be right.
Whipping around, Logan stormed over and grabbed the telepath by the collar, brows furrowed as he roughly yanked him closer.
"I just got sent back in the past fifty-fucking-years... And before I do another goddamn thing, there is someone I have to see," he growled, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Do you got a problem with that, bub?"
Charles paused a moment, eyes scanning over the man before him.
In that instant, he wanted nothing more than to read his mind—to see what was going on in that complicated head of his.
But, alas, he couldn't, so for the sake of everyone, he settled for the safer option.
"Fine with me," he raised his hands in surrender, letting out a sigh as Logan abruptly let him go, turning to go back to his search. "And if I'm not mistaken... thirty-seven would be about five doors down to your right."
Logan glanced back at him, his expression a cross between annoyed and less annoyed.
He'd deal with him later.
But in the meantime, he sped past the next five doors as fast as he could, turning to his right to see what played the setting to some of his best dreams.
A red door, with paint chipping near the hinges, and a crooked 37 and poorly covered claw marks from when he stumbled in drunk one night.
'Just like I left it...'
It wasn't long before the memories came rolling back, reminding him of what he was coming back to.
"You sure you have to go?" you hummed, gathering the sheets to cover your chest and sitting up in the bed, watching as he put on some pants.
Logan nodded, moving to grab his wife-beater, "Yeah, I got some things to take care of... I should be back in a few days."
Turning toward the bed, he smirked at your sleepy form, your bed-head and tired eyes insanely sexy.
"You know what to do while I'm gone, right?"
"Check the peephole before I open, and aim for the nuts," you recited with a yawn.
He smiled, snatching his leather jacket off your chair before striding toward the bed, placing a quick peck on your lips
"I'll be back soon," he promised, swiping a stray stand of hair out your face.
You smiled, looking up at him through your lashes with your beautiful, (e/c) eyes, "I'll be waiting."
When Logan snapped himself out of it, he was still standing in front of the door, the chunk of wood the only thing keeping you two apart.
He was about to knock, but stopped mid-way, hesitant.
What if you'd moved on? Forgotten him in the meantime...
"I'll be waiting," your words echoed in his head.
He sighed, steeling his nerves, before quickly knocking.
There was a moment of silence before the lock clicked, the knob turning and door swinging open to reveal you.
The air caught in Logan's throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.
You looked even more beautiful than he remembered.
'That was too quick...'
"You didn't check the peephole," he stated, unable to come up with anything else to say.
Without warning, the sound of a particularly harsh slap echoed throughout the hallway, Charles and Hank flinching at the noise.
"Okay, I deserve that."
"You absolute fucking asshole!" you spat, voice disbelieving of the sight in front of you. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"
Because of your mutation you aged like he did, so you weren't exactly younger looking per se, but you had a youthful vibrance to you.
Your hair was sensually tousled—most likely from just waking up—your skin glowing in the mid-morning sunlight, and your silk robe coming up extra high on your legs, along with hanging extra low on your chest.
You looked sexier than any lingerie model out there.
A fact the other two quite agreed with at the moment.
"Hel-lo," Charles smiled, shamelessly, Hank just silently staring.
"Watch it," Logan threatened, venom dripping from his tone as he shifted to stand in front of you, blocking your body from their view.
"You have no business being here," your brows furrowed as you grabbed the door, attempting to shut it. "Get lost."
"(n/n), I came to see you," Logan grunted, shoving his foot between the door and the frame. "Let me in."
"No!" you scoffed, pushing against the door to try and shut him out. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to leave for eight months and then waltz right back in my life like nothing happened!"
"I got into some shit, alright? Some really bad shit... I couldn't bring that back here."
"Then call! Or... Or write! Fuck! I would've been happy with a goddamn carrier pigeon!"
"I didn't have any of that crap—" "For eight months?!"
With a groan, he rolled his shoulder, giving the door a quick blow and knocking it open, forcing you back and allowing him in.
Quickly, you reached your hand out toward your philodendron, sprouting large vines and using them to grab Logan's wrists, holding him in place.
"(y/n), I don't have a lotta time," he grunted, struggling against their hold, to no avail, "Let me go..."
"For eight months," you started, voice small as you approached him, "I thought you were dead."
Logan halted his thrashing, turning to you with a softened look.
Your expression was now one of hurt rather than rage.
"I know the work you do... and after three months of nothing I started thinking the worst..."
You stopped in front of him, turning to the large array of plants carefully placed around the room, making the apartment look more like a greenhouse than anything.
"I used every damn plant in my range to try and find you... and when I got nothing, I knew that you were gone."
Suddenly, you poked a finger into his chest, eyes glazed with relief as you looked upon his face.
A face you'd never thought you'd see again.
"So no... you do not get to come back after all this time just to see me."
Slowly, your hold on his wrists began to loosen, and he lowered his hands, stepping forward to stand right in your space.
"You're a selfish... narcissistic... cocky son of a bitch, and—"
Logan suddenly snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
"And?"
You swallowed thickly, staring up at him with your glassy, doe eyes.
"And I hate you."
He chuckled, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.
"I love you, too, dollface."
And before you could even retort, his lips were on yours, roping you right back into him.
The kiss was hungry... passionate. Like he'd been waiting a lifetime to get his hands on you again.
And he had.
Never in his wildest dreams did Logan ever believe he'd be able to kiss you again... to have you in his arms.
It was worth the detour and more.
Honestly, even if he didn't manage to save the world, he'd die a happy man.
With a gasp, you both broke away from the kiss, your chest heaving as you looked up at the man—who was looking down at you like you'd just hung the sun in the sky.
Slowly, his calloused hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.
"(n/n)... I'm gonna tell you some instructions, and you gotta trust me and follow them to the letter,, alright?" Logan started, seriously.
"What? Logan, what are you—?"
"Please," he pleaded. "I know you don't deserve the shit I put you through, but believe me when I tell you that you need to listen to what I have to say..."
Letting out a slow sigh, you agreed, nodding for him to continue.
"In a month, I want you to pack up your things. Your cloths, your plants, all of it, and travel up to Westchester County, New York," he explained, pulling a crumpled card out his jacket pocket. "Go to this address, and you'll find these guys."
He turned to point at Charles and Hank, who were still standing in the doorway, awkwardly.
"Hello," Hank waved, sweetly.
"They have a huge mansion... and you gotta stay there until I can find my way back."
"Find your way back?" you asked, confused, as you took the card from his hand. "Logan, I don't understand... I don't even know who these guys are..."
"You just have to trust me, doll," he assured, his free hand carding through your hair. "Besides, I don't like you bein' in the city by yourself, anyway—" "We really should be going now," Charles chimed, clearing his throat.
Logan let out a sigh, turning back to you and scanning over your face a final time.
God, you were so beautiful.
"Wait for me a little longer?" he asked, nervous.
But to his surprise, you smiled, your hand sliding down to hold his, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles.
"Against my better judgement..." you sighed, lightheartedly. "You better come back to me, Logan."
He cracked a grin, placing a feather-light kiss on your hairline.
"I always do."
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bonus !! The three men didn't even make it halfway down the hallway before Logan turned to the two, his hardened expression a complete contrast from the smile he flashed you before he left.
"Listen up," he started, voice dangerously low. "Either of you try to make moves on my girl while I'm gone, I will personally come back and mount your head on a spike. Consequences be damned."
Quickly, Charles used what little power he had to scan over Logan's mind, checking to see if he truly meant what he said.
And he did.
In fact, he was so dead serious about the threat that it actually scared Charles quite a bit.
"Got it?"
Charles and Hank turned to each other, sharing the same knowing look.
"Yup."
"Absolutely."
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seospicybin · 5 months ago
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THE BABYSITTER.
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PART II
Felix x reader x Hyunjin. (s,f)
Chapters: Part I
Synopsis: Working as the family's babysitter, you learn a lot from Hyunjin and Felix's happy marriage, including their sex life. (20,2k words)
Author's note: Fair warning! Contain wholesome dad!hyunlix content and saucy threesome. Don't forget to share what you think of this one x
Do you know that Aster means star in Greek but is also the name of a flower? It also happens that stars and flowers are Felix and Hyunjin's favorite things, respectively.
You often think that it's fated there's a word for their combined favorite things and it only makes sense that they made it as a name of their child.
Aster is as beautiful as his name and you couldn't find a toddler smarter and sweeter than him, and even though he wasn't born from his parent's womb, he inherited his parent's features.
Aster has Hyunjin's dark, silky hair and full lips, and Felix's eyes and small button nose, and in all honesty, he also takes after his parent's charms, the sweet smile, and the warm gaze. Other than t, Aster has other exceptional attributes, he is smart, inquisitive, and very well-spoken too.
To put it simply, you get a feeling that Aster will break a lot of hearts in the future.
The afternoon sun casts a warm glow on Aster's milky skin, you're sitting on the grass watching him chasing after a dragonfly with Mandu trailing behind him.
Aster is one happy kid and it makes sense because he's growing up in a family happy, and watching him play secretly heals your inner child.
Exhausted from running, he's waddling his way to you and as he gets closer to you, you catch him in your arms, then sit him on your lap.
"Do you catch the dragonfly?"
"No," he sadly answers, reclining on your chest as he catches his breath from all the running.
As you look up at the sky, you see an airplane looking so small as it flies between the clouds, "Do you see that, Aster?"
He follows to where your finger is pointing and sees it right away, "Airplane!"
"That's right. Airplane!" You proudly say along with a quick kiss on the top of his head.
Aster raises his small hand in the air as if he's trying to catch the airplane in his hand, "Come down here airplane!" He cutely shouts.
"I don't think they can hear you, bubba," you say while brushing his dark locks with your fingers.
"So far away," he mumbles with his head tilted up and his eyes tirelessly following the airplane, "in the sky."
All of a sudden, he gets up from your lap with his hand still raised in the air, "Airplane so far away," he mumbles.
You wrap your hands around him, "Do you love airplanes, Aster."
He stifles a nod then looks over his shoulder at you, "I love airplanes."
"Aster loves airplanes," you repeat and hold him tighter.
He outstretches his arm as far as he can and jumps on his little feet, "Caught it!"
You pretend to be surprised, "You caught the airplane in your hand?"
He fists his hand into a ball and shows it to you, "I caught it."
You hold his little fist with both hands and tell him, "Want to take it home?"
"Take it home. Yes," he answers while scratching his nose.
Aster gets on his toy car and you're pushing it from the back while also holding Mandu's leash, together you're walking back to the house.
"Let's check the mailbox," you say, stopping by the front of the house to check it.
"Want to see," Aster demands, offering his arms at you.
"Okay," you take him by the arms and carry him so he can see inside the mailbox.
"Mails!" He exclaims.
"Would you please take them out for me?"
"Okay," he replies, raking the mails from inside the mailbox and clutching them in his arms.
"You got them all?"
"Yes," he answers, hugging all the mails close to his chest.
The beeping sounds coming from a truck take Aster's attention away and send a couple of mails slipping down his arms. You turn on your feet, looking at the house across the street, and notice that someone is moving in there hence the moving truck.
You pick up the mails and make Aster hold them as you steer the toy car into the house. You take Mandu off his leash and he starts running inside, then helps Aster to take his sandals off after.
"Cookies," Aster suddenly asks.
"You can have cookies later after dinner, okay?" You softly tell him, remembering that one of the house rules is no snacks before dinner.
Aster seems hungry so you go to the kitchen to start making dinner for him. Since there's no one else in the house, Aster keeps following you everywhere and he's playing with his toy on the kitchen floor.
"One, two, three, five," he incorrectly counts.
You lowly chuckle while keep flattening the pizza dough on the kitchen counter, "One, two, three, four, five," you correct him.
"Four, five, six," he counts again, standing up and wriggling his body as he continues, "Seven, eight, ten."
"Seven, eight, nine, ten," you correct him again.
Aster starts jumping and dancing, throwing his plushie in the air, and having a party on his own. You drop whatever you're doing to watch him being a little happy bean he is.
"Old Macdonald had a farm E I E I O," he sings, picking up his plushie and dancing with it.
"And on that farm, he had a horse, E-I-E-I-O," you both sing in unison and Aster continues the rest of the song in cute gibberish.
You put your focus back on plating dinner, putting the fleshly baked pizza onto the plate and some broccoli on the side. For the dessert, you crack open a can of rice pudding and put it in a separate bowl or Aster will mix the food.
"Come on! Time for dinner!" You help Aster get onto his chair.
Before you can eat dinner as well, you refill Mandu's bowl with food and water and the three of you have dinner together with the sky gradually turns dark outside.
Amid dinner, your phone rings, and as expected, it's a video call from Felix. You scoot closer to him and put the phone against the box of tissue to get Aster in the frame, then hit the accept call button.
A second later, Felix's face appears on the screen, "Hello, my beautiful boy!" He greets his son with a wide smile.
Aster is busy chewing his food but he recognizes his dad's deep voice and looks up from his plate of food. A smile blooms on his chubby face, he glances at you and says, "Dada!"
"That's right. That's dada!" You say, encouraging him to talk.
"Did you miss, Dada?" Felix asks with a sad smile.
Aster only giggles with his mouth slobbering wet with drool and food, but after a while, he stifles a nod.
"Are you having dinner, sweet boy?" He sweetly asks.
"Yes," he hastily answers, lifting one side of the plate to show what he's having to his dad and almost sending the food sliding down onto the table.
With almost a year of experience in babysitting, your reflex is well-trained for such situations. You hurriedly put it down before he spills everything.
"What are you having, Aster?" Felix asks again.
You whisper it to him so he can say it to his dad himself, "Homemade pizza."
"Home and pizza," he incorrectly repeats your words.
Felix chuckles at that and calls for, you guess, his husband, Hyunjin to come so he can talk to his other dad. It takes him a while to finally get him on the phone.
"Mmm... yum, yum, yum," Hyunjin says with his baby voice like he usually does whenever he talks to his little one.
"Daddy!" Aster shrieks in excitement. For a long time, Aster has been closer to Felix than Hyunjin but lately, the dynamic has changed, Aster has been clingy to Hyunjin more.
"Hi, baby. Did you eat well?" He asks as Felix puts his arm around him so they're staying close to each other.
Instead of answering, Aster takes a big bite of his pizza and munches on it with exaggeration, making his cheeks round, full of food
"Ooh... Aster is eating so well. Good boy!" Hyunjin praises with a smile and applause.
The video call continues with his parents watching him eat his dinner and ends with a bittersweet bye as Felix just wants to keep it going.
"For now, be good with bubba, okay?"
Aster slumps on his seat and tugs his finger between his bunny teeth, nodding to whatever his parents are saying.
"Don't worry. We're not going to set the house on fire... not yet" you interject with a joke and give Aster's hair a quick ruffle.
"We'll be back soon, baby Aster," Hyunjin tells his son but it seems like he's indirectly saying it to his husband as well.
"Please come back safely!" You say with a smile, lifting Aster's hands and waving them at his parents.
"Bye-bye, sweet baby," Felix says, making small paws with his hand at him, "Dada loves you."
"Love you," Aster says back.
"Aww..." Felix coos, melting at hearing his son saying the affectionate words back to him.
"Daddy loves you too," Hyunjin adds.
"Love you," Aster also says back to his dad rather aggressively.
The video call ends with yet another bittersweet goodbye from Felix and that tells how much they treasure each other. Aster is growing up in a loving, kind family and he'll grow to be the person who spreads that love and kindness to other people.
Before Aster gets drowsy, you hurriedly clean up after dinner and take him upstairs to wash up, putting him in his pajamas.
The doorbell rings and since you're upstairs in Aster's room, you think you misheard it at first so you wait if the doorbell is going to ring again.
Aster glances at you when the doorbell finally rings again, you decide to carry Aster in your arm to get downstairs faster. You can't be too careful these days so you peek through the window to see who is it.
It's someone you haven't seen before, a guy with foxy eyes and a dimpled smile, well, his dimples appear when he smiles and he's smiling at you right now. You hesitantly open the door, keeping it slightly ajar, and pop your head out.
"Yes, can I help you?" You talk while running out of breath.
It seems you get him out of a trance from the way he's standing up straight as he starts talking.
"Hi, I'm Jeongin, I'm new..." he introduces himself, and suddenly his words trail off.
"New...?" You ask in confusion.
"I'm new in the neighborhood," he finally finishes his sentence with a sheepish smile, "I've just moved into the house across the street."
That explains the moving truck earlier and you can see from the door that he's still having some of his stuff outside.
"Ah, yes, welcome to the neighborhood," you say with a polite smile.
He notices Aster as he nuzzles his head into your neck and sucking on his thumb. He waves his fingers at Aster along with his dimpled smile, "Hi, hello!" He softly says.
Aster nuzzles his head further into your neck, he always gets shy when meeting new people and according to Felix, he gets it from Hyunjin.
"What's his name?"
"Aster," you reply.
"You have a really cute son," he compliments.
If only you get a dollar for every person who thinks that Aster is your child, you would be getting a new car by now. You smile at him while rubbing Aster's back.
"Oh, no, I'm just the babysitter," you inform.
"In fact, I don't live here. The real owners are out of town so that means, I'm also house-sitting for them," you stop talking before you start rambling.
"Oh..." he says with a nod and a smile that is bigger than the previous one.
A moment passes in awkward silence and Aster is getting heavier for you to carry him in your arms, but you can't just tell your new neighbor to scram.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" You courteously ask.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I was supposed to..." he scratches his head as he's just remembered something. He hands you the small paper bag he's been holding in one hand.
You take it from his hand and immediately mutter your gratitude to him, "Thank you!"
"See you around, I guess?" He says, shoving his hands deep into his jeans pockets.
"See you," you say back, quietly struggling to keep Aster holding Aster in one arm.
The second the door is closed, you let out a big sigh and put the paper bag on the nearest table, hurriedly taking Aster back upstairs to send him to sleep.
You sit on the small sofa in his room and sit him on your lap, gently patting his back as he rests his head on your chest with his eyes drooping. You think he's sleeping but all of a sudden, he sleepily mutters, "Night, bubba."
"Night night, sweet Aster," you say again with a soft kiss on his head.
"Night Dada."
"Night Daddy."
"Night Nana," he mutters for the last one, mentioning his grandma since Felix's mom sometimes comes to help babysit him.
"What about Poppo?" You remind him of his favorite plushie he's hugging close to his chest.
"Night Poppo," he sleepily mumbles along with a kiss on it.
Aster is fast asleep not long after that, you put him in his crib and that doesn't mean your day ends there. You quietly tidy up his room and check on Aster for the last time.
Something about watching him sleep makes you feel at peace, you tenderly rub his round cheek and brush his hair that's getting too long away from his face.
"Night night, sweet Aster," you whisper before leaving his room.
-
The next day, the fun starts all over again.
With yogurt smeared all over his mouth from his lunch, Aster insists on coming with you after breakfast to pick up the blackberries from the bushes in the backyard. You only noticed them earlier when you were hosing the plants.
"Blueberries!" Aster exclaims.
"They're blackberries," you say, holding a bowl to put the picked fruits, "Want to pick them up?"
He seems hesitant but takes a step forward, he yanks at the leaves and is unsure of how to do it. He refrains and takes a step back, "Bubba do it."
You squat down and show him how to do it, taking the blackberry off the bush, then put it into the bowl, "Like that, bub."
The next minute, Aster is excitedly looking through the blackberry bushes to pick the fruits while you're holding the bowl for him.
"Wow! You picked a lot, bub!" You gasp in surprise seeing the blackberries he has gathered in the bowl.
Aster counts them in his cute mumbling voice, "four, five, six, seven, eight..." he joyfully claps as he successfully counts them all.
The two of you wash them together under the running water and you use the chance to also clean Aster's mouth, wiping it clean with a napkin after.
"Want to try it, bub?" You ask as you kneel on the floor, showing him the blackberries you picked and washed in the bowl.
He looks at it for a second then takes one, he doesn't hesitate to shove it into his mouth. He seems to like it as he keeps taking one after another.
"Is it good?"
He scrunches his nose, you guess the last one he takes into his mouth is sour but despite all that, he keeps chewing and says, "Nice."
The sound of Mandu's footsteps startling both of you as he sprints toward the door and starts barking. Curious as to why he gets so excited all of a sudden, you take Aster with you to check if someone is at the door.
Turns out, Mandu sees the family's car pulling up in front of the house and that's why his tail is wagging behind him, knowing that his daddies are coming home soon.
They don't even bother getting their stuff out of the car, they're going into the house and impatient to see their son. Mandu jumps the second Hyunjin pushes the door open, barking and licking at his face as he scoops him into his arms.
"Hi, baby..." Felix coos at his son as he's clinging to your side.
Unlike Mandu, Aster is looking a little confused at his parent's return.
Seeing his son's reaction, Felix kneels on the floor and looks at him, "It's dada," he tells him.
Aster only clings harder at you and then he starts running inside, you can see Felix's smile fade a little after getting an unexpected reaction from his son.
You follow Aster inside to take him back to his dad and find him walking towards Felix with the bowl of blackberries, he's handing it to him as if to show him that he did it.
"You picked blackberries with bubba?" Felix asks him with a smile.
"Yes," he eagerly nods.
Felix tries again, opening his arms at him, and with a quivering voice, he asks, "Can dada have a hug?"
Aster nods again and dashes toward him hard, almost sending Felix to fall to the back. Felix looks like he's about to burst into tears when he finally gets to hold his son.
From your side, Hyunjin gently grabs your elbow and you both exchange a quick hug.
"Welcome home," you mutter to him, "How was the flight?"
"The best sleep I've ever had," Hyunjin playfully answers with his hand lingers on your arm.
"Glad you're finally home!"
"Why? Was he a handful?"
"Other than he's always out partying and came home late, he's alright," You jokingly answer.
After kissing Aster non-stop, Felix turns to the side to see his husband there and makes Aster come to Hyunjin next, "Don't you miss daddy, hun?"
Hyunjin bends down to take him from Felix's arms, he nuzzles his head in his stomach to place tickling kisses there and makes Aster giggle and drool at the same time.
"We were only away for four days but his hair is already this long," Felix says as he stands next to you.
You only notice it now that Aster and Hyunjin have a similar hair length, they also share the same dark, silky hair.
"Aster looks like daddy now," you point out.
"That's right!" Felix exclaims in agreement as he puts his arm around your shoulder.
The day continues with Hyunjin and Felix taking their luggage out of the car, unpacking one of them to take a few things. Aster is sure a spoiled baby with the amount of things they bought for him from their short vacation.
"This is for bubba," Felix says, handing you a bag of things.
You grin as you take it from him, "You bought me something too?"
"Of course!" Felix hastily replies.
"Thank you!" You say with a gratuitous smile and decide to check the content later at home.
Even though his parents are already home, you're staying to continue your job to babysit Aster and also to help around the house, you figure that either Hyunjin or Felix are still tired from their flight home.
Aster is having fun with Hyunjin though as they're playing together in the backyard with Mandu, sporting the same hairstyle by tying their hair in ponytails.
"He looks more like Hyunjin now," Felix says as he shows you the picture he took of them in matching hairstyles.
Aster used to look a lot more like Felix but now, he and Hyunjin indeed look so much alike. The hair, the lips, and the soft features he has give off that distinct charms.
"Oh, yeah, he looks like mini Hyunjin now," you agree with a smile.
Felix lets out a delightful sigh as he continues scrolling through Aster's pictures and shows you the ones he took when he was still a baby.
"He was so small when he came to the world," Felix says along with a picture of newborn Aster curling into a little ball.
"And look at him now, he's so big and full of energy," he adds while looking at his son playing with the garden hose with fondness in his eyes.
Then he turns to look at you and smiles, "He's almost two now."
"Yeah, time flies so fast," you say, suddenly reminiscing the time when you started babysitting Aster and he was only 13 months back then.
"Which reminds me that we should start planning his birthday soon," he says, shifting the conversation before it gets too sentimental.
You immediately stand up straight and put your hand across your chest, "I'm at your service," you jokingly say.
Felix lowly chuckles and looks at his phone again, "We can do that tomorrow but now, we have to order dinner."
-
The short vacation was everything he didn't know he needed but Felix couldn't be happier that he is now at home.
He's looking at his little family, his husband Hyunjin and his son who heartily eat their dinner next to each other and then there's you, the additional member whom he loves as much as his own family.
Felix feels grateful that he surrounded himself with people who cherished him and vice versa, and that allows him to find happiness in a simple thing like this.
"Anyway, guys, I have something to tell you," you suddenly announce in the middle of dinner.
From the way you keep clearing your throat and your hand tightly wrapped around your chopsticks, it seems like it's something serious and Felix can only hope it is good news.
"Yes, bub?" Felix asks, stopping whatever he's doing to hear what you have to say.
"I just got the announcement yesterday but I passed. I'm graduating this summer," you reveal the news with a bright smile on your face.
Felix lets out a sigh of relief knowing that it's good news and not something he's afraid to hear.
"Oh, my God! That's amazing!" He exclaims, not taking another second to think but coming at you to hug you. He knows you need it, especially after knowing how much you've been worrying about it for these past couple of weeks.
"Thank you!" You mutter as you return the hug.
"This occasion calls for champagne," Hyunjin says, getting up from his seat to get it along with the glasses.
"Aster, bubba is graduating!" Felix says to his little one while squeezing his hand in excitement.
Aster is certainly too young to understand, he remains busy with his dinner as he bites into his spaghetti meatball with the tomato sauce slobbering all over his mouth.
Hyunjin meticulously pours wine into the three glasses without spilling a drop and to make his son feel included, he pours apple juice into a plastic cup.
"Congratulations on graduating!" Hyunjin says as he initiates the toast.
The three of you clinging your glasses together in the middle of the table to finally have that delightful sip of bubbly wine.
"Cheers, bubba!" You say as you bring your glass close to Aster and he immediately picks up his glass of apple juice and clinking it with yours.
And the day couldn't have ended more beautifully.
-
The decision to have Aster wasn't an easy one, Hyunjin and Felix talked about it more than a dozen times until they came to the final decision that they did want a child.
The decision is only a part of the process, getting Aster into the world is a whole other thing. There were a lot of doctor appointments and legal consultations, and of course, there was the search for a suitable surrogate mother, it was one of the most draining parts of it all.
Looking back at it, Felix realizes that he's done a lot to bring Aster into the world and it reminds him to cherish every moment he has with him.
"Again, again!" Aster says to Hyunjin who's been flying him like an airplane.
Hyunjin takes a moment to catch his breath before lifting him again in his arms as Aster puts his arms to the front.
"Poppo too," he mutters after one lap.
"You want to take Poppo flying?"
"Uh-huh."
"Babe, can you give me Poppo!" Hyunjin asks for Felix's help as the plushie is perching on the armrest of the sofa.
Felix hurriedly snaps him out of his daze and hands Hyunjin the blue jellyfish-shaped plushie and then watches his husband swing his son around the bedroom.
Aster is having so much fun that he's constantly laughing and drooling at the same time, it makes Felix happy that his cheeks are hurt from smiling non-stop.
Seeing that Hyunjin is getting tired from carrying him around, Felix thinks it's time for his bedtime.
"Aster, come on, get in your jammies!"
Hyunjin carries him to the sofa and sighs as he takes a seat next to him, holding Aster as Felix puts him into his sleepsuit. Then Felix sits him down on his lap as Hyunjin starts reading him a bedtime story.
"Goodnight dada," he mumbles while rubbing his eyes.
"Goodnight, sweet baby," Felix replies with a fond kiss on the top of his head.
"Goodnight Daddy."
Hyunjin places a long kiss on his forehead in response, "Night, angel."
"Goodnight bubba. Goodnight Nana," Aster continues with his night greetings then brings his plushie close to his mouth to kiss it, "Goodnight Poppo."
It takes quite some time until Aster drifts into sleep but Felix continuously rubs his back and showers him with gentle kisses.
"Can you believe he's almost two now?" Felix lowers his voice to talk to Hyunjin.
"Our baby has grown a lot," Hyunjin says, brushing Aster's hair away from his face.
The realization makes him sad and it's coming from the fact that they're growing older with him too. Felix rests his head on Hyunjin's shoulder, trying to imprint this tender moment in the back of his head along with this bittersweet feeling for him to treasure in the future.
"Better put him in his crib," Hyunjin says to him with a gentle ruffle on the back of Felix's head, "Cause you have another baby to tuck to bed."
Felix raises his eyebrow in question and it registers to him when Hyunjin points at himself, confirming that the other baby is him.
"I'm sure you're tired as well," Hyunjin adds.
"Yeah, okay," he answers with a smile.
Hyunjin kisses Felix's forehead and places another kiss on Aster's head before leaving the bedroom.
Realizing that he can't stop time and Aster will only get bigger, Felix remains there for another moment just holding his son in his arms to his heart's content to finally lay him in his crib.
Felix dims the light on the way out and goes to his room, finding Hyunjin already lying on the bed. Instead of getting on his side of the bed, Felix fits himself in Hyunjin's side, forcing him to scoot away. He then puts Hyunjin's arm around him.
"You should be the one tucking me in," Hyunjin says with a sweet kiss on Hyunjin's neck.
Felix lowly chuckles and gets comfortable in Hyunjin's hold, "But I'm your baby too," he says.
"That's fair," Hyunjin responds, drawing him closer and holding him tight.
He then turns his head his way and presses another kiss on his lips, "Goodnight, baby."
Felix gives him a long peck in return, "Goodnight, love."
-
At 5 am, Hyunjin's alarm rings and he hurriedly turns it off before it wakes the person sleeping next to him. Well, Felix usually wakes up around the same time but he looks like he needs some more sleep so he lets him.
However, Felix stirs in his sleep sensing the bed shift as Hyunjin gets up and forces his eyes open.
"What time is it?" He asks with his gruff morning voice.
Hyunjin crawls over to his side of the bed and places a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"I'll cook breakfast. Just go back to sleep," he murmurs.
"Thank you, honey," Felix mumbles with a smile and then closes his eyes to sleep some more.
On the top of the stairs, Mandu's ears perk up hearing Hyunjin's footsteps and he jumps out of his bed the second he comes out of his bedroom.
"Morning, Mandu," Hyunjin greets his beloved pet, squatting down to pick him up and carrying it with him as he goes downstairs.
The coffee machine is set, Mandu's bowl is filled with food and a water tumbler is ready for him to take to the basement. Hyunjin is on a diet plan that requires him to do twenty minutes of workout in the morning and that's what he's going to do there.
Once he finishes his workout, he continues his morning routine by washing up, and preparing breakfast in the kitchen and when the clock shows it's almost seven, he comes upstairs to wake his little one with Mandu trailing behind him as usual.
Aster is already awake when he pushes the door open, rubbing his eyes off his sleep and kicking his feet up in the air inside his crib.
"Hi, angel baby, you're awake already?" He walks up to his son and kisses the top of his head, his hand tangled in his son's soft locks, sniffing at it before giving him another kiss.
"Want to get down?"
Aster doesn't say anything but lifts his arms at Hyunjin, wanting to get carried in his arms. He puts him down and sits on the carpeted floor with him, still sleepy Aster clings to his dad for cuddles. Mandu suddenly jumps onto Hyunjin's lap and joins in on the cuddles.
"What do you want for breakfast, honey?" Hyunjin softly asks as Aster plays with Mandu's white coat of fur.
"Milk," he replies a while later.
"Milk?"
"Milk and toast," he answers again while resting his head on Mandu's back.
"And yogurt and blueberries?"
"Yogurt and blueberries," Aster repeats.
Hyunjin is smiling at how affectionate Aster is toward Mandu, petting his head and holding him close like he would do to his favorite plushie.
Unbeknownst to him, Felix is watching the whole heartwarming scene from the doorway and his heart is about to burst as this is the first thing he sees in the morning.
Felix loves his little family so much.
-
This should be his nap time but Aster is all hyper and you've been chasing him around the house that you can feel sweat forming on your back.
Needing a break, you kneel on the carpeted floor and catch your breath. Aster stops on his track as well, resting half of his body on the sofa and wickedly grinning at you.
"Want to drink your milk?" you persuade by showing him the bottle of milk you're holding in your hand.
"No," he refuses, tugging his fingers between his bunny teeth.
You quietly make your way closer to him, hoping to catch him before he gets to run and makes you chase him around again. Sadly, he's too clever for a toddler and runs before you get to grab him and he's heading to the study room where Hyunjin is working.
Worse is the door is not completely shut and Aster can easily push his way inside, squealing as he runs away from you.
Hyunjin is there, sitting behind the desk and looking like he's in a virtual meeting. You stand by the doorway and gesture for Aster to come back.
"Daddy is working," you whisper at him.
Instead of obeying you, Aster climbs onto Hyunjin's lap and he takes him without looking away from the computer screen.
"Aster, no..." you mutter while shaking your head at him.
But he clings to his dad and hides in his chest, making Hyunjin pause on the meeting to handle his son.
"Why aren't you napping, mmh?" He asks.
As if he tries to win him, Aster presses a kiss on Hyunjin's cheek and almost bites him again, but Hyunjin is quick to dodge away.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let him in," you say as you step inside his study room, "I'll take him."
"That's okay," Hyunjin says as he holds Aster close, "Just give me the bottle."
"Okay," you come up to him to give him the bottle and leave the room, making sure you fully close the door.
In the kitchen, Felix is still busy baking his famous brownies, and the sweet smell of it wafting throughout the room as he takes it out of the oven.
"Oh, my Gosh! That smells so good!" You gasp as you walk up to him.
Felix smiles as he puts the brownies on the kitchen counter and lets it cool down. He takes his oven mitts off and pours himself a glass of water.
"Monster Aster is finally off to nap?" He asks, then takes a big gulp of water.
"He ran to the study room and insisted on napping with his daddy," you answer, snacking on the bowl of chocolate chips in front of you.
"Of course!" Felix sighs, he takes another gulp of water and gasp.
"Aster is in his Hyunjin's phase," you joke, tossing a piece of chocolate chip into your mouth.
"There was never a Felix's phase in the first place," Felix grumbles with a pout.
"Well, you can adopt me and I promise I'll always be on your team," you joke while shoving another piece of chocolate chip into your mouth.
"I'll consult it with my lawyer first," he shortly responds with a smile.
After helping Felix slice the brownies into small squares, you go back to the study room to check on Aster and whether Hyunjin has successfully made him nap. You cautiously turn the knob and push the door open, popping your head inside to check.
To your surprise, Hyunjin's done it. Aster is peacefully sleeping in his arms and Hyunjin endearingly brushes his head before placing kisses on the top of his head. He's doing that while also working on something on his computer, he has his headphones on so he doesn't notice you until you come and stand close enough to his desk.
"Let me take him," you mouth your words at him.
Hyunjin takes his headphones off and fixes Aster's head to snuggle it on the crook of his neck, "I'll do it. I'm done working anyway," he says.
As Hyunjin walks across the living room carrying Aster in his arms, you and Felix stop talking to not accidentally wake Aster as Hyunjin is about to put him down for his nap. He comes back downstairs carrying his other child, the furry one who is always on his team.
"I smell brownies," He says, putting Mandu down and jogging his way to the kitchen to check, following the sweet smell of Felix's brownies.
Felix slides the plate of brownies in his direction and continues to write down things he needs to buy while discussing it with you but you're distracted by his beautiful cursive handwriting.
"Oh, this is nice!" Hyunjin gasps in joy and his eyes sparkle at the sight of it. He even rubs his hands together before taking a piece of brownies from the plate.
"Honey, can you take care of Aster for a bit?" Felix asks as he puts his pen down.
"Mmh-hmm," he answers without a beat and takes another piece of brownie.
"The fridge is empty so we're going to do some grocery shopping," Felix explains but Hyunjin is too busy stuffing his mouth with brownies to pay attention.
Looking at Hyunjin certainly reminds you of how much he looks like Aster when he's eating with his cheeks inflated and lips slightly jutting out.
When he realizes that you and Felix are watching him heartily eating brownies, he stops chewing and puts on a foolish grin.
"This is so good, babe!" He says with an exaggerated tone and hastily kisses Felix on the lips.
Felix is so taken aback that he freezes for a second and blankly blinks his eyes at him, and you, as usual, being the third wheel in this marriage.
"This is why I married you," Hyunjin adds with a sweet smile that makes his eyes form two crescents.
"Because of my brownies?" Felix asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Because you're the best husband ever!" Hyunjin remarks with a sweet smile plastered on his face, "But also yeah, because of the brownies."
Felix can't help but smile as his fingers fiddled with the pen, flustered by his husband.
"Stop being so cute!" He says to Hyunjin.
You prop a hand under your chin and also look at Hyunjin, "Yeah, stop being so cute!" You say, just to remind them that you're there.
Hyunjin ignores both of you, continues chewing his food while making funny noises, and even does some dancing while holding a piece of brownie in his hand.
Felix takes his wallet and notes with him, "We're going, babe," he says.
"Wait, you forget something," Hyunjin says, stopping Felix from walking away.
Felix gropes every pocket on his jeans, checking if he is forgetting something, "I don't think—"
Hyunjin grabs him by his elbow and pulls him close, "You're forgetting this," he says, pressing a kiss on his lips.
It's better to exclude yourself from this scene, so you turn on your feet and grab the car keys from the bowl.
"I'll get the car ready," you say.
"Bubba, you're also forgetting something," Hyunjin jokingly says.
"No, thank you," you refuse right away without even looking.
-
While Felix is busy picking fruits for both consumption and baking ingredients with utmost focus, you wander through the herb and spices aisle to take some things off the shopping list.
You're scanning through the list then at the shelves next, taking the ones you need and putting them into the trolley. You stand next to the shelf to check if you missed anything.
"Oregano!" You mutter, turning to the other shelf and scanning it to find between various types of herbs there is.
"Oregano, oregano, oregano," you continuously mutter as your hand trails every jar while carefully reading the labels to find it.
"Here!" A voice says along with a hand that offers you the herb you're looking for.
"Thank you!" You mutter as you take it and look up to see a familiar face, "Oh?"
He smiles when you see him and clutching his shopping basket in front of him, "I hope you still remember me," he says.
"Yeah, sure, you're the uh..." Oh shit, you forgot his name but you know he's the guy who came to the house a couple of days ago, "You're the new neighbor."
"Nice to see you again," He replies with his dimpled smile that only confirms it's him.
"Nice to see you," you say back with a polite smile.
"Are you here by yourself?" He asks.
"No, I'm here with someone but he's... somewhere," you pause to look around to see if Felix has returned and look back at him, "How about you?"
"It's just me," he replies.
Your eyes wander to his shopping basket and take a quick scan at what he bought.
"Making curry for dinner?" You wildly guess based on your observation.
He shyly chuckles and shifts his basket to the other arm, "That's the idea," he says.
"Well, you're going the right way," you playfully respond with a soft chuckle.
His hand flies to his ear and rubs on it, "oh, that's a relief!"
"Oop! There you are!" Felix says with his deep voice startling you.
Why does it feel like you just got caught doing something you shouldn't do when you're just talking to a guy? You turn on your feet and take a step back so he can put the bags of fruits into the trolley.
A moment after that, Felix notices that you've been talking with someone. He looks at him and at you, then looks back at him.
"Hello, hi," Felix says to him, then turns at you, "Who is it, bubba?"
"Oh! This is your new neighbor," you introduce him, forgetting to mention anything about it until now.
"My new neighbor, huh?" Felix says with a smile and quietly gives you the side eyes.
"This is the actual owner of the house and Aster's dad, Felix," you introduce Felix to him.
"Nice to meet you," Felix says, offering his hand to him.
"I'm Jeongin. Nice to meet you," he introduces himself back and takes Felix's hand to shake it.
Oh, yeah, Jeongin! That's his name, oh, why are you so bad at memorizing names? You try not to show how you've been avoiding calling him by his name until this second.
"Nice to meet my new neighbor," Felix says with another side-eye shot at you.
Another moment passes with Felix glancing at you and Jeongin in turns, you need to find something to say to disperse the awkwardness that slowly builds, better if you remove yourself from the scene.
"I guess we'd bett—"
"You know, we're celebrating Aster's birthday next Saturday," Felix suddenly shares, "We would love for you to come!"
The invitation must have come as a surprise to Jeongin but you're not one with the rights to it, Felix is free to invite anyone.
"I'd love to," Jeongin answers with a polite smile.
"Great!" Felix exclaims in joy, "Just a fair warning though, it's a kid's birthday party so there'll be no alcohol."
"That's more than fine," he responds.
Jeongin scratches his ear again and you start to think he does it whenever he gets nervous or flustered. You don't want to make him uncomfortable for long and you have a lot of grocery shopping left to do.
"We'd better let you get back to your shopping," you say, secretly taking Felix's arm to take him out of his way.
"I guess we'll see each other around a lot," Felix says with a foolish grin on his face.
"Eh?" Jeongin responds in confusion.
"Cause we're neighbors," Felix says.
"Ah... yes."
You drag Felix along with the trolley to not make it even more awkward, "See you!"
"See you!" Jeongin says as he waves his hand at you.
The shopping isn't the worst part of it but putting all the bags into the trunk is. Felix bought a lot it's enough to feed a whole village but you're aware that half of it is for his baking needs.
"How come you never mentioned anything about the new neighbor?" Felix asks.
"I simply forgot to tell you," You answer while keeping your eyes on the road.
"How come you forgot a cute face like that?"
"Mr. Lee, you're married," You remind him while shaking your head in disbelief.
"What? Just because I'm married I suddenly can't see cute guys anymore?"
"You know that's not what I mean."
"He's tall, he has nice shoulders and dimples..."
"No comment!" You refuse to respond to his words.
"Oh, come on! Just admit it! He's cute," Felix says, aggressively hitting your shoulder and forcing you to respond.
"Okay, okay, yeah, he's cute," you finally admit with a low sigh.
"I can tell that he fancies you too," Felix adds as he leans back on his seat.
"Mr. Lee, please stick to what you do best," you briefly glance at him as you continue talking, "Baking, not matchmaking."
Felix raises both hands in defeat and says, "I'm just saying."
And of course, getting everything off the trunk means more handwork. You and Felix carry as much as you can in both arms and push your way into the house.
"We're home!" Felix announces the second he steps into the house.
There's music playing in the living room so you guess Aster has woken up from his nap and there he is, jumping on his little feet and singing to his favorite cartoon song.
"Babe, come here!" Hyunjin orders, taking the grocery bags from his arms and putting them on top of the dining table.
"What? Why?" He asks in confusion but relents as Hyunjin drags him to the living room while you keep walking toward the kitchen.
Hyunjin sits Felix down on the sofa and then he grabs the remote to replay the song playing on the TV. Together, he and Aster start dancing and singing to the song, creating a special show for his dear dad and husband, Felix.
Felix is so wrong to think that he has no one on his team when, in fact, both Aster and Hyunjin will always be on his team.
-
Today will be Hyunjin's first day back to work after his vacation and Aster somehow senses that.
He's been spending the whole afternoon playing with his dad until Hyunjin has to go and get dressed for work, he's taking over the late-night news tonight and that's when Aster feels alarmed. You try to keep him distracted by taking him to the back porch to play with his new toys.
As Hyunjin comes to kiss him, Aster gets fussy, he runs after his dad to the front door. He even takes his shoes with him as he gets to his father.
"Go with daddy," he says, holding his shoes at him.
That only makes Hyunjin reluctant to go, he pulls Aster for a hug and holds him for a moment. He kisses his cheek and also the top of his head.
"Daddy has to go to work," he says to him with a gentle caress on his cheek.
Aster doesn't say anything but opens the strap on his shoes then hands it to Hyunjin, asking him to put them on for him.
"Oh, baby," Hyunjin sadly says and lifts him into his arms.
As heartbreaking as it is, Felix comes to take Aster so Hyunjin can go to work. He rubs Aster's back and then slowly, he takes him from Hyunjin's arms.
"Daddy will be back soon, okay, angel?" Hyunjin continuously consoles Aster with kisses and caresses.
Aster holds his hands out at Hyunjin, desperately wanting to get back into Hyunjin's arms but Felix firmly holds him down.
"You'll play together again when daddy gets back, mmh?" Felix calmly tells him as Aster is whining and fighting to get out of his arms.
Hyunjin checks the time on his wristwatch and looks at Felix, "I really have to go," he says.
"It's okay. He'll quiet down soon," Felix assures him not to worry about Aster.
Hyunjin puts on a sad smile and hugs both Aster and Felix, he then presses a kiss on Aster's head and mutters, "Daddy loves you."
He then turns at Felix for a quick peck on the lips, "I'm going, yeah?"
"Be careful, okay?" Felix says with a smile while bouncing Aster in his arms to stop him from crying.
With a heavy heart, Hyunjin picks up his briefcase and waves his bye at Aster before getting out of the door.
You feel helpless as you can't do anything to help calm down crying Aster, he tends to only cling to you when his dads aren't around and he only wants his dad when he's fussy like this.
Felix keeps bouncing him in his arms, rubbing his back and wiping the tears on his cheeks while muttering words in the softest tone.
"Dada is here."
"Dada will play with you, mmh?"
"How about a cookie, mmh? Do you want a cookie?"
Felix knows that Aster can't say no to his cookies and it indeed works to make him stop crying, he rubs his eyes with the back of his hands and then nods.
"With milk," He mumbles.
"Cookie with milk?" Felix asks as he tenderly wipes the tears from his eyes with this thumb.
"Yes, please," he mumbles while doing the sign language.
"Can you smile for dada first?"
Aster nods and then puts on a smile for his dad, he looks cute even though his face is puffy and red from crying. Felix lights up the second he sees a smile bloom on Aster's sweet little face.
"That's Dada's beautiful boy!" Felix exclaims with an affectionate kiss on his cheek.
You prepare the seat for Aster and help to get him in it as Felix is off to get the cookie jar from the cabinet and then the milk from the fridge.
"One for sweet Aster," He says, putting one cookie on your Aster's plate.
"Thank you, dada," Aster cutely mutters as he wastes no time to take a bite at it.
"You're very welcome, my darling," he replies with a smile and a gentle pat on the head.
He turns to you with the cookie jar in hand, "Do you want one too, bubba?"
"You know I can't say no to your cookie," you answer.
Felix places one on your plate and another one for himself, he then fills Aster's cup with milk, before pouring milk into two glasses which you guess is for you and him.
"Choccie sauce!" He chimes, asking for some chocolate sauce in his milk.
"You want some choccie sauce with your milk?" Felix asks, taking it from the top cabinet.
Aster nods while breaking a piece of cookie with his hand.
Felix squeezes the bottle and puts some chocolate sauce in his milk, he lets him stir it with the straw before taking a sip.
"Isn't that nice, Aster?
"Nice," he answers, emphasizing the word that sounds like a hiss.
"Do you want some choccie sauce in your milk too, bub?"
"No, thank you," you kindly refuse.
Felix joins in on the dining table, eating the cookies he made and never failed to make, ever since you tasted his cookies, all the other cookies taste just alright for you.
Once he sits down, Felix takes a rewarding bite after all that hard work on calming Aster and lets out a delightful sigh.
"The adoption paper seems very tempting for a moment," he jokingly says.
"You've done well, dada," you assure him, making him feel acknowledged for his effort.
Aster looks a lot better after having a cookie and it seems like he's already forgotten about Hyunjin leaving for work. He drinks his milk through a straw and lets out a cute gasp after.
"One more, please?" He politely asks.
"You can have one more but you can't have another one until after dinner, okay?" Felix makes a compromise before giving it to him right away.
"Okay, dada," he answers with a nod.
"Here goes another cookie for my sweet tooth," Felix says as he places another cookie on Aster's plate.
"Thank you," he mutters with a grin.
"You're very welcome, bub!" Felix says back, then notices that you're finished with your cookie, "Do you want to have another one too, bub?"
This is why you don't feel like working because oftentimes, you find Felix treating you like his child and you don't mind any of it.
"No, I'm good, thanks," you kindly refuse with a smile.
"You're staying for dinner, right?"
"I don't know if you remember but I told you that I need to leave early today," you meekly say, then check for the time on your phone.
Felix gasps in surprise when he finally remembers it, "Oh, yeah, you're going to visit a family member in the hospital," he says.
"Yep and I'm afraid I have to leave now," you say while replying to a text from your mum.
"You can go, bub. Don't let your mum wait for you," Felix assures you as he puts the cookie jar back into the cabinet.
"Are you sure it's fine?" You hesitantly ask as you gather your things from around the room.
Felix comes up to Aster and holds the back of his seat, "of course, we'll be okay," he assures you with a smile.
You don't know why you think he won't be capable of taking care of his own son but you guess you feel bad for couldn't help him especially with Hyunjin working late tonight.
"Buh-bye, Aster," you say bye to Aster with a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Bye-bye, bubba," he replies as he keeps munching on his cookie.
"Drive safely, bub!" Felix comes up to you for a quick hug before letting you go.
The phone chimes as you get out of the house, your mum is rushing you even though you still have enough time to make it to your house to pick her up and drive to the hospital before the visiting hours end. You compose a quick reply to tell her you're already on the way to calm her down.
As you're about to climb into your car, you see Jeongin waving his hand at you from his house which is right across Felix's. You raise your hand to let him know that you see him and put on a smile even though you're not sure he can see it, and you think he's just wanting to say hi to you, he jogs his way to you.
"Hey," Jeongin greets you with his engaging foxy eyes and dimpled smile.
"Hey," you say back, returning the smile to him.
"You're getting off early," he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Yeah. My mum and I have to go to this family thing," you vaguely explain.
"I'm not going to keep you long then," Jeongin says, slowly taking a step back.
"No, I mean, I have some time if you want to say something," you blurt out, feeling bad for indirectly turning him down.
"I need ideas for Aster's birthday present," he pauses to shift his weight to one side, "I think no one knows what he likes more than you."
It seems like it'll be taking a lot more time to decide
"Oh? Well, Aster likes—"
"I was hoping that we could go gift hunting together," He says while shyly scratching his ear.
"You want me to help you look for Aster's birthday present?"
"Yes, but not now, of course. You have somewhere to go right now," he hastily answers with an awkward smile.
"Well, I can't right now but I'm not babysitting tomorrow," you have no plans tomorrow, and helping someone out is never a bad idea.
"Tomorrow?" He stammers.
"If that's too soon we can do—"
"No, that's better," he hastily responds.
"The sooner, the better," he says with another shy smile and looks away when your eyes meet in a gaze.
"Okay, then should I give you my number or...?" you ask, hesitating whether you should take out your phone or wait for him to give you his phone.
Jeongin fumbles to get his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, unlocking it first before handing it to you. You type your numbers in and give the phone back to him, at the same time, your phone pings with a new text which you guess is from your mum.
"I'm sorry but I really have to go right now," you tell him with an apologetic smile.
"Yes, sorry for keeping you for so long," he apologizes back and hurriedly steps away from your car.
"See you tomorrow," you say before getting into the car.
"See you!" Jeongin says with his dimpled smile.
-
The next day, you help Jeongin look for Aster's birthday present as promised. You texted him beforehand, telling him to meet you at the toy store and he came just a few minutes late from the appointed time.
"Have you been waiting long?"
"No, not at all," you shortly reply.
The search for the birthday present doesn't take much time, Jeongin has it wrapped in store and by the time you get out of the store, the daylight still lingers on the sky.
"Do you want to get an early dinner?" Jeongin suddenly asks as he holds the door open for you and lets you out first.
It's the first time you meet a guy who's this forward and instead of discomfort, you find this refreshing, and it makes it easier for you to get along with him.
"I have nowhere to go this time so why not?" You answer with a smile.
Since Jeongin is new in town, you take the duty to recommend any good restaurants to him and settle on one that is located only two blocks away from the toy store.
The two of you taking your time to enjoy dinner, chatting in between bites of food, and getting to know him better. Jeongin newly moved into this town for a job, he lives with his dog and he is one year younger than you which is no surprise.
"How long have you been babysitting Aster?" He curiously asks.
"Almost a year now," you shortly answer.
"Did you happen to find this job or you always wanted to be a babysitter?" He playfully asks, then takes a sip of his soda.
"It's obviously the latter," you joke back.
"I mean, I don't see what's wrong with that," he says while lowly laughing.
"The job initially came for my mum but her social calendar is packed for the rest of the year so I took it," you wipe your fingers onto the napkin, "I needed the money for college and a new car."
"So you're still in uni?"
"I'm actually graduating this summer," you inform with a proud smile.
"Oh, congratulations!" He beams a bright smile at you, genuinely ecstatic with the news.
"Thank you so much!"
"And so, what's the plan after graduation?" He asks, completely all ears about it as he stacks his hands together on the table.
"I haven't told this to anyone but I... I got this job offer," you openly share.
"Oh, I'm the first to know this?" Jeongin asks with an eyebrow raised.
"Yes," you shyly nod.
You can't believe that you easily share it with someone that is not your mom and you don't know why you feel comfortable talking about it with him, maybe because he's someone you've just met that makes it easier.
"Where does this job offer come from?" He asks in utmost curiosity.
"From an architecture firm in the city," you answer.
"But that's..." he seems to change his mind and decides not to finish the sentence.
"That's amazing!" He says, having a drastic change in his cadence.
All of a sudden, someone places their hand on your shoulder and you're ready to swat him away when you look over your shoulder and find Hyunjin there.
"Oh, my God! You scared me!" You gasp in surprise as your hand clutches your chest.
"I know my bubba so well to know that it's you just from the back of your head," Hyunjin says with his hand starts gently massaging your shoulder.
"What are you doing here?"
"Was having a quick dinner with a colleague and saw you on the way out," he answers, then his eyes shift to the guy sitting across from you, "May I know who is this, bubba?"
"Oh, yeah, this is Jeongin, he is your new neighbor actually," you introduce Jeongin to him.
"Nice to meet you!" Hyunjin courteously says as he holds his hand out to Jeongin.
"Nice to meet you!" Jeongin says back as he shakes his hand.
"This is Hyunjin, he is Felix's husband, also Aster's dad," you introduce him back to Jeongin.
You can see in Jeongin's eyes that he's putting two and two together and eventually comes to a conclusion.
"Oh?" He keeps his expression in check and quickly recovered, "Aren't you the uh... the anchorman?"
"Yes, I am," Hyunjin replies with a smile.
"Honored to make your acquaintance," Jeongin says with a blushed smile.
"Well, I'm sorry for interrupting your dinner, just wanted to say hi," Hyunjin says with his hand still firmly resting on your shoulder.
"No, that's okay, we're just chatting," You tell him because it seems like he's getting mixed signals from this.
Hyunjin checks the time on his wristwatch, "And I'm late for movie night."
"Oh, please send my love for Aster," you say.
"Will do," Hyunjin says, he then looks at Jeongin, "Have a great night!"
"You too!" You say, placing your hand on his before he takes it away.
The two of you decided to call it a night not long after Hyunjin left and since your car is in the shop, Jeongin insists on giving you a lift home, you cave in almost immediately because you don't feel like taking a bus home.
"Thank you for the help by the way," Jeongin says as he keeps one hand on the steering wheel and the other rests on the center panel.
"No worries," you say while holding your purse on your lap, "I'm sure Aster will love it."
"I trust you on that," he briefly glances at you to flash you a soft smile, "bubba? Isn't it?"
"What?"
"That's what they called you," He shortly answers.
"Yes, I think it's Aster who started it and everyone in the house decided to call me that ever since," you explain.
"I think that's cute," Jeongin comments, seamlessly making a right turn to where your house is and stopping the car.
You unbuckle your safety belt first and then sling the strap of your bag to your shoulder, you turn your head to the side to be greeted by his foxy eyes, shining even under the dim light of the car.
"Thank you for the ride home," you mutter your gratitude.
"I should be the one thanking you for the help," he says back, turning his body to look at you.
"Well, then, you're very welcome," you reply.
The silence only builds tension in the car and you know you should get out of the car soon if you don't want the tension to keep on rising. You pull the handle to unlock the car door and push it open.
"Goodnight, Jeongin!" You mutter a second before you get out of the car.
"Goodnight!" He says back with a scintillating smile.
-
The best part of Hyunjin's day will always be coming home to his family and seeing their faces light up when they see him.
Tonight, Hyunjin comes home to find Felix and Aster lying on the sofa bed, watching a movie with a big bowl of popcorn on Felix's lap. None of them notice him coming until he stands next to the TV.
"You said you were on the way like an hour ago," Felix says with slightly unamused face.
"I'm sorry," Hyunjin says with his hands raised in defeat.
"It's not our fault that you missed the first 20 minutes of Cars," Felix says.
Hyunjin puts his briefcase down and takes his suit jacket off before joining them on the sofa bed. He shares a kiss with his husband first then a kiss on the head for the little one.
"Oh, no, I missed a lot of it," he says with a pout as he pays attention to the movie playing on the TV.
Aster remains unbothered by Hyunjin's ferocious little kisses on his head and cheek, he's so focused on watching his favorite movie and shoving popcorn into his small mouth.
"Can daddy have some of that, bubba?" Hyunjin softly asks, opening his mouth for him.
Aster picks up a piece and feeds it to Hyunjin but before it gets into his mouth, he brings it toward him and eats it.
"Oh?" Hyunjin exclaims in confusion, "That's not very nice, Aster."
Felix laughs witnessing it and gently pats the little one's head, "Aster, that's not very nice."
As a way to get back to him, Hyunjin wraps his arms around Aster to keep him still as he places ticklish kisses on his stomach, sending him into a series of laughter.
"Daddy, I think we need some refreshments," Felix says.
Hyunjin takes a handful of popcorn and eats it from his hand, "You guys started the movie night without me and now I have to make drinks?"
Felix nonchalantly shrugs, "Well, you were late. This is your punishment."
"Why am I punished?" Hyunjin argues, squinting his eyes at Felix.
Felix shrugs again and puts his hand in Aster's hair, "What do you think about hot chocolate, Aster?"
"Hot choccie," he mumbles instead of answering Felix's question.
"With marshmallows, yeah?"
"Marshmallows," Aster repeats.
Hyunjin sighs and relents, "Okay then, how many marshmallows do you want?"
"Three," Aster eagerly answers.
"Use your fingers," Hyunjin orders.
"Three," he says again but he holds up his five fingers at him.
"Hot choccie with marshmallow, okay but daddy wants a kiss first," Hyunjin demands, pursing his lips at him and asking for a kiss.
Aster slowly leans in and gives him a slobbering peck on the lips. Hyunjin scrunches his nose as he tastes the grease from the popcorn butter from the kiss.
"That's a very salty kiss but okay..." Hyunjin gets up from the sofa bed and loosened the tie around his collar, "Two hot choccies with marshmallows coming right up!"
Aster doesn't make it to the end of the movie, he falls asleep on Hyunjin's lap and he holds him close as he continues watching the movie with the volume turned low.
"I met bubba at the restaurant today," Hyunjin shares with his hand tirelessly brushing Aster's hair.
Felix glances away from the TV to look at him, "Yeah?"
"Mmh," Hyunjin answers, "She was with the new neighbor."
"Ooh..." Felix coos and picks up his mug, "Did they seem like they're on a date?"
"I think so," Hyunjin doubtfully answers.
"I think they'll make a cute couple," Felix remarks after taking a sip of his hot chocolate.
Hyunjin hesitates to share another thing about the encounter but if there's someone he can share everything with, it's Felix.
"And I accidentally eavesdropping on their conversation," he admits.
Felix looks at him in disbelief, "You nosy!" He playfully remarks and touches the tip of his nose with his finger.
"I didn't do it on purpose!" Hyunjin defends himself.
"Okay, I believe you and now you don't have any other options but to tell me what you eavesdrop," Felix says, putting away his mug to put all of his focus on the conversation.
"She was telling him about her plan, saying that she got a job offer in the city," Hyunjin shares.
The glints in Felix's eyes dim almost immediately and his voice drops, "Oh?"
Knowing that he needs comfort, Hyunjin puts his arm around Felix's shoulder and pulls him close to his side, "We can get a new sitter if you want or I could—"
"You know we don't need a new sitter. I hired her because I like her," Felix says with a sour expression.
"I like her too," Hyunjin keeps his tone low and soft, his hand gently massaging Felix's shoulder.
Felix rests his head on Hyunjin's shoulder, "and we'll never find someone like her again," he sadly says.
"I know, baby," Hyunjin says, pressing a sweet kiss on his forehead and turning his head for a chaste kiss on his lips, "But you know we can't keep her here."
Something has just registered into Felix and he gets hit by a wave of sadness. As much as he wants to keep you here, he can't and shouldn't. You have a whole life ahead of you and he can't keep you from living your life to the fullest.
"It's going to be okay, love," Hyunjin murmurs with another kiss on his forehead.
-
It's a habit for Felix to roll into Hyunjin's side and cuddle him when he first comes to his wake. When he's ready to start the day, he plants a close kiss on Hyunjin's neck and gets up from the bed.
It's an exciting day and Felix can't wait to wake his little one. He quietly pushes the door to his bedroom and turns up the brightness of the lights in his room.
"Good morning, birthday boy!" Felix cheerily says as he peers down into his crib.
Aster is half awake from how he keeps tossing around in his crib, disoriented and disheveled.
"Still sleepy, mmh?" Felix softly asks with a tender caress on his cheek.
Aster rubs his eyes as he looks up at his dad with his big, innocent eyes and a simple thing like this is enough to melt his heart.
"You want to take a few more minutes of sleep, mmh?"
Aster may not say anything but he slowly gets up, standing up in his crib, and holds his arms out at Felix, asking him to lift him.
His best mate, Mandu, barks at the sight of Aster coming out of the crib and starts to circle Felix's feet with his tail wagging behind him.
"Calm down, there, Mandu!" Felix orders as he carries Aster in his arms then slowly sits down on the carpeted floor.
Mandu wastes no time but jumps onto Felix's lap, joining Aster and wanting to play with him.
"You're two years old now," Felix says, slightly in disbelief that his son is already two now and no longer a baby.
"Two," he mumbles.
"Are you excited for your birthday party, bub?" Felix asks as he brushes his matted hair.
Aster doesn't fully understand what birthday means and only hums his answer as he pets Mandu and nuzzles their heads together.
"There'll be balloons, presents. There'll be a birthday cake," Felix speaks while rocking him on his lap from side to side.
"Cake?"
"Yes, your birthday cake with sprinkles and candles on it."
"Choccie sauce?"
Felix raises his eyebrow at that, "You want choccie sauce on your birthday cake?"
"Choccie sauce in milk," he says, talking off-topic.
"Oh, you want choccie sauce in your milk for breakfast?" Felix guesses he's talking about what he wants for breakfast.
"Uh-huh," he nods.
"With pancakes?"
"Toast with jam," he says as he looks up at him, wide-eyed.
"Okay, but first, we have to brush your teeth and then wake Daddy up," he says.
Hyunjin is still peacefully sleeping, lying on his stomach with his face planted onto the pillow, only the side of his face is visible. Felix puts Aster down next to him and lets him wake his daddy up his way.
Aster crawls over to him, placing slobbering kisses on Hyunjin's cheek and then using his fingers to play with his plush lips.
"Daddy!" Aster calls with a slap on his shoulder.
Hyunjin peeks through the corner of his eyes and then pretends to sleep again, he puts his hand on his stomach and tickles him. As a way to get back to him, Aster climbs onto Hyunjin's back and bounces on it with his hands tugging at his hair. Getting no reaction from him, Aster licks his cheek.
"Aster, that's not very nice," Hyunjin groans with his voice muffled by the pillow.
In a swift move, Hyunjin turns over on the bed and sends Aster falling to the side, he is having a laughing fit as Hyunjin tickles his stomach.
Hyunjin eventually lets go to let him breathe and pulls him to his side, holding him close as he places an affectionate kiss on his cheek.
"Happy birthday, beautiful boy!" Hyunjin sweetly mutters. He gets cuteness aggression from how oblivious he is about his birthday and presses another kiss on his squishy cheek. Noticing that Felix just watching on the edge of the bed, Hyunjin outstretches his hand at him and says, "Come here, my baby."
Felix softly smiles and joins them on the bed with Aster lying in between him and Hyunjin. Hyunjin puts his hand over Aster to reach for Felix's hand and then laces them together.
"What should we do, baby?" Hyunjin asks him.
"What?" Felix asks in utter confusion.
"Our Aster is a big boy now," Hyunjin says with a faint, sad smile.
"And he'll keep on getting bigger," Felix says with a wistful sigh.
Birthday makes them realize how much time has flown and how time keeps slipping away from their fingers, and that's the thing about birthdays: realizing that everyone around you is getting older too.
-
It feels weird to come dressed so nicely, not that you didn't dress properly before but you wear this nice dress and you got your hair styled, you even put some make-up on.
You ring the bell even though you can just let yourself in like usual but you're a guest and this is how you come as a guest.
Through the window, you can see that Felix is coming to open the door and you hurriedly put on a smile.
"Oh, you're here!" He says with a delighted gasp, looking rather a little surprised to see you outside the door.
Felix doesn't hesitate to pull you into a hug. He pulls away the next moment and then takes a step back.
"And looking so gorgeous!" He takes your hand, lifting it in the air to give you a spin.
You can feel the genuineness in his compliment as his eyes shine in the same warmth as his words and your cheeks are heating, flustered from his words.
"Thank you, Felix," you say with a shy smile.
Another moment passes as he can't stop staring at you and he somehow snaps himself out of it, turning his head toward the house.
"Aster, bubba is here and she looks so pretty!" He announces to everyone inside the house.
You're getting even more embarrassed that he shouts it into the house and not long after, you can hear the sound of Aster's footsteps along with his squeals. He looks at you with eyes wide and gleaming like two clear marbles.
"Doesn't bubba look pretty?" Felix asks.
"Bubba pretty," Aster mumbles with a nod of agreement.
Even though he doesn't really understand what he's saying and only repeating his dad's words to you, his compliment tugs at your heartstrings.
"Thank you, cutie," you coo, squatting down to hug him.
You notice that Aster is already dressed as well and even has his shoes on, "What are you wearing Aster?"
He looks at his dad for help and you catch Felix mouthing the word to him, "Overalls," he mumbles.
"I think you look nice," you say, fixing his hair by combing it with your fingers.
"I'm cute," he says with a nod and a grin that shows his two bunny teeth, making you and Felix burst into laughter.
"You are cute," you compliment again and press a quick kiss on his fluffy, bouncy cheek, "Aster, the cutest."
You scoop him into your arms as you follow Felix walk further inside and see through the glass doors that the backyard is already decorated with colorful balloons, there's a tent and a bouncy castle with the theme of Aster's favorite cartoon characters.
"Oh, Aster, it really is your birthday," you coo as you give him a gentle pat on the head, slightly jealous that he is one lucky kid and not aware of it.
"Bubba is here!" Hyunjin beams from the second floor.
"Hi, Mr. Hwang," you playfully greet him, knowing he doesn't like to be addressed by that.
Hyunjin ignores it this time and descends the stairs with his loyal follower, Mandu, leading the way, "And looking stunning too!"
"You clean up pretty good as well, sir!" You compliment back with a grin.
"Stop flirting!" Felix jokingly says with his hands planted on each side of his waist, "Honey, I need you to take Aster because I need bubba in the kitchen."
"Alright," Hyunjin rushes to you and then takes Aster from you.
The birthday party has come to a peak in the afternoon, you don't even have to watch for Aster, he's having fun with the other kids playing inside the tent. The adults are having a blast as well, eating the food Felix has prepared and thoroughly enjoying it.
"I think I came at the right time," Jeongin says, catching you getting out of the house with a tray of food.
"Oh, hi!" You greet, keeping the tray steady in your hands, "Mini burgers?"
"Maybe later?" he kindly refuses.
Felix rushes to you and grabs you by the elbow, "Come on bub! Help me with the cake!"
He drags you into the house, not giving you a chance to say something to Jeongin before leaving.
As you and Felix bringing the cake out of the house with utmost care and cautiousness. Felix has outdone himself, he puts everything in him to make the best birthday cake for his dear son. You feel a little nervous with the fear of your foot stumbling at something haunting the back of your head.
Thankfully, Hyunjin has already gathered everyone and no child is running around that would cause the worst of your nightmare.
Aster gets excited the second the candles are lit and everyone is singing for him, he can't stay still Hyunjin has to hold him close to his chest.
"Happy birthday dear Aster!" Everyone shouts in unison right before he blows the candles along with his parents. "Yay!" Aster joyfully cheers and claps his hands together from successfully doing it in one try.
Everyone bursts into laughter seeing his reaction to it and you can see how loved and cherished he is by everyone around him. You're beyond happy for him but inside, you feel a little sentimental seeing how much he's grown and you took part in raising him, even if it's just a small part of it.
"Happy birthday, my little man," you wish him with a kiss on each of his cheeks and a tight, warm hug.
The kids take turns to get a piece of the birthday cake and run away once they get it. You secure a piece for Jeongin as an apology for not properly welcoming him to the party earlier.
"I saved you a piece," you playfully say as you hand him the plate.
"Thank you very much!" Jeongin beams a smile at you as he takes it.
"Unfortunately, we only serve apple juice but I'll try to get us something stronger," you offer, leaving him for a minute to get cans of soda from the fridge and rejoin him on the table.
"I appreciate it," he says, popping it open with one hand. "Cheers!" You both exclaim at the same time and then sip it.
The kids are nowhere close to tired from running and playing around the backyard which is the opposite of what the adults are feeling, you can see that their energies are slowly drained out just from watching the kids running and playing around.
"How do these kids have so much energy?" Jeongin asks in bewilderment, "Are you sure it's just apple juice?"
"I think one of those kids spiked it with Red Bull," you joke.
"Which one of them?"
"Mmh... let's see," you say, propping a hand under your chin as you watch the kids jumping into the bouncy castle, "I'm pretty sure it's that blonde kid with the bowl-cut hair."
"No," Jeongin disagrees, he points at the girl playing in the sandbox, "I think it's the girl with the space buns."
You burst into laughter and almost spill your drink holding it in.
"What?" He looks at you in confusion.
"How do you know they're called space buns?"
"Why? It's a piece of general knowledge," he defends himself then sips his drink again.
"Okay, yeah, sure," you nonchalantly say with a sly grin.
"Anyway, with the job offer..." Jeongin says as he puts his can on the table, "Does it mean that you'll quit babysitting Aster?"
The soda gets caught in your throat as you hear his question and you quickly clear your throat to answer him, "Yes."
Jeongin nods and looks at you, "Would you say yes if I asked you on a date? You know, hypothetically," he says with a quivering laugh.
"Oh..." you don't mean to drag your word and give him the impression that you're likely to reject him. It's not rejection when he knows the possibility of it continuing from one date to another is low.
"I would love to but it's just... it's not you, I swear, it's just..." you nervously say while fiddling with the lint on the hem of your dress.
"Bad timing?" Jeongin precisely guesses.
You stifle a nod, "I'm sorry," you mutter.
"Hey, no worries. I'll just meet you here under the thinly veiled that I'm the neighbor across the street," Jeongin playfully says with his dimpled smile, making you feel the slightest bit guilty about rejecting him.
It's a kid's birthday party so it ends before the day gets dark. Other than that, the birthday boy himself is tired from skipping his nap and falls asleep on Hyunjin's lap. Seeing that either Hyunjin or Felix has to send the guests off their way, you offer to take Aster inside and tuck him in for bed.
Aster must be so tired that he doesn't stir a bit as you wipe him clean with a damp towel and put him into his sleeping suit all while he's soundly sleeping.
"Sweet dreams, birthday boy," you softly mutter with a tender caress on his cheek.
You put Poppo next to him before quietly leaving the room, making your way back downstairs with a contented feeling from a day that ended well.
Unbeknownst to you, the day is not over yet.
"There she is!" Hyunjin beams from the base of the stairs.
"What? What's wrong?" You ask in confusion as you carefully walk down the stairs.
It's when you finally arrive downstairs and turn toward the kitchen you see Felix carrying another cake for you.
"I made another cake for you," Felix says with a smile.
The cake size is identical to Aster's birthday cake but it has a different color of icing, it's lilac with sugar pearls around it and there are candles on it too.
"Come here!" Felix says, putting the cake down on the dining table.
"Come on!" Hyunjin appears behind you and steers you by the shoulders to the dining table.
"Is it really for me?" You ask in disbelief.
"Yes, bub," Felix shortly answers as he's lighting the candles, "to celebrate you graduating soon!"
It's endearing that they're planning all this just to celebrate graduating and you're not even officially graduated yet. You feel so appreciated and cherished, more importantly, these people make you feel like you're a member of the family.
"This is so sweet," you coo, feeling so touched by the gesture.
"Shh... blow the candles," Felix says with a hand resting on the small of your back.
You treat it as a it's your own birthday, closing your eyes and making a wish, wishing it from deep within your heart, and as you blow the candles, you manifest it into the universe.
"Congratulations on graduating, bub!" Felix mutters with a smile and pulls you into a warm hug, then places a kiss on your cheek before letting go.
"Congratulations, bubba!" Hyunjin takes his turn to hug you, also placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.
"We actually have a gift for you to go with this but this man right here," Felix points at Hyunjin with a side eye, "forgot to pick it up."
"Oh, no, please, this is more than enough," you say with a grateful smile.
"Let's have a slice!" Felix hands you the knife but you can't bring yourself to cut it. Not only because it's too beautiful to eat, it means a lot more than just a cake.
You look at Felix and wince, "Can I at least take a few pictures first?"
Felix cracks a laugh, "Sure. It's your cake."
"I'll get us drinks," Hyunjin says, excusing himself to leave to get it, "Real drinks!"
The cake is sliced, the champagne is poured and well distributed, and the three of you kick off the after-party with a toast. After a sip of bubbly wine, you take a bite of the cake and gosh, it's just as delicious as it looks.
"Now, this feels like my birthday!" You jokingly say with a grin.
"So... what's the plan?" Felix hesitantly asks as he puts away his plate of cake.
"Pardon?"
"Your plan after graduating?"
You've been meaning to tell them but keep refraining yourself, you're afraid that you'll make them feel like you're betraying them but it has come the time to come clean.
"Not too long ago, I got this job offer from a firm in the city," you share.
"Oh?" Felix's voice drops as if he's hearing something that he doesn't want to hear.
This is why you hate to bear this news and as much as you hate to continue, you have to tell them the rest of it, "I'll move away to the city soon."
"We're so happy to hear that, bub," Hyunjin says with a big, exaggerated smile and pulls Felix close to his side.
"I'm sorry if this sounded so sudden. With Aster's birthday and everything, I just haven't had the chance to tell you until now," you explain, feeling the weight pressing on your chest.
After a while, Felix looks at you and smiles at you, "No need to worry bub. We're happy for you and we fully support you," he assures you but you can hear the sheer sadness lingering in his voice.
"I'm sorry," you say once again with utmost sincerity.
"Stop apologizing!" Felix scolds you and pulls you for another hug, "I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you," you earnestly say as you hug him back.
"I mean, we still have two months before I leave," you add in an effort to cheer him up.
"For now, more champagne, please daddy?" Felix says, ordering Hyunjin to refill everyone's glasses with more wine.
As everyone moved on past the sentimental part of it, the private party continues and you've been secretly mustering up the courage to ask them something.
"Do you guys perhaps have a date night next week?" You shyly ask.
Felix looks at Hyunjin and sighs, "It depends on this guy right here," he says with yet another side eye.
"Why do you ask?" Hyunjin asks, elegantly cutting the cake with a fork.
"I want to join your date night," you bravely answer.
On a few occurrences, they asked if you wanted to join their date night and either they were joking or being serious, you felt bad for rejecting them. However this time, you dare to ask them because this is what you want.
"Well... we can arrange something for that," Felix says as he exchanges glances with Hyunjin.
Hyunjin repeatedly nods and holds his wine glass by its stem, "It'll be fun."
You pick up your wine glass and smile at both of them, then say, "Can't wait."
-
The last time you had a proper date was nearly two years ago and you forgot how intense it could be, you can't decide on which dress to wear or the make-up you put on is too much, or do you apply too much perfume? Every decision you have to make feels like life or death.
You can move past it by reminding yourself that both Hyunjin and Felix have seen you, they know what you look like on both good and bad days, and you're sure they will like you no matter what.
By the time you're ready, you take a look at yourself in the mirror and you're not going to lie, you like what you see and it gives you a boost of confidence.
"That's right. I look good, I have nothing to worry about," you say to the reflection in the mirror that looks back at you.
However, when your mum informs you that Hyunjin is outside to pick you up, the nerves come back and are stronger than before.
"I hope you don't mind we're borrowing her for the night," Hyunjin playfully says to your mum as he helps you get into the car.
"You can take her and not return it, I'll be fine with it," your mum says to him.
Your mum knows Hyunjin and Felix well because the babysitting job initially came to her before it got to you. For tonight, you told her that they're taking you on a dinner out to celebrate your graduation, and no other questions asked after that.
"Bye, Mum!" You say with a wave of hand.
Hyunjin gets into the car afterward and he immediately turns to look at you, "I obviously waited until I got in the car to say this but you look lovely tonight, bub," he sweetly compliments.
"Thank you," you say as you put on your safety belt.
It doesn't take long to get to their house and you feel nervous again, mostly because you came for a different reason. Not for work, but purely for pleasure.
One weekend every month, Aster stays with his grandparents per their requests which explains why he is very fond of them. It seems like they chose this weekend to send Aster to his grandparents.
"Felix has been keeping himself busy in the kitchen," Hyunjin mutters before opening the front door for you.
"Not less than I expected," you say.
It's no surprise that Felix is going over the top for tonight. It was supposed to be a simple dinner but he outdone himself by adding flowers and candles, shiny cutlery, and fancy wine glasses.
"Just in time!" Felix beams as soon as he sees you enter the house.
"Hi," you greet, unbuttoning your coat with one hand, and then Hyunjin helps take it off your shoulders.
"Is that really you, bub?" Felix exclaims, his eyes shine as he lays his eyes on you as if he's seeing something wondrous.
Flustered, you put your hands close to your side and avoid his eyes, "It's just a dress," you sheepishly say.
"Well, dinner is ready so please take a seat!" Felix says while coming around and getting behind the kitchen island.
Hyunjin does more actions than talking, he goes to the dining table and pulls a chair for you, "Please!" He says with an elegant wave of hand.
Not that they never treated you this nicely but still, it feels a little weird to be treated this way as if you're... special. Deep down, you know you like it, you're just not used to it.
Felix takes care of the food and Hyunjin takes care of the drinks, both of them insist you do not do anything except sit and enjoy the dinner.
The dinner is beyond anything you ever had, it's even better than the one you had at the finest restaurant. Maybe it feels that way before they're made by Felix and your palate is used to his cooking.
"Compliments to the chef!" You praise as you finish the last course of the dinner.
"I'm glad you liked it," Felix says with a smile.
"Liked it?" You ask in disbelief, "I loved it!"
As expected, Felix refuses your help to collect the dirty dishes and take them to the kitchen. He makes you wait on the sofa as Hyunjin goes to take a new bottle of wine.
"Now it's time for more wine!" Hyunjin announces when he returns, refilling everyone's glasses with white wine this time.
You often wonder what they do at a date night but it's far simpler than what you imagined, just talking in between sips of wine or bites of food, the only difference is the depth and the quality of the talk. The most interesting thing is getting to know them from a whole new perspective.
"Oh, we almost forgot!" Felix gasps as he's just remembered something.
He then glances at Hyunjin and says, "The gift!"
"Yep. Don't worry. I got it," Hyunjin assures him, sprinting to his suit jacket draped on the headrest of the sofa and taking something from the inner pocket, a small, velvety box.
Felix seems to be more excited than you, perhaps he's been anticipating to see your reaction to it. Hyunjin sits on the other side and pulls the lid open.
"We hope you like it," Felix softly says as he places his hand on your knee.
It's a bracelet and you assume it's white gold from how it glimmers under the light, it's dainty and has a small pendant that hangs like a little lucky charm.
"I love it!" You truthfully say with a suppressed squeal.
"Give me your wrist," Hyunjin gently orders and you obey him without questions, holding out your hand at him. You watch as he puts the bracelet around your wrist and clasps it together.
"There!" He says with a soft smile that makes his eyes form two crescents.
You take a moment to admire how it looks around your waist and how the shiny gold reflects the lights to your eyes, "It's beautiful. Thank you!" You sincerely say to both of them.
"You're very welcome, my love!" Felix says, putting his arm around your shoulder to pull you close.
Using the proximity to your advantage, you lean in and press a kiss on his lips. It catches him off guard that he's stiffened for a second and when it finally registered to him, he returns the kiss.
"Hey, what about me? I'm the one who picked up the gift," Hyunjin says, suddenly feeling left out.
"Thank you, Hyunjin," You say with a chuckle, purposely addressing him by his name to amuse him.
He doesn't wait for you to lean in, he puts his hand on your chin and turns your head his way, and then slowly, he leans in to kiss you.
The moment his lips melt on yours, all of your senses are going out of the window but one thing that your brain demands is more of that kiss and so Felix fulfills that for you, planting kisses on your neck.
A low moan escapes your mouth as you feel the softness of their lips leaving searing kisses on your exposed skin and their hands exploring your clothed body with utmost gentleness.
As you take a moment to breathe, Felix drags his lips to your neck while Hyunjin playfully nibbles on your ear with his teeth faintly tugging at it, it feels ticklish yet inexplicably arouses you.
"You smell really good, babe," Felix murmurs with his lips grazing the sensitive skin on the column of your throat.
Hyunjin captures your lips in a hungry kiss, not giving you a chance to respond to Felix's words. His hand trails the curve of your body and continues its way down south. Your legs reflexively pressed together as his hand inches closer to where the heat is but Felix halts it, catching his hand just before it gets to its destination.
"Let's take it to the bedroom first," Felix says to Hyunjin with his lips red, swollen, and wet.
It could be the wine or simply those kisses are so dizzying that you're staggering as you get on your feet. Fortunately, Hyunjin is quick to hold you and keeps you steady by putting his arm around your waist.
"Want to take a sobriety test first?" He jokingly asks.
"Oh, my God! It was just a bottle of wine," you answer with a sassy eye roll.
They choose the guest bedroom for two reasons, it's closer and it's where you usually sleep when you need to stay over. The lights are low, there are rose petals on the bed and on the other part of the room, Hyunjin lighting some candles to create an even more intimate ambiance in the room.
As you take it in, Felix hugs you from the back and then presses a soft kiss on your neck before resting his head on your shoulder.
"You know that you're our special girl, right?" He lowly speaks but with his deep voice, it feels as if he's speaking right through your soul.
"Our very own special girl," Hyunjin says as he gives you a rose.
You bring the flower close to your nose to inhale its sweet, distinct aroma and smile.
"I know," you answer.
A smile blooms on Hyunjin's angular face as he comes up to you and you think he's about to kiss you until he misses your lips to kiss Felix.
"You may be our special girl but my husband is the most special," Hyunjin says without the slightest bit of doubt.
You don't feel offended at all by that, if anything, you feel special just from being allowed to be a part of their relationship.
"That's fair," you say with a chuckle.
As he kisses Felix more, Hyunjin comes closer to hug his husband with you in between until there is no an inch left between your bodies. Instead of feeling jealous like you used to, you feel warm all over as if the love they have for each other seeps into you.
They can't seem to ignore you for long though, they put their attention on you again. Behind you, Felix swiftly pulls down the zipper of your dress and impatiently parts it open so he can place kisses on it while Hyunjin keeps your lips busy with his deep, hungry kisses.
It's all happening so fast that the next thing you know, the dress is off of your body and pooling around your ankle, and you're standing with just your underwear in between them.
Using his knuckles, Felix whimpers as he drags them down your spine, feeling how soft it feels under his touch, and gets the urge to explore more by unclasping your bra next.
"Ah..." you softly sigh as the bra is snapped open.
Felix pulls the straps down your shoulders and Hyunjin's eyes grow darker as the bra is finally off of you, exposing your soft mounds to him.
Felix's hands are the first to indulge in them, cupping them until the flesh molds into his hands. His fingers occasionally circling on your hardening buds and then he holds them up for Hyunjin to feast on.
"Take them in your mouth, love," Felix orders him.
Without words, Hyunjin obeys him, taking your breasts into his mouth in turns.
"Oh—" you suppress your moan as Felix pushes both of your breasts to the center so Hyunjin can take them both at once.
The sight of his plush lips wrapped around your nipples is arousing as it is but oh, it's seeing his slick, hot tongue twirling your nipples that make your eyes roll to the back, all the while Felix placing hot kisses all over your neck and shoulder.
Felix eventually let go of your breasts, he's gliding his hands down your sides and makes a trail of kisses down your spine, he doesn't stop until he's kneeling on the floor and starts kissing and sucking on the flesh on your ass cheeks.
"Oh, my God..." you heavily sigh, feeling overwhelmed with how many stimulations going on at once.
Hyunjin with his greedy mouth on your breasts and Felix with his ferocious bites on your ass, these two attractive people are feasting on your body and it's just the beginning.
A moment later, Hyunjin follows suit and goes down on you. You look down and watch as they're eating you from the front and back with their hands intertwined on the side of your thighs, it's romantic yet kinky as fuck.
Your underwear is drenched from both your essence and Hyunjin's saliva. Your eyes are fluttering open and shut. Your legs are trembling from the pleasure building up inside you.
Felix notices that you're getting unsteady and quickly puts his hands on your back
"Shall we take it to bed, mmh?" He doesn't wait for your answer but steers you to the bed, letting you sit on the edge of the bed.
Giving you a moment to gather your senses, Hyunjin and Felix are taking each other's clothes off with eyes locked in an intense gaze until there's nothing left but their heavenly bodies on show.
Your brain can't comprehend their beauty and their sculpted Greek God body. You can only watch in awe as their lips meet in a rapturous kiss and if you have to be honest, you can keep watching them making out in front of you for eternity.
After a moment though, you change your mind. You don't want to be a mere watcher, you want to get yourself in there and take part in it. You take the initiative to kneel in between them and take their hardening members in your hands. You begin by slowly stroking them at a steady pace and when you're ready, you take them into your mouth in turns.
At times, you bring their tips together and lick them together, taking as much as you can into your mouth.
"Such a good girl," Hyunjin murmurs with a pat on your head, seeing your mouth full of his cock and at the same time, pumping Felix's cock with your hand.
Felix looks down and puts his hand in your hair, "I told you. She's a fast learner," he says.
They decide that it's your turn next, they make you get back on the bed and lay on your back. With a sly smile on his face, Felix parted your legs open, making you feel more exposed than you already are.
"Just lay back, okay bub?" Felix says with a smile.
With his hand holding your leg by the ankle, he dives into your wetness and skillfully pleases you with his hot mouth. Doesn't want to feel left out, Hyunjin patiently waits for his turn to plant his mouth on you next. You glance down and see their heads hanging between your legs, their mouth glistening wet and their lips flushing red.
The pleasure keeps building up and you lose track of whose turn it is because they are as skillful and offering you the same amount of pleasure. They only stop when they deem you're already on the edge and then give you a moment to recollect your senses to get you ready for next.
Hyunjin and Felix lay on each side of you on the bed, lips locked, hands all over and skin brushes against the skin. They may have tuned it down a little but the tension keeps on rising.
"How are you so soft, mmh?" Hyunjin asks with his mouth only inches away from your ear and his hand gently pinching the squishy flesh on your stomach.
"Can't stop touching you, bub," he murmurs with his hand going down south to touch you on your delicate flesh, gently rubbing on your bundle of nerves until it blossoms under his touch.
Felix turns your head his way so he can kiss you, kisses you so deep that your body eventually molds against him and your back meets Hyunjin's chest.
"Oh, yes, baby," Hyunjin mutters, not sure if he's saying that to you or Felix, or both. One thing for sure is he's enjoying the view.
Hyunjin lays on his side and then lifts your back, drapes your upper leg the back, and over his hips, that way he can rub his cock in your wetness.
"Mmh... so wet," Hyunjin's voice is muffled as he speaks with his mouth pressed on your shoulder.
As he rubs his cock between your wet folds, you can feel every inch of his length, swollen and hot, so ready for you and at the same time, making you feel impatient to have it inside you.
You turn your head and bravely ask for what you want from him, "Want you inside," you say to his face.
Instead of looking surprised, Hyunjin shows a satisfied expression as if he's been waiting for you to say that. He hastily kisses your lips and keeps his face close to yours.
"Want it inside, huh?"
"Uh-huh," you answer with an eager nod.
"You heard the girl, babe," Felix says, leisurely laying on your side with a hand propped under his head.
Hyunjin softly laughs and presses you another haste kiss while his hand aims his cock into your entrance, teasing it for a little bit while lubing his length with your arousal.
"Ready to take me?" He asks with a wicked grin plastered on his face.
But that is just a rhetorical question, he doesn't need your answer to push his cock inside you to fulfill your wish.
"Oh..." you grip his forearm as he pushes more of him into you.
Next to you, Felix's eyes are centered on Hyunjin's cock, and watches it going into you little by little while slowly stroking his cock.
"You're always tight for me, bub," he murmurs.
Hyunjin abruptly stops pushing and places his hand on the dip of your waist. It seems like he's taking this moment for himself to calm himself down and take a breather.
After a while, he asks you, "More, yeah?"
"Yes, please," you say but it comes out more like a whine at how small and needy you sounded.
Hyunjin has no other intention but to give you what you want, putting the rest of his length into you in one quick push, making you jolt against his body and tightly grip his forearm your nails dug into the flesh.
"You feel so good I need a moment just to compose myself," Hyunjin mutters as he rests his hand across your chest.
However, a moment only lasts for a moment and Hyunjin begins thrusting into you from behind, setting a slow pace to give you more time to adjust to being inside each other.
Felix refuses to be a mere spectator, he turns and lays upside down next to you. He uses your thigh as a pillow as he lays on his back and puts his mouth on your clit, unbothered by the fact that Hyunjin's cock is deep inside you.
You also refuse to remain idle when Felix's cock is within kissing distance from yours, you prop your elbows against the mattress and lean in to put it into your mouth, you compensate the rest you can't take with your hand.
The three of you eventually move in sync and soon, the room is filled with all sorts of lewd noises, it's either the skin-slapping sounds of Hyunjin's thrusts, the slurping sounds of Felix licking on your clit or your mouth sloppily sucking on Felix's cock.
"Bub, I won't be able to stop if you keep clenching around me like that," Hyunjin warns through his gritted teeth.
The exceptional dynamic only lasts that long as you abruptly pull Felix's cock out of your mouth but keep your hand wrapped around his length, struggling between gasping for air or moaning out of pleasure.
Hyunjin slows his thrusts but he adds depth and intensity to it, launching his cock deeper into you and continuously hitting you right on the spot thus bringing you closer to your high.
"I'm so close, oh—" your moan gets cut off as Hyunjin thrusts slower but harder. Your hand flies to the back and gets caught in his silky locks.
"Why do you feel so good, oh fuck, I can't—" Hyunjin's voice breaks, also can't hold himself back anymore.
You feel faint the closer you get to your climax and completely lose it as you reach your high, your eyes screwed shut and your body stiffens and softens in the next second.
"Oh!" Hyunjin grunts with his open mouth planted on the nape of your neck, his breath feels hot on your skin. With eyes closed, he manages to find your lips and kisses them.
"I didn't mean to cum inside you, bub," he says against your lips, "I'm sorry."
If he didn't tell you, you wouldn't have noticed that his cock is still planted deep inside you, engorging and pulsating as it releases his seed, which explains the different kind of high you experienced just now.
You take a breath to be able to speak and nod, "That's okay."
"You just feel so good. I can't control myself," He openly admits.
"It's okay," you assure him.
He wraps his arms around you and holds you close, he buries his head in the crook of your neck, enveloping you both in a warm embrace.
When he's ready, he slowly pulls out of you and looks down to see his cum dripping out of you. So is Felix, his eyes widen at the sight of it that he takes a big gulp of air.
"Oh, I cum a lot," Hyunjin says, his hand tenderly rubbing your inner thigh.
"I got it, love," Felix says with an easy smile.
You're clueless as to what he meant by that until Felix leans in and licks Hyunjin's essence off of you, he then plants his mouth on your cunt and sucks deeper as if he tries to take as much Hyunjin's remnants out of you. You're already overstimulated as it is but that doesn't mean you stop receiving pleasure from it.
When he lifts his face, Felix's mouth and chin are glistening wet with mixed fluids, of your and Hyunjin's essence, and also his saliva.
"That's better," Felix says with a satisfied smile.
Hyunjin smiles before pressing a haste kiss on his lips and cleaning his mouth and chin in kitten licks.
"More wine?" Hyunjin offers out of the blue.
After all of that, you think it's the right time to take a break and have some wine to quench your thirst from the cardio and constant moaning.
"Yes, please," you breathlessly respond as you lay on your back, exhausted.
Hyunjin has no problems walking out of the room fully naked to get a bottle of wine. You and Felix wait on the bed, lying next to each other, also naked.
"You know what? We should have asked the cute neighbor to join us," Felix shares all of a sudden.
"What's with this random thought?" You ask in disbelief, hugging a pillow close to your chest.
"I don't know. It just crossed my head," Felix innocently says.
"Don't tell me you've been thinking of another guy as we were doing it?" You say with a look of disbelief.
"Uhm... maybe," He jokingly answers.
You gently slap his chest and you don't expect his chest muscles to be that firm.
"Get it together!" You scold him.
"What did I miss?" Hyunjin returns with a bottle of wine in hand and glasses in the other.
"Bubba is surprisingly into BDSM," Felix jokingly responds.
"No!" You hastily deny and land another slap on his chest.
"See?" Felix rants with a low laugh.
Hyunjin carefully pours wine into each glass, not wanting to spill a drop on the bed and as usual, everyone has a toast to finally take a sip of it.
"Bub, I must say, you improved a lot," Hyunjin compliments.
"What is that supposed to mean?" You say, slightly embarrassed by it.
"That's true. You're more confident and more responsive, also intuitive," Felix comments.
"I get the impression that you guys are evaluating my performance..." your words trail off as you look at them in the eyes, first at Felix then at Hyunjin.
"Because we are," Hyunjin jokes then sips his wine.
"Don't worry, bub. You did so well!" Felix says with a thumbs-up.
Not going to lie, you feel a boost of confidence hearing that you feel like you accomplished something that you didn't know you were trying to achieve in the first place. Maybe it's because you care about them so much that their opinions matter to you, no matter what they are about.
However, there's one more thing you try to accomplish tonight.
First, you finish your second round of wine and put the glass away. The alcohol helps you to loosen up and gives you the courage to ask.
"Can I be on top next?"
The question seems to shock Hyunjin more than it does to Felix, he forces swallow his drink and gasps for air.
"Are you saying you want to do it again? Right away?" Hyunjin asks in disbelief while Felix is slyly smiling at you.
"Why? Are you tired?" You say in a mocking tone.
Felix bursts out laughing and rolls over to lay on his stomach, "Ooh... who is this girl?"
"I don't know but, love..." Hyunjin pauses to turn his head toward Felix, "I think we found our match."
-
It's not easy as you thought but you asked for it.
Fortunately, both Felix and Hyunjin have been nothing but letting you do anything as you please. They don't mind being ordered around by you.
"Ooh... I really like the view," Felix says as you get on top of him.
He's seen you naked a couple of times but it only takes Felix one compliment to make you flustered.
"Come. Bring it in!" He says, holding up his arms at you and asking for a kiss.
You give it to him, lowering yourself until your lips meet in a kiss that somehow feels a lot more intimate than the previous ones you shared.
It's your first time being on top which also makes you the one with more control. You feel nervous because what if you're doing it wrong? What if he doesn't enjoy it? What if, what if, what if...
As if he heard it, Felix tenderly caresses your cheek and brushes your hair away from your face, "Just enjoy yourself and know that I'll be enjoying it no matter what," he comforts you.
"Yes," you say with a smile.
Felix's makes its way down to tease you, making you drenched once more to get you ready for him. He doesn't need to do much for that, you're already aroused from how he kisses you so hard but gentle at the same time.
When it comes to the time, you take a deep breath and lift off of him. You give his cock a few slow pumps before aligning it with your entrance.
"Need help with that?" Hyunjin appears from behind you, he checks whether you're aiming it right then places his hands on each side of your waist.
"Now, slowly lower yourself down," he further instructed.
You nod and follow his instruction, lowering yourself down and feeling the tip of Felix's cock enters you. You sigh as you need to take the rest to continue.
"Yes, bub, keep going," Felix encourages, enjoying both the view and the tightness that wrapped around him.
Hyunjin watches from over your shoulder and at times, mutters sweet nothings into your ear.
"Keep going, bub."
"You feel that? Feel how hard he is inside you?"
"Oh, if only you know how good you feel."
Hyunjin shifts his attention to his husband who's lying underneath you, "She feels fucking good, mmh?"
"Oh... so good!" Felix answers without a beat.
Here's the tricky part, you can't decide whether you should bouncing on his cock or rocking your hips back and forth. Again, this is your first time being on top, everything is new to you and you don't know which Felix prefers.
However, you remember what Felix said and remind yourself that all you need to do is enjoy yourself. You let go of inhibitions and insecurities, stop thinking altogether, and start doing.
You move by instinct whichever you feel would bring you the most pleasure and put your mind into it, relax and breathe, and enjoy yourself.
"You're getting too good at it," Felix says with an overwhelmed sigh. He takes your hands and laces them together, letting them be your support as you roll your hips back and forth at a steady pace.
Hyunjin's hands are all over you, kneading your breasts and touching your soft skin. His lips find solace in the crook of your neck, kissing, muttering sweet nothings, or simply just planting his luscious lips there.
You're doing whatever it is that makes you feel good, you change the pace and alternate between rocking or pulsating your hips. You're so into it that you're not noticing how Felix keeps himself quiet anymore, he lets them spill out of his mouth, filling the room with his deep, raw groans.
"You're close, mmh?" Hyunjin asks, squeezing on your breasts and then gently pinches your nipple.
Not sure if he needs your answer or not, but you know he knows.
"No need to hold yourself back, my darling," Hyunjin whispers in the softest tone that feels like a quick gust of wind.
No one tells you that it's going to be this exhausting but damn, you want to keep going and you won't stop until you reach your high.
Hyunjin comes to your aid, guiding your movement, and firmly grips your waist to regain your rhythm as it begins to turn sloppy.
Deep down, you feel selfish for getting yourself closer to your high instead of your partner but you can't help yourself. Your body wants what it wants.
"I'm close, I'm close," you repeatedly say in a mix of a moan and a cry your brain is too foggy to tell the difference.
"Keep going, bub, keep going!" Hyunjin says, giving up on guiding you as you suddenly pick up the pace and go impossibly fast.
"Oh!" You cry out loud, reaching your high that feels more intense than the previous.
You collapse onto Felix and he immediately holds you close while keeping his hips bucking into you to finish it. He doesn't even say anything but turns into a moaning mess as he cum inside you.
The second your head hits the pillow, you mean to rest your eyes for a moment only to fall asleep, blacked out for the rest of the night.
-
The next morning, you find yourself snuggling close to Hyunjin.
It doesn't hit you yet that you're sleeping over at their place and sharing the bed with the owners, oh wait, you turn your head to the side to find Felix's space is empty. He's always been an early bird and is probably busy making breakfast in the kitchen.
You turn your head back at Hyunjin and you realize this is the first time you see him up close, you can see the faint mole under his eyes and the shade of red his lips are. There's only one conclusion: Hyunjin is inarguably beautiful.
As if he senses your observant eyes, Hyunjin steers in his sleep, and knowing how horrible you look right now, you don't want to be the first thing he sees in the morning so you pull the duvet higher, covering half of your face with it.
He forces his eyes open and smiles when he sees you, "Morning," he says with his voice deeper than usual.
"Morning," you meekly say back.
"Where's Felix?"
"I'm pretty sure he's in the kitchen," you answer.
"As expected," he says with a sleepy smile.
Unconsciously, you find yourself staring at him again as he brushes his soft locks to the back and then puts his arm above his head, showcasing his bulging biceps. Unintentionally or not, you enjoy the morning view.
"Stop staring, creep!" He playfully says with a sly smile.
"I'm just curious," you say, still covering your face with the duvet, "Are you always waking up looking this good?"
The question remains unanswered, Hyunjin refuses to answer until he has his first sip of morning coffee and you feel inexplicably hungry, famished even.
"Don't forget your morning after," Felix reminds you, putting the pill and a glass of water in front of you.
"Thank you," you waste no time to take it.
The breakfast is quiet, maybe because everyone is just as famished as you or maybe the caffeine is not kicking in yet, either way, you're enjoying this kind of silence, it's nice and comfortable, the kind that doesn't conjure any questions.
"What time are we going to pick up Aster?" Felix asks as he spreads butter on his toast.
"I don't know. Eleven?" Hyunjin doubtfully answers while holding his mug of coffee with both hands.
"The weather is nice. We should have lunch out," Felix suggests as he puts the buttered toast on your plate, "Do you have any plans for today, lovely?"
"Me?" You ask for confirmation as your brain hasn't fully functioning yet, "I have to drive my mum to her dentist appointment."
"Oh, I was hoping you could join us today," Felix says with sheer disappointment.
You may have spent the night with them and had a date night with them, but you're not ready to cross certain boundaries yet. After all, they're married and at times, you have to remember your place, because you promised yourself not to ruin this precious thing they have. You love this family so much as your own that you get the urge to protect it, including from yourself.
"Maybe next time," you kindly refuse.
"How about next week?" Felix asks, tilting your head and slyly smiling at you.
"What about next week?" You ask in confusion.
Felix loops his fingers around the handle of his coffee mug, "Want to go on another date night with us?"
Okay but for this one? You have to take a moment to consider it but if you have to be honest, it's just too good of an opportunity to pass.
Hyunjin flashes a smile your way and lifts his coffee mug close to his lips, "Same time, next week?"
Last night was fun, last night was thrilling and exciting, and damn it, you crave the rush of it already. Surely, you want to do it all over again so you smile back at him and say, "Same time, next week."
-
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emacrow · 5 months ago
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The Gods were ecstatic, Their very being were quaking with excitement minus Zeus whom was put in the time out corner.
They been waiting for eons for a New Godling to form since Arthur and Merlin, but the new generation of humankind can't even do one simple translation of the supposed dead language that until Spirit Piece of Kronos now named Clockwork mention a godling of Balance and Space will form between the living and the dead that has gotten Hades's interest peaked.
So begins the ritual once more on whom get to care for the baby Godling once or hopefully This child will be complete his prophecy quest with the Ancients Gods and Goddess watching over form above and below. In hopefully anticipation..
Seeing the ghostly child defeat many infinite deceased spirits of long passed gods including helping kindred spirits such as Pandora, Frostbite of the Frozen Giant Yetis, Wolfe and even Clockwork to the point of defeating his evil future self, beating the tyrant mad infinite king, and saving the very planet from a world ending asteroid that was due to certain someone accidentally sneezing.
The time has arrived as he had completed his final trials to the point that the Three Sister of Fate see that his string that translucent into a beautiful woven of blinding gold mixed with blue and green together into a neverending infinite so like the infinite string yet seemingly finally merging and slowly changing into one a godling, one of both living and deceased never one or the other.
A perfect balance.
As the time of being with mortals was now over as Danny whom just went to bed after a year of the supposed world ending asteroid, disappeared in a vanishing of golden stardust.
Only to wake up in the middle of a very large table on a ridiculous soft space designed cot meant for baby, only to noticed his hands were small and pudgy before noticing that he had a audience discussing or arguing on who get to raise the Godling
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kumasakka · 6 days ago
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 2 ! ❞
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⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. nagi seishiro x reader , mikage reo x reader , itoshi sae x reader .
⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the moment he realized that he has the biggest crush on you.
⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.7k words . 0.5-0.7k words each.
⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. drabble for each one. fluff. crack. f!reader. nagi ain't nagi-ing. reo kinda plantonic. sae is an ass, but we still love him. spoiler - free ! safe for minors ! crappy writing. nagi, reo and sae may seem ooc. part 1 with isagi, bachira and rin !
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NAGI SEISHIRO. when you interrupted his game—
 TO be honest, even though he was on his way to win and reach a new highscore, he wasn't the slightest annoyed by the call. Well, only after reading your name that had a little emoji next to the large letters.
Mind you, Nagi never cared enough to save other numbers with emojis or nicknames. He even saved Reo's number as »Reo« and not »[name] :x«. Wow that's quite the big accomplishment, you definitely should get an oscar for this.
"Hmm..?" he hummed under his breath.
"Seishiro, can you come pick me up? I'm scared as heck right now." you cried out, making him look out of his window.
It was night. No surprise.
"You here? Where are you?"
"At the bus stop near you. Please hurry, it's cold."
"Coming..."
He lazily hung up before sitting up from his bed and quickly taking his jacket with him—he stopped in his tracks and walked up to take gloves and a scarf with him, surprised that he even found that in his house. His mother probably gave him those before he moved out.
"Surprise, Seishiro..!" you happily called out his name, immediately running up to him with a bright smile.
"That's my name..." he muttered and inwardly felt how the happiness was bubbling. "Here."
With that, he messily wrapped the scarf around your neck and handed over you the gloves. "Y'said you're cold." he whispered, putting his freezing hands into his pockets to warm them up while you stared at the gloves.
"Since when were you this thoughtful?" you grinned, putting on those gloves.
He didn't reply—he couldn't reply, not if he doesn't know the answer himself so he only shrugs his shoulders, his eyes focused on your red nose because of the cold. "You look like rudolf." the white-headed boy commented.
"And you must be Santa. Let's go Santa!" the grin didn't falter, only getting wider with each second passing. "To your house!"
You wrapped your left arm with his right one while leading the way. Just like always since primary school. A trait that never left since you were kids, always leading him—you didn't even know the way yourself but you didn't stop.
Just like now, you're aimlessly walking around and not knowing the way to his house. But that was no surprise because he moved away after all, to visit Hakuho High while you stayed Kanagawa prefecture, going to high school there.
"You know the way?"
"Nope, but fate will show me." you grinned.
Fate let him meet you and he's glad.
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MIKAGE REO. when you rejected his gifts—
 AT the start of all—Reo thought he needed to get you things to make you stay. While you were aware he was the future heir of the big Mikage company, you always took your distance, being comfortable to accept his smaller gifts.
With an awkward smile though, since whenever you refused to, he'd always push it towards you again or hide it in your pocket, locker or even mailbox. Reo did NOT take a no as an answer, a trait that slightly annoyed you.
Just because you accept his small gifts, doesn't mean you'll accept his bigger ones. The concept of gift giving and the meaning of handmade things slowly losts it's value in your relationship, a friendly relationship, not a romantic one.
By the way, the cause of this is you accepting the first one. You thought it was a friendly gesture of him, not knowing that it would turn the switch in his head—now thinking that you would leave his side when he has nothing anymore. Spoiler alert: you wouldn't.
"Reo, please." you plead, placing your hands on top of his shoulders and pushing him away.
Everyone around you stared at the tame tiger he bought to school, too shocked to say anything. What? Yeah okay, you like cats and also liked the cute tiger in the circus, does not mean he should've bought you one!
"Take the tiger back to the circus..." you sighed out, now out of everyone's sight. "I know you're being kind and I know i'm more than amazing, but you're not being considerate! Who said I can take care of a big cat?! And who the heck gives someone a tiger?!" you ran your hands through your hair.
"[name]... Don't you want to be my friend anymore?" a shadow casted across his eyes through his bangs as he whispered quietly under his breath and didn't even try to understand your side.
Stop. Where the heck is the dramatic music and theatrical light from?
"I do want to be your friend. Honestly. But sometimes it's too much. Like this tiger?! Reo, I'm broke as hell, the opposite of you. I should be the one to be sad, why are the roles switched?"
"But you're not accepting my gift for you."
"Wow is this all that matters to you? Gifts? Seriously? The person who stands infront of me is the biggest gift in life." you huffed, crossing your arms. "That was lowkey cheesy."
"You don't understand—"
"Bi— Reo, you're the one who doesn't understand. Thought you were smart. So, I'm rejecting your gift. If you want me to forgive you, then make me something by your own hands! Like flowers out of paper or something."
"Flowers... out of cheap paper?" he deadpanned. "You deserve the best."
"I do, I know. That's why I have you and Nagi and this school I guess." you shrugged your shoulders with a grin, your choice of words made his cheeks heat up. "Now, come on. Take this tiger back to the circus."
"Can you come over the weekend and teach me how to make paper flowers?"
"Of course, I can."
"Reo?! Didn't I say back to take back the tiger?!" you froze as soon as you entered probably the biggest penthouse in whole Japan.
"[name], you like cats though." he pointed at the tame big cat.
"Hell yes, I do!" and you jumped onto it, not afraid of getting bit—maybe a little while he was watching.
Your love can't be bought, Reo realizes.
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ITOSHI SAE. when he noticed that he listened to your yapping (he never listens to anyone.)—
 ACTUALLY, why does he always accept your phone call no matter how busy he is? You worked your magic and now he always has to deal with the aftermath, because he's about to hang up. You're always the complaining!
That he's so far away and that you miss him (he's deeply honored but will never admit. a ghost whispered it to me). You're also about to quit college, book your tickets to spain and then jump on him and he always has to tell you no.
Since when did he accept calls just to hear them complain? They should feel blessed that he even cared enough to answer for the love of god. And you do not get a special bonus just because you've been friends since childhood.
It may affects you even worse than better. It's not like you care though, you're still mad at him. Remember when he once came to Japan and yet he didn't message you about it? Yes, you found out through the internet!
You only annoy him because you're still mad about that and also because that's your way of showing how much you care abouthl him. Talk about care enough, you still maintaining a good relationship Rin who loathes his brother.
Why? The reason why is, before Sae flew to Japan, he wished for you to take care of his immature, younger brother. So you did. You always keep your word (he loves that about you, as a friend of course. a ghost whispered it to me).
Something he hates about you? Yeah there are a lot of things.You wanna know what he hates the most though? When you call him in the middle of the night, even though you're aware that you two have an eight hours time zone difference.
It's his fault for accepting though. Just like now.
"—Sae, sae, sae, sae! I found out Rin has a big fat crush on his friend." you laughed like a little kid, while laying on bed. "He went on a friendly date with her the last weekend to the cinema and they watched a romance movie. A movie where people kiss. And Rin watched that!"
"Uh-huh." Sae muttered, about to fall asleep since it's three am in Spain, that means it's eleven am in Japan.
"Mmh, I made some matcha! You wanna see?" you showed your good-looking glass of iced matcha latte without his response. "Looks pretty good, doesn't it? You should come back and I'll make you the prettiest looking matcha latte!"
To be honest, you aren't sure if he ever listened to your ramblings with that unintereseted expression—he's about to tell you shut up and hang up to get his beauty sleep, you bet. No, you actually know he's about to do that.
"Looks... delicious I guess." Sae sat up from his bed.
"When you come back, we'll watch my favorite episode of chibi maruko-chan. You know which episode I mean? If you don't know I'll be disappointed." you teased him, thinking he wouldn't remember it.
"The episode where Momoko went to the festival with Andrea but got carried away by the crowd and they reached out for their hands." he answered, gulping down the water that flowed into his throat, finally awake. "You say it often."
Correction: you said it twice in your life when you were in middle school.
Wait did he just really gave you the whole summary of your favorite episode? He's surprised himself damn. And he knew himself that he was lying, you didn't mention it often at all.
"W-Wow." you gasped in awe, "Sae, I know you secretly love me."
Maybe he really does. What a damn simp.
"You know what? Come back and we'll actually watch that episode." you grinned.
"Were you joking before?" he deadpanned.
"Of course. Judging by your face, I know you wouldn't even think of coming, you ass."
"Not coming after you said that."
"Asshole, I'll even make you french fries!" you cried out.
"You know it's my least favorite food."
"That's why I'm offering it to you, love of my life."
"I'm hanging up."
"Please don't. I love you so much, pookie wookie dookie—"
He did hang up. What an ass.
If only you knew how red his ears are.
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© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !
a/n's — I like part one more, this kinda crack asf ahahaha... Imagine you're trapped in a bllk otome game and you have to reach an ending with a character to escape, with a few difficulties (ridiculous tasks) though. name's OPERATION: GET OUT on watty, written by NAN0KA, it's great pls check it out (only has prolog out)
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satorusugurugurl · 10 months ago
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,682
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language
A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.
And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.
Life fucking hated you.
Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.
The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!
Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.
Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.
Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.
You could not show up to the wedding alone.
Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?
You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?
Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.
“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.
“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.
Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.
Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.
“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.
Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!
“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.
“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.
You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!
“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.
You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.
“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”
“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”
“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”
“Yes.”
Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.
”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”
”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“
For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.
”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”
“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.
He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?
”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down
”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”
You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.
”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”
“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”
Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.
”Great, lucky me.”
Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”
“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”
“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.
”Well shit, that’s a first!”
”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”
”Nope.”
You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.
”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”
”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”
In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.
It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.
It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.
“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”
Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.
“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”
“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”
“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”
“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”
You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”
“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”
The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.
You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.
You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.
“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”
“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”
“Why did he break up with you?”
“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”
You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.
You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.
”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.
“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”
”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”
”Eh!?”
Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.
The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.
You owed Haibara big time for this.
After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.
“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”
You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.
”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”
“Awesome, thanks a lot.”
As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.
”You seriously think I believe that?”
Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.
“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”
Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.
”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.
”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”
The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.
It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.
“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.
”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.
Oh, he was fucked.
(TBC)
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cheetabites · 9 days ago
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☆彡 pairs of two ; the marble game ˳༄꠶
characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), kang dae ho (player 388) and hwang in ho (player 001 / the frontman)
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˳༄꠶ summary: headcannons about how it would go if you and these characters played the marbles game together
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★ all the prior experience within the games that included some form of group / partnership didn’t necessarily put the amount of psychological pressure on the players as much as this game did; mingle sure did put a number on them, but with the small time frame it was easier to fight for their life and abandon the lives that couldn’t keep up. this game however allowed you to willingly partner up with someone without knowing the rules beforehand, basking within their presence and getting to know each other before ultimately putting you both at the end of each others gun.
park gyeong seok (player 246)
★ being partnered up with him be complicated. there was a small part of him that wanted to lose so you could proceed to the next stage, but there was an even bigger part of him that reminded him that he had a daughter waiting for him back outside of this hellhole. he definitely struggled mentally within the first few minutes of game, not knowing if it would be a good idea to abandon the mutual relationship you’d created together. but in the end his desire to leave and get back to his daughter won over so you both played the game
★ the game you chose to play would be where you would at first prompt the guard that was overseeing the both of you to pick an number between zero and one hundred, and then the both of you had to choose a random number between those two numbers. after announcing both of your answers you’d look towards the guard that was monitoring the two of you and ask what number they’d chosen, and whatever number was closest would get one of the opposite’s marbles. if after ten rounds of that neither of you had the full twenty marbles, you’d play one round of rock, paper, scissors and whoever won got all of their partners marbles - leaving them as the winner
★ gyeong seok would end up as the loser, but before the guard could escort you away you instead traded all the marbles to him. even though you desperately wanted to return home, there was not much you could leave behind besides materialistic things if you’d died; but gyeong seok had a daughter. a daughter who he was fighting so hard for. you respected his devotion for her and how he was even trying to protect you by not admitting he wanted to be the one who got out of here. and in the end, player 246 passed this round and made it one step closer to going home - but lost some part of himself when he heard the gunshot round off in the background
kang dae ho (player 388)
★ dae ho hated this game as soon as he heard the rules echo from the dusty old speakers. as the clock finally began ticking he spent the first ten minutes denying the ultimate fate one of you would have to face, pacing back and forth as you watched him carefully
★ the both of you didn’t engage in playing for either of your marbles; you’d both already made the decision of who was going to win - although you weren’t too pleased, you knew you couldn’t fight him when he was so determined. dae ho was ready to sacrifice himself for you. he wouldn’t be able to continue on if you were the one to die so he just handed his marbles over then and there - spending the rest of the remaining time just talking about your lives and what your ambitions and dreams for the future were
★ when the timer ran out you’d stopped the guard from taking you away and locked eyes with him just before he was shot dead; he looked scared, yes. but he still was able to muster out a small smile for you. but when the bullet launched from the gun you couldn’t hold your tears back anymore and proceeded with the guards
hwang in ho (player 001 / the frontman)
★ mr hwang is pulling an oh il-nam in this game. for one, for him to partner up with you you’d have to have some kind of bond. he’s already witnessed countless deaths and has played with countless lives that pairing up with a random player wouldn’t be any fun. he definitely likes the dramatics of it, and has to play it off as if he’s heartbroken that one of you’d have to die. in the end though, he ends up sparing you and sacrificing ‘his life’
★ YOU don’t end seeing him again, but he has all cameras on you babes. if you win, call yourself seong gi-hun cause he gonna be stalking your ass. just make sure you don’t wanna play hero or you’re gonna end up right back in those games. just think of your momentary situationship / lover as dead and spend your money on a trip to ireland or something and drink some margaritas
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the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!
© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 3 2025.
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wintrwinchestr · 8 months ago
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an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+
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summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.
warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)
word count: 4.3k
a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.
divider by @saradika
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“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?
Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.
The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.
When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.
As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.
Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.
“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.
When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.
Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.
He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.
“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.
“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”
Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.
And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.
“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.
He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.
“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.
“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 
He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”
“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”
He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.
You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”
He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 
“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”
The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.
“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.
Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 
“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.
“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 
“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”
You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.
“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.
Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”
You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 
“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”
He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”
You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.
There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.
“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.
He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.
“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 
“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 
You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 
“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.
With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.
Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.
“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”
It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.
A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”
You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.
“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”
He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.
You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.
“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.
“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.
“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”
You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 
“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.
“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”
“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”
“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 
You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.
“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.
With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”
You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 
Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.
“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.
So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 
“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.
“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.
“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”
You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.
“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”
“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 
Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.
So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 
Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.
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tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)
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vervainandspritz · 2 months ago
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JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES
Thomas Shelby x Reader
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Request made by @justsumtuffstuff: Could you do a tommy shelby imagine where you secretly have his kid but don’t tell him until one day aunt polly sees you and is like “holy shit” but that’s not the surprise, the surprise is you have twins. Just a lot of angst and fluff pretty please? ((:
This fic will have two parts!
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut
A/N: It's a.. heavy fic, so beware. Interact for more
PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE
~~
The land of Birmingham seemed to never change, not one bit. Ever since the first people settled there, the sky hung over them as if by force, never clear enough to see prospects for the future. Robbing the poor kids of dreams, of the loud thumping in their hearts caused by excitement for the good that never came.
It would seem that God has lost his way to Birmingham, not to mention Small Heath. Dirt, smoke and silence that rang too loud when working men would finish their shifts in factories seeking peace in their homes. After all, the human brain can get used to everything.
What was the difference between going to sleep hungry every night, and the relentless churning in the depths of her stomach that Y/N felt? Pain that never let go, waking up along her side like a loyal husband, never ceasing to accompany her throughout the day. Never loosening the hold on her heart.
Oh, how cruel the fate can be, Y/N thought, looking at the white ceiling of her bedroom. One she slept in for many nights too long, carrying the weight of the curse on her shoulders.
Because she was cursed, that one she was sure. Seeing the man she loved more than anything else in the world, losing himself in the grief after another woman.
Because that was the woman whose name Y/N dared not speak or even think. That's who she was, another woman. Embodiment of pain and betrayal of so many promises, taking away the beautiful, blue gaze Y/N yearned for so badly.
God must have been so cruel, putting her through the uncertainty of ever seeing him again throughout the war, and then taking him away.
Taking him away from Y/N, and letting her watch the process. Letting her see the distance growing, the dilated pupils in his eyes after each doze of opium, fruitlessly trying to numb the pain he carried.
Y/N couldn't help but wake up everyday, wondering how different his grief would be if it was her who died. Would he cry? Would he push the other woman away, like he did her? Sometimes the pain felt like too much to handle, but Y/N would never try to pull the trigger. Subconsciously feeling the weight of shame in her chest if she'd ever somehow found out she was right. That he wouldn't care.
So she lived, losing pieces of her heart day by day, warming his bed whenever he saw it convenient.
Until that one day came, that was. Hearing the... Scary, oh so scary news from her doctor she visited in secret. Putting both of her hands on her still flat stomach, she didn't feel anything physically. Yet it was enough to find the strength, buried so deep in her heart.
The love she felt for her unborn children outweighed the love for him.
The tension in Arrow house felt heavier than usual, as Y/N dragged her heavy suitcase down the stairs before slowly making her way to his office. The pain, longing in her heart slowing her down, extending the seconds into forever.
Y/N took a deep breath as her hand pressed down on the metal handle, the loud click echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Wordlessly she slipped inside, walking up to his desk quietly, letting out a shaky breath when she stopped mere inches away from the wooden furniture. His eyes didn't move from the documents he was reading, an empty gaze fixed on black letters despite knowing she was there. Y/N waited for a second, giving him a chance to look at her. Hoping he would.
But he didn't.
”I'm leaving” she said, loud enough to be heard. Silence followed her words, loud like never before as her heart squeezed in anticipation, silently begging him to stop her. To say something. Several moments passed before he finally did, making her heart stop for a mere second.
”Safe travels, Y/N Y/L/N” He responded in a cold, husky voice and for a moment, Y/N wondered who he was, wearing his face but sounding so different.
But the dust settled, just like the weight of his words as soon as she closed the door behind her back for what she thought would be the last time.
~~
Polly's eyes cut through his skin like a blade, her gaze never changing after that one feral day. The look of contempt and disgrace not even a bit different than one she gave him finding out what happened, back then.
”I was hoping you wouldn't be so stupid” She hissed, leaning forward, reaching for a cigarette with a shaky hand. Her eyes were teary, as she inhaled the smoke. ”When you were younger I saw your mother in your eyes. Now, they're full of greed and foolishness. Just like your father's” She spat out with contempt, raising from the chair. Quickly walking up to his own, she kneeled down for a moment, to meet his gaze.
One so empty, that gave her goosebumps.
”I will never forgive you, and... Neither will you.” She whispered. ”But you will have to live with the choice you made.”
Her words echoed loudly in his head several minutes after Polly left... And they never stopped ringing now, thirty eight months later. Thomas counted, every morning to be sure. After sobering up it was difficult to tell days apart. He rarely slept, fearful of the dreams he had at first.
He saw her, she was so close and yet no matter how fast Tommy ran, he couldn't reach her. Out of his reach no matter how hard he screamed or cried. Looking at him with the burning tears he caused.
It took him three months to sober up, give up on opium and... Feel. Thomas wasn't ready for the hellish pain that dawned on him once the drug wore off. The terrifying longing that dawned on him when he felt the remnants of her perfume on his pillow. The lack of relief he hoped for so badly, throwing away every single Grace's belonging he held onto previously, burning the photos and destroying the items, but it never came.
As time stretched, it became more intense. Thomas carried the pain and guilt wherever he went, finding the smallest bit of relief only in his office, searching for Y/N in every piece of England day by day.
Replaying the ways in which he treated her, internally setting himself on fire and forcing himself to feel every bit of it. Because that's what he deserved, to feel and carry the cross he created with his own hands.
Oh how beautiful the pain was, as he'd lean back in his armchair, closing his eyes and remembering her gaze. Her scent and her laugh, echoing so lively in his mind.
...but none of it worked, no matter how many people searched. How much money he spent on the search. Almost like she disappeared into thin air.
Day by day he was dying a little, bleeding through the wounds he so desperately prevented from healing every single time. Keeping the memory of her alive in his mind, not letting the hope die. Because it was all he had. Glimmer of hope. The leader of Peaky blinders became even worse than before. The pain shaped his mind in unknown ways, as the limitless cruelty became visible to anyone who dared to cross his path. Peaky Blinders were unmatched.
Nobody besides Thomas held onto the hope anymore. Knowing Y/N for so long, John and Artur knew she wouldn't come back. Not if her life depended on it. Polly only prayed for her safety.
...and Y/N? She stopped praying once her children were born. After finding out she'd have twins, she prayed every night for them to be born healthy. It was all that mattered.
Not the fact that she had to be using a fake name after moving to Coventry, mere miles away from Birmingham. But she couldn't afford to move further.
It's been.. so fucking hard. Everything. Y/N spent every night crying, begging any God that would listen to take away the pain in her heart. The pain that her babies only managed to lessen. Working as a waitress on nightshifts after accepting the kindness of her older neighbour. Mrs Wilson offered to take care of her boys while she works to help her make ends meet. Y/N had no idea what she would do without a woman she grew to call her only family.
”It's no problem, honey. They're little angels” She said quietly with a kind smile, taking one of the boys into her arms mere days after they were born.
The pain Y/N felt by having to leave her kids every night was stronger than the physical one. Having to work a demanding job after giving birth to keep the roof over their heads.
She cried, cried so much that eventually tears ran out and all she could do was.. keep trying. The two little people by her side were giving her strength. Light that she couldn't see before them, and only existed because they were here. Keeping her own heart beating.
***
”Are you sure? I can take care of them while you go, honey. You know how much I love them, don't you?” The older lady offered eagerly, caressing Nick's cheek with a smile, and a hint of concern while she glanced at Y/N.
”Thank you, but I will take them. The least I can do is spend time with them throughout the day.” Y/N responded, smiling sadly to her neighbour who just nodded along, understanding the allusion.
Letting out a sigh, she put her hands together.
”Be careful, dear.”
Y/N squeezed her hand lightly before pulling away as she held her son's hand, while carrying the other one on her hip.
”Always”
Travelling via train took no longer than forty minutes, and with each passing mile, Y/N's anxiety grew. She hasn't been in Birmingham for a long time now, not looking back.
Yet, because of her official address being still in the Arrow house, she needed to visit the office to complete documentation for boys. She put it off as long as she could, but it was inevitable now.
Despite the negative emotions, Y/N couldn't felt.. better, having her babies with her. The familiar facial expressions or blue orbs were enough to sometimes bring her to tears, but she couldn't love them more. They were a perfect little copy of the man whose name was engraved on her heart. The older they were, the more similar looking they were and now at dashing two and a half years, both boys were troublemakers.
Slowly making their way through Birmingham, Y/N held one little hand, chatting away with Nick, who was more energised than his brother who slept soundly in his mum's arms.
”...and dat?” He asked, pointing towards the building and glancing curiously at his mama. Y/N smiled at his curiosity, seeing how similar personality wise he was to her.
”that's a house” She replied calmly. The little boy cheered loudly, throwing his arms in the air.
"Yaay! Hooose!” He squealed making her chuckle, not caring about the scolding glances from other passengers.
A couple minutes later the other little one woke up, and started fussing because obviously he also wanted to walk now, while Nick wanted to be carried now. Sighing, Y/N put one of the kids down, and as she managed to pick up little Nick, she gasped loudly seeing her son's legs already in motion as he ran towards the crowd.
”Tommy! Thomas, stop!” She yelled after him, chasing him with Nick on her hip who watched the whole thing with his blue eyes wide open. ”Tommy!” She yelled once again, and he finally turned around, stumbling upon someone.
Y/N closed the distance as fast as she could, grabbing little Tommy and pulling him back to his feet, as she checked for any bruises – found none.
”I'm so sorry, i–” She started out, wanting to apologise to the random passenger, but words died on her tongue as soon as her eyes locked with the familiar brown ones.
”Y/N?” Polly stumbled out in shock.
Fuck
Part two upcoming
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kasagia · 9 months ago
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Right hand II
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~
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You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.
You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.
Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.
And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.
A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.
"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.
"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.
"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.
You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…
However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.
You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.
"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.
You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.
"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…
"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."
"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.
For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.
He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.
"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.
"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.
"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.
You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.
"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.
"So what about this? Are you scared?"
"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.
You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.
"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.
It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.
You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.
"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.
Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.
"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.
"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.
He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.
"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.
"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.
He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:
"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.
"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."
"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.
His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.
"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.
"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.
You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.
"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"
"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.
He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.
You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.
You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.
“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."
"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.
"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.
You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.
"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.
"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.
"If I know them, then yes, why?"
"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.
"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.
"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.
"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.
"Don't we?"
"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.
"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.
He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.
You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.
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You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.
The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...
“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.
As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.
“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.
"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."
"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.
"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.
"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.
Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.
It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.
"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.
He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...
"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"
"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.
"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'
He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before? 
He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.
But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.
"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.
Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.
You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.
Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.
And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.
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"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.
"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.
"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.
"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.
"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."
"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.
"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.
You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.
"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."
"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"
"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.
"What?"
"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."
"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.
"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"
"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.
"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.
No. I was supposed to be your pet.
"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.
"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.
"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.
"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.
You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.
"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...
"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."
"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.
You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.
"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.
"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...
"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."
As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.
You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.
You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.
On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.
What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.
You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.
At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.
"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.
"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.
"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."
This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.
"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.
You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.
He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.
At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.
You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.
"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."
You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.
You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...
You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.
"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.
Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...
He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.
"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.
"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.
"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.
You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.
The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.
"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"
"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.
"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.
"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.
"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.
You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.
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You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.
The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.
As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.
"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.
"The little witch is in trouble…"
"Our master will be very angry with her…"
"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"
They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.
"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.
"The little witch's friend is here…"
"Our master is interrogating her…"
"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."
"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."
"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."
And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.
"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.
You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.
You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.
So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.
You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.
You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.
Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.
"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."
"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.
"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."
"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.
His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.
"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.
Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.
You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.
You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.
You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.
You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..
You were the only one left alive.
From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.
You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.
And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.
You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.
For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.
But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.
You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.
Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...
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Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13
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