#This trope happens a lot though anyways
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I hope the more we learn about the source dragons the more they suck. Like morally
But I mean in the same way FSM sucks. I really really really like it when godlike beings are so detached from the reality they created that they're not INTENTIONALLY doing anything bad or harmful, but they simply don't conceptualize right and wrong the same way mortals do
Like. FSM did not talk much to his kids for literal years after the scroll of forbidden spinjitzu incident. That is a canon thing that happened because he's p much god! He's a shitty parent because he has no point of reference! The concept of parenthood is like not a thing for him in the same way, honestly would not be surprised if his main intention for having Wu and Garm was to have someone protect his realm when he died. That's really bad in hindsight! But he was born and there was immediately a war fought for his favor he does not know anything else because he is not mortal!!
Idk that level of detachment when it comes to godlike beings especially those who are meant to represent the concept of "goodness" and creation and all that is far more interesting to me than when they are objectively good and do only good things
#Does this make sense#I might be insane#This trope happens a lot though anyways#often unintentionally#Because it's near impossible to have consistent conflict in a media where there is a “god” who is objectively good#And never does anything morally grey or even sometimes downright wrong#And still have the story make sense#ninjago#lego ninjago#Also ik FSM is supposed to be like. The balance between creation and destruction#But in terms of the realm of Ninjago he's supposed to be the force of light and good in the world whereas the overlord is the bad one#so
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One of my favorite differences in the DBZ manga that makes Vegebul make More Sense To Me, is that because Vegeta never left Earth, he was living at Capsule Corp for over two years before Bulma got pregnant (assuming Trunks is like 3-6mos old when we see him as a baby), but she said she 'wouldn't live with that jerk' afterward, which implies (to me) that he'd been a chill enough housemate up until the pregnancy, which tracks with his generally private and professional behavior as a Lord in the Freeza Force (in the manga).
I like to think it became a compounding factor in learning that he was slated to be killed in a year, and led to him being uncharacteristically overzealous and performative (and so opposed to Trunks getting close to him) in the android saga as opposed to how strategic and cautious he was with serious threats in the Freeza saga.
I am also always thinking about how Something Happened between him losing to Cell and re-entering the time chamber in the manga, because he was back living at Capsule Corp and staying near Trunks and Bulma when the Cell Games were announced.
#Something was definitely Bulma not getting laid for over a year and Vegeta not getting laid for over 2 because of time chamber shenanigans#You can just taste the Good Shit in the conversation from that first night back 🤌 Anyway#Every day I think about how Freeza assumed Vegeta was always going to be his biggest threat -- not just for his power but for his cunning#Every day I think about how that can still be true and how after the Freeza arc Toei traded that cunning for boisterous arrogance#even though that was literally only happening in the android saga and not NEARLY as much as they wrote it#Vegeta being Quiet and Smart is ALSO a reason Vegebul makes a lot more sense if you've read the manga#He's probably the only one in that group who never needs her to translate science talk and the bar is low but boy can he can hop over it#Thinking about how he sat there and explained the science of the Great Ape transformation to Goku and WHY he could create a false moon#Thinking about how Vegeta knows what to do how to do it AND can explain to someone WHY it works#and knowing Bulma would hear a bad boy fighter talk Science and throw her underwear at him at terminal velocity#Every day I think about how Vegeta is constantly flirting with the trickster trope but you'd never know that from watching the anime#He's so sMART and Goku's so DUMB that's why they're great FOILS TOEI#Like Goku's not Stupid but he IS dumb he is a dumb puppy and we love him#I see a lot of Geets fans say they miss how he was in the Freeza arc but he's like that A LOT in Super (just on the good guy team)#His breakdown is over he knows who he is again he's confident he's whole he's fucking Out Here in Super PLEASE read the manga
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In case it's hard to read/understand: "If I had a nickel for every time I had a story with a blonde girl named after a plant, who has a German father and a French mother but absolutely hates said mom, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice."
weird, extremely-specific tropes in my stories: pt 1
#oc liveblogging#ughhhhhhh i really CANNOT afford to be procrastinating rn but i know this happens when im extremelyyyyyy fucking stressed.#creative/art related classes always get me for this reason bc ill use 'wait but i need to find inspiration!' as an excuse to procrastinate.#fuckkkkkkkkkk. UGH IM NOT EVEN WRITING SOMETHING FROM SCRATCH ITS JUST A FINAL REVISION BUT IM CONVINCED IT SUCKS#the worst part is hkjhkjGHKJ I HAVE TO PRESENT SOME OF THIS SHIT AT AN. INTERNATIONAL FUCKING CONFERENCE GUYS. GUYSYSSSS#anyways this post is sadly not related to that. nothing im presenting is related to my ocs [un]fortunately lmao#ive just been thinking rotating various oc stories around in my head again ourgghhhh.#and i realized this LMAO. i mean maybe technically not 2 separate stories anymore because im recycling a lot from one for the other?#one of these was already established lowkey and the other was something i made for an assignment for a class like 2 years ago#i actually don't know if petunie will be blonde in her final incarnation?? ive always imagined her as silvery blonde ig but idk#if ill keep that. she doesnt have proper colors like colin but at least colin has his design set more straight somewhat.#and all the recent petunie development is lowkey really fucking funny to think abt. i girlbossed with her character development so#hard that she really replaced lucian as a protagonist HAHAJSDHKGJ. ok well not 100% kamille's story is a shoot-off#of lucian's technically? i guess? it started becoming that and now its solidified as that lowkey bc same town same place time period people#but man if im not careful i might accidentally make kamille/petunie's arc THE default one and lucian's main one the offshoot instead#a lot remains to be seen. but also yeah the other one who's story is mostly getting recycled (myrtille) actually ALSO HAD HER MOM#COME FROM THIS SAME FUCKING PLACE BASICALLY. a few decades later but still bruh given developments for lucian's story too its just like#at this point im noticing a pattern man wtf is wrong w/ women who come from this town specifically lol. 😔🥴#this town in general is just fucking cursed though i think ahkjshkg. i mean that jokingly and literally lolololl i gotta. work on it. but y#I HATE IT HERE WHY ARE WEIRD LITTLE FUCKING TOWNS WHERE BAD SHIT HAPPENS ALWAYS A CONSISTENT TROPE IN MY STORIES /silly#I DONT EVEN COME FROM A WEIRD LITTLE TOWN MY HOMETOWN IS LIKE. AVERAGE NORMALISH NOT SUPER LARGE??? IDFK?????#haaaaaaa fuck i need to finish this by the end of TODAY I S2G!!! SO I CAN MOVE ON TO ALL THE OTHER SHIT I OWE FUCKKKK
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<the butterfly perched upon you>
slice of lifey vibes with trueform sukuna! youre like a servant-turned-girlfriend to him and dont mind me making it the clumsy girl trope sorry... lots of falling over and making a fool of yourself oops- mostly lighthearted, eventual romance, fluffy, very minor/implied smut. mentions of cannibalism, murder.
the warning of ooc sukuna goes without saying <3 hope u enjoy nonetheless <3
dividers by @/saradika, @/firefly-graphics and @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
word count; 8.1k
how can someone be this useless?
its not uncommon that you trip over your own feet. the food you try to make always ends up charred and inedible. and anything that wounds up in your hands seem to either break or get misshapen. seriously, uraume considers you an eyesore.
very much like a stressed mother in law, they try to whip you up into shape to best please lord sukuna, but you can't do a thing right. goodness gracious.
there are only a handful of servants here at the lord's estate, mainly due to how he dislikes crowds and has a low tolerance for people in general, and will only accept a few for maintenance of his abode only. and yet, an awfully incapable and bumbling girl like you finds yourself at such a place. uraume wouldn't be surprised if lord sukuna lopped your head off one day, if he managed to catch sight of your silly mistakes.
the servants have very minimal contact with the lord. he's often out tormenting whomever challenges him on the battlefield, and even when he's home, none of you are brave enough to be loitering about in areas where he's currently present. uraume is the only one who usually speaks with him directly.
today, you've been reluctantly given the job of wiping down the floorboards of the engawa before the courtyard. you quite like this, because it's nice and sunny outside, and so you'll get to admire the butterflies while you work.
theres a pretty little pond with koi fish here as well, and you've been permitted to feed them some vegetable and seafood scraps, so you'll be doing that afterwards.
you've run up and down against the wooden flooring a couple of times with a rag, and soon enough, you get catch eye of a bright blue butterfly that flutters around the garden. you stand on the edge of the engawa, absorbed with the view. it's not everyday that you get to be here, after all. allegedly, this is lord sukuna's favourite spot to lounge about when he's home.
you get so distracted that you don't notice the intimidating presence behind you, even though he's a man whose aura bleeds all over the place, wherever he may be. sukuna looms over you and is silent as he ponders taking your head for annoying him by standing about in front of him like an airhead with an incredibly lacking sense of survival.
no, he shouldn't. he'd get more annoyed if your blood spilled over the floorboards, and he'd have to wait until the stench of your blood flees the area. however, before he can say a word of 'get lost', you manage to notice the shadow of the figure behind you.
you turn around and see him close up for the first time. a strange noise escapes your throat. you get so startled, your feet loses its balance, and you go backwards off the edge of the engawa. the dirty rag is thrown up in the air in a frenzy by accident as you try not to fall over.
thud! you're on your back on the garden floor. making haste, you frantically get into the position you were taught to get into by uraume, if you ever happened to come across lord sukuna by any chance. you kneel and lower your head until your forehead hits the ground.
and with such nice comedic timing, the dirty rag you'd thrown into the air falls directly onto the back of your head. you shut your eyes tightly and bite your lip in sheer embarrassment. you then realise that your humiliation is not what's really important right now. you might lose your life here.
perhaps you should apologise? are you even allowed to speak to him? what would you be apologising for, anyway? for breathing in the same direction as him? for not noticing him right away?
when uraume runs into the scene, what they witness is rather... unique. the useless servant girl on her knees and with a dirty rag on her head, trembling frantically. and lord sukuna, who seems to be viewing her with what seems to be mild amusement, and not annoyance.
"sukuna-sama... i apologise for any tardiness displayed by the servant. i didn't realise you would be coming here as soon as you came back."
usually, he enjoys a full meal before going out to the courtyard.
amongst your frantic thoughts, you almost tear up at the sound of that familiar voice. uraume-san! can they save you? i mean, sure, they only care about lord sukuna and him only, but surely they wouldn't want your blood to taint this perfect courtyard, right? especially when it's his favourite view!
"we shall accept any form of punishment you see fit for us."
we!? who's we?! you internally sob.
"it's fine."
a deeper voice responds. it's the first thing he's said since you noticed him.
"you can take her away. i'm going to stay here a while."
you hear the large man sit himself down.
"you. stand up and head back to your quarters."
you get up as quickly as you went down. the rag drops to the floor and you have to bend down to pick it up again with speed. you bow deeply again before following uraume out of the area. you can finally breathe again.
"consider yourself lucky. it seems sukuna-sama is in a pleasant mood today."
you later get scolded by uraume after you tearfully explained how you managed to get dirt all over your back and ended up with rag over your head.
meanwhile back in the courtyard, sukuna replays that scene of you in his head--of you turning around with eyes as wide as saucepans, something about you left an impression on him, and its not just because of way you made an absolute fool of yourself.
later, he comments to uraume about how you seemed a little different than the usual ones they pick to have as servants.
"shall i get rid of her? servants can always be replaced if you desire it, sukuna-sama."
"no, leave her. i was only curious."
uraume is left a little stunned. curious? over a mere servant girl? they are in no place to judge, but goodness, it's a rare thing for lord sukuna to be curious about somebody.
uraume has absolutely no qualms of disposing a person if they end up being no use to the lord. however, they never step out of line and act upon their own judgements alone. if there is someone who has piqued his interest, then uraume shall make sure that nothing interferes with their master's source of entertainment.
it's been a while again since you last saw lord sukuna. and you're quite thankful for it, after that humiliating first impression you gave him.
the days have been somewhat peaceful, with only the occasional grumbling from uraume, upset by your helplessness in preparing and cooking food, as usual. after multiple cuts and burns, they decided that you were not to come even a metre into the kitchen area.
that's fine by you, anyway. cleaning and sweeping while you hum your silly tunes is what you prefer.
night arrives with the moon hanging up brightly, like it always does. you think it's going to be another uneventful closure to the evening, but uraume soon appears at the servant's quarters, looking for you. they look a little uneasy. the very few other female servants whisper amongst themselves.
"sukuna-sama has requested for you. come with me."
oh...
you feeling like crying.
there is nothing that you can do. 'requested' so they may say, but everyone knows rejection means possible death. so you follow uraume outside.
walking with them in the corridor, every step feels like it's bringing you closer to disaster.
"uraume-san... what exactly is sukuna-sama requesting me for...?" you ask cautiously.
"i'm unaware know the details myself. but he's in the middle of a bath. perhaps there's a splatter of blood he can't reach on his back."
yes, but why has he chosen me out of all people?!
but you know better than to question such orders. your hands become clammy with sweat.
you reach the bath area too quickly for your liking, and uraume ushers you inside without further concern for your wellbeing. their only concern is hoping that you don't do anything to displease the lord.
lord sukuna sometimes has a tendency to act upon his own whims, but even uraume was surprised when he suddenly asked for the servant girl he met in the courtyard...
the warmth of the misty steam inside caresses your face gently and also makes your kimono stick to you uncomfortably... making you sweat even more.
lord sukuna is sitting in his oversized, wooden bathtub wordlessly, his back turned to you. splashes of crimson against his skin, just as uraume had said. you take a quiet, deep breath.
kneeling before him as per protocol, you bow your head, despite the floors being soggy with water.
"sukuna-sama. how may i assist you this evening?"
the eyes on the side of his distorted face dart down to look at you.
"it's fairly obvious, isn't it? wash the blood away."
"right away."
you stand up straight, and it was apparently too fast for your poor blood pressure, getting you dizzy momentarily. foolishly so, you still decide to take a few steps with haste on the wet, slippery floor. with a loud yelp, you slip and land on your bottom. you want to scream.
"i-i apologise..." you say tearfully, getting back up.
"...not a dull moment with you, as i figured." he uses a tone of mockery.
there's a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and you're only glad he's amused rather than annoyed at your stupidity. your backside hurts again. it hasn't even been that long since the bruises stopped hurting from the last time you fell over!
you grab a cloth to start scrubbing the man down, holding back your tears. the metallic scent is prominent, and your mind begins to wander about exactly whose blood you were currently wiping away into the bathwater. you try not to think about it too much.
it's not new information that lord sukuna kills mercilessly, and even feasts on humans should he feel like it. you've seen the types of "ingredients" uraume has used in the kitchen at times, and the blood that paints the bottom of the sink. these were all things you needed to get used to seeing and knowing as a servant at this estate.
you keep your face stern as you clean him down delicately, thoroughly. the damp, warm cloth runs along the muscles on his back, neck and shoulders. you squeeze out the blood and dip it back in clean water, before wiping again. he has a delightfully toned body, with many tattoos. and more muscles than you could ever count. you take note of the neck tattoos that resemble the lines on a butterfly's wings. it draws you in, but you have to make sure you don't get too distracted.
you notice there's some blood on his hand as well. you move towards it and clean it down, gentle in the way you go over each finger. you're holding hands with him inevitably as you have to lift it up, and this makes you realise how large this man is. your hand seems almost like a child's in comparison to his. there's something rather exhilarating, yet also terrifying about this size difference.
the hairs on the back of your head rise, for some reason. you notice how his big red eyes are boring into you from the edge of your vision. you feign ignorance and focus on cleaning.
time passes in haste as you finish wiping down the last spot of visible blood from the lord's body.
"all the blood has been cleaned away, sukuna-sama," you tell him.
"is that so?" he asks, looking down at his own body. "but there's a spot left over here," he objects, pointing to the side of his neck, vaguely.
"i- i'm sorry, i must have missed that area. i shall clean it immediately-"
you crane your neck to look towards where he was pointing, your face getting closer to his. the place he mentioned is clean. no blood in sight. you meet his eyes. his lips curl upwards, seemingly pleased.
"finally, you look this way," he says, capturing your gaze.
you freeze on the spot, face heating up.
"your... your neck seems clean... sukuna-sama," you respond quietly, unable to think of anything else to say.
"i was only teasing. was it not apparent?" he smirks at you, and you feel that your heart may burst any second now. from either fear or excitement. or both.
"pardon me. i should have noticed sooner," you say, moving your face away from his.
"...i digress. where's the fun in that? just remain gullible for me."
he flicks your forehead, making you whisper 'ouch!' under your breath.
"understood?"
"yes, my lord."
without further conversation, he stands up to his full height, the water droplets racing down against his skin. you hurriedly grab some towels for him... doing your best to avoid looking at his... ahem. when you hand over the towels, your eyes are shut tight. sukuna gives a deep chuckle.
"silly girl."
since the bath, lord sukuna has developed a tendency to call you over during unpredictable moments, and for unpredictable errands. then, he disappears again for a while. and merely moments before you get too comfortable without his presence around you, he returns to repeat it all over again.
recently, he's taken towards looking for you himself, rather than asking uraume about your whereabouts. it scares the other servants when he barges into their spaces, but he pays them little mind.
this afternoon, he finds you sweeping down the leaves away at the front of the estate, humming to your heart's content.
"i come to check what's making all that noisy ruckus... only to find out that it's you."
your whole body goes stiff at the voice, and you reflexively try to get on your knees, but he stops you.
"keep your head up," he commands you.
"your face is worth gazing at, after all," he adds, albeit under his breath.
the compliment doesn't even register into your head as you immediately stand back up, broom in hand. you thank him for the pardon.
"are you done with the sweeping, yet?" sukuna suddenly asks, looking around with his arms crossed. well-- one pair of them, at least.
"not yet, sukuna-sama. but only a little bit to go," you respond with honesty.
"come to my chambers with a plate of fruits and a knife with you, once you're done. don't take too long."
after that, he promptly takes his leave without further explanation. you stand still for a moment, as you always do. every interaction you have with him leaves you in a bit of a daze. often, you wonder if he's a part of your daydreams.
you shake your head and continue to sweep, silently, this time around. don't take too long, he had ordered.
after you're done with that, you make your way into the kitchen on your tiptoes. you wonder if uraume would believe you, if you were to tell them that you're entering upon sukuna's own request.
but once you make your appearance to the entrance of the kitchen, uraume is already there, ready with a tray with a plate of assorted fruits on it. and a knife sitting next to the plate. the sight of the sharp utensil makes you feel nervous, somewhat.
you take the tray without a word, and head towards the lord's chambers.
three sharp knocks.
"sukuna-sama. i've come with the items you sought for. may i come in?"
"you may."
you slide the door open, and sukuna is there, waiting on the tatami mat while holding a kiseru in his hand. once you enter, he sets it aside after one more puff.
"put it here," he points towards the empty space in front of him.
you place the tray down where he gestured towards, and then sit yourself in front of him. there's a moment of silence as you flicker your gaze from looking at him, to the fruit before you.
"well? what are you waiting for? prepare it for me."
oh, no. you had prayed with every ounce in your body, that he wouldn't request for such a thing, but of course it didn't work. now, you have to display your terrible cutting skills to the very head of this estate.
hands trembling, you reach out for the knife and pick up a peach from the plate. you make a cut towards the seed in the middle. then, you cut diagonally to get one slice out. sukuna opens up his hand, waiting for you to place it in the middle of his palm. you do so, and the piece looks so pathetically tiny that you almost feel ashamed.
"faster," he demands, with a small smile on his face.
you swallow thickly, and try to speed up your cutting. the pieces get more and more jagged and unsightly. but sukuna doesn't display any signs of anger or annoyance.
"such poor knife skills. no wonder uraume left you to do the cleaning only. is that really the best you can do?" he taunts you, laughing through his nose.
"i'm afraid so... i apologise for my lack of skills, sukuna-sama," you confess, trying not to make your lower lip wobble from the anxiety and dejection. did he bring you here just to mock the way you cut fruits?! your brows furrow in determination and you try harder.
after the peaches, you grab a persimmon. they're trickier to prepare, since you have to carefully peel the skin off them as well. you purse your lips.
things go somewhat smoothly at first, but then you start to slip up again. it's slippery, and the blade of the knife slices through your thumb.
"ah-" a small noise leaves your lips and you watch as a drop of your blood runs down your palm. sukuna matches your gaze and narrows his eyes at the same scene.
"such a helpless, troublesome woman."
he grabs your wrist and slowly brings your thumb to his mouth. your eyes widen, and you're speechless as you watch him run his tongue up the trail of your blood and then suck on the small incision on your thumb.
you're like a steaming kettle, with the way your blood rushes through your veins, temperature rising with how flustered you are. sukuna looks at you with your finger still in his mouth.
"su-sukuna-sama... you needn't do such a thing-"
a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his tongue swirl around your wound. he then releases it from his mouth, with a smirk, still holding onto your wrist.
you retract your hand suddenly, due to an indescribable feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. you then begin to fear that snatching your hand away like that might've offended him.
"my apologies, sukuna-sama! if you will excuse me-!"
you stand up and run, and he lets you scurry away, with the same sweet, arrogant grin on his face. down the hallway, he hears you trip over yourself before exiting. it makes him chuckle.
you're a fun way to pass time, when he's not slaughtering millions on the battlefield.
back in your own quarters, you lean yourself against a wall and pant, being out of breath. what had just happened? he... he licked the wound on your finger. and that did something to you. your insides feel all squirmy.
you look down at your thumb, only to realise that the cut has mysteriously disappeared.
after running away from sukuna abruptly like that, you had expected to uraume to chase you up and drag you to him, where you'd be executed for fleeing. but it never happens.
in fact, you haven't seen him again for a while. however this time around, his absence does nothing to keep you relaxed, as you're always on your toes, not knowing when he'd next make an appearance before you. you wonder what he will do to you next, when he does come back sooner or later.
before you can drown in those concerns of yours, uraume sends you outside to hang some laundry out in the sun. some white sheets, freshly washed. you struggle a bit, to carry the large bucket of sheets out to the yard.
the laundry line is a bit high, so you need to grab a small stool as well to successfully get the sheets over it. the wind is gentle, and the sunlight pours endlessly from the skies. truly a perfect day to dry the laundry outside.
the sheets are large, so you find it difficult to squeeze the moisture out by yourself, but you suppose they will eventually dry anyway, thanks to the nice weather. you smile as the cool breeze runs through you, making you feel pleasant.
from afar, sukuna observes this scenic view of you, surrounded by the pure white of the swaying sheets around you, smiling as the wind jostles your hair slightly and the sun accentuates your features rather beautifully.
he walks towards your light.
you're busy trying to hang another sheet on the second line this time. you wish the stool was a tad bit taller. this is rather challenging. even standing on top of it, you need to get on your tippy toes to reach properly. and it doesn't help that the water-weight makes the cloth heavier...
a large hand brushes aside the sheet that covers you from view, startling you. you nearly topple over, but a pair of strong arms catch you, keeping you standing upright.
"how ridiculous. don't you get tired of doing that every time?" he sighs. his second pair of arms are crossed, while the first pair hold you so warmly.
"i'm sorry..." you mumble, staring at him with wide eyes. it's like he appeared out of your thoughts. could this perhaps be a daydream of yours? he fixes your stance so that you can stand on the stool properly again. despite your height boost from this stool, sukuna is still a bit taller than you.
"it feels strange, having you meet me eye-to-eye like this..." sukuna comments, while staring down at you curiously.
and it does feel strange, being almost at his height. how close you feel to him now. maybe this offends him.
"i shall get down immediately," you tell him respectfully, trying to get off the stool. his arms come around again to keep you still.
"ack-!"
"tch. don't overreact. i didn't mean it that way," sukuna mutters, tutting at you.
you stand stiffly with your hands by your sides as he inspects you, anxious yet also excited to find out what his intentions are this time around. every touch he lands on you makes you skin jump, in an intoxicating way.
you focus your vision particularly on the odd looking side of his face. it looks like it has a strange texture. would it still be skin? you want to try and touch it. and... his extra eyes look cute. you gasp at yourself for having such disrespectful thoughts about him. all four of his eyes then focus on your face, as if to notice your gaze, and you feel as though your heart may leap out of your throat. there's a part of sukuna that makes you question whether he can read your mind or not.
"you're curious about this face of mine, are you?" he asks, while smiling.
your jaw hangs open in shock, and you don't know whether to tell him that he's correct or to apologise for your insolence.
"what a strange expression you're making," he chuckles, "so easy to read."
it's not that he can read minds, it's only because you're openly letting yourself known to him, whether you're aware of it or not. transparent, like a perfectly pristine and delicate glass cup. shall he leave his fingerprints on you? shall he leave some cracks in that fragile vessel of yours?
his hands come off your body, and you have to concentrate to keep your balance on the stool, no longer being able to rely on his hold to stand still.
"continue with your duties. i shall call for you later," sukuna states sternly, looking off at the sheets that still wave gently in the wind.
"you didn't squeeze out enough water. it's dripping," he points out the soaking wet ends of the sheets.
you practically jump off of the stool and get to work. in the meantime, the lord has disappeared again. you look into the distance to catch a glimpse of him if you can, but he's nowhere to be seen.
and he never got around to clarifying about what happened to his face. perhaps that's a clear sign to mean that he's not interested in talking about his past.
upon finishing the laundry in completion, you make your way to the kitchen, due to the time being close to serving the lord's evening meal.
the other servants and uraume included, are running around to prepare his dinner to perfection, as usual. for the most part, you're left with nothing to do at these times since none of them trust you with handling the food.
lord sukuna did say he was going to call for you later. you wonder if you'll be able to help bathe him again. or if this time, he'll make you do something different. you're plagued with such daydreams as the servants bustle about behind you.
by the time the busy period finalises, the moon hangs high up amongst the stars, and the darkness of night consumes all. and yet, he still hasn't requested for you at all. you suppose when he said he'd call for you later, he perhaps meant tomorrow or the day after. you never know with the lord. trying to navigate him is like trying to look through the murky depths of the ocean at night.
right when you were about to return to your quarters with everyone else, uraume suddenly approaches you.
"sukuna-sama wishes to see you. make your way to the courtyard now."
your stomach starts stirring once again.
the courtyard is beautiful, even at night. sukuna sits in the now moonlit area, drinking from a sake cup in a languid manner.
it takes courage to speak up behind him.
"did you wish to see me, my lord?"
sukuna turns slightly to the side to look at you, before facing the front again.
"...come. pour me another glass, will you?"
"certainly."
as you pour him more of the crystal clear wine, you have to stay vigilant in order to not accidentally splash any of the expensive liquid outside of the cup from your shaky hands.
tonight, the lord's gaze rests not on you, but on the moon above. you watch along with him. there is nothing but silence in the first few moments you have with him together.
"the moon is beautiful tonight," he finally says, while taking another sip of his sake.
is it normal for one to be envious of the moon? even so, thanks to the moon, you are able to see him bathed in its light, making him look almost ethereal.
"yes it is, sukuna-sama," you agree with him.
there's another momentary silence between the two of you, before you bring up a sudden question.
"...do you enjoy watching the moon often?"
"not often, but at times. it would get boring if i did it everyday."
like almost everything else in life.
"i see. that is most understandable."
the chirping of crickets is audible within the garden, and you pour him another glass of his sake after he finishes his previous cup.
you look up at the black canvas of a sky, littered with specks of white all across it. it's easy to get lost in the sight. and much more comfortable than looking at something like the sun, which could burn the delicate areas of your eyes. you begin to get immersed in the view, and your previous train of thoughts ebb away.
you don't notice the way sukuna has stopped gazing at the sky. he's watching you, instead.
"you must know by now... that i favour you more than the other servants," sukuna brings up carefully.
you stop staring up, and turn around slowly to blink at the man.
"...is- is that true, my lord?" you ask, wondering if he really means that. you don't want to get ahead of yourself.
his brows furrow. how dim-witted can you be?
"perhaps actions will speak better than words."
that phrase alone makes your heart feel like it could leap out of your throat.
"sit closer to me."
you swallow dryly, and shuffle closer to the larger man. he sets his cup down beside him, and brings you even closer to him. his hand holding your waist. sitting with him, hip to hip.
sukuna begins to lean his face down closer to yours. your hands grab your own kimono in tight fists, questioning the reality of this scene, feeling skittish yet also giddy, all at the same time.
"don't run away, this time. i won't allow it."
the way his breath ghosts over the skin of your face, how close his voice is to your ears, sends goosebumps all the way down to your legs. is he going to kiss you? can you handle that?
his lips reach yours, and the softness of them is unreal. this must be a dream. he tastes of the rice wine was sipping on before, and he's doused in the same moonlight as you are, and he's now kissing you. a mere servant.
your ears pound with your own heartbeat, and your hands grip onto your kimono so tightly that it's bound to leave wrinkles behind. they shake slightly. sukuna's large hand comes over one of them, and grabs your wrist delicately.
"relax", he's telling you.
and so, you share your first kiss with him, under the moonlight.
quite a bit of time has passed since that day.
you could say that nothing much has changed - you still have your duties as a servant, and the lord still leaves his home vacant for periods of time.
however, on days when he has returned...
you gently sway your legs that hang off the edge of the engawa, on the very same courtyard as that fateful night. sukuna lays his head on your lap, eyes closed and completely at rest, both sets of his arms relaxed as the breaths he takes are slow.
your hand is unable to stray far from the soft bed of his hair, fingers combing through the peach-coloured strands, nails raking against his scalp with the right amount of strength, the way he loves. he gives the occasional purr when you go over his favourite spots.
it's odd, when merely a few weeks ago, you had trouble initiating these harmless touches without explicitly asking for permission beforehand.
"sukuna-sama, may i touch your hair?"
"would it be alright if i could hold your hand, sukuna-sama?"
"may i press a kiss against your cheek, my lord?"
you giggle to yourself as you remember his response to your endless series of questions and requests.
"tch... quit asking me about every little thing. just do it. i'll let you know if i don't like it."
and from then on, you've been bravely placing your hands on him whenever you wanted. and he hasn't been displeased by you, as of yet.
you freely caress the side of his face that you would describe as... unique. you're always curious about the nature of it, even now. but you don't invasively ask questions. you wonder if you'll ever feel brave enough to, one day.
his larger eyes open up narrowly in an abrupt manner, and they squint at you. it makes you nervous, in the way that heart fluttering way. you never get used to the feeling of being under his intense gaze.
red, with ringed irises. you've started to enjoy this colour more ever since you started to meet his eyes more often. you stare back at him but, oh- he's closed them up again.
your hand continues to softly caress him.
sukuna remains mellow, not really falling asleep, but also not in a state of full alertness. your lap serves as a great pillow.
this continues, until suddenly your touches become slower and more distracted. and he can tell your attention has been divided to something else.
the dismayed lord cracks open one eye to check what might have served as a distraction to you.
a butterfly...?
your eyes follow the pretty blue creature, landing on the flora of the garden, in it's carefree nature. a small smile blooms on your face and your hand's movements dwindle, which should displease him. he could cleave the thing into little bits, and let its remains scatter the lush garden.
but, he doesn't. sukuna lets you indulge in these small moments of joy, simply because he's gotten rather softhearted. he doesn't enjoy seeing you get upset at him. though he has control over you as your lord, his hand can't extend all the way to your heart and mind.
(and may the world burst into flames if you ever end up disliking him.)
he recalls... you were also staring at a butterfly the day he first met you, weren't you? so distracted that you didn't notice his presence. he doesn't understand your affection for such a fragile creature.
but...he supposes that he's the same.
what came over him, that he wound up caring for a silly woman like you?
as if to reaffirm your concept of being 'silly', you suddenly give a small sneeze, facing away from the front. his head gets jostled in your lap, which makes him frown and sigh.
"my apologies, sukuna-sama... perhaps it was due to the pollen from the garden..." you give your excuse sheepishly.
well, no matter. he'll keep you with him for as long as he desires. perhaps he can use your butterfly-infatuation to his advantage.
not long after, once the sun dips over the horizon and the area becomes a little chilly, sukuna decides he wants to take a bath before the day comes to an end. and you'll be coming along, of course.
...by now, you've been with him in the bath area at least a dozen times before.
nevertheless, you never seem to get used to seeing him in his naked glory.
sukuna is sitting in his tub, and you're running a warm, wet cloth over his shoulders, scrubbing lazily. he was already quite clean enough today, in your opinion.
a feeling of deja vu hits when your gaze falls onto the tattoo on the back of his neck. you remember having such a thought before. though it's not the strongest resemblance, you see it regardless.
without much resistance, you give in to the desire, and bring your lips to the area to give him a small kiss. it takes him by slight surprise.
"the tattoo on your neck resembles the lines on a butterfly's wings, sukuna-sama. it looks elegant, and wonderful," you tell him.
...he is not displeased with that comparison, strangely enough.
"is that so? no wonder i've felt your stare on it multiple times before," sukuna responds.
you never realised that he'd caught onto that. were you always staring that prominently? you continue wiping him down with the warm cloth, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden.
sukuna thinks for a moment.
"how about you join me in here, tonight?" he asks, out of the blue.
"p-pardon?!"
"quit acting so timid. go on, get yourself cleaned. i'm waiting."
you feel your face heat up at the thought of being... naked with him. anxiousness starts running through your body. you wonder if he really means it, or if he's trying to fluster you again. your lack of action causes him to raise an eyebrow.
"what, you don't want to?"
"no, no! i do, my lord! i'm just... a bit taken aback."
you spring into action. heart pounding as you shed your clothes. he doesn't turn his head or peek at you from where he sits, but your eyes dart to him to check anyways. you clean and rinse yourself adequately, with shaky hands.
"shall i lend a hand in scrubbing your back?" sukuna suddenly calls out. there is sarcasm in his tone.
"that wouldn't be necessary, my lord... i can do it myself..." you respond bashfully.
you only pray that you don't slip over on the way to the tub.
when you do eventually finish up, you walk carefully towards him. walking past where he sits, you reach the other side of the tub. you avoid his eyes as you enter at a slow pace, arms making an effort to cover your breasts. you're finally seated in the same tub as him. the water is steaming, and it's quite deep. still, you hang on to the edge and keep yourself a little distanced from sukuna.
"aw come on. it was mere moments ago that you kissed the back of my neck. so shy all of a sudden?"
"that- that was a different situation, sukuna-sama..."
"the only difference now is that we're both nude," he shrugs.
"nevermind that...the water looks a little deep for you," he says, almost mockingly so- "come. i'll let you on my lap."
you cannot tell whether he is only teasing, or if he actually wants you on his lap.
"quickly- don't run my patience thin."
you make your way towards him without further hesitation.
sitting on his lap, you find that he's oddly comfortable. an arm of his loops around your waist, holding you tight against him, as if to prevent you from running away.
the lord takes your hand and caresses it between his thick fingers. your back leans against his bare chest and abs as you relax yourself more. you wonder if the mouth on his stomach doesn't feel uncomfortable when you sit against it like this.
sukuna's extra arms begin to get more and more handsy with you. you feel his large palms on your breasts, squeezing the flesh gently. not that you find it unpleasant, but it makes you feel all squirmy and restless and hot. when he touches your chest like that, you can't help but turn your head slightly to give him a needy look. it makes him lean down and kiss you warmly.
his tongue explores your mouth in a thorough manner, encouraging a growing heat inside of you. you start gripping his hand harder, though you doubt he feels a thing from it.
when lord sukuna kisses you, you can't tell whether time is passing too quickly, or too slowly. you lose the ability to think of anything else, other than his soft lips and his rough tongue. and you believe that he's aware of this fact himself. why else could he be smiling against your lips like he is right now?
you don't know how long you'd kissed him for in that bathtub. but by the time you stepped out of it, your hands were wrinkly from the prolonged moisture.
and you came out with... feelings of unsatisfaction. rather than getting a little further than kissing, sukuna had stopped abruptly and told you with a smirk that he was ready to get back to his chambers now.
upon getting dressed again, you linger awkwardly around the man, wanting more but not knowing how to inform him of it. the lord looks at you keenly.
"well? aren't you going back to your chambers?" he asks with a sly undertone.
"...i would like to escort you to your room... my lord," you tell him, averting his gaze.
"oh? i don't recall needing an escort, when my room's right around the corner. but if you insist." you can't see what kind of expression he's wearing right now, but you imagine he's smiling at you teasingly. like he always does.
you trail behind him as he walks over to his chambers.
for sure, it doesn't take long until he reaches his room. sukuna slides open the door and makes his way to his large futon in the middle of the tatami floor. he makes himself comfortable, and lays on his side while you watch him from outside his room.
"you're still here. well? are you planning on tucking me into bed next?" he asks with his usual mockery, chuckling through his nose.
you frown cutely, feeling a deep sense of unfairness in the pit of your stomach.
"i was just about to leave, sukuna-sama," you respond a bit haughtily, getting bold with him.
"is that so. then run along," he ushers you, following that with a big yawn. your frown gets deeper.
you begin to slowly close his door, but then stop when it's only cracked open slightly. you brace yourself for the request you are about to make.
"sukuna-sama... could i sleep beside you, tonight?" you ask meekly.
his lips curl up similarly to that of a cheshire cat. finally, you're getting honest with him. he loves the feeling of having you run about in the palm of his hand.
"i thought you said you were going to leave?"
"please...?" you muster your best puppy eyes.
the lord smirks again, and eventually beckons you in with his index finger. you perk up, and step into his room with excitement, running into his futon like a dog, tail wagging from the happiness of being with its owner.
"you're like a silly mutt. foolish, but cute. i like the way you beg for my affection."
you're not sure on how to feel about being compared to a mutt, but you suppose it's not the worst comparison in the world.
"woof," you say quietly, shuffling closer to him. he laughs deeply at you. from your tight embrace with him, you feel the vibrations from his chuckling against his chest.
...there's always something hot or warm about sukuna.
his whole presence feels like a roaring fire at times, burning with his strength and charisma - the flames and temperature threatening to scald anyone around him.
but,
right here, when you're in his arms, the fire becomes tame. still an unrelenting and strong flame, but something more controlled and comfortable to be around.
you close your eyes with a smile, satisfied with this outcome.
"oi. i don't recall saying you could sleep yet."
that makes your eyes bolt open with confusion. sukuna furrows his brows and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together.
"you're in my futon, and all you can think about is sleeping? i don't know how to feel about that."
"oh... was there something else you wanted from me, sukuna-sama?"
he looks further displeased by your question and suddenly grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. you gasp, surprised by his sudden shift in mood.
"we should continue with where we left off, shouldn't we?"
another hand comes up to hold your neck gently for a moment, before he slides it down slowly to your chest, the warmth from his palm trailing with it, reaching your clothed breasts, making your head spin with arousal.
"were you not anticipating something like this? when you asked to stay the night beside me."
he leans down and presses his lips against the space just below your ear, making you shudder. he likes this reaction, and continues kissing down your neck.
"s-sukuna-sama..."
"what a lewd tone you're using with my name. i hope you're prepared for the consequences of that."
he overtakes your senses with another searing hot kiss. hands clawing away at your kimono. teasing touches to your chest. his flames are threatening to envelop you, producing yet another unique kind of heat.
but you've never welcomed anything else more in your life. you'd gladly burn to ashes if it means being so close to your lord, your light.
...it's safe to say that you woke up the next morning with more bruises and bite marks than the number of fingers you have on your hands. and the lord lays beside your exhausted frame, aimlessly curling a lock of your hair around his finger with a satisfied grin on his face.
during one quiet afternoon, uraume beckons you towards them.
"i've been ordered to dress you lavishly. come with me."
you follow them without question, wondering what the sudden occasion could be. lord sukuna has left for the battlefield once again, so he's been missing for a couple of days. is he due to come back this evening?
such hopes fill your mind.
you stand awkwardly as uraume fits a rather elegant and expensive, but beautiful looking kimono onto you. it feels odd. you could even say you feel a bit guilty; in what world would someone dress a servant so extravagantly? nonetheless, you accept the treatment with silence. you get lost in your own daydreams, while uraume prepares you for whatever's been arranged for you.
by the end of it all, they angle you to face the mirror properly, their hands placed on your shoulders.
"it's complete. feel free to take a look at yourself."
you turn your face to one side, and then the other, all while keeping your eyes on the mirror. you look... stunning.
"th-thank you..." you tell uraume, quite speechless.
"please withhold that gratitude for lord sukuna. he was the one that arranged for this, after all."
you're then told to wait at the courtyard, for the lord's return. tingles of excitement run through your veins, and reaches the tips of your fingers, at having your hopes confirmed. he's due to return tonight.
quite a bit of time passes. yet, no signs of him coming back yet. you swing your legs back and forth languidly over the engawa, looking up at the sky aimlessly. though you shouldn't be doing such a thing when you've been fitted with a lovely kimono, there's no one around to scold or stop you from your usual habits.
you sigh, wondering when he'll be back. your eyes wander around the garden, this time. under the moonlight, there's a singular butterfly that flutters about, appearing in good timing as if to help cure your boredom.
you step out onto the grass and approach it, lending out a finger towards it to see if it decides to land on your hand. it takes a bit of effort, but after some gentle movements and patience, it eventually stops to linger on your index finger for a while. it allows you to admire every ridge, and all the patterns on the wings in better detail. you wonder whether you'll ever get another opportunity to observe a butterfly so closely again in the future.
a few footsteps resound behind you, getting you startled. when your body moves slightly from the scare, the butterfly flees and seemingly disappears out of sight.
yet, right now, you have no room to feel disappointed by a mere butterfly.
sukuna is smirking at you from a distance, looking very pleased with the way you're dressed for him. he steps down and walks into the garden as well, approaching you languidly, one arm concealed under the sleeve of his kimono.
"welcome back, sukuna-sama. i've been awaiting for your return," you greet him, smiling.
"were you now? missed me that bad?" he asks, reaching out to caress your cheek.
"yes, my lord. i missed you so much. not a day goes by where i don't think about you."
"why, how sweet...perhaps you deserve a reward for your honesty."
"a reward...?" your eyes grow wide and you start getting embarrassingly overjoyed at the idea of a reward given to you by the lord himself.
"so eager. you seem like you're truly getting committed to playing the role of a mutt."
you try to change your expression in haste, but you end up looking more bashful than anything. sukuna laughs at another one of your strange expressions.
"i'm only teasing."
he then pulls his arm out of his sleeve, revealing something you never thought you'd see in his hands.
a hairpin... specifically, one with a large blue butterfly on it. embedded with pretty jewels, and shaped to perfection. it would've been something difficult to obtain. for someone who's always busy creating chaos, when would he have had the time to find such a thing amongst everything else?
"i thought you would enjoy having something like this. do you like it?"
"oh... like would be an understatement, sukuna-sama. i adore it. is it really for me?"
"who else could have it? don't ask foolish questions."
it could only ever belong to you.
he places the pin into your hair, graceful and elegant with his hands. it makes you feel overjoyed. heat rises to your cheeks and they hurt from how much you're smiling.
"not bad at all. it was worth obtaining."
your hand rises to where the hairpin is, and you touch it gently, letting your fingertips feel the texture of the pin and it's butterfly pattern.
"am i... am i pretty, my lord?" you ask sheepishly, looking up at him with your doe eyes.
he's smiling at you rather gently, his eyes mirroring your reflection within them as he gazes down at you in silence. his lack of a verbal response almost makes you nervous, however.
sukuna reaches out to hold your hand, and pulls you closer towards him. he's glad that nobody else is around, for he's certain they would've also felt so drawn to you, like he is right now.
he palms your cheek again, before letting his thumb brush over your lips delicately.
you never sever your gaze from him, continuing to await his reply.
"... you're beautiful,"
he finally relents.
sukuna then presses his lips against yours, underneath the moon's blessing. once again, and forevermore.
fin.
Masterlist
#sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#soft sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you
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chill | the threesome series ; skz ; hyunjin/reader/jeongin
masterlist.
threesome series part 4/4. long awaited finale lol.
summary: when a lie about a fake boyfriend spirals out of control, your friends take it upon themselves to help.
pairing: hyunjin/reader/jeongin content info: friends to lovers romcom. fake relationship trope. sharing a bed trope. lots of teasing and bickering and indignant exclamations. some bossy dom!hyunjin and sweet jeongin. reader is described with a bigger chest. kissing w people watching. sex toys, dacryphilia, no mention of protection, threesome, explicit sexual content word count: 8440 words.
enjoy <3
-
Your bottom lip is already wobbling when you click call. You sprawl on your belly, front-down in a frilly pink bed in your childhood bedroom. You are visiting your parents in the countryside, miles away from your apartment in the city and miles away from your best friends.
You are calling them now, desperate for their friendly faces. Your boys are the first ones you call in any crisis. You don’t know what you would do without them. Just the thought has you sniffling despondently.
After a few more rings, Jeongin and Hyunjin answer one right after the other. Your phone is filled with three little squares of faces, theirs smiling and yours utterly miserable.
You look at those smiles and promptly burst into tears.
“Ahh!” Hyunjin wails.
“Ohh, whoa, what!” Jeongin says.
Both of them look concerned, all scrunched up brows and frowning faces. At least you think so. It is hard to see through your tears.
“Baby, baby,” Hyunjin says. At the same time, Jeongin asks, “What’s wrong?”
You cry a few more weepy sobs, then you grab the closest teddy bear and wipe your eyes on it. You sniffle and pout.
Even though you want their comfort, you can’t bring yourself to look at your friends when you admit, “I’ve been lying to my parents for months.”
“What?” Hyunjin asks.
“Huh?” Jeongin says.
You blink away your tears and look at them properly. They are the very picture of concern. They have such striking faces so their emotions are always so plain, their features sharp, with thick dark brows and sloping cheeks and full lips. Jeongin dyed his hair a fairer auburn a while ago, but Hyunjin is dark, both of them so handsome it makes you hiccup on a caught breath.
These thoughts make you feel even more pathetic. Here you are, gawking at your best friends while everything falls apart around you.
You drop your face and cry some more. They watch helplessly through their screens, saying your name and trying to calm you down.
“What happened?” Hyunjin asks when your tears have slowed.
“Remember a few months ago, when I went out with that guy who works at the coffee shop?”
“Yes, I hated him,” Jeongin says in a clipped tone while Hyunjin scoffs.
“Me too,” Hyunjin says. Their sour faces speak volumes.
“What!” This distracts you from yours tears for a moment. “You guys told me you liked him!”
“Yeah, only because you did,” Jeongin says. He is in his bedroom and he flops back on his bed, his mop of hair forming a charming halo around his head. He grins that dimpled, mischievous grin at you. “But now you don’t like him, so we hate him.”
“I always hated him,” Hyunjin says. He is sitting at his desk, lit so prettily by lamplight that it looks like a dreamy filter. He props his face in his hand and pouts dramatically. “You didn’t need him anyway, baby,” he says. “You’ve always got us.”
At the same time Hyunjin says this, Jeongin tucks a hand under his head. He is wearing a sleeveless top and his bicep flexes where his bare arm curves. Between Hyunjin’s pretty face and prettier words, and Jeongin looking like that, it is no wonder how quickly heat rushes to your face.
You bury your face in the blankets and shriek, frustrated with everything in your ridiculous life. They are still looking at you with concern when you surface.
“Sorry,” you say. “The point is, my mom would ask about him. You know what my parents are like and how much they want me to be in a relationship.”
You love your family, you do. You do not regret using visiting your parents. The dinners and tea times and game nights have been a delight. You have been proud to catch them up on your life in the city. You are happy with your life, your education and your job and your friends. Your parents are proud of you.
They just cannot help but poke that one little detail, snagging like a loose thread on a nail and unravelling your careful composition with their obvious judgement.
You are not in a relationship. You have never been in a relationship.
Oh, sure, there have been dates scattered here and there, but nothing serious. You are fine with this but your parents consider this cause for catastrophic levels of concern.
You try to show grace. Your family is only nosy out of misplaced worries, convinced that if you do not have a boyfriend then you must sobbing yourself to sleep every night. Which is not true. Well, sometimes it’s true, especially because your two best friends are the ones making your heart race, but most of the time you just eat cheese toast in bed.
To assuage the worst of their concerns, you maybe exaggerated the truth a teensy tiny bit.
“Well,” you say, “They were so happy that I went on more than one date, so it got them off my case for a while. After we went our separate ways, I sort of just… kept telling them… I was still seeing him…”
“Uh oh,” Jeongin says. Hyunjin grimaces. Yeah, your friends know you well. They have never met your family but they know the stories and they can guess where this is going.
“Yeah, uh oh is right,” you say. “My mom invited me out here for their summer party. They throw one every year to start the season. They invite the whole family and all their friends and their friends’ kids. It’s huge. I wasn’t even thinking when I said I would come because I always do. Only when I agreed did my mom tell me to bring my boyfriend for everyone to meet… at which point I remembered…”
“That you don’t actually have a boyfriend?” Jeongin asks with a quirked eyebrow. Hyunjin laughs, covering his mouth with a quick slap of his hand to hide it.
“Don’t laugh at me!” you say with a miserable whine. “It’s not funny. I messed up and now I don’t know what to tell them!”
“What did you tell them so far?” Jeongin asks while Hyunjin tries to get his face under control.
“I was going to tell them the truth when I got here,” you say. “But then they were so disappointed that my boyfriend wasn’t with me. I couldn’t disappoint them even more by saying he didn’t exist at all in the first place!”
“So you told a bigger lie instead,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head questioningly. “What did you say exactly?”
“I just said he was busy with work,” you say. “And they were really upset about it so I tried to cheer them up. I said he was going to try and make it to the party at least.”
“But he’s not real,” Jeongin says.
“Yes, Jeongin!” you squeal. “That’s the problem! And also—” A flood of tears return, blurring your vision again. “I know it’s so stupid. We’re all grown-ups now. But I was the youngest out of all the kids growing up, so I was always the dumb little tag-along. My mom has told everyone I have a boyfriend coming and if I make up an excuse tomorrow, they’re all gonna see through it. They’ll be nice to my face because we aren’t kids anymore but I already know they’re gonna talk about me and how pathetic I am.” You start crying again, looking around at the bedroom you grew up in, still filled with the books and clothes and toys you left behind after moving. It makes you feel like that little girl again. It only worsens your angst. “Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my life,” you say.
“Aw, no, no, it won’t,” Jeongin says.
“Hey, baby, don’t cry,” Hyunjin also says. They both speak in the sweetest tones imaginable, gazing so lovingly into their cameras it makes you melt.
“You know you’re better than that,” Jeongin says.
“Yeah, who cares what they think?” Hyunjin adds.
“I care,” you say in a small voice, looking away again because you feel so embarrassed. “At least a little bit. I know it’s silly.”
“It’s not,” Hyunjin says. At the same Jeongin says, “It is but it’s fine.” They both scowl at the camera as if frowning at each other. It makes you laugh through your tears. You wipe your eyes on the teddy bear again.
“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” you say. “I just have to face it. It’s my own fault. Maybe if I could just get a boyfriend for real, if I didn’t suck so much—”
“You’re perfect,” they say in unison. It seems to make all three of you look flustered at once.
“Seriously,” Hyunjin says while Jeongin clears his throat. “You’re our girl.”
“Yeah, everyone is else is just stupid,” Jeongin says.
“You only need to listen to us,” Hyunjin says.
“Listen to me, not him,” Jeongin teases. “He’s kinda stupid too.”
“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says in a perfectly catty voice. Jeongin sticks his tongue out.
Their antics make you laugh. You rest your cheek on the teddy bear and kick your legs behind you, smiling into your screen.
“Okay,” you say. “In that case, just distract me until I go to bed. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.”
They both smile at you. They waste no time obliging, launching into stories and playful bickering, making you forget about everyone and everything else. They are your boys. They are all you need.
You go to bed with a smile on your face.
-
That smile is gone the next day. You are a bundle of raw nerves all morning. Despite the food being prepared, you cannot imagine eating, so sick to your stomach with anxiety. Your parents ask about your boyfriend and you answer in vague replies and half-promises. You claim he is still working but you are optimistic. You cry your make-up off only once, which is ten times less than you thought you would.
At least you look pretty. You bought a new dress for the occasion, a pretty floral piece that sweeps the floor with a delicate swish. If you are going to suffer, at least you will suffer beautifully.
You are standing in front of the mirror, practicing lines and excuses and grimacing at all of them. You are interrupted when your mother calls you downstairs, the first of the guests arriving.
Here goes nothing, you think.
You take a deep gulp of air and descend the stairs, plastering a big fake smile on your face as you greet the party guests.
They come in waves. Cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbours, friends. You greet everyone pleasantly. There are so many people and so many conversations that you manage to sink into the background of every discussion, batting queries about your own private life with questions for someone else.
You start to wonder if you worried for nothing, then someone directly asks about your boyfriend. Not just someone, but one of the girls in your age group.
“Your mother didn’t know much, she said you were quite evasive about it!” she says. She is not being unkind because she currently has no reason to believe you are lying. It will be later, when everyone realizes this mystery man is not manifesting, then everyone will start to gossip and draw conclusions. This is just the beginning of a long, agonizing party. “Is he going to be here?” she asks. “I can’t wait to meet him! He’s your first boyfriend, right?”
You love your mom, but she really is such a blabbermouth.
You laugh awkwardly, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress.
“Ha-ha, yeah, I was, um, just waiting for the, uh, right person, you know,” you say.
Someone else opens their mouth to ask more when the doorbell rings.
“Oh, I better get that!” you say and leap out of your seat. You give no one a chance to protest, scampering around bodies to get out of the backyard and into the house. You run past your father who is ambling to the door, telling him you got it. You want to let the guest inside then stand in the front yard to catch your breath. Hopefully, by the time you go back, the conversation will have moved on.
You swing open the door, a polite greeting on your lips. It catches when you see who is standing there.
“Jeongin!” you exclaim.
Your best friend is standing on your porch, grinning that big cheshire cat smile. He is an absurdly sexy vision. Jeongin is a tech guy but he takes modelling gigs on the side, fashion a personal hobby to him. His auburn hair is neatly styled around his face, a slash of colour in an otherwise all-black look. It makes him look long and fit, loose pants and a dress shirt over a sleeveless top, topped with a leather jacket. A silver chain sparkles around his neck.
He swoops in and kisses your cheek, giggling to himself.
“I heard someone needed a boyfriend,” he says.
You laugh a little hysterically, all the joy returning to your body in a rush. You slap your hands on your hot cheeks and look him up-and-down.
“Oh, wow,” you say. “You shouldn’t have. But you look really good.”
Your eyes are on the tip of his black boots. He is looking at you too, his eyebrows lifted as his gaze travels down your body.
“Yeah,” he says on a breath. “You too.”
Flustered, you cover yourself then swat at him. It makes him grin again, cheek dimpled.
“Stop that,” you say. “You’re not allowed to say things like that to me. And I’ve been sweating like a stuck pig under here. I feel like I should do the grown-up thing and come clean and send you away, but I’m not gonna do that. Come on.” You loop your arm with his elbow and drag him through the house to the back yard.
Seconds before joining the party, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Then as your boyfriend, I’m allowed to tell you that you looking really fucking good. Okay?”
You very literally fall into the yard. Fortunately, Jeongin keeps his balance and yanks you upright. You stumble into his open arms, your back plastered to his chest. He is probably smiling that big grin at everyone as he keeps his arms around you.
“Hi,” he finally says and offers a little wave.
“Ahhh!” your mother screams more gleefully than a clown horn. She immediately starts hollering for your father.
“He’s inside getting some food ready, mom,” you say, covering your face in embarrassment as she scuttles up to you.
“My goodness, my goodness,” your mother says, all but throwing you to the side to get to Jeongin. “Oh, I’ve heard so much. No, actually, that’s not true, I haven’t heard anything. Tsk, crazy girl. Always with her secrets. But look at you, oh my, you’re so handsome! Look at those dimples.”
“Mom!” you wail. “Stop pinching his cheeks!”
Someone sitting nearby tugs your skirt. It is the girl from before and she is grinning. He’s hot, she mouths very blatantly, winking at you. You smile an awkward, too-wide grin, still more embarrassed than not. Everyone is chattering, looking at you and Jeongin. A couple others smile and give you a thumbs up. You pretend to be very preoccupied with a speck on your dress, focussed on scratching it off so you do not have to meet any eyes.
In the midst of all the madness, the doorbell rings again. You hear your father inside, shouting that he will get it.
“Oh, hurry up!” your mother shouts. “You have to meet—oh goodness, what is your name?” she asks, even while she has a hand in his hair.
“Ha, ah, Jeongin,” he says, managing to politely extricate himself. He takes her hand and pats it affectionately. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says, then winks at you. Your mother looks at you with a delighted smile. You refrain from smacking your forehead.
At least things can’t get worse, you think, right before things get worse.
Your father steps into the yard, smiling a big smile.
“Ah, my little girl!” he says, waving at you. “Your boyfriend is here! Everybody, this is Hyunjin.”
Your heart was racing with adrenaline a moment ago. Now, it freezes solid. It feels like a cement block dropping right into your gut. You are not sure if the entire party actually goes quiet or if your ears just give up to protect you.
You are helpless, standing stock still as your other best friend steps onto the deck behind your father. Coincidentally and preposterously, he is dressed almost identical to Jeongin, all in black with a black leather jacket. He is wearing sunglasses, though, which he pushes onto the top of his head when he sees Jeongin.
Jeongin stares back at him, then he looks at you. Hyunjin looks at you. Your mother looks at you. Everyone looks at you.
“Um,” you squeak.
Wow, that speck on your dress really is so very interesting. And why is it so hard to swallow? Where is your tongue again? Oh, why did you ever have to tell such a stupid lie, just for a few moments of convenience.
You clear your throat and look up. Your voice comes in a croak when you say, “Hi, Hyunjin.”
“Hyunjin,” your mother says, looking at him. He blinks at her. Jeongin is handsome but Hyunjin is the definitive pretty boy, an artist behind the camera but just as suited to a life in the spotlight. His artistic soul really shines through in every capacity. Even his smile is a work of art, delicate and sweet as he looks at your mother. He would have made a perfect fake boyfriend if you didn’t already have one.
Somehow you went from no boyfriends to two. No, not even, because they are fake. You went from no boyfriends to negative-two boyfriends. That must be a feat.
“Ohhhh,” your mother suddenly interrupts the silence. She starts giggling as she tip-toes to Hyunjin like a panther about to pounce. “I see what’s happening,” she says, looking slyly between the three of you. Then she grabs Hyunjin by the cheeks as well, shaking him around like a baby rattle. “My little girl has TWO handsome boyfriends!” she cries out ecstatically. “Oh, that’s just like her too. You know, she was a late bloomer in every respect, but always caught up and surpassed everyone after the fact. Struggled at school when she was little, then grew up and got herself on the dean’s list at university. You know she didn’t even grow breasts until she was eighteen then ballooned right up, the biggest you’ve seen!”
“Mom!”
Jeongin and Hyunjin look at your chest at the same time. You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, making them both clear their throat and look away.
“Oh, sweetie,” your mother says, finally freeing Hyunjin. He and Jeongin stand together, rubbing their cheeks. They watch as your mother takes your hand. “I understand now why you were to hesitant to give us any details. But it’s a brave new world. There’s all sorts of different loves out there. I’ve been reading books!”
“Exactly,” your father says, joining you in the middle of the party. “We would never judge you for who you love.”
“That’s great,” you say. This conversation would be really sweet if it wasn’t about your negative-two boyfriends and happening in front of fifty people. “Thanks,” you say.
Your father is holding barbeque tongs. He claps them in the air and smiles.
“Great!” he says. “Who’s hungry!”
-
It isn’t until much later that you get a second alone with Hyunjin and Jeongin. It is well after dinner when the sun is starting to set and the party has dispersed to different corners of the yard. Your parents are with some friends, seated around a fire, so you drag your fake boyfriends into the house and upstairs to your bedroom.
You slam the door shut.
“Seriously!” you shriek. “You didn’t think to tell each other you were going to show up to be my fake boyfriend?!”
They both look chagrined, Jeongin with his arms crossed and Hyunjin rocking on the balls of his feet. They look at each other with a grimace, then try to smile at you.
“Don’t give me that look,” you say, then groan, leaning against your closed door. You cover your face with your hands. “This is insane. My life is a joke. Hwang Hyunjin, don’t even think about touching anything.” You point to Hyunjin even though your eyes are covered. You don’t need to see him to know he is reaching for something, always sticking his gossipy nose in places it doesn’t belong. When you drop your hands, you catch him hovering near your head table. He smiles nervously. “Sit down,” you say, unamused.
Jeongin and Hyunjin plop onto the bed at the same time. They look rather ridiculous in the black and leather, contrasted to all the pink and white lace of your old bedroom. Ridiculous, yes, and definitely not stupidly sexy. The contrast between two sexy bad boys and your floral cuteness is absolutely not a turn-on. It’s not. No. No. You refuse.
“Sorry,” Jeongin finally says. “We should have checked first. With you, at least.”
“Yeah, baby, seriously,” Hyunjin says, shaking his head. “I feel really embarrassed. You know we would never want to hurt you, right?”
“You were just crying so much,” Jeongin says.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep at all last night,” Hyunjin says.
They keep speaking in their defense. You start to pout, feeling guilty, because they are so sincere in their apology. It is very obvious they did not do this to embarrass you. The complete opposite. Your friends love you so much and it is obvious in everything they do. From the day you met them, Jeongin and Hyunjin have happily dropped everything to help you with anything. No task has ever been too big or too small. If it’s for you, they will do it. You are the exception to every rule and the first call every time.
They are your boys. You are their girl.
“I’m sorry too,” you say. “In fact, I’m even more sorry. This whole thing is my fault, after all. I should have never lied in the first place.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jeongin says.
“Yeah, we all do stupid things,” Hyunjin says.
“It’s not like you knew it would get this bad,” Jeongin adds.
“I definitely don’t think she predicted this,” Hyunjin quips, looking at him. It makes Jeongin snort and Hyunjin grins.
It makes you laugh as well, though you cover your mouth to hide it.
It’s no good. Once the first giggle escape, they are relentless. The three of you laugh until there are tears in your eyes, doubled over as the silly situation washes over you. When the laughter has somewhat subdued, Hyunjin holds out a hand in offering.
“Come here,” he says.
You take his hand and he tugs you towards them. You find yourself squished between them, framed between their bodies like a little flower. Jeongin puts a hand on your lower back and Hyunjin brushes his knuckles over your cheek. Both touches are innocent but the combination has your face heating.
Not just your face. Heat rushes everywhere, cascading down your chest, swooping in your belly and lower. Your toes even curl.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Hyunjin says. He smiles while holding your gaze. “You know we’ll help you no matter what, okay?”
Jeongin kisses your shoulder and you cannot hide your shiver.
“Okay,” you say in a small voice.
There is a moment of tense silence after this. You look between them and they look at you.
You all jump when there is a knock at your door. Hyunjin falls right off the bed, sprawling in an ungainly clatter of long limbs on the floor. Jeongin scoots to the side, less dramatic but still surprised. You sit straighter. Hyunjin groans and rubs his head.
The door opens and your mother pokes her head inside, smiling.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says. “But sweetie, there will be time to be alone with your boyfriends later, since I assume they’re spending the night. But right now we have company. Come spend time with the guests. Some of the others are using the hot tub and pool. Do you boys need swim trunks? Yes? I’ll go find some, give me a second.”
No one gets an opportunity to even answer. She closes the door and disappears as quickly as she came.
There is another beat of silence, then Jeongin says, “We’re spending the night, I guess?”
“Ow,” Hyunjin says. “I think I bruised my elbow.”
“Oh my god,” you say.
-
You putter around the poolside until the sun fully sets. When it gets dark, the pool lights start to flicker in rainbow patterns so the others gravitate there, splashing through the luminescence.
You and the boys wander to the hot tub while it is empty. Jeongin sinks right in like he does not even feel the heat while Hyunjin has to make a dramatic show about every inch of skin that touches it. You and Jeongin look at each other with matching quirked eyebrows. You smile affectionately.
“What? It’s hot,” Hyunjin says, finally sitting.
“That is how they work,” Jeongin replies.
You giggle but also drop your gaze. Your mother managed to find swim clothes that would mostly fit the boys. Jeongin is shirtless in swim trunks, his wet hair slicked back, that handsome face and all those lean muscles on display. When did he get so damn fit? He was always athletic in a subtle, svelte way, but his arms and back ripple with definition now.
Hyunjin is in a wet suit, one that stops at the knee and elbow. He is more covered but the solid black swimsuit makes him look so long and lean. His hair is also damp. You watch as he rakes his fingers through it, tucking it behind his ears. He really is absurdly good looking.
You blame the heat under your skin on the jets.
“Psst,” Jeongin suddenly whispers. His foot nudges yours under the water. “Is that them?” he whispers.
You try to be subtle, turning your head to see who is there. A few younger people are sitting in some pool chairs under a torch, chatting and occasionally glancing in your direction. It is a few of the people you grew up with, the ones you told the boys about.
You nod at Jeongin, smiling shyly. You look down at your legs through the rippled distortion of water. You are wearing a simple one-piece, just as pink and floral as your dress, still a contrast to your boys.
You look at them in time to catch a mutual nod. You were spread around the hot tub, a reach of space between your bodies, but they slide until they are pressed up on either side of you. You look between them, curling your hands in nervous fists on your chest.
“What is it?” you whisper.
“We’re your boyfriends,” Hyunjin whispers with a smile. “Shouldn’t we sit close to you?”
“Oh,” you squeak. “I suppose that’s true.” You swallow, looking at him then at Jeongin. Your heart is pounding against your hands. The combination of heat and desire is making you more than a little dizzy. “Wh-what else should we be doing?” you ask before thinking twice. Vocalizing your internal thought only intensifies your fantasies, your mind supplying plenty of mental images of what you would be doing in this hot tub if they were really your boyfriends.
Oh, you are definitely getting dizzy, but it is not just the jets.
Hyunjin and Jeongin look at each other, both of them surprised by your forward question. Jeongin laughs because that is his instinct, that dimple never shy. Hyunjin has more of a smirk than a smile. He pokes his tongue into his cheek and lifts his eyebrows when you look at him. It is a teasing expression. It makes you dissolve into nervous giggles, sinking lower into the water.
He grabs you before you can disappear under the surface. And it is a grab. Between Hyunjin and Jeongin, you always suspected Hyunjin would be a gentle lover. He is so gushy and romantic while Jeongin tends be more frank about things. But it is Jeongin who gently strokes a hand down your arm, who laces his fingers with yours and squeezes.
Hyunjin reaches right under the water, stopping your descent with a hand on the back of your neck. Your eyes widen as he yanks you up, not choking but certainly in control. Your mouth falls open with surprise. Much to your embarrassment, you moan before he even kisses you, the sound escaping of its own volition as he tilts his head and leans in.
Oh, his mouth is gentle even if he is not. His hand is on your jaw, firm, holding your face where he wants it, but his lips are so soft and warm. He kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and sighing against your lips. You steal a breath as well, your mouth open against his. That breath catches when Jeongin kisses the nape of your neck, then your shoulder.
They both have big hands, long fingers, slender but strong. You melt between them, all heat and need.
You turn to Jeongin, breathless with desire. His eyes are dark, lids heavy. You have never seen such intensity on his usually smiling face.
You are ready to kiss him when some playful shouts erupt from the audience you forgot about. “Get it girl!” someone shouts.
“Oh my god,” you say. Distracted, you reach behind you, grasping for nothing in particular when you find something, indeed. Jeongin is rock hard in his swim trunks and your hand brushes the very decent length of him.
You snap your hand back to yourself, jaw dropping.
“Why are you hard?” you whisper harshly.
“What do you mean, why am I hard?” he whispers back, just as argumentatively. “We’re all making out in a hot tub. Of course I’m hard.”
“Hyunjin’s not hard!” you hiss.
You look over your shoulder. Hyunjin is staring up into the air at nothing, looking a little too inconspicuous.
“Hyunjin!” you cry.
“What?” he returns, also whispering sharply. “Are you saying you’re not turned on?”
“I—hmmph—you—no!”
“No?” he asks with a sharp tilt of his head.
“So,” Jeongin says, drawing your narrowed gaze back to him. He just smiles at you. “If we put our hands somewhere here,” his fingers skim your upper thigh and you jump, “we wouldn’t find…?”
You sputter helplessly but it does no good; you have no retaliation whatsoever. You look at Hyunjin but he’s no help, just smirking at you. He wiggles his fingers in a little wave and you feel flushed again.
“I’m leaving now,” you say and finally sink under the water while they laugh.
-
You step into your bedroom at the end of a very long day. The guests have all gone home. Your parents, for reasons your mother strangely explained, are staying at the neighbour’s house tonight. You are very aware of the privacy it offers, the air rife with possibility.
Your boys are in your bed, wearing boxers and sleeveless shirts and bickering about the size of the quilt. They stop yanking on the blankets when you appear.
You did not bring much sleepwear. You figured you would wear the old shirts left behind in this room. You have outgrown most of them, but that wasn’t a problem with you were sleeping alone. Now you are wearing old gym shorts that sit very high up your thighs, a little shirt pulled taut across your ample chest, and your friends are staring at you, their previous conversation completely forgotten.
You cross your arms and stomp to the bed, feigning indifference. You crawl over a startled Hyunjin to get to the middle, flopping into the little column of space they left for you.
“Good night,” you say.
Hyunjin turns off the bedside light. The three of you are laying on top of the covers, on your backs, stiff as boards. Your arms are still crossed over your chest in a totally unnatural position. You refuse to look around, counting every little popcorn freckle in the ceiling design.
“You kissed him,” Jeongin says, his voice so loud in the silence.
You feel Hyunjin look over, hear the turn of his head on the pillow. You cast your eyes to either side but do not turn your head. There is already a skip in your heartbeat and you cannot encourage it.
“What?” you ask.
“You kissed him,” Jeongin says. You feel him roll onto his side, facing you. “You didn’t kiss me.”
You brace yourself then turn your head, looking at him with every intention of telling him that you did it in the heat of the moment. But he is gazing you, his head propped up on his arm, that god-forsaken bicep flexed again.
You shake your head and look at the ceiling.
“Yes, I did,” you say. “What should we do about it?”
“Kiss him,” Hyunjin says. You look at him. He is also propped up, leaning back on his elbow. He looks at you with an expression that offers a challenge, asking, Well? What are you waiting for?
“Fine,” you say, then slowly turn to Jeongin. “Only because that’s fair.”
Jeongin does not hesitate. He is not as firm Hyunjin but he does not need to be. Long, steady fingers slide across your shoulder and cup the back of your head. He draws you into him, kissing your cheek before your lips.
You quickly lose yourself. Your eyes close and it feels like taking flight, or maybe falling. Yes, falling helplessly head over heels. You have been for a long time.
You cannot help but make a few wanting sounds. Jeongin’s body is so different to yours, all hard planes and firm muscle against your softer spots. His hand finds your waist and he pulls you even closer, kissing you long and slow like he is pacing himself, like he plans to kiss you for hours.
That hand wanders from your waist, sliding lower until he is cupping your ass. Your breath catches and the kiss breaks. He is quick to dive back in, kissing you deeper the second time, his tongue touching yours.
You grab his arm, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. When he leans in again, Hyunjin reaches out and shoves his shoulder. Jeongin blinks up at him, surprised.
“That was two kisses,” Hyunjin says. “My turn.”
Hyunjin grabs your shoulder and pulls you onto your back. You land with a soft thump, still intoxicated from kissing Jeongin.
You blink up at Hyunjin, your chest heaving with breath as his eyes roam down your body. His fingers follow the same trail, knuckles at your chin then the curve of your chest. You arch your back instinctively. Everything seems to throb when his fingers brush the front of your shorts. It is a momentary touch, then he is cupping your cheek and turning your face and kissing you.
Just last night, you were in this bed alone, fantasizing this very thing. You ended the phone call but you were wide awake, so you put on some music and grabbed your vibrator and lost yourself to the impossible fantasy now entering reality.
In your fantasies, one or both of them was on top of you. But Hyunjin surprises you with the opposite, taking hold of your hips and tugging. You follow his direction clumsily until you are straddling his lap. He is hard between your legs, holding you there against him while he cups the back of your head and kisses you.
You can’t believe you thought Hyunjin was a romantic little angel. He is an absolute demon, rolling his hips under you with the same unhurried pace Jeongin used. You are so wet and turned-on, so delirious with need, for a second it feels like there is nothing between you, just the hard shape of him against your softness. But no, there are thin layers of fabric between you, stretched so tight it is like they are not there.
Jeongin curves his hand over the shape of your ass. Your shorts are riding up from your position. He could get an eye-ful at the right angle.
“You’re so…” he says, but his breath catches like there is no word to do you justice. It makes you look at him, your eyes locking in intensity.
It ends when Hyunjin rolls, laying you onto your back again. Then he sits back, leaving you there in a breathless pant.
“What do you think about?” he asks.
You make a noise back at him. It is supposed to be a question but it comes out garbled. You shake your head, then manage to ask, “Huh? Think about?”
He sits up and reaches into your bedside drawer. You come to coherency when he takes out your vibrator.
“Hyunjin!” You cannot help but scold him. “I told you to stay out of there!”
“You know I like to investigate,” he argues. “I can’t help it.”
“Oh my god,” you say, slapping your forehead. “I swear to god, it’s like being friends with a crow.”
Jeongin sits up too, laughing so much he has to cover his face. He shakes his head as he comes up for a breath, pushing his hair out of his face.
“Stop laughing,” you say, even while a few giggles escape.
Jeongin just grins at you, then he reaches out and touches traces his thumb across your smile.
“Are you going to answer?” Hyunjin asks.
You look at him and snatch the vibrator back, clutching it possessively to your chest.
“That’s none of your business,” you say.
“It could be,” he says, expression getting darker by the second, a playful smile turning to a dirty smirk. He runs his teeth across his bottom lip then bats his eyelashes. “If you think about us,” he finishes.
“I—no—you—”
“It’s fine,” he says. “It’s normal. I think about you.”
“Hyunjin,” you gasp. You go to whack him with the vibrator then remember what it is. You hold it against your chest again, embarrassed. Hot in the face and everywhere else, you sputter more indignantly than you feel, “There’s nothing to think about with me.”
He looks at you like he can’t believe you are serious, his eyes dropping down your body then back up. He laughs, covering a hand over his mouth.
“Last night I thought plenty,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I wondered if you could come so hard it would make you cry. I bet you’d look pretty.”
You swallow hard. Your hands are getting clammy, clutching the toy. You cannot even fake any indignance, so turned on it is making your head spin.
“That’s rude,” you say in a rasping voice, “I was crying and you were—”
“I waited to touch myself, thank you,” he teases.
“Jeongin wouldn’t do that,” you say, looking back at him. He is staring up at the ceiling, blinking too quickly and too innocently. “Jeongin!” you exclaim.
Hyunjin laughs some more, a gleeful little cackle behind his hand. You huff dramatically, trying and failing to frown at them.
“My friends are perverts,” you say.
Hyunjin is reclining in an insouciant slouch. Jeongin is sitting upright behind you. You look between them as they look at each other, seemingly conversing through nothing but a series of blinks. Jeongin smiles first, winking at you when you meet his eye. He is holding your gaze when Hyunjin moves, smooth and quick. They crowd you, one on either side, each with a hand on your thigh.
You make a noise, a surprised little whimper as you spill onto your back. You clutch the toy for dear life as Jeongin strokes your inner thigh and Hyunjin’s long fingers trace your waistband. You gasp when Hyunjin slides right in, under your shorts but over your underwear. You are so turned on that there is no hiding it, the fabric wet under his searching fingers.
“Takes one to know one,” he says with a smile. “Maybe that’s why we’re friends.”
“I don’t think we’re just friends,” Jeongin says while sliding the toy out of your hands. He turns it on and your clit pulses under Hyunjin’s fingers, trained to react to the noise.
Hyunjin laughs, his breath on your neck. He moves his hand while Jeongin presses the toy between your legs, over your shorts and panties but nonetheless immediately effective. You squirm a little. The onslaught of sensation has your thighs twitching to close.
The boys shuffle quickly. You find yourself sitting between Jeongin’s legs, your back against his chest. Hyunjin kneels in front of you, holding your legs open so you cannot escape the toy’s blissful torture. You can feel an orgasm winding up ridiculously fast. You have not had a proper relationship but you have fooled around, but it was never like this. Even by yourself with a toy, an orgasm would take time. You have a breath to realize you are going to come, hard, legs spread for your boys.
It hits you quickly but deeply, rolling vibrations of pleasure that have you rearing up. You start to cry out and Jeongin covers your mouth even though you are alone, catching the sound in his palm. He holds the toy with his other hand, keeping it in place while Hyunjin holds your legs so you feel every tingling second of aftershocks.
When you whine into his palm, Jeongin lets you go and turns off the toy.
The room feels very quiet when the toy stops. You come to reality, remembering you are in your parents’ house in your old bedroom. Your parents might not be home but it still seems wrong to get down and dirty with your old teddy bear staring at you.
Hyunjin follows your line of sight. He grabs the bear and turns it around.
Okay. It’s fine now.
You twist around and grab Jeongin, kissing him roughly. He holds you as desperately, kissing back with the same fervour. Hyunjin gets his hands on your shorts and tugs them down. They are only off one leg, dangling around your knee, when he dives in and starts kissing your pussy through your underwear.
You are still sensitive from your orgasm, moaning into Jeongin’s mouth while Hyunjin torments you with his. When he moves the material out of the way, your legs start shaking again. Jeongin reaches down to touch you too, his fingers brushing Hyunjin’s lips. Hyunjin sucks the taste of you off his fingertips then dives back in.
You are caught by surprise when you come again. Jeongin catches your cry, covering your mouth again as you shake in his arms. A tear spills loose just from the sheer sensation of such rapid orgasms. Your body feels like a live wire, all lightning and electric energy.
Hyunjin kneels upright, looking at the tear running down your face. You whimper into Jeongin’s hand when Hyunjin licks it off your cheek.
“Knew you’d be pretty like that, baby,” he says.
You pry Jeongin’s hand off your mouth. It goes easily. In the end, they follow your lead. You know your boys. They would do anything for you. They would start. They would stop.
You do not want them to stop.
“Fuck me,” you say, so quietly it does not even penetrate the silence. Even so, Hyunjin slides his hand between your legs and slides two fingers right inside you, so easily because you are so wet. Jeongin squeezes your breasts in his hands, over your shirt then tugging the fabric up and over to get his hands on your bare skin.
“What was that?” Hyunjin asks. He brings those wet fingers to his lips and licks your wetness off them.
“F-fuck me,” you say, still a whisper but clearer. “Please.”
“Well,” Jeongin says, kissing your temple. He smiles at Hyunjin. “Since you asked so nicely.”
You all tumble over, laying on your sides. Jeongin is nestled behind you, Hyunjin in front of you. Jeongin lifts your shirt over your head while Hyunjin finally removes everything below your waist. You slip your hand between your thighs while they whip off their shirts and boxers.
Then it feels like their hands are everywhere. Yours too, reaching forward for Hyunjin, reaching back for Jeongin. You hold his hip while he rocks against you, his cock gliding along your backside.
“I’ll go first,” Hyunjin says, manhandling you onto your back then getting up between your legs.
“You kissed her first,” Jeongin argues, shoving him. Hyunjin shoves him back.
“You’re bigger,” Hyunjin says, nodding to his dick. “I’ll get her ready.”
You did not actually get a good look at Hyunjin’s dick before he put it inside you. If Jeongin is bigger, you are almost worried, because Hyunjin is bigger than anything you have had down there. You make a keening, high-pitched noise, mouth open as he presses inside you.
Jeongin lays beside you, reaching down to rub that still-tingling bundle of nerves. It helps, your eyes closing and head falling back. Jeongin kisses the exposed line of your throat while Hyunjin starts moving inside you.
“Ohh—” you say, your hands moving all over his chest. You clutch one shoulder and reach for Jeongin with your other hand. He guides it to his dick, helping you find a rhythm, stroking his length while Hyunjin fucks you.
It goes on for a time, then Jeongin curses, squeezing your hand around him. He nods to Hyunjin.
“Move,” he says. “My turn.”
Hyunjin, panting, pushes some hair off his sweaty forehead. He moves backwards down the bed, stepping right off. You yelp with surprise when he grabs your legs and yanks you down the bed. He grabs your hips and flips you over, then gestures to Jeongin.
“Your turn,” he confirms. They switch places, Jeongin kneeling behind you while Hyunjin kneels in front of you. You get up on your elbows, lifting your hips while Jeongin thrusts in. He wastes no time, evidently already on the brink from your ministrations. It means your gentle lover is suddenly pounding into you, your fingers forming fists in the bedsheets, yanking the covers everywhere as you pant and moan.
“Sooo pretty,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face in both hands. You know what he wants without asking, opening your mouth eagerly. You doubt it is the best head ever, especially considering half your attention is on Jeongin, your body moving where he wills it. But you manage, savouring the moment and already imagining every variation of position for the future.
You look up at Hyunjin, kissing the tip of his dick then saying in a rough voice, “I want both of you one day.”
“Fuck,” Jeongin says and immediately comes, grinding deep inside you. Hyunjin grabs you by the neck and puts you back on his dick, murmuring a string of expletives just as colourful until he comes.
You think it is over when Jeongin pulls out. Cum is dribbling out of your mouth when Hyunjin sits back. He wipes his thumb over your lips, pushing them closed.
“You can swallow,” he says. His touch is a suggestion, not forceful, so you could ignore it. But you gaze up at him and swallow.
And while you are doing that, Jeongin grabs the toy and puts it back between your legs. You almost scream, bucking when it comes to life on your dripping pussy. Hyunjin cups your face in his hands again, stroking your cheeks while you ride the pulsing vibrations. Another couple tears spill and he wipes them away with his thumbs, cooing sweet nothings at you the entire time.
They wring three more orgasms out of you before you basically collapse, exerted and sweating and panting.
“God,” you rasp, laying on your side, still breathing hard. “I’m gonna need to get in shape for this. Two boyfriends is no joke.”
The three of you laugh, then you get to enjoy the spoiled princess treatment that is having one boy to cuddle while the other fetches water and a towel. When you finally get to sleep, it is nestled safely between your boys, murmuring sweet words at each other in sleepy tones until you fall asleep.
-
Your parents return at lunch the next day. While Jeongin helps your father grill and Hyunjin sets the table, you help your mother prepare a side dish. She is practically beaming at you.
“Do I want to know why you slept at the neighbour’s last night?” you ask.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” your mother says. She kisses your forehead. “I heard you on the phone the other night. I know you lied about having a boyfriend.”
“What?!” You look at her with alarm and surprise. “But – but you didn’t say anything! You acted like Jeongin was my boyfriend the second he arrived!”
“Of course!” your mother says. “Look my dear, anyone can find a boyfriend. Walk onto the street and throw a rock, there’s one with his head out the car window like a dog. Easy. Not everyone can find a man who shows up to a party and pretends to be her lover, expecting nothing in return, and doing it just because he loves her. And you found two.”
Your mother wraps you in her arms. You are still surprised but you hug her back.
“I’m sorry I made you feel so pressured,” she says. “I just worried about you all alone in the city, but now I see you’re not alone. But, you know, I am a mother, and I saw how those boys looked at you, so I figured… well…”
“Mom!” you cry, a little mortified she intentionally set you up.
“Did it work?” she asks with an eyebrow wiggle.
You are laughing helplessly, shaking your head, which only makes her laugh.
“I knew it,” she says. “Sometimes fate just needs a hand. Maybe two.”
“We’re not talking about this anymore,” you say, walking away.
“You are glowing this morning. Maybe I should get another man too.”
“Mom, please!”
#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x reader#yang jeongin x reader#jeongin x reader#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#yang jeongin smut#jeongin smut#hyunjin x reader x jeongin#hyunjin x you#jeongin x you#hyunjin x you x jeongin#skz x reader#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader
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Deep Dive (m) | knj
You’ve been searching for gemstones deep on the seabed— having found a broken piece of blue aquamarine. Searching for the missing piece and your new rival, you find it and much more with the blue tailed merman Namjoon while on a quest for crystals.
→ Pairing: namjoon x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au, soulmate!au → Trope: strangers to lovers → Genres: fluff, smut, angst + a very small sprinkle of comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 19.8k → Warnings (general) + triggers: not much, honestly it’s all very very fluffy, lovey dovey and cute (you’ll probably get a cavity). There’s also a lot more lore and worldbuilding in this one compared to the others, as this is the first time we’re properly introduced to the seacity🧜It’s also rather existential and philosophical. → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (please be safe), oral (male and female), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, love making, kissing, breast play (licking, sucking, biting), handjob, fingering, clit play, hair pulling, creampie, very brief cockwarming. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note(1): I really don’t know what happened when writing this one; my fingers totally slipped and most of this is just world building 🫣 At least I had a shit ton of fun writing it! I tried to make the smut a bit different than I normally do, because I just feel like what I write is getting very repetitive… So I tried changing the pace of it a bit, but I don't know if it worked or not. Anyway, I really hope you like this one too, and I managed to finish it before Namjoon’s birthday, which means I’ll release it on that day 🥳 Please do let me know what, and if you liked it, and if you’re excited for the rest of the mermaid stories ✨
[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭
The boat sways gently with the rhythm of the waves, each crest and trough sending a flutter through your stomach, a tantalizing whisper of the adventure awaiting below. The sea has always been your muse, its vast, enigmatic depths a sanctuary where you’ve carved out your own livelihood. As a freelance scuba diver, you descend into the ocean’s embrace, hunting for hidden treasures—crystals and gems, and occasionally, the rarest of finds. These treasures are not just artifacts; they are fragments of the earth’s ancient soul, preserved in the watery depths.
Hae, your best friend and partner in this aquatic quest, stands beside you, her hands steady as she helps you prepare for the dive. She runs a holistic and spiritual webshop called Soulful, a name that seems to capture the essence of her being—a blend of spirituality, sustainability, and an eye for the aesthetically divine. The gems and crystals you unearth find their way into her shop, where they are revered not just for their beauty, but for the energy they carry. The world has turned its gaze towards the mystical these days, and her shop has become a beacon for those seeking solace and healing in the arms of nature.
With your wetsuit snug against your skin, fins secured, and the weight of the oxygen tanks settling on your back, you feel the familiar thrill course through you. Hae hands you your goggles with a smile, and before placing the mouthpiece between your lips, you flash her a grin. “See you soon,” you say, voice laced with excitement. The small tool bag—your fanny pack of excavation tools—rests comfortably at your side, ready to assist in your quest for nature’s buried wonders.
You take a deep breath and plunge into the ocean, the water swallowing you with a resonant splash. As you breach the surface, your arms stretch forward, parting the water with a smooth, practiced motion. The ocean welcomes you, wrapping you in its cool, serene embrace. Here, beneath the waves, you are home, surrounded by the vibrant tapestry of sea life. Jellyfish drift by, their tendrils trailing like delicate threads of silk, while schools of tiny fish scatter at your approach, shimmering in the filtered sunlight that dances through the water. Deeper you dive, into the world where time slows, and the ocean whispers secrets long forgotten by the surface. The seafloor is a hidden gallery of nature’s artistry, where crystals and gems lie in wait, forged over eons by the earth’s elemental forces. Each one tells a story—of undersea volcanoes, tectonic pressures, and the alchemical dance of minerals. Hae often speaks of these gems as if they are living beings, infused with the spirit of the ocean itself, each one a relic of the deep’s quiet, patient creation.
You smile to yourself, recalling her poetic musings, almost as if you were reading straight from her website. But you know the truth behind the beauty—these crystals, formed through evaporation, precipitation, and the intricate dance of minerals, are more than just pretty stones. They are pieces of the earth’s heart, shaped by the hands of time and nature’s immense power. Sodium, magnesium, calcium, potassium—their chemical symphony plays out in each crystal, each gem a unique testament to the forces that birthed it.
To you, they are not just beautiful—they are a testament to the majesty of the natural world, a tangible link to the planet’s deep, unspoken history. Hae’s customers, too, are drawn to this connection, to the knowledge that each crystal was not mined en masse, but discovered and unearthed by your hands alone. This makes each piece not only ethically sourced but also one-of-a-kind, carrying with it a story that can never be replicated. And then, there’s the healing. The myriad of spiritual properties attributed to these gems opens another world entirely, one that you and Hae have only begun to explore. It’s a world where science and spirituality entwine, where the physical and the metaphysical dance in harmony. But for now, as you dive deeper into the ocean’s embrace, you’re content to simply marvel at nature’s handiwork, knowing that whatever treasures you find will carry a piece of this underwater realm back to the surface.
A glint catches your eye in the distance, a shimmer that pulls you deeper into the ocean’s embrace. You’ve lost track of how far you’ve dived—perhaps just a few meters, or maybe more. Time seems to stretch and compress down here, as fluid as the water around you. A quick glance at your watch reveals that only ten minutes have passed, but you know you must be mindful of the oxygen left in your tank. Still, the ocean’s siren call urges you onward, tempting you with secrets yet to be unveiled.
Something blue sparkles ahead, its brilliance cutting through the murky depths, and you find yourself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Your body moves with the fluidity of the water, each motion a dance of instinct and harmony. Down here, you’re not just an explorer—you’re a part of the ocean itself, swaying gently in time with the currents. The source of the light reveals itself as you approach a small rock formation, where gems of varying shades of blue glisten like forgotten stars scattered across the ocean floor. Aquamarine, calcite, and amazonite—Hae’s voice echoes in your mind, recalling the knowledge she’s shared with you. Aquamarine, the “Sea Water Stone,” born from the cooling magma of the earth’s depths, its color an echo of the ocean’s own hues. It’s a stone that calms the mind, eases stress, and sharpens communication, a talisman of courage and clarity. Blue calcite, a crystal forged from calcium, carbon, and oxygen, soothes like a lullaby, its gentle presence calming nerves and quieting anxieties. It also opens the mind’s eye, enhancing intuition and inner vision. And then there’s amazonite, a gem you’ve always favored. Its cool blue-green tones speak to your soul, a “Stone of Courage” that promotes truth, honor, and positive communication. It balances the masculine and feminine energies within, weaving harmony into the fabric of life. You reach out, your fingers brushing the rough texture of the rock, marveling at the beauty before you.
Carefully, you pull out your tools—a smooth flat file and a soft silicone hammer—and begin to work. The gems yield to your skillful hands, and soon, you’ve gathered a small collection of aquamarine, blue calcite, and amazonite, each piece a perfect reflection of the ocean’s quiet majesty. You tuck them safely into your bag, their weight a comforting presence at your side.
But the ocean isn’t done with you yet. You swim further, your eyes scanning the seabed where kelp and other sea plants sway like ethereal dancers. A small cave catches your attention, its entrance barely large enough to accommodate you, but you’re compelled to explore. You squeeze through the narrow opening, and the sight that greets you steals your breath away.
Before you lies a treasure trove of green crystals, their surfaces shimmering like serpent scales. Serpentine—Hae has spoken of this gem, formed deep within the Earth’s mantle by the transformation of silicate minerals through water. This is your first time finding it, and you can’t help but marvel at its beauty, the green hues reminiscent of a forest hidden beneath the waves. You run your fingers over the rough surface, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within the stone. Carefully, you chip away a few pieces, their weight adding to the growing collection in your bag.
But the bag is heavy now, laden with the ocean’s gifts, and a glance at your watch tells you it’s time to return. With a reluctant sigh, you leave the cave behind, swimming back toward the surface, your heart still lingering in the depths. As you break through the water, the sunlight dazzles your eyes, and Hae is there, her hands reaching out to help you back onto the boat. The weight of your gear is a burden you’re glad to shed, and you push the bag toward her, eager to share your discoveries.
“Wow!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder as she sifts through the gems. “You really found a lot—and serpentine? You’ve never found that before. My customers are going to be over the moon!”
Her excitement is infectious, and you can’t help but smile. “That makes it all worth it,” you say, pulling off your hydro fin shoes with a satisfied sigh. “But I’m keeping one piece of serpentine for myself—it’s too beautiful to part with.”
Hae nods, still mesmerized by the treasures you’ve brought to the surface. The joy in her eyes is a reflection of your own, and you feel a deep contentment settle over you. The ocean has shared its secrets with you once again, and as you breathe in the fresh air, you know that the bond you share with the sea is stronger than ever.
You sail home under the setting sun, the ocean’s breeze carrying with it the scent of salt and adventure. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the boat lulls you into a state of serene satisfaction. Back on land, you join Hae in her cozy apartment, where the warmth of the evening light filters through the windows. Her small photo studio, a creative sanctuary tucked into a corner, is ready for the treasures you’ve unearthed. Together, you arrange the crystals with care, each one glistening like a piece of the ocean’s soul captured in stone. The camera clicks, preserving the gems’ beauty for the world to see, as Hae’s artistic eye transforms them into visions of wonder. The process is swift but meaningful, a quiet ritual that binds your shared passions. Soon, the crystals will grace her webshop, ready to bring a touch of the sea’s magic to those who seek it.
“This collection is huge, Namjoon,” Hoseok remarks with a warm smile, his gaze sweeping over the shimmering array of gems that adorn the older merman’s room. “There’s so much history embedded in these walls,” he adds, pointing to the meticulously arranged stones, and Namjoon feels a flush of pride rise to his cheeks. He’s poured countless hours into curating this collection, each gem—some calcite, larimar, jasper, peridotite, amazonite, and serpentine—bearing the weight of time and the ocean’s secrets.
Yoongi casts a sidelong glance at Namjoon and his prized collection, murmuring with a wry grin, “It’s impressive... but also incredibly dorky.”
Hoseok bursts into laughter, his joy so radiant that for a moment, Namjoon thinks they don’t need the sun in their underwater world—Hoseok’s light is enough to illuminate the depths.
“I’m not a dork,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms over his bare torso in an attempt to feign indignation, but his stern expression does little to sway the younger mermen. Their laughter echoes through the water, a melody of friendship that only strengthens the bond between them.
“Nerd, then,” Hoseok offers through another burst of laughter, his voice rippling through the water like bubbles rising to the surface. Yoongi, ever the skeptic, merely rolls his eyes, already weary of the conversation. Namjoon can sense that Yoongi’s thoughts have drifted elsewhere—likely back to his bed, where he longs to sleep away the rest of the day. But Namjoon’s heart beats with a different rhythm, one that craves adventure. He usually embarks on treasure swims with his friend Soo-ah, but she’s preoccupied with her fiancé, Seokjin, as they prepare for their upcoming wedding.
Namjoon casts a glance at his friends, hoping they’ll soon take their leave so he can slip away into the inviting embrace of the sea. The room feels too small for his restless spirit, and the ocean beyond the walls calls to him like a siren’s song. He had initially invited them over for their monthly book club, but the gathering has devolved into something else entirely—Hoseok couldn’t stop laughing at the protagonist’s ridiculous misadventures, and Yoongi, true to form, had forgotten to read the book altogether. The story, plucked from the land above, strikes Hoseok as particularly odd and amusing, especially since he’s never set foot on land himself.
“Book club’s over, right?” Yoongi asks with a resigned sigh, his voice heavy with fatigue, as if the very mention of reading has drained him further.
“Yeah, but do try to read the next book for next month,” Namjoon chides gently, though he knows his words will likely fall on deaf ears. Yoongi merely shrugs, not even bothering to pick up the worn book as he drifts toward the door. Namjoon watches them go, rolling his eyes as Hoseok flashes him a soft smile and a thumbs-up before they swim off to their respective homes.
As their laughter fades into the distance, Namjoon finally feels the freedom to pursue the adventure that has been stirring within him all day. The sea awaits, vast and full of mysteries, and he is eager to explore its depths once more.
Namjoon exhales a deep sigh, the weight of his thoughts momentarily heavy, but he renews his energy by nibbling on some fresh kelp. The taste is crisp and briny, filling him with the vitality he needs for the journey ahead. With a determined glint in his eye, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and sets off on his adventure. The sea has always been his home, its vast expanse a comforting embrace. His parents, both scholars dedicated to preserving the rich history of their underwater city, have instilled in him a love for the past. But while they focus on teaching the young minds of the city, Namjoon’s heart has always been drawn to the secrets hidden within the earth—gems and stones that hold their own silent histories.
He propels himself forward, his baby blue tail cutting through the water with graceful precision. As he gathers speed, the fish scatter in a dazzling display, their scales catching the light as they dart away. The underwater world rushes past in a vibrant blur of color, until something shimmering in the distance catches his eye.
Ahead, perched on a rock formation, are gleaming clusters of calcite and aquamarine, their surfaces dancing with the light that filters through the water. The sun’s rays, fractured by the waves above, cast a spectrum of blues across the gems, making them shimmer like the sky at twilight. Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat, as it always does when faced with such natural beauty. Each gem is a masterpiece of time and pressure, a testament to the earth’s patient artistry. He reaches out, reverently running his fingers over the cool, smooth surfaces, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within them.
He pulls out his tools, careful not to disturb the surrounding environment, and begins to collect a few of the precious stones. As he works, he remembers Soo-ah and selects a particularly radiant piece to bring back to her, a token of their shared love for the ocean’s treasures.
But his heart skips a beat when he notices something unsettling—many of the gems have already been harvested, leaving only a few scattered remnants behind. A frown creases his brow as he wonders who could have beaten him to this spot. None of his friends share his passion for collecting gems. Sure, Taehyung enjoys gathering trinkets and curiosities, but stones have never been his interest. The thought of another collector in these waters feels strangely alien, a mystery that tugs at the edges of his mind.
Who else, he wonders, could be drawn to these underwater treasures with the same fervor that drives him?
You find yourself submerged once more, the embrace of the ocean welcoming you into its depths as you embark on yet another treasure hunt, eager to unearth new crystals. Your path leads you back to the familiar cave where you previously discovered the serpentine and calcite, their beauty still vivid in your memory. Yet, something feels different this time—there are fewer crystals adorning the rock formation and scattered across the seabed. The ocean’s depths, a canvas for nature’s exquisite artistry, have always been a sanctuary for the many fascinating crystals that dwell there. But you’ve never encountered another diver who collects them as passionately as you do. The realization leaves you momentarily puzzled, until a flicker of purple catches your eye in the distance.
Intrigued, you glide through the water with graceful urgency, approaching the new discovery. As you draw closer, you recognize the delicate gray and rose-hued crystals as lepidolite, known for its ability to enhance astral travel and lucid dreaming. You’ve rarely come across these gems in your dives, and even now, only a few precious stones cling to the rock formation. Carefully, you retrieve your tools and begin to collect the lepidolite, tucking each piece into your bag with a sense of reverence.
Continuing along the seabed, you pass by schools of vibrant fish, their colors a blur of life around you, until something extraordinary catches your attention—massive aquamarine crystals, far larger than any you’ve ever seen before. They seem to pulse with a quiet energy, drawing you in with their mesmerizing blue hue. As you approach with a gentle hand, you feel an inexplicable connection to the gems, as if they are whispering tales of the ocean’s mysteries and the magnificence of the world beneath the waves.
Gingerly, you touch the aquamarines, and a surge of calm washes over you, a tranquility deeper than anything you’ve ever experienced. The sensation is strange, yet profoundly soothing, as if the ocean itself is sharing its serenity with you.
Taking your time, you inspect the crystals, standing tall on a rocky pedestal surrounded by pink sea bushes and kelp that sways in the water’s current. A few curious fish glide by as you carefully chip away at the base of the crystal, hoping to extract a substantial piece. When you finally succeed, you notice something peculiar—the crystal’s twin, the piece that once stood beside it, is missing. The jagged edge where it was removed is unmistakable. The question lingers in your mind, unsettling and persistent: Who has taken the other piece?
As you wonder who else might be drawn to the allure of these hidden gems, your hands continue their careful work, collecting a few more of the larger pieces, along with several smaller ones. You know that the smaller stones, though modest in size, still carry the same potent energy as their grander counterparts, and some people cherish them all the more for their delicate beauty. Each crystal, whether large or small, holds within it the ocean’s quiet wisdom, waiting to be shared.
Gently, you tuck the treasures into your bag, the weight of them a comforting reminder of the sea’s generosity. With a final, lingering glance at the shimmering aquamarines, you propel yourself upward, your body moving effortlessly through the water’s embrace. As you break through the surface, the world above greets you with a rush of air and sunlight. Hae is there, her arms open wide, her smile as warm as the sun. She helps you back into the boat, her touch gentle and reassuring, as if she understands the wonders you’ve just encountered below.
Once you’re back in the boat, the weight of your gear feels heavier than ever as you remove it, but your heart is light with the excitement of your discoveries. You eagerly reveal your treasures to Hae, each crystal glinting in the sunlight as you lay them before her. With a grin, you hold up the largest aquamarine, its cool blue depths mirroring the ocean below. “This one’s mine,” you declare, the gem feeling like a piece of the sea itself in your hand. But then your tone grows more serious as you add, “I think there’s another diver out there collecting gems. So many were missing from the formation.”
Hae’s eyes widen, her smile fading into a look of concern. You can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, already strategizing, perhaps even considering whether it’s time to move to a new, more secluded spot. The thought of competition makes her uneasy, her gaze drifting over the precious stones as if they might vanish any moment.
Sensing her anxiety, you place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” you say with quiet confidence. “I’ll dig around, find out who it is. We’ve come too far to let this unsettle us.” Your words are meant to calm her, to remind her that together, you’ve weathered challenges before. After all, her webshop, with its unique blend of spirituality and sustainability, has always stood out in a sea of imitators.
Hae exhales softly, her tension easing as she meets your gaze. “Okay, thank you,” she murmurs, her hands gently gathering the remaining crystals, leaving you with your cherished aquamarine. The stone gleams in your palm, a symbol of the bond between you and the sea, and now, a silent vow to protect what you’ve both worked so hard to build.
The pull of the ocean is undeniable, a quiet voice in the depths of your soul that beckons you toward the gem, as if it carries the very essence of the sea within its crystalline heart. You know instantly that this piece belongs by your side, a reminder of the ocean’s mysteries and your bond with its vast, hidden world. The sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the water as you sail back to shore, the quiet lapping of waves a soothing lullaby.
Returning to your apartment, you flick on the light, the familiar space bathed in a soft glow as you carefully place your ocean gift on the nightstand beside your bed. The gem catches the light, its surface shimmering like the sea at dawn. With a contented sigh, you brush your teeth, the routine grounding you after the day’s adventure. But as you lay in bed, your mind drifts back to the ocean, and sleep comes quickly, filled with dreams of underwater realms and the treasures that lie beneath.
Yet, even in sleep, a question nags at you. For days, the mystery has lingered in your thoughts—who could be venturing into the depths to collect gems alongside you? Your research has led you nowhere, each inquiry a dead end. No diver you know is as daring, or perhaps as mad, as you, willing to plunge into the ocean’s deepest reaches. The puzzle gnaws at you, an itch you can’t quite scratch, and the frustration builds like a storm on the horizon. It feels as if the answer is just out of reach, hidden beneath the waves, and the more you dwell on it, the more it drives you to the edge of your patience, a riddle you are desperate to unravel.
Driven by a spark of determination, you’ve hatched a bold plan—to dive back into the depths and catch the mysterious intruder who’s been claiming your precious gems. Hae thinks it’s a dumb idea, but she indulges you, knowing your spirit is as restless as the ocean itself. And so, once again, you find yourself out on the boat, with Hae in the vast expanse of the ocean under the midday sun. The boat sways gently, a rhythmic dance on the water’s surface as you methodically pull on your gear—your oxygen tanks, goggles, and hydro fins. The final touch is your backpack, securely fastened to the tank, ready to hold whatever treasures you might uncover.
With purpose in your heart and a steely resolve, you press your arms together and plunge into the ocean’s embrace. The world above fades away as you descend into the deep, your body slicing through the water with graceful determination. Thoughts of the smaller boats you saw earlier linger in your mind, fueling your hope that this dive will lead you to your elusive rival.
As you dive deeper, the current cradles you, guiding your body as you sway with the ocean’s rhythm, until you reach the seabed. The familiar terrain unfolds before you, a place you’ve visited many times, yet now it feels different, touched by the presence of another. Only a few small gems remain, their glint a reminder of what’s been taken. You scan your surroundings—kelp sways like dancers in the current, fish dart about in a symphony of colors—but no sign of competition yet.
Undeterred, you press on, swimming further along the seabed, following the contours of rocky formations. Your heart quickens as you reach a familiar spot, the place where you once unearthed a magnificent aquamarine. But as you approach, your breath catches—the rock’s surface is nearly barren, the aquamarine all but vanished, save for a few remaining shards that catch the light. Your fingers hover over the stone, tracing the empty space where the gems once gleamed, now a haunting reminder of what’s been lost to unseen hands.
A sudden jolt, like a spark of electricity, tingles through your fingertips, and before you can react, a blur of blue fills your vision, distorting the world around you. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the haze, but it remains—an ethereal presence in the water. Then, you feel a light, almost playful poke against your cheek, and a startled scream escapes into your mouthpiece, sending a cascade of bubbles spiraling upwards.
Instinctively, you jerk backward, heart pounding, as you struggle to comprehend what’s before you. No—this can’t be real. It’s not another diver. It’s not even human.
In front of you, suspended in the water like a living dream, is a merman. His face, heart-shaped and adorned with eyes like dragon-like darkened amber, is framed by short, blue hair that floats gently around his soft cheeks, jawline and pointed chin. Thin soft eyebrows arch over those wide, curious eyes—eyes that seem to hold all the wonder of the deep. His lips, thick and juicy are slightly parted in a soft ‘o,’ convey a mix of curiosity and surprise. Your gaze travels over his tall frame down to his bare chest, lean and strong, and then to the tail—an iridescent baby blue, shimmering with every subtle movement, a perfect extension of the ocean’s beauty.
A wiggling tail instead of legs.
You blink again, desperate to make sense of the vision before you. A merman… It has to be.
He drifts closer, his tail flicking gracefully as he reaches out to poke your chin once more, his voice resonating through the water with an almost melodic quality. “Are you human?” he asks, his tone gentle yet filled with the wonder of a child discovering something new.
Your mind races, and you nod frantically, unable to speak with the mouthpiece still in your mouth, your feet paddling in the water as you fight to steady yourself. The reality of the moment crashes over you like a wave—this is no fantasy. A merman is right in front of you.
As your gaze falls on the backpack strapped to his shoulders, you notice a subtle shimmer, a gleam of something precious. In that instant, the pieces fall into place—he’s the one. He’s the mysterious collector, your unexpected rival in this underwater hunt for gems.
“I’ve seen humans before,” he continues, his voice carrying an almost casual tone as he swims around you, studying you like a creature from another world, “but I’ve never seen one dressed like you.”
Your heart aches to respond, to ask a million questions, but with the mouthpiece in place, all you can do is let him circle you, his eyes filled with an innocent fascination. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words, each glance exchanged like a whispered secret between the ocean and the sun.
As you take in the sight before you, your eyes are drawn to a necklace resting against his chest, the small piece of aquamarine nestled between the firm contours of his titties—chest, you mean chest! The gem, cradled in the hollow where his muscles meet, glimmers softly, almost as if it’s alive with the very essence of the sea. You can’t help but stare in awe, the allure of it tugging at something deep within you. Thank heavens for your goggles, masking the blush that would otherwise give away your wandering thoughts.
“You look funny,” he remarks, his voice laced with innocent curiosity as he reaches out to grab one of your hydro fin shoes. The unexpected touch throws you off balance, and for a moment, you find yourself flipping weightlessly in the water, your body twisting like a leaf caught in a gentle current.
“Is this supposed to be like a mermaid’s tail?” he asks, holding your foot aloft as though it were some ancient relic to be deciphered. His brow furrows in concentration, and you can’t help but feel a mix of amusement and bewilderment at the sight.
Instinctively, you jerk your foot back, breaking free from his grasp, and you push against the water with frantic kicks, a glance at your watch reminding you that time is running out. As much as you wish to linger here, captivated by the merman’s presence, the pressing need to return to the surface propels you upward.
“Hey! Where’re you going?” he calls after you, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation, but you’re already too focused on reaching the surface to notice the distress in his expression. The thought of what could happen if you don’t make it in time isn’t one you’re willing to entertain.
Breaking through the water’s surface, you take off the mouthpiece and gulp in fresh air, scanning the horizon until you spot your boat, a distant speck where Hae waits, the other vessels having long since disappeared. It seems manageable, this swim back to the boat, as long as you stay above water—your oxygen tank now empty, its weight a reminder of how close you cut it.
But before you can begin the swim, something solid collides with you, stopping you in your tracks. “Ow,” you exclaim, startled as you float backward, only to find yourself face to face with a familiar figure, his blue hair dripping wet above the waves.
“Hi,” the merman says with a smile, his dimples appearing like little pools of light in the sun. The simple word carries a warmth that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re lost in the easy charm of his grin, the ocean around you feeling suddenly smaller, as if it were just the two of you in this vast, endless world.
“Hi,” you greet him with a soft smile, still astonished that he followed you to the surface at all. A swirl of unspoken questions rises in your chest, but they tangle in your throat, leaving you staring at him, wide-eyed and speechless. The world seems to blur, save for the merman before you, his wet blue hair plastered against his forehead, his dragon-like eyes sweeping over you with a curious intensity, as if he’s memorizing every detail.
“What’s all that stuff you’ve got on?” he asks, pointing a slender finger at your goggles and then at the oxygen tanks strapped securely to your back.
“These?” you say, finding your voice as you point to your goggles. “They help me see underwater,” you pause, feeling the weight of the tanks pulling at your shoulders, “And these let me breathe while I dive—they hold the oxygen I need when I’m down there.” You gesture to the tanks behind you, your explanation feeling small in the face of his wide, unblinking curiosity.
He hums thoughtfully, nodding as if piecing together a puzzle. “Makes sense,” he says at last, though his gaze strays past you, catching sight of Hae waving from the boat that rocks gently on the surface, her silhouette framed by the scorching sun.
“I... I have to get back,” you mumble, pointing toward your friend, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. You try to steady your thoughts, but they swirl like the currents beneath the sea, a thousand questions dancing just beneath the surface, questions you don’t quite dare to voice.
“Okay,” he says, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, perhaps. “But before you go…” His voice halts your movements, drawing you back to him like the pull of the tide. You turn toward him again, heart fluttering in the quiet space between you, as if the ocean itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what comes next.
“What’s your name?” His voice is soft, carrying a gentleness that ripples through the water.
“It’s ___,” you reply, offering him a smile that’s both shy and warm.
“That’s pretty,” he says, and when his lips part into a smile, his dimples carve deep into his cheeks, making him almost impossibly cute, but dangerously so.
“I’m Namjoon.”
His name lingers between you like a secret, sweet and mysterious. “Will I see you again?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his brow raised in curious hope.
You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face, the warmth filling your chest. There’s something about him—this enchanting creature of the deep—that makes you feel drawn in, like the tide itself is pulling you closer. You nod, the joy bubbling up inside you as you answer, “See you later, Namjoon.” There’s more than one reason you want to see him again. The unspoken questions whirl in your mind, but there’s also the thrill—because maybe, just maybe, you want to get your hands on the best crystals before he does.
As you turn and swim back toward Hae, your thoughts a mess of wonder and disbelief, a blush warms your cheeks. Did you just make a date with a merman? The thought sends a tingle of excitement through you. But when you glance back to where he was, Namjoon is already gone, having disappeared beneath the shimmering surface, like a dream fading with the dawn.
You finally make it to the boat, the sun still hanging high, bathing everything in golden light. As Hae helps you out of the water and hands you a towel, her eyes are wide with confusion. “Who was that? And how did he just vanish into the water like that, without any diving gear?”
“A merman,” you pant, peeling off your oxygen tanks and goggles. The words slip out of your mouth so naturally, like it’s something you’d say every day. Not the revelation of a magical creature, but a simple truth.
Hae stares at you, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. “I’m sorry, what?”
“A merman,” you repeat, more firmly this time.
“A merman?” she echoes, her voice faint and incredulous, as if the very idea is too fantastical to grasp.
“Yes. A goddamn merman,” you say, grinning wide as you meet her disbelieving gaze. “Scaly tail and all.” And then the absurdity of it all hits you, and before you know it, you’re laughing—a bright, bubbling sound that lifts the tension from your chest.
Hae blinks, her mind racing to catch up with the truth you’ve laid before her. When she finally does, her gaze shifts to the shimmering crystals you’ve collected, and without another word, she turns the boat towards home, lost in thought as the ocean waves lap against the sides. And all you can do is sit there, the excitement of your encounter buzzing through your veins, as you wonder about the next time you’ll meet Namjoon beneath the waves.
The next time you set sail, the open sea stretching endlessly before you, a current of giddy anticipation courses through your veins. Thoughts of the blue-haired merman, Namjoon, fill your mind, sparking excitement deep within your chest. Will he be there today, waiting beneath the waves? You wish you could speak with him underwater, to ask him the thousand questions swirling in your heart, but the surface would have to do for now. You can’t help but smile at the thought of seeing him again.
Hae steers the boat through the shimmering water, the horizon vast and infinite. As you slip on your gear and dive beneath the surface, the ocean’s cool embrace pulls you into its depths. You swim purposefully, eyes scanning the underwater world, searching for both gems and a glimpse of Namjoon.
Suddenly, something blue catches your eye, sparkling in the distance. Your pulse quickens as you think, just for a moment, that it might be him. But as you swim closer, your heart sinks—it’s only a cluster of aquamarine, glittering like pieces of fallen sky. You feel a bit foolish, letting your hopes get the better of you. Shaking off the disappointment, you turn your attention to the task at hand, collecting the gems with careful precision, though your thoughts continue to drift back to the mysterious merman.
You move to a new spot, finding a hidden cave adorned with larimar crystals. The stones are breathtaking—swirls of blue, white, and gray blending like waves crashing upon a shore, smooth and radiant. The sight brings a smile to your face, the beauty of the moment settling into your heart. You gently gather some of the crystals, placing them in your bag with reverence, as if each one carries a secret.
Just as you’re about to leave the cave, a shadow falls across the entrance. Your heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden presence. But then, the familiar voice reaches your ears, warm and apologetic, and you see him—Namjoon, his figure filling the space, his smile soft and full of quiet charm.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand nervously scratching the back of his head, his eyes filled with a gentle sincerity.
Relief washes over you, and with a playful wave of your hands, you signal that it’s okay—that he needn’t worry. How you wish you could speak to him down here, let your words float freely in the water like the bubbles escaping from your gear. But for now, your gestures will have to suffice. Your smile says the rest—you’re just glad to see him again.
“You’re collecting crystals, right?” Namjoon asks, his voice cutting through the liquid silence as he gestures toward your already bulging bag. You nod in response, still catching your breath from the weight of the gems you’ve gathered.
“Do you want me to show you a cave with lepidolite?” he mumbles, his tone casual but a bit uncertain. “They’re pretty rare, but I know of a cave that’s full of them.” For a fleeting moment, you wonder if this is the ocean’s version of Netflix and chill, the awkwardness of the offer landing with the charm of a bad pickup line. You can’t help but smile at the thought.
Still, you nod, knowing that Hae would be thrilled to get her hands on more lepidolite, and besides, you’re curious. You figure underwater Netflix and chill is a bit different from what you’re used to anyway.
Namjoon leads the way, his brilliant blue tail weaving effortlessly through the water, shimmering like sunlight caught in a sapphire. You trail behind him, captivated by the rhythmic sway of his form, the way his muscles ripple across his broad back like waves sculpted by some divine hand. You can’t help but wonder—do they even have gyms down here? The sight of him, so fluid and powerful, is mesmerizing, and before you know it, time seems to slip away, your focus narrowing to the subtle dance of his movements.
“This is the cave,” he suddenly announces, pulling you out of your reverie. You hadn’t realized just how long you’d been swimming, utterly absorbed by the quiet beauty of the journey and him.
You follow him inside, and the sight that greets you takes your breath away—deep violet lepidolite, sparkling in the dim light like stars scattered across a twilight sky. You’re awestruck by the sheer abundance, the rare gems nestled into the cave walls as if nature had painted this secret world just for you.
“Beautiful, right?” Namjoon giggles softly, his voice echoing gently through the cavern as you nod, too taken by the sight to speak. You pull out your tools, carefully beginning to gather the precious stones, all while feeling the warmth of his gaze lingering on you. His silent watchfulness stirs a strange flustered feeling inside, like he’s studying you with the same intensity you’ve used to admire him.
Once your bag is heavy with lepidolite, Namjoon takes you on a quiet tour of other hidden gem spots. Each place he shows you feels like a secret whispered by the ocean itself, and soon your collection grows so large that the weight of it tugs at you, as if the sea itself is trying to pull you back down. When Namjoon offers to carry your bag, you try to refuse at first, clinging to your independence. But as your arms grow heavy, you relent, watching in awe as he effortlessly takes your overloaded bag, slinging it across his broad frame with ease. He carries it as though the weight is nothing, his strength as graceful as the tides themselves.
With a raised arm, you gesture that it’s time to surface—your oxygen running low, the familiar ache of needing air settling into your chest. He seems to understand immediately, and together you ascend, the world around you turning brighter as you rise toward the surface.
Breaking through the water, you gasp in the fresh air, peeling off your goggles and mouthpiece, eager to speak to him in the open air. Namjoon surfaces beside you, droplets clinging to his skin as the sun catches the water in his hair, casting a shimmering halo around his smiling face.
“We should do this again,” he says, his voice warm and full of excitement. “Wasn’t it fun?”
“It really was,” you reply with a smile, your heart still buzzing from the underwater adventure. “Thank you for showing me all those caves. My friend, Hae, is going to be over the moon,” you say, casting a glance toward the boat swaying gently in the distance.
“That’s great to hear,” Namjoon replies, his voice as smooth as the rippling waves.
A flicker of frustration tugs at your chest, and you bite your lip. “I just wish I could talk to you down there,” you admit, your words heavy with a longing that feels both simple and profound.
“It would be nice, yeah,” he muses, his soft smile brightened by the sunlight. “But I don’t mind coming up here to talk. I like the air up here too,” he adds with a gentle chuckle, his gaze warm and steady.
“I have so many questions,” you blurt out, the words escaping you before you can hold them back. There’s too much wonder bottled up inside you, too much curiosity, and it needs to spill over.
Namjoon laughs, a sound so genuine it feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Shoot,” he says, his dimples deepening like two small whirlpools at the corners of his mouth.
You pause, your mind swimming with possibilities, before settling on the most obvious. “Are you the only merman, or… are there more of you?” you ask, your voice tinged with awe.
“There are more,” he says with pride, his chest lifting slightly. “There’s a whole city beneath the sea—Naraeum, where we live.” His eyes gleam with the pride of someone who belongs to something ancient and wondrous.
A thrill runs through you at the revelation. An entire city of merfolk hidden beneath the waves. The thought makes your pulse quicken, the realization that you’ve stumbled upon something so extraordinary, so secret, that few on the surface could even imagine it. You feel as if you’ve been let in on the universe’s greatest mystery, and it fills you with a giddy excitement that hums like electricity in your veins.
“Are there cities or kingdoms beneath the waves? What are they like?” you ask, your voice soft with curiosity, eager to glimpse the world he calls home.
Namjoon’s eyes light up with a quiet pride. “Naraeum is a vast kingdom,” he begins, his words gentle yet full of wonder. “There’s pink coral stretching as far as the eye can see, ancient golden buildings weathered by time, and bright green kelp that sways like dancers in the currents. Dark caves hide beneath the surface, teeming with life—fish, crabs, creatures of every kind. And at night, everything glows with bioluminescent light, turning the ocean into a dreamscape.” A faint blush rises on his cheeks as he adds, “Maybe I can show you one day.”
Your breath catches in your throat, the thought of seeing an underwater kingdom beyond anything you’ve ever imagined. “That sounds unbelievable. I’d love to see Naraeum,” you say, barely able to contain the excitement bubbling within you. The idea of diving so deep, into a world untouched by human hands, feels too surreal to grasp.
“There are other cities too,” Namjoon continues, a smile tugging at his lips. “Some are smaller, some are larger, but Naraeum is like the heart of our region, the capital of sorts,” he adds, the pride in his voice unmistakable.
Your mind whirls with possibilities, questions tumbling out before you can stop them. “Do you have art? Music? Stories? How do you create them underwater?”
Namjoon laughs, a full-bodied sound that echoes across the waves. “We do,” he replies with a sparkle in his eyes. “Human books, for one—we’ve learned to preserve them so they don’t dissolve. Otherwise, we etch our stories on stone, carving our history into the bones of the sea. For music, we use instruments that echo your drums, flutes, and strings, but they’re crafted from merfolk hair, delicate yet strong.”
He pauses, a wistful look crossing his face. “Naraeum is ancient, filled with art and stories older than any of us. But,” he adds, adjusting the heavy bag on his back, “I fear I don’t have enough time to share them all right now. This bag,” he says with a light grin, “is starting to weigh me down.”
“Oh right, the bag!” you exclaim, snapping back to reality as a wave of panic ripples through you. You mentally scold yourself for letting the moment sweep you away, your feet kicking gently against the water as you make your way toward the boat. Namjoon swims by your side, effortlessly graceful, his shimmering tail flickering beneath the surface.
Hae is there, waiting with a patient smile, and as she pulls you aboard, you reach out to take the heavy bag from Namjoon’s hands. “Thank you so much,” you say, a warm smile spreading across your face despite the unspoken whirlpool of questions still swirling in your mind. You wish you could ask him everything, but those wonders will have to wait.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Namjoon replies, his voice soft like the lull of the ocean. His own smile is tender, a quiet acknowledgment that leaves you feeling light despite the weight of the bag.
Hae chimes in with a grin, “So, you’re the famous merman,” she teases, still a little wide-eyed as Namjoon flashes his bright blue tail above the surface, the sight leaving her speechless. The tail vanishes just as quickly, a flicker of the magic below.
“I’ll have to go now,” Namjoon says, his voice carrying a gentle farewell as he begins to swim backward, his gaze lingering on yours. “But I’ll see you again soon, ___.”
A blush creeps up your cheeks, and despite yourself, you smile and wave, heart fluttering in a way that’s both exhilarating and unsettling. You watch him dip beneath the waves, his form disappearing into the deep blue, leaving the water still and the air quiet.
Hae turns to you with a knowing look. “You’ve got a crush on the merman, don’t you?”
You can’t deny the warmth spreading through you, but you push the thought aside, the reality of it sinking in. He’s a merman. You’re human. It feels impossible, like something from a dream. But maybe—just maybe—being friends isn’t out of reach. Friends, you think, as if convincing yourself. That can’t hurt... right?
In the following weeks, you find yourself swept into a world beyond imagination—each adventure with Namjoon feels like diving into a storybook of magic and wonder. He takes you to hidden underwater realms where gems glimmer like stars, and schools of fish, dolphins, and whales glide by as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s as though the ocean has opened up just for you, revealing its secrets with every dive. The more time you spend with him, the stronger your heart tugs, pulling you deeper into your feelings. You try, futilely, to convince yourself you’re just friends, but every shared laugh, every meaningful glance, makes that harder to believe.
Namjoon is an incredible friend, one who listens to your ramblings with genuine interest. His conversation is as vast and deep as the ocean itself, leading you into existential tangents that leave you pondering life and its mysteries long after the talks are over. You wish for more—there’s an ache that grows inside you—but how could that even be possible? He’s a merman, you’re human. It feels like some impossible fairy tale. Yet, you’ve caught him stealing glances, his cheeks tinged with blush, and sometimes he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter in ways you can’t ignore. But does that mean anything? How do merfolk even love? You wonder if their hearts beat the same as yours.
One quiet afternoon, as you sit with the sun lazily dipping below the horizon on the boat, you find yourself asking the question that’s been gnawing at your mind. “Are there any consequences if a merman falls in love with a human?” The words tumble out before you can stop them.
Namjoon, floating beside the boat, nearly chokes on the beer you brought him, his laughter turning into a cough as he searches for air. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, more careful. “There aren’t really... any consequences,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears turning pink. His eyes flicker nervously to your lips, then meet your eyes again, a quiet vulnerability swimming in their depths.
Good to know, you think, your heart skipping a beat. But before the blush overtakes you, you scramble to change the subject, your curiosity pulling you in another direction. “Is there magic in the ocean, like the old legends say? Can you control it?”
He laughs softly, the sound like the ebb and flow of waves. “There is magic, but no, I can’t control it. None of us can. There’s a Sea Witch, though—she’s the only one with that kind of power, as far as I know.” His words are laced with mystery, and your mind spins with possibilities.
“Can merfolk live forever?” you ask, half-dreaming of a life that stretches beyond the boundaries of time.
“Yes and no,” he replies, his voice thoughtful. “We can live for so long it feels like forever, but we’re not truly immortal.” His gaze drifts across the water, as if pondering the weight of time itself.
“Interesting,” you murmur, your thoughts swirling. “What happens when a merperson dies, then? Is there an afterlife?”
Namjoon’s smile is wistful as he explains, “When a merperson dies, we hold a celebration—a spiritual send-off, really. There’s singing, dancing, it’s more of a party than a funeral. We celebrate their journey into the afterlife.” You must look puzzled because he quickly adds, “In the afterlife, we become ghosts. But if friends and family don’t send you off properly, there’s a chance the spirit might come back to haunt them.” He chuckles lightly, and you gasp, wide-eyed at the thought.
A cool breeze dances over the water, and for a moment, the world feels suspended between reality and the dreamlike expanse of the sea. You sit there, awed by the depth of his world, your heart both heavy with questions and light with wonder. And in that moment, despite the impossible distance between your two worlds, something seems to shift—something delicate and unspoken. You don’t know what the future holds, but maybe, just maybe, there’s magic enough to bridge the divide.
He passes the beer back to you, and you take a gentle sip, letting the taste linger without wanting the haze of drunkenness to settle in. Out here, in the middle of the endless ocean, everything feels both vast and intimate. A small taste is enough.
“Do you ever feel lonely in the vastness of the sea?” you ask, a quiet melancholy softening your voice as you gaze out at the seemingly endless horizon. The sea is breathtaking, yes, but the weight of its endlessness stirs something in you—a humbling reminder of how small one can feel in such a world.
“Sometimes,” Namjoon admits, his head dipping as his gaze finds the water. “There are moments when the ocean feels too big, too quiet.” His voice is soft, vulnerable. “But I have good friends,” he continues with a faint smile, “and I have my books when the solitude feels too heavy.” He looks at you with eyes warm and reassuring, as if to say that the sea might be vast, but he’s found beauty in its stillness.
“Oh, what books do you like?” you chuckle lightly, trying to brighten the mood, though his quiet sincerity tugs at your heart.
“Human books,” he replies with a gentle grin. “I love historical tales, but fiction is my favorite—stories that let me dream of other worlds.”
You smile, curiosity dancing on your lips. “What kind of fiction? Should I bring you some next time?” The words tumble out before you can catch them, your eagerness spilling over into the space between you.
A blush blooms across his cheeks, so deep it even colors the tips of his ears. In a shy, almost bashful voice, he says, “I... I like romance.” His admission is soft, as if he’s unsure of how it will land.
You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling with affection. There’s no shame in it, not to you—if anything, it’s endearing. “I have some romance books I can bring next time, if you’d like,” you offer, your voice gentle, feeling the warmth of your words fill the space between you.
Namjoon’s eyes sparkle, a soft wonder lighting them up as his blush deepens. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmurs, his voice as tender as the evening breeze.
The sun has begun to sink lower, casting a golden glow over the water. Namjoon glances at the sky, then back at you with a smile that feels like the closing of a chapter. “It’s getting late. I was thinking... next time, I could show you Naraeum.” His voice is proud, almost glowing with the thought. “If we go at night, the whole kingdom shines,” he adds, a spark of excitement in his eyes as he recalls the bioluminescent beauty he once described to you.
Your heart leaps at the thought. “I’d love that,” you say, feeling the pull of the ocean’s magic once more. “I’ll ask Hae to man the boat, so I’m not alone when it’s time to head back.”
Namjoon nods, his smile softening as the sun dips lower, its light casting golden hues over both the water and his blue hair. “See you soon,” he says, waving as he begins to slip beneath the surface.
You wave back, feeling the warmth of his presence linger, even as you sail toward the shore, the fading sunlight a reminder that the ocean holds many mysteries yet to be uncovered. And with each adventure, your connection to him deepens, like a current pulling you both to something inevitable.
"I’m telling you, you’re totally whipped, man," Yoongi says with a playful eye roll, his voice teasing but laced with truth.
“I’m not,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms defensively, but deep down, he knows resistance is futile. His friends have been relentless, teasing him ever since you entered his life—how his smile stretches wider, brighter, after spending time with you, how your name slips into conversations that have nothing to do with the human world. It’s like you’ve seeped into his very soul. He knows he’s fallen, and fallen hard, but the weight of his feelings confuses him. He has no idea how to navigate them, unsure of your heart, or if you could even feel the same pull toward him. And how could it ever work between you two? The thought of venturing onto land to be with you dances through his mind like a fragile dream, but there’s a storm of questions swirling beneath the surface—questions he’s too afraid to ask, too scared to drown in all the unknowns.
“Just don’t get your heart broken,” Yoongi mutters, his voice softer now, tinged with caution. Namjoon nods, the words settling heavily in his chest like stones sinking to the ocean floor.
“Hey man, don’t throw your past experiences at Joonie like that!” Jimin chimes in, smacking Yoongi’s shoulder, a little too forcefully judging by Yoongi’s wince. “If he’s in love, he should go for it. Take the dive, see where the current leads him,” the blonde merman insists, eyes sparkling with mischief and optimism, trying to fill Namjoon’s heart with hope, pushing away the shadows Yoongi’s cynicism casts.
Namjoon, though, can only sigh. “I just don’t know…,” he mumbles, fingers trailing along the spines of his beloved books, rearranging them in some futile attempt to quiet the storm inside him. Anything to busy himself, anything to keep thoughts of you from consuming him. But it’s hopeless—why does his mind keep drifting back to you, like the tide, relentless and unyielding?
“It will never work,” Yoongi shrugs with a quiet scoff, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s seen too many relationships slip away. His words linger in the air, heavy like the deep sea.
Jimin, unphased, shoots him a scolding glare. “You never know that,” he says firmly. “Just because your love life’s been a shipwreck doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else.” There’s a sharp edge to his words, a flicker of irritation.
“And look at Seokjin and Soo-ah!” Jimin adds, his voice lifting again, the gleam of an idea flickering in his eyes. “Soo-ah was human once too, remember? She turned mermaid for love. Maybe ___ would want to become a mermaid as well? Who knows what fate has in store,” he grins, ever the romantic, eager to plant seeds of possibility in Namjoon’s mind.
Namjoon’s heart stirs at the thought, but even the idea feels like a dream too distant, too fragile to reach. Could you really be part of his world? Could love, like the sea, find a way to bridge the impossible distance between you?
“I would never put that on her. She has a life—one she’s likely content with on land. I couldn’t ask her to leave it behind,” Namjoon says, his voice laced with breathless resignation, as though the weight of his own feelings has left him deflated, crushed beneath the impossibility of it all.
“She’s a good friend. I’ll just... enjoy what we have for now,” he adds softly, placing the book you’d given him gently on his nightstand, his fingers lingering on the cover. He already treasures it, not for the words it contains, but because it came from you. Though he hasn’t yet reached the end, he finds himself lost in the pages, immersed in the tale of a woman struggling with feelings for her best friend—torn between preserving their friendship or risking everything for love. If Namjoon sees a reflection of his own heart in those pages, he’ll never admit it, not even to himself.
“Love sucks anyway,” Yoongi mutters, his voice sharp and bitter, like a wound still raw and bleeding.
“You’re killing the vibe, Yoon,” Jimin sighs, shaking his head as he swims closer to Namjoon, his energy warm and comforting.
“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin adds, draping an arm around Namjoon’s broad shoulders, trying to lift the weight that presses down on his friend. “He’s the last person you want advice from when it comes to love. He’s forgotten what it means to believe in it.” Jimin shoots another glare at Yoongi, who merely shrugs, unmoved.
Namjoon lets out a weary sigh. He likes you—no, more than likes you. Perhaps he’s even in love, but he’s still learning to come to terms with that revelation. What if telling you his feelings drives you away? What if, in confessing his heart, he loses the precious friendship you’ve built together? You, who’ve brought laughter and life into his days. He’s never been close to a human before, not like this, and the thought of losing you weighs heavier than the ocean above him.
It’s not like he hasn’t ventured to land before, tasted fleeting moments with humans—flings that flickered out as quickly as they began. But this, you, feel different. And he’s in deep water now, uncertain of the way forward. It doesn’t matter to him that you’re human. If you were a mermaid, he doubts it would make things easier. What draws him to you isn’t your species, it’s your soul.
It’s the way your hair dances in the wind, or how it clings to your skin when it’s soaked from the sea. The way your cheeks flush red, that soft blush that dusts even the bridge of your nose. The way bubbles rise and swirl around you when you dive beneath the waves, how your lashes flutter like the wings of a butterfly. The way your presence calms the storm inside him, as though you carry the quiet strength of the sea itself.
Yes, Namjoon thinks, his heart heavy with the undeniable truth. He’s got it bad.
“Hae, I don’t know what to do,” you sigh, the weight of indecision pressing down on you as you sit at the coffee shop, staring at the steam rising from your untouched cup. You feel like you could pull your hair out, frustration boiling inside as you wait for the coffee to cool, though it’s really your emotions that need calming.
The midday sunlight filters through the window, casting soft golden light over your table, but you can’t appreciate the warmth. Your mind is too restless. What are you supposed to do with these feelings?
“It’s actually quite simple,” Hae says, her tone far too casual for the magnitude of what you’re feeling. She takes a sip of her coffee—how does she drink it so scalding hot?—and you scoff softly, half out of envy, half in disbelief at how calm she seems. “You just have to talk to him.”
You groan, the sound louder than you intended, pulling curious glances from the tables around you. Embarrassed, you lower your voice, but the frustration lingers, tugging at your insides like a tangled knot.
“It’s not that easy,” you say, pushing your coffee aside. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if I ruin everything between us?” Your voice drops to a whisper as your hands fall to your lap, palms sweaty and clammy. “How would it even work? He’s a merman, Hae. I... I’m just me.”
Hae raises an eyebrow, amused. “Girl—have you seriously not noticed the way he looks at you?”
You blink. “What do you mean? He looks at me... normal.”
She gives you a look that suggests you might be the most oblivious person on the planet. “Nah. He looks at you like he’s ready to drown in your eyes—like you’re his whole world.”
Her words hit you like a sudden wave, stealing your breath for a moment. Could she be right? You’ve never seen Namjoon look at you like that, at least not in a way you could recognize.
“Really?” you whisper, unsure, heart fluttering with both hope and fear.
“Yes,” she emphasizes, laughing a little as she sets her cup down. “You’re kinda stupid for not noticing.”
You finally take a tentative sip of your now-warm coffee, trying to hide the way her words unravel you. As the warmth settles in your chest, your mind starts racing, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Namjoon, all the times he’s looked at you, spoken to you with that gentle smile. Had there been something more in those glances? Had you been too blind to see it?
“You should confess your feelings,” Hae says, matter-of-fact, sipping her coffee like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
But it’s not that simple, not for you. The thought of baring your heart feels like standing at the edge of a precipice, with no way of knowing if there’s solid ground beneath you—or a fall. What if she’s wrong? What if you’re wrong?
You shake your head slowly. “I don’t know if I can. What if I ruin our friendship? What if he doesn’t feel the same?”
Hae gives you a knowing look, but you’re already spiraling, lost in your own thoughts. Maybe... maybe you could watch him a little longer, try to see what she’s seeing, catch more evidence that there’s something there, something more.
Because the risk of losing him over your feelings—that terrifies you more than anything.
It’s a few nights later, and the sea is a blanket of darkness as you and Hae venture out into its endless expanse. The sky above is nearly pitch black, save for the delicate shimmer of stars scattered like diamonds, casting faint light upon the inky water. The moon hangs low, its pale glow mirrored perfectly on the surface, creating a fragile bridge between the heavens and the sea. You pull Hae into a hug, murmuring your gratitude for her being here, for her unwavering companionship on this strange, otherworldly journey. She laughs softly, her voice breaking the silence of the night, and tells you she wouldn’t let you drown—not when she’s here to keep you safe. Her words bring a smile to your face, easing the quiet tension in your chest as you pull on your gear in the dark.
You slip into the water, the sea swallowing you whole. Beneath the surface, it’s as black as ink, the deep blue fading into a near-impenetrable navy that borders on oblivion. But there is no fear, only the pull of the unknown as you dive deeper, surrendering to the quiet pull of the ocean. Your breath is steady, your heartbeat louder in your ears than the sound of the waves above.
And then, there he is—Namjoon, his gentle smile waiting for you like a beacon in the depths, dimples carving softness into the darkness. His presence is steady, grounding, and for a moment, you forget you can’t speak, forgetting that the words you wish to say—I’m glad I’m here, thank you for this—are trapped behind the mask of your breathing gear.
Suddenly, his hand reaches for yours. The touch surprises you at first, a flicker of warmth against the cold of the sea, sending a soft spark up your arm, a silent current that makes your heart stutter. But then you relax into it, realizing how right it feels—his hand in yours, the silent understanding between you. It’s just a hand, you remind yourself, but even the smallest gesture carries weight in the depths of the sea.
“It’s dark,” he gestures to your joined hands, his voice a whisper through the water. “I’ll guide you.” You notice, even in the dim light, how his eyes shift nervously, and if the ocean weren’t so dark, you’d swear there was a blush creeping across his cheeks.
Together, you swim deeper, your hand still clasped in his as the world around you begins to change. In the distance, something gleams—a glint of gold, faint but unmistakable. As you draw closer, it becomes more defined, taking shape as towering structures rise from the seafloor like monuments from another world. Tall, ancient buildings glitter beneath the water, their surfaces gleaming with gold, adorned in intricate lettering and symbols you can’t begin to decipher. The curves and arches remind you of something familiar, some echo of human architecture, though far grander and more ancient than anything you’ve ever seen. These aren’t just buildings—they’re castles, palaces from a forgotten fairy tale. Everything is bathed in the ethereal glow of bioluminescent light, soft blues and yellows emanating from plants that pulse like stars, making the entire city shimmer as if alive with magic. It’s breathtaking—otherworldly in its beauty—and you feel your breath catch in your throat, mesmerized by the impossible splendor before you.
How many wonders exist beneath the surface, hidden from the world above? you think, the weight of it all is almost too much to grasp. That such a place could exist, a vast city of gold and light, thriving in the deep—how could you have never known?
“Welcome to Naraeum,” Namjoon says, his voice soft, gesturing toward the city center that teems with life. Merpeople of all shapes, colors, and ages drift through the streets, some lost in their own rhythms, others laughing and chatting, and children darting through the water in playful games. The whole scene is alive, vibrant, and full of warmth, and the sight of it fills you with something indescribable—joy, wonder, perhaps even belonging.
A smile spreads across your face, unbidden, as the reality of this magical place settles over you. For the first time, you feel like you’ve truly discovered something beyond the world you’ve known, something boundless and beautiful. And with Namjoon beside you, it feels like you’ve only just begun to understand its depths.
“This is the city hall,” Namjoon gestures toward the tallest of the castles, its golden spires reaching upward like fingers trying to touch the ocean’s surface. “The royal family lives there too.” His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to his words, something ancient and significant about the building that looms over the city like a silent guardian.
You glance at him, blinking, wishing you could ask more, the curiosity burning inside you. If only you could speak, but the water and the mouthpiece keep your questions trapped behind your lips. The tug of his hand interrupts your thoughts, and once again you’re being gently pulled deeper into the heart of Naraeum, where the city unfolds like a dream in slow motion.
The water sways with life—delicate kale and other greens move in rhythm with the gentle currents, shells glint beneath the sandy floor, and tiny crabs scuttle between the rocks, oblivious to your presence. Shoals of fish—bright yellow, orange, and black—dart past, their quicksilver bodies flashing through the twilight water. And now, the eyes of the merpeople are on you. Their gazes, curious and shimmering, follow you as you move through their world, and for the first time, you feel like a true visitor in a land not your own.
Three merpeople approach, their figures graceful and effortless in the water. One, a striking merman with a pink tail that shimmers like rose quartz in the dim light, looks you over with an intensity that makes you feel seen in a way both comforting and unfamiliar. You notice his hand intertwined with a mermaid beside him, her tail a stunning shade of purple that gleams like amethyst. Together, they are radiant, like a pair of jewels. They look perfect together, you think, a bit in awe of how seamlessly they belong to this world.
“This is ___?” the pink-tailed merman asks, his voice smooth, his eyes darting to Namjoon for confirmation.
Namjoon nods, and the mermaid smiles, her face brightening with warmth. “Pleased to meet you,” she says, her voice light like a melody. “I’m Soo-ah, and this is my fiancé, Seokjin.” You nod in response, acknowledging them with a smile behind your mouthpiece, feeling a sense of camaraderie in their presence.
But before you can speak—or even think of what to say—your eyes catch on the third figure. A dark-haired merman with a tail the color of midnight, streaked with gold that glimmers like starlight. His aura is different—colder, detached. His black eyes flicker over you briefly, then, with a dismissive scoff, he turns away, arms crossed over his chest as if to close himself off from the world.
Namjoon sighs, his voice edged with irritation, “That’s Yoongi.” The name comes out rough, almost an apology. “He forgot to take the stick out of his ass today.”
You can’t help but chuckle, bubbles escaping from your mouthpiece, rising toward the surface like tiny pieces of joy. Even in this underwater kingdom, humor survives, softening the tension. But Yoongi, unmoved, swims off into the shadows, his figure disappearing into the vastness of the sea.
“Don’t mind him,” Namjoon mutters, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Come on, I want to show you the rest.”
Soo-ah and Seokjin swim alongside you as Namjoon leads you through the winding streets of the marketplace, stalls lined up like sentinels, though empty now in the quiet of night. The architecture is both foreign and familiar, illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescent plants. Everything feels untouched by time, and yet alive with history. You pass the grand library next, its shelves filled with tomes both ancient and new, merfolk stories and human books resting side by side. You can almost feel the weight of untold stories and hidden lore that fills the space, waiting to be discovered.
Namjoon’s excitement builds as he takes you to a fitness center unlike anything you’ve ever seen—massive bars with stones at either end, weights crafted from various-sized rocks, and machines clearly designed for strength and agility in the water. It’s a glimpse into the life of these beings, how they build themselves in this weightless world.
After a while, Soo-ah and Seokjin bid you farewell, their presence a quiet comfort as they swim off together, leaving you alone with Namjoon. Your pulse quickens. His hand, still clasped in yours, feels warm even in the cold depths of the sea. The way he glances at you—those fleeting, secretive looks that you’ve caught out of the corner of your eye—makes your heart race even more. Hae’s words echo in your mind, whispering truths you’re not sure you’re ready to admit.
Could it be? you wonder, as the two of you drift toward his home.
“This is my place,” he says softly, his voice reverberating through the water as he turns on the light—an iridescent seashell hanging from the ceiling that casts a gentle, pearlescent glow throughout the space. His home is carved into the heart of a cave, the walls smooth and cool to the touch, like the sea itself has shaped them over countless years. Your eyes fall on his bed, draped in what looks like a soft, inviting duvet, but as you get closer, you realize it’s woven from delicate strands of kelp, swaying ever so slightly in the currents. It’s an unexpected beauty, intricate and organic, like everything in this underwater world.
The longest wall is dominated by a towering bookshelf, its shelves lined with books, arranged meticulously by color and size. It’s mesmerizing, this ocean of stories he’s collected, and you can’t help but wonder what worlds and lives he’s explored within these pages. You want to tell him, to say how beautiful it all is—his home, his soul, him. But your words are trapped beneath the weight of the sea, tangled with the breathlessness of being in his presence.
Your fingertips brush the spines of the books, imagining all the narratives they contain, each one another layer of who Namjoon is. You glance down at your joined hands—his fingers laced with yours, and in that quiet moment, you swear you can feel something electric passing between you. A pulse of warmth, a silent exchange of emotions you can’t speak. You want to kiss him, more than anything. The way he’s gazing at you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken, the gentle curve of his lips hiding a blush you wish you could see more clearly.
But here, in this quiet cavern beneath the sea, there’s nothing you can do. You can’t ask him what you’re dying to know, can’t lean in and feel the warmth of his lips against yours, can’t tell him that you’re falling, deeply, helplessly. All you can do is float here, heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid.
He clears his throat, nervously scratching the back of his head. His mouth opens as if he’s about to speak, then closes again. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, lingering in the air between you. He tries again, and this time his voice, soft and hesitant, finally breaks the silence.
“Thank you for letting me show you my world.”
You squeeze his hand gently, pouring all the gratitude and affection you can’t voice into that single touch. You hope he feels it—the appreciation, the awe, the quiet longing you carry for him. And in that touch, you wish you could invite him into your world, share everything that you are with him, even though he’s been on land before. But you don’t know if he’d want that. You’ve never asked, never dared to imagine what it might be like to share your lives across these two worlds. You’re afraid to impose, afraid to hope too much.
The moment hangs fragile between you, but like all perfect moments, it begins to fade as reality presses in. You feel the pull of time, the reminder that you need to return to the surface. Namjoon feels it too. His eyes flicker with understanding as he leads you back out into the city, guiding you through the soft glow of bioluminescent lights, past the merpeople still moving gracefully through their midnight routines.
The silence between you stretches as you swim toward the boat where Hae waits, but it’s not the kind of silence that weighs heavy. It’s filled with possibility, thick with everything you haven’t said. Your heart beats faster as you realize that, once you’re back above the water, you’ll have the chance to speak. To ask. The thought of it sends your pulse racing, a swirl of excitement and terror mixing in your chest.
What if he doesn’t feel the same? The question spins through your mind, gnawing at the edges of your courage. But the way he looked at you, the way his hand feels in yours, gives you hope. And maybe—just maybe—that will be enough.
As you break the surface of the water, you push your goggles up to rest like a headband, feeling the cool night air kiss your damp skin. It’s crisp, almost electric, filling your lungs with a freshness that makes the world above feel more alive than ever. Namjoon surfaces beside you, offering you a soft smile, but your attention is caught by the subtle blush dusting his cheeks, a faint rose bloom in the moonlight. He seems hesitant, his uncertainty mirroring your own, as if you’re both standing on the edge of something vast and uncharted, too afraid to take that first leap.
For a heartbeat, he swims closer, his presence looming gently in your space. You hold your breath, your pulse quickening with the thought that he might—maybe—kiss you. Instinctively, you close your eyes, ready to surrender to that moment, but instead, his fingers brush your cheek, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear with such tenderness it sends a wave of warmth through your body. His touch lingers, delicate and deliberate, and though it wasn’t the kiss you imagined, it makes you blush all the same. The heat rises to your cheeks, flooding you with a mixture of longing and disappointment.
But then something stirs within you—some reckless courage sparked by his closeness—and before you can think it through, you lean in. Your lips find his, a soft, quick kiss, almost like a whisper. It’s gentle, just a peck, but his lips are warm, softer than you ever imagined, like the sea breeze caressing your skin on a summer evening.
When you pull away, you see the surprise flicker in his eyes for just a moment before his features soften into something tender and full of quiet affection. His ears burn red in the moonlight, and his dimples deepen as he gazes at you with a look that leaves you breathless. His brown eyes—dark and shimmering, like polished amber—glow with something more, something deeper. You think, just for a second, it’s desire, simmering beneath his calm exterior.
“Thank you for tonight,” you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the soft lapping of the waves. You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth and strength of him, and smile. “It was so beautiful.”
Namjoon doesn’t speak; he simply looks at you, his dragon-like eyes full of quiet intensity, his dimples softening the tension in the air. It’s a look that makes your heart skip, that holds a thousand unsaid words between you. And as you reluctantly pull away, swimming toward the boat, your mind is still spinning from the kiss, from the closeness, from everything left unspoken.
Hae pulls you up into the boat, and as you sit, catching your breath, you catch her sly grin. You know she saw everything—the kiss, the blush, the way Namjoon looked at you—but for now, she stays silent, letting the moment hang in the air. You wave to Namjoon, watching as he offers one last gentle smile before disappearing back into the deep, dark waters, the night swallowing him whole.
And even as the waves settle, your heart still swells, full of the hope and mystery that the night—and Namjoon—left behind.
The days pass in a blur of anxious thoughts, your heart heavy with doubt. Every dive into the ocean feels colder without a trace of Namjoon, and the silence is deafening. Each time you resurface alone, your mind spirals further into uncertainty. Did you overstep? The kiss lingers on your lips, but now you wonder if it was a mistake. It feels as if he’s vanished into the depths, leaving you adrift. Is he avoiding me? The question gnaws at you, twisting your insides. Maybe this is his way of saying he doesn’t feel the same, that he wants nothing more to do with you.
Hae, ever the caring friend, drags you to a fancy restaurant in an attempt to soothe your restless mind, insisting that you’re worrying yourself to death. You look like a dog that’s been kicked, she had said with a shake of her head, trying to make you laugh. But now, as you sit across from her, poking at the salad you barely have the appetite to eat, the weight of your uncertainty presses down even harder. Your stomach twists with every bite, the anxiety clinging to you like a shadow.
“Maybe he’s just busy, or caught up in merfolk stuff?" Hae suggests, her voice light, trying to pry you from the dark corners of your thoughts. But your mind won’t let you escape. Busy? No, your treacherous thoughts whisper, he’s avoiding you—he’s forgotten you, and the kiss meant nothing.
You say nothing, only stabbing your fork into the salad with a kind of quiet fury, each jab into the leaves an outlet for the storm brewing inside you.
“Uh, ___?” Hae’s voice breaks the tension, but you barely lift your head. She stumbles over her words, clearly uneasy, her tone cautious as she leans in closer. “There’s a man—blue hair—he’s looking at us.”
At her words, something stirs in you, curiosity overriding the anger for just a moment. Blue hair? Your heart skips a beat, and before you can stop yourself, you turn around, almost instinctively, as though drawn by an invisible thread. Your gaze collides with a pair of deep, brown eyes that hold all the mystery of the ocean. Namjoon.
His eyes glisten like the sea at dawn, reflecting both depth and tenderness, swirling with something unspoken—regret, maybe even desire. You swallow hard, feeling the magnetic pull that has always existed between you, but this time, it’s stronger. The air around you thickens as he walks toward the table, his presence unmistakable, sending your pulse into a wild rhythm.
“Hi, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft, laced with an apology that doesn’t need to be spoken yet. The smile he offers is gentle, almost shy, and you can see the guilt in the way his eyes search yours. He knows. He knows he shouldn’t have disappeared without a word.
“Hi, Namjoon,” you manage to reply, the sound of his name on your lips stirring something deep inside you—something that’s a mixture of relief and frustration. You’re a little mad, of course you are. But as your heart races, you know you can’t stay angry with him, not when he’s standing there with that look in his eyes. He’s here now. And that’s enough for your heart to forgive him.
Your eyes travel down to his legs—strong, toned, perfectly human. He’s traded the water for the land, just for you, standing there in beige shorts like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And yet, your mind spins with the impossibility of it all, as if he’s a dream made flesh, and part of you still can’t believe he’s really here.
The air between you is thick with unspoken words, a tension that seems to ripple like the sea itself. Namjoon scratches the back of his head, his eyes shifting with uncertainty. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone,” he begins, his voice low and sincere. “I didn’t mean to disappear like that, but something happened in Naraeum—”
Before he can finish, the weight of your own anxiety breaks through, forcing the words from your chest. “I thought you didn’t like me, or just forgot about me.” The admission tumbles out, raw and trembling, the very fear that has haunted you for days finally taking shape between you. As soon as the words leave your lips, you feel exposed, vulnerable. You brace yourself for his response.
For a moment, he just stares, his expression frozen in disbelief, like your words have knocked the wind out of him. Then, his face softens, eyes wide with something close to shock. “Baby, no,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, the nickname slipping from his lips so naturally that it sends a flutter of warmth through your chest. He steps closer, worry etched in every line of his face as his gaze falls on you, sitting there with your heart in your throat.
Baby?
“I’d never forget about you,” he continues, his voice trembling slightly as he bites his lower lip, as if trying to hold something back. The intimacy of that small gesture makes your breath catch.
Hae clears her throat opposite you, breaking the charged moment. She rises from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing both your gazes toward her flushed face. “Namjoon, please, take my seat and talk. I’ll go home and shower this tension off,” she says, her tone teasing but kind.
You open your mouth to protest, but then close it, realizing she’s right. The tension is palpable, thick as the ocean depths, and part of you is grateful for the space she’s offering. Even though nerves twist inside you like a storm, you know this is a conversation you need to have.
As Hae leaves, Namjoon sits down across from you, his eyes soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry I worried you, baby,” he murmurs, leaning forward slightly. His hands rest on the table, inching closer to yours, like he’s afraid to cross that final distance too soon.
There’s that word again—baby—and it stirs something deep inside you, butterflies rising in your chest, fluttering wildly, desperate to escape. It’s more than just a nickname; it’s a promise, a reassurance that melts the cold fear that has been gnawing at you for days.
“It’s okay,” you reply, your voice softer now, the storm inside you beginning to calm. “My mind just... got the better of me.” Your gaze flickers to where his fingers hover near yours, and your heart beats wildly at the nearness of him.
Namjoon is here, in front of you, and you realize with a quiet, overwhelming relief—he’s never really been gone.
“I could never not like you,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice dipping lower, softer, as if the truth is too delicate to be spoken aloud. “I think I... love you,” he finishes, the last words barely audible, yet they linger in the air between you like a fragile secret.
Did he just say love? Your heart stumbles, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. “You do?” you ask, your voice trembling with disbelief, your pulse fluttering wildly in your chest. Could it be real? Could he feel the same way?
A flicker of uncertainty dances across your mind, and you can’t help but press further, needing clarity. “Wait—do you think, or do you know?” Your question is gentle, but it carries the weight of hope, a hope that has been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
Namjoon smiles at himself, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “Sorry,” he says, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. I know I love you.”
Time seems to slow, the world slipping into a dreamlike state where everything feels soft, suspended, as if wrapped in the warm glow of your shared confession. The air between you feels charged, but also tender, like the fragile moment before the first petal falls. You can feel it now—he’s there with you, and this love, this real thing, is finally mutual.
You reach out, taking his hands in yours, and lean in closer. “I love you too, Namjoon,” you whisper, the words feeling both daring and true.
For a moment, silence settles between you, but it’s a comfortable silence—one filled with the weight of what’s just been said. His hazel eyes, flecked with warmth and softness, hold yours, and you swear you could drown in them. Drown and never wish to come up for air.
The pull between you is magnetic, and before you can stop yourself, the words slip out, unfiltered and bold. “Do you... want to come see my place?” The second the words leave your mouth, heat rushes to your cheeks. The invitation is brazen, filled with unspoken implications, but you know it’s what you want—all of him, not just this moment, but something more, something deeper.
Namjoon’s breath catches, and he stands, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yes, baby,” he replies in a voice that is almost a whisper, but carries the weight of everything he feels. That one word—baby—sends shivers spiraling down your spine, and you bite your lip, holding back a smile.
Hand in hand, you walk together through the quiet night, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth building between you. You don’t need words now; the simple contact of his hand in yours is enough, grounding you as you lean into his strong frame. It feels so natural, as if you’ve always been walking beside him, as if this was always meant to happen.
When you reach your apartment, you fumble for the keys, unlocking the door with a nervous flutter in your chest. As the door swings open, you flick on the light, and for a moment, you glance around, hoping he won’t find your space too cluttered or small. You’d cleaned just the day before, but still, anxiety lingers.
Namjoon steps inside, his eyes roaming the space, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he looks at you, his gaze heavy with something unspoken, something that makes your heart race. His hand tightens around yours, and you feel yourself being pulled further into his orbit, like gravity drawing you closer.
You look up at him, studying the moles that dot his skin, noticing the way his features are softened by the low light. He’s so close, and in this moment, with his warm eyes on yours and his hand gently holding yours, you think—this is what it means to truly be seen, to truly be wanted. And God, does he look so handsome.
Then, without hesitation, he dives in, his lips crashing into yours with a desperate, urgent need. The moment you let out a soft moan against his mouth, he releases your hand, now free to explore you. Both of his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, yet with a fierceness that pulls you deeper into him. The kiss consumes you, leaving you feeling like water melting in his palms—soft, fluid, and utterly surrendered. His lips tease yours, grazing them in a way that demands more, and when he seeks entrance, you grant it willingly. Your tongues meet in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, moving like waves crashing together under a moonlit sea.
Another moan escapes you, and you feel heat pooling deep inside, a yearning that’s overwhelming. And it’s only a kiss—yet it has you unraveling like a ribbon coming loose.
When he finally pulls away, his gaze locks onto yours, desire simmering in the air between you, thick and electric. “Baby, I want you so bad,” he breathes, his lips curling into a soft pout that makes your heart melt. How does he look both fierce and endearing at once?
You can’t help but smile, your own need burning just as fiercely. “Me too... Please call me ‘baby’ more,” you whisper, fluttering your lashes as you cling to the warmth in his eyes. “I love it.”
He chuckles, the sound like a low rumble of thunder. “Oh, I’ve noticed,” he says, amused. “Every time I call you ‘baby,’ your eyes dilate.”
You didn’t know that, but you feel the truth of it—the way that simple word makes your heart race, how it draws you even closer to him, making you crave more.
“I want you...” You pause, feeling the boldness rise within you, “I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is breathless, your gaze holding his with an unspoken plea.
Namjoon grins, a softness creeping into his eyes. “Oh, baby, I’m going to make love to you,” he whispers, and the words are like honey dripping slow and thick. “Don’t you worry,” he adds, his lips capturing yours again with a hunger that makes your head spin.
Each kiss sends you spiraling further into him, your sanity slipping, but God, you love every second of it. It strikes you then how much of a romantic he is, how the passion in his touch mirrors the stories he loves in his books.
He pulls back, his breath hot against your lips. “Where’s your bedroom?” he asks with a playful chuckle.
You point, and before you can say another word, his strong hands find your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You wrap your legs around him, straddling his hips as he carries you across the room. He opens the bedroom door with a sweep of his foot, not bothering with the light, and gently lowers you onto the bed. Laughter bubbles between you, soft and sweet, as his lips claim yours again in a kiss that is both feverish and tender.
Your fingers tangle in his blue hair, tugging at the strands, and he hisses in pleasure, the sound sending shivers racing down your spine. He grinds against you, his erection pressing firmly against your core, and you feel yourself unraveling again, melting beneath him. God, he feels big, you think, your body aching to know him, to feel him completely.
Your hands move to the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as you tug the fabric upward, longing to see his bare chest again. You know what lies beneath—his broad, muscular frame, every inch of him beautifully sculpted, chest rising and falling with each breath. And you need to touch him, to feel his strength beneath your hands.
In this moment, nothing else matters—just him, you, and the gravity of everything that has led you here.
He pulls away, sensing exactly what you want, and in one fluid motion, grabs the hem of his shirt, peeling it off in a way that feels almost sinful. The sight of him should be illegal—holy hell, the way his muscles flex as he undresses is enough to take your breath away.
Your hands move instinctively, drawn to the expanse of his chest, a perfect blend of softness and strength. The skin beneath your fingers is warm, and the way he feels—solid, yet yielding—is intoxicating.
“Like what you see?” he teases, his voice low and full of that gentle confidence, and you can only gape at him, feeling the warmth of your admiration blossom into something deeper.
“God, Namjoon, you’ve always been beautiful... inside and out,” you murmur, your voice filled with reverence, because while his looks are striking, it’s his soul that captivates you.
His lips curve into a soft smile, his gaze tender as he leans down, brushing light kisses along the curve of your neck. The sensation sends waves of laughter bubbling out of you, light and breathless, as the tickle of his lips spreads joy and heat all at once. He keeps moving lower, trailing kisses down your body like a map only he knows how to navigate.
When he reaches the waistband of your pants, he pauses, eyes flicking up to meet yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Can I?” he asks, his voice both eager and gentle.
“Yes,” you whisper, and as he unbuttons your pants, you arch your back to help him slide them off, heart racing. He pauses again, staring for a moment, captivated by the sight of you, the evidence of your desire already showing.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he says, his voice hushed and full of wonder. “All for me?”
You nod, breath hitching, your body already trembling with need. “Yes, Joon. You make me so damn wet,” you pant, writhing beneath him, desperate for more. “Please, just touch me.”
His gaze darkens with lust as he licks his lips, then dips his head lower, trailing kisses across your stomach, inching closer to where you need him most. Every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you giggle softly, unable to contain the lightness you feel even as desire coils tighter within you. His lips press against the hem of your lace panties, nothing extravagant, yet he looks at you like you’re the most exquisite thing he’s ever seen.
With agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down with deliberate care. The cool air of your apartment contrasts sharply with the warmth between your thighs, and you gasp, aching for him. You feel exposed, vulnerable, but in the most delicious way—his gaze heavy with desire as he takes you in.
“Joonie…” you moan softly, voice trembling, as his eyes linger on your glistening pussy, admiring you. You wonder if he finds you beautiful like this, spread bare before him, and his awestruck expression tells you everything.
“Damn,” he whispers, voice thick with astonishment. “You’re so pretty… already dripping with need.”
Your breath catches as his words wash over you, and when he asks, “Can I taste you? Can I touch you?” you can barely manage a nod as you spread your legs wider, inviting him in.
“Please,” you beg, feeling delirious with want, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.
His touch is featherlight at first, a single finger brushing over your swollen clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. You flinch, already overly sensitive, a gasp falling from your lips as your body responds immediately.
“More,” you plead, rolling your hips into his hand, urging him to press harder, to give you what you crave.
His fingers glide over you, warm and sure, stroking your slick skin with precision. Every movement sets off another spark, and a moan escapes you—high-pitched, breathy, and filled with need. His touch is both tender and demanding, and with every stroke, you feel yourself unraveling, caught in the storm of pleasure.
His fingers continue their rhythm, rolling over your sensitive clit with perfect precision, each movement making it throb with want. Your body reacts instinctively, hips rising to meet his touch, chasing more—chasing everything. You need all of him, and the craving is almost unbearable.
Namjoon watches you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his eyes filled with both desire and wonder as he works you with his fingers, and then, slowly, his lips find the tender skin of your inner thigh. His kisses are featherlight, but they leave a trail of fire in their wake, and you tremble under his touch. With each kiss, he moves closer, until finally, his mouth finds your pussy, his warm tongue lapping at your slick folds, tasting you with reverence.
He groans, the sound vibrating against your core, and your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you want him to drown in your pleasure. His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub, teasing, tasting, and the sensation makes your whole body tense in anticipation. His fingers slide to your entrance, probing gently before slipping inside, one at a time. The stretch feels divine, his fingers curling to reach deeper, and soon two, then three fill you, stretching you in the most perfect, delicious way.
Your toes curl, your breath comes in ragged gasps as you feel the wave of your climax building, rising with every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his fingers. “Joon,” you gasp, a warning, but he only sucks harder, his lips and tongue working in tandem as his fingers thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside you that sends you spiraling.
The world tilts, and your back arches as the orgasm crashes through you, white-hot and electric. You thrash beneath him, pulling at his hair as pleasure floods your body, and all you can do is moan his name in a broken, breathless whisper. Even as your body shudders, he doesn’t stop, his mouth still on your clit, drawing out every last wave until you’re trembling with overstimulation. You tap his shoulder weakly, and finally, he pulls back, his face glistening with your slick, eyes dark with satisfaction.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, his hand brushing softly over your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His touch is light, reverent, and though you’re still floating in the bliss of your release, you feel the need to return the favor rise within you.
“Let me take care of you,” you whisper, your voice thick with desire as you shift, pushing him down beside you. He opens his mouth to protest, but the words are swallowed by a low groan as you straddle his lap, feeling the hard bulge of his cock press against your wet core. You grind down on him, teasing him with the friction, and he lets out a ragged moan that makes your pulse quicken.
“I just want to make you feel good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on him. “I don’t know how mermen make love, but as humans—I want you to feel good too.”
He chuckles softly, his hands resting on your hips, eyes dark with hunger. “It’s definitely not the same,” he admits, voice low and breathless, and that’s all the encouragement you need. You slide down his lap to the floor, your eyes locked on his, your intentions clear.
Your fingers find the waistband of his shorts, and he helps you pull them down, revealing his muscular thighs. When you see the thick outline of his cock straining against his boxers, your mouth waters, anticipation making your pulse quicken. Tugging down the last barrier, you free him, and his cock springs forward, thick and long, the head flushed red with need. A bead of precum glistens at the tip, and your breath hitches at the sight of him, hunger twisting deep inside you.
You lick your lips, your hands moving with purpose—one resting on his thigh, the other wrapping around the thick base of his shaft, feeling the weight of him in your palm. Slowly, you begin to pump, your fingers sliding over the velvety skin as you build a steady rhythm.
Namjoon groans, the sound so deep it reverberates through your core, and you can feel him tense beneath your touch, his body reacting to every stroke. His groans are like music, deep and sinful, and they make you want to push him further, to hear more of those primal, desperate sounds spill from his lips.
Damn, you need more of him.
You glance up at him, mischief in your eyes as you give a playful wink before taking him into your mouth. The taste is salty, a mix of his precum and something else, something almost elemental, as if the sea still clings to him. It sends a shiver down your spine, urging you to lose yourself in the act. You move with intent, your lips and tongue working in unison, breathing deeply through your nose as you take him deeper, each stroke making his body tremble beneath you.
He gasps your name, his voice barely a whisper, like it’s the only thing tethering him to the moment. His hands find their way to your hair, gentle, not controlling—just resting there as if he’s entranced by the sight of you. He glances down, watching the way your mouth moves over him, and his breath quickens, as if the very air has become too thin.
“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained, “you’re so damn good at this.”
You smirk inwardly, already knowing, but the praise sends a thrill through you. There’s something intoxicating about the way he fills your mouth, the way you feel him pulse against your tongue. It makes you wonder how your pussy will take him, how it’ll feel when he’s buried deep inside you, stretching you wide.
You’re making a mess of him—your saliva slicks his length, dripping down onto the sheets—but you don’t care. Not when he’s like this, writhing beneath you, his muscles taut with need. Your hand moves lower, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in your palm, and you feel them tighten as he draws closer to the edge.
“Damn,” he rasps, voice rough with desire, “you look and feel so fucking amazing.”
The sound of his praise sends another wave of heat rushing through you, making you wetter, a needy ache building low in your belly. You take him deeper, determined, your throat tightening as you try to swallow him down. But your gag reflex protests, and you pull back slightly, not wanting to push too far. Instead, you focus on teasing the head, your tongue circling slowly before flicking across his sensitive frenulum. He groans sharply, his hips jerking, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you.
He’s unraveling, his control slipping, and you love it—love the power you hold over him in this moment, love seeing him lost in you.
Suddenly, his hands come to your cheeks, stilling your movements as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. “Baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with both lust and affection, “you’re dangerous with that mouth. If you keep going, I’m going to come right down your throat… and I want to make love and come inside you.”
You release him with a soft pop, a teasing smirk playing on your lips as you lick them slowly, savoring the taste of him. “You can always come down my throat later,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry. Rising to your feet, you peel off your shirt, followed by the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breasts spill free, and the heat in Namjoon’s gaze intensifies as his hands instinctively find your hips, his grip firm yet tender.
“Is every inch of you just perfect?” he breathes, awe in his voice. The compliment sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you chuckle softly, not answering because his words feel rhetorical, like they’re part of the worship that’s building between you.
Instead, you lean down to kiss him, pouring every bit of your desire into it. His cock twitches beneath you, hard and throbbing against your thighs, but you take your time, savoring the kiss—long, slow, and tender. You straddle him, hovering just above his cock, your body aching to sink down, to feel him inside you. But instead, you pause, letting yourself get lost in the depth of his gaze, his eyes like molten gold, swirling with emotion.
He kisses you again, his lips soft but insistent, and in that moment, you feel weightless. Like you’re floating, caught in a current, drifting between pleasure and affection. You feel cherished, like a treasure he’s unearthed from the depths of the ocean—glimmering, precious, and adored like the gems you’ve been collecting.
He groans, a deep, feral sound vibrating from his chest, and his hands tighten around your hips, the pressure promising bruises that’ll bloom as tender reminders of this moment. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, baby,” he pants, his eyes dark and hooded with lust, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve of your face. His lips search for yours, hungry, desperate to close the space between you again.
“Likewise,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, your pulse racing. One of your hands trails down his body, fingers grazing his taut abdomen before wrapping around the thick length of him. You lift yourself slightly, feeling the heat of him against you. Just as you’re about to guide him inside, his deep voice cuts through the haze of desire.
“Should we use a condom?” he asks, his words momentarily shattering the tension, leaving the air thick but still.
You blink, slightly caught off guard, but quickly recover. “We don’t have to,” you murmur, sensing his hesitation. His brow furrows, so you add, “I have an IUD, and I’m clean. It’s… it’s been a long time for me.” Your words taper off, embarrassment creeping into your cheeks, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze.
He studies you for a second, his expression softening before that same, dark hunger returns. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure,” he rumbles, his voice like molten velvet, sending shivers racing down your spine. The sound of him, the depth of his tone, makes your body respond instinctively—your pussy clenches with anticipation, aching for him to fill the emptiness inside you. “It’s been a long time for me, too. So, I’m sorry if I don’t last long…”
You shake your head, silencing his concern with a gaze that speaks louder than words. You need him, now. The heat between you both is unbearable, every second a sweet kind of torture. You guide the head of his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself by gliding him along your folds, feeling his hardness slick against your wetness, sending delicious tremors through your body.
Slowly, you position him at your opening and sink down.
The stretch is exquisite—a burn that ignites every nerve as he fills you inch by glorious inch. He’s thick, and the sensation of him sliding deeper feels like nothing you’ve ever known. Your breath catches in your throat, and you swear you hear him curse under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening as he savors the feel of your walls closing around him.
“Fuck…,” he groans, his voice wrecked, vibrating through you like a shockwave. “So damn tight.”
“Yeah…” you pant, your head spinning, your body adjusting to his size. Inch by agonizing inch, until finally, he’s fully seated inside you. You pause, trembling, your insides fluttering as he twitches deep within. You let out a soft moan, your lips searching for his in a fevered kiss, one that feels more like a collision than anything tender.
When you pull away, your gaze locks with his, your voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so fucking good… like you’ve always belonged there.”
He hums in response, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he traces your body with his hands, unable to take in enough of you. “You’re perfect,” he breathes, the words low and reverent.
Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you lift yourself slowly, your body trembling with anticipation. Then, with a burst of need, you slam down, impaling yourself on his cock, a scream of pleasure ripping from your throat. Namjoon moans, the sound guttural and raw, as you ride him with renewed vigor, losing yourself in the rhythm.
Your breasts bounce with each thrust, catching his attention, and without hesitation, his hands move to cup them. His lips trail down to one nipple, his mouth warm and eager as he takes it between his lips. You gasp at the sensation, a surge of heat flooding your core, and you feel a gush of wetness coat him as your body responds to his touch. You didn’t realize you’d come until the tremors hit, your pussy clenching tightly around him, your body quivering in waves of pleasure.
His tongue circles your nipple, flicking it gently before his teeth graze the sensitive bud, and the sensation sends you spiraling. Your breath stutters as he switches to your other breast, his hands roaming, kneading your skin, every touch heightening the electricity between you. Just as his mouth closes around your other nipple, his teeth accidentally bite down harder than intended, and a sharp cry escapes your lips—his name, ripped from your throat like a plea and a curse all at once.
He freezes, eyes wide, concern flashing across his face. But the look you give him—wild, consumed with lust—tells him everything he needs to know.
“I’m so fucking sorry—,” he gasps, but his words barely register through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. Your gaze softens, your eyes half-lidded with desire, a gentle delirium swirling in their depths.
“No, no, it was good, Joonie,” you whisper, your voice a breathy melody. Your hand drifts to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair, tugging lightly. “I loved it.”
He pauses, a chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest, and you feel the twitch of his cock still buried inside you, a silent promise of more. His lips descend to your chest again, worshipping your skin with slow, languid kisses. His tongue finds your nipple, teasing it with a delicate flick before sucking, nipping just enough to make you moan his name, the sound a song on your lips.
Your body trembles, another orgasm crashing over you like a summer storm, your walls tightening around him in waves of bliss. He groans, a low, primal sound vibrating through your entire being. “Fuck, you—” His voice breaks with need as he rises from the bed, lifting you effortlessly, his body still entwined with yours. In one swift motion, he turns and lays you back down, pressing you into the sheets, his hips surging forward with raw intensity.
“This fucking pussy,” he growls, the words so feral, so laced with hunger that it sends a jolt of heat through you, your toes curling as your body responds to the deep, relentless thrusts. You moan, overwhelmed by the sensation of being pushed up the bed, your fingers gripping the sheets in desperation. Could you come again? Already, your body is teetering on the edge, caught in the rhythm of his passion.
He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “You look so gorgeous, baby,” he rasps, each word dripping with lust as his hips drive into you again, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as though all the air has been stolen from your lungs.
“Are you gonna come again?” he asks, his voice rough with need. You bite your lip, uncertain if you can, but the fire in your core tells you otherwise. Your hand slips between your bodies, fingers seeking out your clit. Everything is so slick, so impossibly wet, but you manage to find that perfect rhythm, circling the sensitive nub as your breath hitches in your throat.
It’s like the tide pulling you under—a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you with blinding force. Your orgasm overtakes you, your body shaking beneath him as you cry out his name, each syllable a desperate plea, a prayer to the god of ecstasy. You thrash beneath him, lost in the throes of release, and still, he keeps thrusting, deep and deliberate, as your body flutters around him, the aftershocks rippling through you.
“Fuck, that was so hot,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as his cock twitches inside you, on the edge of release. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his warm seed filling you as his orgasm hits him hard, his body trembling with the force of it. His face—god, it’s beautiful in this moment—the way his lips part, how his brow furrows in pleasure, how he keeps moving, riding out the last waves of his climax until he begins to soften inside you.
Both of you are left panting, gasping for air like you’ve surfaced from the depths of the sea. He collapses beside you, pulling you close, your bodies still warm, still trembling. Your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you heavy with shared satisfaction.
“That was amazing,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp against your ear.
You chuckle, cheeks flushed and glowing. “Yes… we should definitely do that again.”
He turns on his side, his fingers brushing your arm tenderly as he gazes at you, eyes filled with warmth. “We really should.”
But then, out of nowhere, a ripple of anxiety courses through you, tightening your chest. You turn to him, your heart suddenly heavy. “Can we really make this work?” you ask, your voice small, vulnerable. “You, being a merman… and me, human?”
Namjoon’s expression softens, his gaze tender as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. His hands trace soothing circles along your back, grounding you in the moment. “Yes,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll make it work. We have to.”
In his arms, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, the world feels possible again.
→ Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld @bangtannie7 @suker4angst → Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still sometimes use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work (the banners)). → Author’s note(2): Only four mermaid stories left now! 🥳I hope you’ll like the other ones as well, and please let me know what you liked; you’re always welcome to leave me a comment, a reblog or an ask 🥰 Thank you so much for reading, love you 💜
#namjoon x reader#namjoon scenario#kim namjoon smut#namjoon scenarios#namjoon smut#namjoon fanfic#namjoon x y/n#namjoon x you#kim namjoon x reader#kim namjoon fic#namjoon fic#namjoon fluff#namjoon angst#knj smut#knj x reader#knj fluff#bts smut fic#bts smut#bts fic#rm smut#rm x reader#rm fanfic#rm fic#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts imagine#bts x you#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fic#bangtan smut
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caught your fever I'll be feeling it forever ❅ (a.s)
PART TWO
❅ pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader
❅ summary: You and Anakin have always been the best of friends; who just happen to be in love and are refusing to do anything about it. OR You go on a ski trip with several of your friends and have to share a bed with your best friend, whom you’ve been harbouring feelings for years.
❅ genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni) modern!au
❅ word count: 12,1k (uhm. sorry.)
❅ warnings/tags: friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers kinda, one bed trope + forced proximity trope, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, reader is described as shorter than anakin, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom anakin, ok… just kinda a softer anakin, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, size kink, praise kink, lots of pet names. this is not beta read sorry!
❅ a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about their blorbo! this one is so hot and dear to me likeeee always wanted to write these tropes. so here you go <3 also ngl.. majority is just smut 😭
AO3 • masterlist
❅⋆* ☾ ⋆* ❅・゚:⋆* ❅・゚
As you open the door to your bedroom, you drop your bag and flick on the light. The space is cosy with pine furniture and a fireplace to light when the room gets cold. The balcony allows for a picture perfect view of the distant forest and snowy landscape. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. Overall, cute and warm.
You hear Anakin swearing quietly behind you as you take in the room.
There’s one thing though.
There’s only one bed.
And it is quite tiny, looks smaller than a double, slightly bigger than a single bed, and various pillows stacked on top of each other.
A few months ago your mutual friends begged you to come along to this ski trip to the Alps. Honestly, you didn’t want to come to this trip in the first place but when Padmé, one of your closest friends told you that Anakin would come along you just couldn’t resist.
You feel your stomach coiling into knots and your body heats up as you realise you’ll have to share this bed this whole trip with your best friend. The man you’ve been hopelessly in love with for as long as you can remember.
All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes catch yours, or the way your heart beats fast whenever you are in close proximity to him. But, of course, you try to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Anakin could never feel the same way about you as you feel about him.
So far, you’ve lived twenty-four years, and throughout a huge majority of it Anakin Skywalker has been your anchor, your only constant. Being his best friend is easy, just as natural as breathing. Falling in love with him was bound to happen anyway. It’s inevitable.
“Fucking, Snips.” He grumbles under his breath.
Ahsoka had promised you that the both of you would be sharing a room together but at the last minute, she picked a bedroom for herself. The only other bedroom left. She’d give you a silent apology with the most innocent smile you had ever seen as she ran up to her room.
Every single one of your friends have already been paired up or have their own rooms and you have a feeling that they did this on purpose.
Slowly, you spin around, looking at Anakin who looks extremely flushed. He looks adorable even if he looks a little overwhelmed right now. If it weren’t for the fact that you feel just as overwhelmed as him, you would probably tease him for his pink cheeks.
“Uhm—”
“Look, I can always just take the couch downstairs.” Anakin interrupts as he grimaces, scrubbing a hand over his face before he turns around to head out the room.
You swallow nervously, steadying your breathing the best way you can before you speak.
“Ani, wait.” You call out, cringing internally at how desperate you sound. “The bed is clearly big enough for the both of us.”
He sighs as he turns around, facing you.
“Besides, the couch is much smaller than the bed,” you huff out a nervous laugh as you try to avoid his eye contact. You pick up your bag and then toss it on the bed. “And it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before.” You smile shyly up at him as you push some hair back behind your ear.
“Right.” Anakin smiles back, just as nervous as you. “Are you sure?” He tries, the idea of sharing a bed with you overwhelming him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Ani,” you look up at him, as you frown. You’re sure you’re pouting but you don’t care. It feels as if sharing a bed with you terrifies Anakin. “Do you mind sleeping in the same bed? Am I that awful to share a bed with—”
“No!” He cuts you off with wide eyes, a bit too quickly. He clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean, no, of course not. I just, I truly don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Your heart warms up at his words. “I won’t, I promise.” You reassure him with a small but genuine smile. “As long as you’re fine with it too?”
Anakin reciprocates your smile and nods, “of course, sweetheart.”
⋆。゚❆ ☁︎ ﹡。⋆。❅ ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ﹡❅ ༶
You can’t stop shivering.
Even hours after you’ve come back from skiing, you’re trembling. The cold not leaving your body, as you can’t seem to warm up. The warm water of the shower from earlier didn’t help either. Your hands are freezing cold, your fingers feeling like ice cubes.
You don’t like skiing, it’s one of the reasons why you were so reluctant to come along on this trip. Not because you hate the sport, but you’re just awful at it.
You’ve been trying all day to ski the right way, only for you to fall on your face in the snow every single time you thought you were getting the hang of it.
You’re certain that multiple of your friends' camera rolls, especially Ahsoka’s and even Ben’s, are now full of pictures and videos of you going down the baby slopes with all the little kids laughing at you as you kept falling down.
The worst of it all is that this wasn’t your first time skiing. You used to go skiing a lot as a kid but it’s been at least fifteen years ago that you put skis on, let alone went skiing. Even with the help of Anakin, you would continue to make a fool out of yourself. After countless times of him catching you, you finally gave up.
You truly wished you stayed at the chalet with hot chocolate and a good book.
Especially after hours of being back in the chalet, you still can’t seem to get warm. Not only are you extremely cold, your body is sore as well.
After you’ve had dinner with the whole group, you go straight to take another shower. You couldn’t wait to engulf your body in warmth again.
As you emerge from the adjacent bathroom in your pyjamas with a hoodie on top of it, after taking your second shower of the evening, you can’t help but stop and stare at the sight before you. Anakin is sitting shirtless against the headboard with some pillows propped against it to make him feel more comfortable, while he’s holding one of his sketchbooks. He’s covered in blankets and you can’t help but find him adorable as you admire him.
The change of temperature in the room is the next thing you notice, before you hear some crackling of fire. Anakin must have started the fire, to bring some warmth to the room. The fireplace illuminates the room in a beautiful warm glow, and you have to pull your eyes away as the orange lightning makes Anakin look even prettier.
Unfortunately, after your shower you still feel extremely cold. The shivering doesn’t stop.
“I lit the fireplace.” He says with a smile as he looks up from his sketches.
Despite how cold you feel, a sense of warmth spreads through your chest by his words. “Thank you, Ani. That’s very sweet.” You whisper before making your way to your side of the bed, instantly getting under the covers and blankets.
Once you are settled underneath your covers he turns his attention back to his sketchbook, resuming his drawings or doodles.
As he concentrates on his drawings, your gaze flicks over to him every one in a while, his face lit up by the orange glow of the fireplace. He’s always been pretty, that’s a fact, but you can see it now more than ever. You can’t help but admire how beautiful he looks, it nearly takes your breath away.
It’s hard to look away.
Minutes have passed and you’re still freezing, teeth chattering and body trembling as chills run up and down your arms and legs. You desperately rub your hands over your arms as you try to warm up but eventually you settle your hands underneath your arms.
The rustling of the sheets has probably caught his attention because soon Anakin calls out your name.
“Did the shower not help this time around?”
You look up as you catch him staring at you. Despite the fact that you continue to shiver underneath the covers you feel yourself get flustered as he looks at you intensely. His blue eyes shine so beautifully in the sunset glow of the room. You almost forget the question that left his lips as you quickly snap out of your daze.
You don’t trust yourself to speak. So instead, you close your eyes for a second and just simply shake your head as another huge shiver runs down your spine.
Anakin seems to contemplate with himself as he lies still after you answered. He sighs after the beat of silence, then puts his book and pencil aside.
“Come here,” he says softly as he beckons you to come to him.
A flash of heat washes over your face as you look at him. As you continue to look at him with wide eyes he rolls his eyes playfully at you. “Come on sweetheart,”
You’re used to cuddling your best friend sometimes but never in this position, and certainly not in the same bed. But you can’t help but feel your whole body crave for his touch.
You nibble on your bottom lip before you finally decide to move closer to him.
As you come closer he slowly wraps his arms around you, giving you time to pull away in case he is overstepping boundaries. Seeing that you don’t pull away, he fully wraps his arms around you; engulfing you in his embrace.
Once you settle in his touch, you’re immersed in warmth. You aren’t sure if it is the body heat your best friend radiates or if it is the blood that runs to your cheeks. Soon you realise you aren’t exactly cuddling him back. So then you wrap your arms around his body, your hands settling on his back.
The touch of your fingers grazing his bare back pulls a shiver and a gasp out of your best friend.
“Shit, angel,” he curses under his breath, pulling back from your embrace to take one of your hands in his. Then he grabs the other one and clasps them together. “Your fingers are literally frozen!”
He holds your hands between his own warm palms as he looks at you. He holds your gaze as you continue to shiver in front of him. Anakin then lowers his head. His lips hover barely an inch over your skin, then opens his mouth to release a few hot breaths directly onto your fingers.
“Sweetheart, you’re freezing.” He whispers, almost as if more to himself. He is rubbing your hands as he looks back at you.
Then he holds your eye contact as he lowers his lips to your skin again. But this time, he presses soft kisses against your knuckles.
He continues to place kisses all over your fingers and occasionally blows some warm air onto your skin. It brings a flutter to your stomach while you stumble for something to say to him. You feel yourself melt and turn putty in his touch. As he continues to shower you in his affection you can’t help but notice how soft his touch is.
“I-I—” you choke as a whirling feeling shoots through your body. Warmth rises to your face once again and all over your body as he continues to stare into your eyes.
The last time you held hands was when you were both children, when his mom took you two to get some of your fave ice cream from the ice cream truck in the park during a hot summer afternoon.
You realise that your body is still extremely close to his, as he continues to hold your hands in his. By now most of the cold has left your body. You’re not exactly sure what made it go away but you are pretty sure Anakin is somehow the reason for it. You’re convinced he is some sort of magician because how could his touch bring warmth this fast back to you.
“Are you still cold?” He asks as he holds your gaze while he plays with your fingertips.
“Yes.” You half lie, as you bite your lip.
Being so close in this bed with him makes your cheeks turn hotter. You hope Anakin can’t sense that you’re lying, because you truly don’t want his touch to leave you.
“Oh, no,” he tuts before a smile grows on his face, “we can’t have that now.” His eyes twinkle in the dim light as he looks into yours. As he releases your hands you have to hold back a whine at the loss of his touch.
But soon he wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close against him, your chest pressed against his. He sighs softly as you settle into his embrace, and you melt into him as he holds you.
You adjust your head on the pillow. Your body relaxes instantly as he lets you bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’re both incredibly close together, you can feel his heartbeat drum at the same nervous rhythm as yours.
“Feeling better?” He questions as he leans his head on the top of your head.
He chuckles as you hum in response and continue to nuzzle your face against his skin.
“A bit,” you pull at your bottom lip as you look up at him.
His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, over the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.
You feel weak around him. But in the best way.
“You’re so warm, Ani.” You blissfully sigh as you melt into him, nuzzling into his shoulder with your eyes still closed.
You hear your best friend’s breath hitch as your hands start to wander all over his back. You're feeling the soft skin of Anakin’s hips mindlessly, sending shivers up his spine as you graze your fingers slowly against his skin.
You shift your head up just slightly, his chin on your forehead as your nose touches the underside of his jaw. Across your head you can feel Anakin’s breathing, each inhale and exhale starting to deepen as your lips slowly ghost over his chin.
His head then moves away from you just slightly, and regards you for a while, as if he’s trying to determine your comfort level. As you’re both maintaining eye contact, your gaze intensifies as you’re studying Anakin’s face, including his features. You can see the little freckles, moles, his scar and the slight stubble on the lower parts of his face. Your eyes move from his eyes down the slope of his nose and soon your attention is irresistibly drawn to his lips.
The beautiful lips you’ve been dreaming about so many times.
His lips look so inviting, so soft and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on his lips. You’ve always wondered how his lips would feel or how much you’ve always wanted them on your own. How would he kiss? Would he take his time? Or would he devour you?
There’s a moment of silence as Anakin’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.
“Ani, I—,” you start. What are you trying to say? Your heart is beating so fast, it feels almost impossible to think of anything as you look at the man in front of you. You want to tell him everything—that you want more of his affection, that you are hopelessly in love with him, and that you want to be his and his forever.
Anakin doesn’t say anything. Instead, his hands slide down to your waist, tugging you closer just a bit closer. Your eyes widen while his become more drowsy, your breath quickening as his warm breath gently fans across your face. He smells like mint, and you feel yourself lightheaded and almost intoxicated as it washes over you, making you crave him even more.
You’re feeling hot all over, a feverish feeling overwhelming your senses, your heart can’t seem to find peace and quiet, nor can your trembling limbs. It’s not the sick type of feverish, just heat. Tingling, like anticipation but threaded into your nerves, and warmth.
Then one of his hands moves to hold one of your cheeks, allowing for his face to lean even closer to yours, his eyes sliding shut. Your own follows suit as you feel yourself get lost in the feeling of him pressed gently against your body. Both of your noses then brush ever-so slightly as he tilts his head to the side, and it feels as if in that moment the world starts moving in slow-motion.
And then it happens. The two of you are kissing, so suddenly and overwhelmingly it steals the air from your lungs.
One moment you are both staring at each other’s mouths, the next he is wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body fully against him as his soft lips claim yours.
You take a split second to register it, but instinctively you press against his lips with desperation and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.
He groans softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. Anakin swirls his tongue with yours so wonderfully it makes your toes curl and warmth spreads all over your body. His hands grips at your waist and brings your body flush against his.
As you kiss him, you give yourself to Anakin completely. He tastes like a mix of cocoa and mint, the hot chocolate he drank earlier tonight and the other flavour is probably from when he brushed his teeth, and you never wanted anything else. Just Anakin, forever.
You want him to consume your very being.
The same hand as earlier comes up to your cheek again, holding your face sweetly as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper. Your heart feels like it is about to burst out from your chest. Anakin is kissing you. He wants to kiss you. You can’t seem to wrap your head around the fact that he is literally kissing you right this moment. He kisses you like you are all he needs and that there’s nothing he’d rather do than kiss you right now, so you hold onto him, knotting one hand in his hair, letting him know without words that you don’t want this to stop.
It feels like the world around you stops and the only thing that matters is Anakin, his mouth, his touch and his body against your own. And you can’t help but want more, more.
He sighs in your mouth as one of your hands comes to trace the bottom of his scar underneath his eye. He tilts your head back, giving him access to delve in your mouth deeper, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip.
Kissing him is like breathing. He brings you so much relief, a relief so instant and intense you can’t help the soft noises bubbling in your throat. You feel truly so alive. He feels like a hot cocoa on a cold winter day, like a hearth fire, like a tender embrace in the middle of the night. He feels like home.
His soft lips move yours and control the kiss, and you can’t help but melt in his arms, letting him do anything he wants. He is so good at kissing, you want to do this and stay in this moment forever.
He pulls away after what feels like hours to breathe, his warm pants fan across your heated face. He is still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moves a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. He murmurs against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. You have no idea how much I feel for you.” before delving back in for more.
You can’t do anything but fall into Anakin, the scent of chocolate and mint flooding your senses and intoxicating you better than any alcohol ever could. Your hands rove all over him, clutching and grabbing and pulling, anything to keep him exactly where he is, so close to you, right where he is supposed to be.
The long, frantic kisses become more sweet, loving pecks. You then pull away from him to look him in the eyes. Your hands rest on his chest as he smiles down at you, nothing but genuine care and adoration in his soft blue eyes. This is real. He must feel the same things as you do. It is almost too much for you to handle, a sweeter variety of tears falling down your face now as a wide, dizzy grin stretches across your face almost painfully.
“I… I’ve always dreamed of this, I… I-I love y-you, Anakin. So much more than you’ll ever know.” You stutter out before closing your eyes as you enjoy the feel of him being so close to you.
He stills, and you open your eyes. A thousand questions pop up all at once inside your brain as you look at him. Have you done something wrong? Was this too early? Did you not read the situation right?
Anakin pulls his head back, looks down at you. His lips are swollen and wet from all the kisses you two shared, his eyes wide and lips parting as he processes what you just confessed to him. Then, he brings his hand back to your cheek, cupping it gently.
He breathes out your name as his eyes dart all over your face.
His thumb runs along your lower lip, tracing it slowly, his eyes lost in wonder. You watch him for a moment, the look in his eyes as he stares at his thumb moving on your lip. He’s looking at you like you’re the most extraordinary thing in the world, touching you so tenderly and with such gentleness, and you never want him to stop.
Anakin leans in then, slowly, watching you with intensity while he moves his other hand to come and cup your face. He leans in until his forehead touches yours, and you sigh softly as you enjoy the closeness again. The tip of his nose nuzzles yours, his warm breath kissing your lips, less than a few millimetres away now, and you move your thumb on his cheek, stroking his skin and making his eyes fall close as he lets out a relieved sigh.
Then a gentle smile lights up his face that makes your heart swell and skip a beat. Soon his eyes open slowly before he stares deeply into your eyes.
“You are everything I desire,” he whispers, making you still your thumb on his skin as you look at him. His forehead is still pressed against yours. You take in a deep breath, feeling Anakin moving his hands on your face slowly, his fingers spreading out to touch more of you. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you or dream of you. There is no one that is as mesmerising and enchanting as you. You consume my very being.” He pauses before breathing out your name. “You’re the love of my life, I love you.”
“You… y-you’re in love with me?” You stammer, unsure if you heard him correctly. You’re blinking repeatedly as you try to make the tears disappear that are forming in your eyes.
“Yeah sweetheart,” he whispers as his smile widens, his thumb stroking on your cheek again. His fingers move to wipe the tears away as they slip down your cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen,” he says as his smile turns more bashful. “Probably even longer, I am sure I was too oblivious to work it out before then.”
As you look into his eyes, all you can see is pure adoration and love written in them. For all those years, this whole time, you were so scared to tell him how you feel about him… only for him to feel the same way. You were always his, ever since you first laid eyes on him.
“I’ve been in love with you since the first time we met,” you told him, voice soft and quiet. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything for anyone else besides you, ever.”
His grin is contagious, warmer than the fire that’s crackling in the fireplace, brighter than the sun on a warm summer day and you swear that in that moment you feel as if it’s just the two of you in this universe.
You lean your face closer to his to then graze your nose against Anakin’s.
“Yeah?” He smiles, blinding and it only widens when you nod shyly. His nose then moves down to press against your cheek, lips just brushing yours.
“Yeah.” You whisper as you bite your bottom lip timidly.
Slowly he brushes his lips against yours before pulling away just slightly. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and you have to hold back a moan at the delicious, inviting sight. “Baby,” he breathes, sending shivers down your spine, as his gaze shifts from your lips to your eyes repeatedly. “Can I…?”
You nod immediately, not trusting your words, and then he surges towards you to press his lips against yours. You sigh into it, your eyes sliding shut as you bury your fingers in his hair. Anakin groans low in his throat as your fingernails rake against his scalp. His hands then move to wander all over your body as the kiss deepens.
You whimper as he gives your bottom lip a little nip, swiping his tongue against it afterwards to soothe the sting. You gasp, and Anakin takes the opportunity to access the inside of your mouth with his tongue. You moan, feeling lightheaded and dizzy as the kiss turns more heated.
You always knew that he’d be an amazing kisser, but this is something else. His hands grip you and crushes your body to his with fervour as he licks and sucks at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, your arms hanging loosely around his shoulders. You let out more moans and sighs into his lips as he continues to massage the inside of your mouth with his tongue just right.
Anakin devours you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shudders with want, from the need for him. He moves his lips with yours and swirls his tongue with your own. His hand then moves to tangle in your hair as he presses his body to yours completely.
Your hands move to bury in his hair as well. This time, when you pull his hair it is a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whimper as he finally pulls away, leaving your body flush and panting and craving so much more.
“Oh fuck, baby, that’s perfect.” His voice rumbles low in his throat as his adam’s apple bobs, completely exposed. You have to fight the urge to lean down and nip at it, even more heat washes through you at his words.
“I love you Ani,” you whisper breathlessly, as he leans his head back up and kisses you hard on the mouth, his blunt nails digging into your plush hips. “I love you so much.”
“Please, will you say it again baby? I need to hear you say it once more.” He pleads as his eyes flutter.
“I love you.” You whimper as his mouth connects with yours again.
He groans into you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, and you open your mouth for him when you feel his tongue tracing your lower lip and licking into your mouth. His hand raises to cup your cheek, the other wrapping tighter around you as he keeps your body pressed to his.
His mouth then moves from your lips to your cheeks as he whispers his love for you again and again. He starts to trail long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimper pitifully as he suckles lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.
As he continues to move lower down your skin, Anakin’s tongue pokes out every now and then to lavish your skin with it. Lapping, kissing and sucking at your body. His kisses become longer, hotter and more fervent as he continues on. You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you pull him closer against you.
Anakin groans and bites down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cry out, impulsively grinding your hips against his in a desperate search for some much-needed friction against your aching clit.
You gasp, your eyes flying open at the hard bulge you feel against your pussy. You whine as your core starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention, his attention.
Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. The feel of his desire pressed against your heated skin is heavenly, and you roll your hips up into his to feel some friction against your core.
“Need you so bad baby,” he groans against your skin. You shudder against him and feel the sensation pool down low between your thighs. You’re certain that your underwear is ruined by now.
A high pitched whimper slips past your lips as he starts to move along with you, grinding against your clothed cunt.
Anakin pulls away to look at you. His blue eyes stare into yours as his hands move underneath your night dress, his fingers trailing up your thigh. You feel yourself grow nervous at his touch. Despite how much you want it, anxiety bubbles up inside the pit of your stomach.
“Wait,” you whisper and his movements halt immediately.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks worriedly.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter before exhaling deeply. “You are my best friend, so you know everything about me right?”
“Yes, of course.” He frowns.
You take a shuddering breath, mentally preparing yourself for what you are about to say. “Then that also means that I should tell you that I’ve never been intimate with anyone in my life yet.”
You nibble at your bottom lip as his eyes widen in realisation. He knows what you’re insinuating. That you’re a virgin.
You want Anakin so bad, you’ve been dreaming about this for so long but you’d be lying if this doesn’t make you nervous.
It wasn’t like you haven’t dated before. You have been on plenty of dates all your life, too many actually, you’ve even been in a short relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like Anakin did. You’ve tried to get over your feelings for him for a long while but it’s impossible. And the thought of being intimate with anyone else but your best friend just never felt right.
A part of you always hoped that maybe, one day he’d feel the same.
“Oh sweet girl,” he says softly as he looks at you with so much tenderness it has you melting against him all over again. “Please don’t you worry about that,” he smiles warmly as he leans down to nudge his nose against yours. “I will take good care of you.”
“I need and want you so bad, but I’m scared that I might let you down.” You whisper as you continue to nibble anxiously at your bottom lip. “That I’ll disappoint you…”
“Baby,” Anakin speaks softly before he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your temple while he holds you close. Your body relaxes instantly at his affectionate touch. “I am certain you could never disappoint me with this. It doesn’t matter whether you’re experienced or not, you’ll always be the best lover I could ever ask. Because you’re perfect for me.”
He looks at you with so much adoration and love it has you melting against him all over again. “I trust you Ani,” you nod timidly and soon he leans down to envelop your lips in a slow but deep kiss.
Warmth spreads all over your body as his hands start to wander. You whimper against his mouth as his hands slowly caress both of your thighs. Your head is clouded with so much lust, you feel so much love for him. Your brain instantly turns into mush as you continue to kiss each other passionately.
Slowly his hands reach under your night dress moving towards your lower back and trace the soft skin there. You then start to move your hips desperately against his as you moan into his mouth, hoping that Anakin will get the hint soon enough.
The kiss then increases with an intensity that has you gasping for breath. You roll your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moan into his mouth as you rub against him. The front of his pyjama pants strains as he grinds along with you again.
Suddenly everything becomes overwhelming, the temperature in the room is rising quickly, the feel of his touch as it wanders all over your skin and the fact that you’re going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend has you feeling hot all over.
He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whine as he then rolls you both over, hovering over you as he pins your arms gently against the mattress.
You’re so desperate to feel him again.
“So impatient,” he chuckles with a devious smile after he pulls back momentarily to inhale some air. “Such a needy kitten, begging for my touch.”
“Please,” you whine desperately as you wiggle underneath him.
Moments later his lips press against yours again. The kiss gets more heated the more you kiss each other. His hands move down your body again while yours wander to the back of his head and you pull at some strands softly making him moan into your mouth. One of his hands trails slowly up your stomach as the other holds onto your hip. You’re feeling weak at his touch and warmth pools between your thighs as you continue to kiss each other while your hands wander all over each other.
His fingers brush delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wander all over your skin.
“You’re so soft,” he whispers against your mouth. Moments later he pulls his hands away only for his hands to settle on the hem of your hoodie. “Can I take this off, baby?”
You bite your lip and then nod frantically, unable to use your voice at that moment. He smiles as his hands brush under your hoodie for a second before he hooks his fingers in the fabric and draws it upwards.
You raise your arms to help him remove it. As Anakin is pulling away your first garment, the night gown automatically moves along with it. Soon his hands move down to the fabric underneath, pulling it up along with the hoodie. You feel heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roam all over you, taking in every little detail.
The way Anakin is looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, has you feeling so alive.
You don’t know what to do with your hands. They’re trembling so much, and your core is, too, as he discards both of the pieces of clothing to the side and begins mouthing along your collarbone with affection.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as his mouth travels all over your exposed skin.
Your bare chests are touching, your skin on fire. You look at him with wide eyes, as he continues to kiss your skin, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.
His large hands move to the curve of your waist where it meets your hips and clutches it, holding you tight as he litters damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimper as he traces the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.
He leans down, pressing the softest kiss to the side of your breast before he looks up. “Are you okay?” His forearms rests on either side of your body, and when you nod, he brings a single hand up to stroke your left cheek. “If we’re gonna go any further, I need you to talk to me, angel. I need verbal communication. Think you can do that?”
You stare at him for a moment before you nod again. He gives you a knowing look and warmth rises up in your body again. “Sorry,” you whisper. “Y-yes, Ani. Yes, I think I can do that.”
“Good girl,” he praises with a gentle smile. “And if you want me to stop,” he continues, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the valley of your breasts. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at the sheets. “You tell me right away. Okay?” He mutters in a raw tone, strained.
“Y-yes, I understand Ani.” You whimper.
“Good.”
He breathes in through his nose as he inhales your scent and you shiver when he exhales warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.”
Then, he wraps his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucks and licks with passion.
“Ani,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against something, your cunt seeking friction.
“Good?” he quips back, peering up at you as his mouth curls into a Cheshire Cat smile. You feel your skin flush with heat as you just stare down at him. Lust is written all over your face and he has no trouble reading your expression. So he resumes licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as a hand goes up to squeeze your other breast.
You take it upon yourself to bring the hand that’s squeezing your breast, guiding it down to your heat. As his fingers slip underneath the band of your underwear, down to where you need him the most, his mouth falls open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as his fingers slip between your wet lips.
He traces your pussy softly for a while before he pulls himself completely away from you. He sits up as he removes his pants, you whine as you close your eyes, desperate to feel his touch, wanting him on you again.
Once he removes all of his clothes, you feel him move back up to you. He leans down, roving his lips down to your neck, licking and sucking, as his hands cup your sensitive breasts, massaging them in his hands. Heat overwhelms you as Anakin litters soft kisses down your shoulders to your chest. Your hands find his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continues to wander all over your naked skin.
Anakin’s lips move slowly down your body, kissing every little place he can find on your skin while his hands trace along.
He then leans forward, breathing in your core and running his nose along the patch of dampness. You pull at his hair as he inhales your scent. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he hums as he looks up at you with a smile, his hands leave your skin to curl his fingers into the waistband of your panties. “You smell so good. Can’t wait to taste you.”
A shuddering breath leaves your lips as you lift your hips instinctively allowing him to take off your underwear. Once he pushes your legs wide for him, you whimper as the air hits your wet slit. He takes a moment as his eyes take over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continues to stare at your wet hole.
He licks his lips before leaning down, lips lingering on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Anakin’s lips are so close to where you need him the most yet he feels so far away.
“So pretty,” he murmurs as he guides your legs over either of his shoulders.
You’re about to beg as his lips detach from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.
You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.
He pulls away again only for his fingers to move to spread your outer lips for him, Anakin smirks as he slides a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirms at the sensation or the way your wet hole swallows the digit, and you moan against the pillow next to you trying to muffle yourself.
The whine that comes out of you only drives Anakin to seek out more of those heavenly sounds.
“Fuck, such tight pussy.” He moans, as your cunt clenches repeatedly around his digit. “Need to prepare you for my cock.”
Your whines become louder as you feel the pleasure overwhelm you. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, one of his fingers is more pleasurable than any of your fingers.
You whine as your core continues clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumps his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you begin moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he moans. He looks at you intensely as he continues to fuck you with his finger. His eyes can’t seem to stay in one place as he admires how beautiful you are underneath him.
You are panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slips two more fingers inside you. Anakin moves them slowly at first as your tight pussy tries to adjust to the addition. The stretch is overwhelming but so satisfying. Little whimpers leave your lips as he fucks you with his fingers. He moves his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
Your hands are tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as your body moves along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spread them.
You gasp, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, kissing you with everything that he has. "That feels good doesn't it, baby girl? You like it when I touch you like this?" Anakin groans and his thumb makes contact with your clit. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.
“Yes, please please Ani, feels… so good.” You moan loudly.
Soon his lips travel all the way down your body making you whine and whimper and beg silently for more — all while he’s still finger fucking you.
Anakin inhales your scent as soon as he leans forward, but doesn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wets his lips before his head dips between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.
“Fuck, Aniiii!” You shriek, as your hips buck off the mattress.
Squeaky, senseless noises bubble up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stutter against him and he just sighs like there’s nothing in the world he'd rather be doing than this right now, eating you out on this bed.
You’re a mess of his name, chanted and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeeze shut to the point of tears, his mouth licks up your clit, he continues to finger you while one of his other hands is holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you buck into him, trying to urge him to do more.
The way he works up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continues to build up as Anakin suckles on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightens as he starts to quicken his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, has your toes curling and clenching your thighs to squeeze around his head.
“Aah, too much!” you squeak, strangled and desperate and extremely close to the edge, “t-too too much, I-I–fuck.”
“Easy, angel,” he whispers before he places a soft kiss on one of your thighs, his fingers stilling inside you.
“Aniiii baby,” you mumble as you borrow your head in the pillow.
“It’s okay baby, I know, I’ve got you” he coos again, his smile all teasing. “It’s a lot. Will you let me continue?”
“Y-yeah, just uh wait a second” you whine.
“Anything for you.”
But after a moment, waiting feels too much. It feels like hours are passing by. You’re already tired of waiting and he is, too. Anakin leans down to dip his tongue between your folds to lick upwards to your clit.
You sigh at the same time he does, except yours is very high-pitched and his sounds so dreamy. Anakin is lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you, taking care not to be too rough this time and push you over the edge when you’re not ready for it.
“Oh, my god,” you whimper, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, trying to silence yourself. “Fuck, ahhh Ani, f-fuck…”
He moans against you as his lips seal around your clit and you buck your hips at the action. “Fucking- you taste good. You feel so good. You’re everything.”
“Fuck, Ani baby, oh my fucking— god,” you cry out loud. You’re sure your friends in the other rooms have heard you by now. He sucks lazily at your clit while he curls his fingers into you. Anakin eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You keep chanting his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.
You gasp loudly as your whole body trembles even more, the hot feeling continues to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Anakin’s hand and face. Then your body tenses as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you are experiencing. Your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.
“You’re doing so well for me baby,” he says proudly as his fingers slow down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, while he continues to lick your clit, still helping you ride out your orgasm.
You are a sputtering mess while he teeters you towards overstimulation.
As you come back to your senses, you feel his fingers slip away from your heat. Your pussy clenches repeatedly around nothing, you feel like a hot storm and you’re sopping wet from the waist down and dripping down the poor sheets, as you whimper helplessly.
You need him so bad. Your pussy continues to pulse, begging to be filled all over again. Begging for his cock.
Your eyes are still closed as you feel your legs being spread further apart with his strong hands. A loud broken moan leaves your lips as Anakin dives between your legs again, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your needy hole before he travels up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet muscle and sucking your button into his mouth.
You practically scream at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed. Your body trembles terribly. You need more. You try to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continues to shake.
Strong arms are suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.
“Taste so good kitten, could eat this pussy all day.”
The man you love the most in this whole universe is between your legs as he keeps sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He then sucks the nub softly between his lips.
Eventually he leans down, slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curls the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.
You’re a mess, a whimpering needy mess. Your hips try to move against his face as you continue to moan breathlessly underneath him. Writhing below him, you feel him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that has you seeing stars, while your hips buck against his face uncontrollably. Thighs clamp around his head as you feel another orgasm nearing. Defiance and greed consumes your thoughts, your fingers once again gripping onto his brown hair rather harshly and hips pushing against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.
“Ahhh Anakiiiin—” you drag out. You are so close, you just need one more little push.
You’re moving your hips against his face, fucking yourself onto his tongue as he applies pressure on your sensitive spot inside you with his tongue, you can feel his thumb circling your clit, making you see stars.
“Be a good girl and come for me,” Anakin moans against your pussy before plunging his tongue back inside. With a bit more pressure on your clit and the sound of his deep voice you come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as you feel your movements against his face getting sloppier.
Your hips are stuttering until the final waves of aftershock pass. Gently, he laps at your release until the overstimulation is getting too much.
“You did so well angel, you’re so good to me. So beautiful. You taste so good and sweet.” He says, his voice deep, as he kisses the skin of your inner thigh.
You whimper at his words, gently pulling your hips away from his mouth. He grins, holding eye contact as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth.
You giggle as he licks his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. You bring your hands up lazily to cover your heated cheeks, but Anakin is having none of it. He places soft kisses all over your hands and then drags them down gently, then leans down to pepper kisses to your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, until his mouth lands on your lips with a smile, joining in on the soft laughter between each kiss.
He pulls away with a satisfied sigh, he smiles as he reaches to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.
You sigh as you melt at the feel of his touch and kiss his thumb as it comes to trace across your lips. You wrap your still shaky legs around his hips as you stare into his eyes.
“I think I’m ready.”
“Sure?” He asks softly.
“Yes,” you nod as you then snake your hand between the both of you, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek.
“We can stop at any time if it’s becoming too much for you,” he reminds you, and you know the serious look in his eyes comes from nowhere else but concern.
You pout up at him as you trace your fingers over the scar of his right eye. “I know I’m nervous but I don’t want to stop.”
“Sweetheart,” he coos. “I just want you to be comfortable and I want you to know that it’s okay if you change your mind. I wouldn’t adore you any less if we stop here tonight.”
Tears well up in your eyes as you try to fight them from rolling down your cheeks. His words truly touch you. There’s no one in this world that you adore more than him. You were certain you wanted to continue with him but after his reassurance, you want him even more. You love this man so much. He’s your everything.
You take a deep breath, swallowing back the lump in your throat and bringing your other hand up to cradle both of his cheeks. He looks you in the eyes with intensity. “I want to experience this with you,” you say softly. “I trust and love you with everything that I am.”
He looks at you with so much adoration, tenderness and like you’re a goddess. As if you’re meant to be worshipped and held with the utmost reverence. It has your cheeks heat up, but it also warms your heart, making you feel a lot less nervous.
He then leans down to enwrap your mouth with his, kissing you deeply as he cups your face. Your legs tighten around his hips, pushing him closer against your body. You can feel his hard cock against your core as it strains against the confines of his underwear, sending another hot flash of arousal through you.
Taking a leap of faith, you trail your hands from his cheeks all the way down his torso until your fingers meet his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his boxers. Then your hands move to the band, as you tug at it.
Anakin watches you as all he can do is focus on your touch, and when he feels the still of your hands, he takes it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last remaining clothing off of him. He tosses it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.
Your breath hitches, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. A spark of heat shoots down to your clenching core as you imagine how he will fit or fill you. But it is also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.
Anakin chuckles as he moves back closer to you, as his lips chase your own, as he envelops you into another sweet but deep kiss. “What is this beautiful head of yours thinking?”
“H-how?” You say quietly as you stare at him.
Anakin laughs softly and you can’t help but pout up at him as you hear his soft laughter. “I promise, it will fit.” He reassures you quickly as his hand cups your cheek gently. “Don’t you worry my sweet girl.”
He guides himself into position, his tip poking slightly at your entrance and causing another surge of heat to course through your veins. He rests his forehead against yours, looking deeply into your eyes.
You smile and bite your lip as you roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, he glides his hips along with yours as he rubs against you.
“I love you,” you whisper as you nuzzle your nose against his, reaching up to place a soft kiss to his lips.
His eyes glow in the orange light with a soft, loving warmth. “I love you too.” He presses another sweet kiss to your lips.
The two of you kiss languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.
He holds his length in his hands as he keeps rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. Anakin loves the sounds you make as he spreads his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.
The thought of him finally entering you with his cock makes you wetter and turns you even more on. Anakin swallows your whines with his lips against yours, his hips rolling with yours. He kisses you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his. You writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.
“I’ll try to go slow, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your slit and your mind is all over the place.
“P-please, Anakin,” you stutter, your body trembling even more underneath him. “P-put it in, please?”
He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before he moves his dick teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine loudly out of frustration.
“Relax baby girl,” he whispers against your mouth.
You whimper in anticipation as his forehead touches yours. He nudges the tip of him against your hole, still slick with arousal. Your legs tremble underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Once he notches himself inside of you, a gasp elicits from the both of you.
You know it was just the tip of him, but you can’t help but feel the stretch already. Anakin slides in so slowly it’s agonising. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big.
You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whine underneath him. He pants along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stings, but his pace keeps it bearable. He guides himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you are digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.
His hips still instantly once he hears the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears begin to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings coursing through you.
“Doing so good for me baby,” he praises as he peppers your face with soft kisses. “You’re doing amazing.”
“Please,” you whimper as your eyes flutter close.
He continues to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you’re able to relax more into it. You whimper, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls flutter around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.
“Such a good girl,” he grunts softly. You think there isn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you feel your heat get even more wet.
Once he bottoms out, a soft gasp slips past your lips as his tip kisses your cervix. The tears that lingered at your eyes are now falling freely down your cheeks. You feel so full and relieved as he stills against you. Your walls involuntarily flutter around him, getting used to his size. Anakin’s soft lips are on your forehead, leaving soft kisses and whispering sweet nothings and words of encouragement.
You take your time, your eyes slowly opening once you’re ready. As you open your eyes unhurriedly, Anakin is already staring down at you with an intense concern. “I’m fine,” you promise with a pant, nodding as you look at him. “It’s just, a lot.”
As you feel yourself adjust to his size, you realise how full you feel. So full, as if he is made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars.
You need more.
He groans as you clench around him, and you note the twitch of restraint in his focused brow. “Ani, you can move,” you whisper, bringing a shaky hand up to push the curls that fell before his eyes and off his forehead.
He looks at you with a tender look, before he moans after you squeeze around his girth and tilt your hips to invite him to move. He wets his lips before he moves slow and deep. His thrusts start as gentle rocks of his hips, never pulling too far in or out, just enough to feel every movement. The sting hurts for a moment, but it easily morphs into a more pleasurable feeling as he continues to move against you.
Slowly, you are getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulls out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. The angle is so good, gradually he picks up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucks into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin is being heard in the room.
Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.
“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispers against your skin as he moves to nuzzle his face against your neck.
Soft grunts fall from Anakin’s lips whenever he hits a specific deep spot inside you. You whimper as his lips move back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. He snakes one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubs two fingers over the sensitive nub.
At a certain point you feel him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circle your clit, it has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the pleasure he is providing you. The whimpers that fall off your lips become higher pitched as he picks up his pace.
“Feeling good baby?” He moans, as his lips curl into a soft smile while he can’t help but admire the way your face contorts in pure pleasure. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continues to come out of his mouth as he fucks you. “This pussy was made for me.”
His mouth covers your own instead as he swallows all your little noises of pleasure, you can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.
Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increase as ecstasy and warmth overwhelm your senses.
His hands can’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimper at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Anakin’s hips. He can feel it too, in the way you clench and squeeze at his length, and he starts to drive even harder into your heat as he tilts his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hopes will blow your mind.
Your arms tremble as they wrap around him, your nails digging in his back making him groan on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, is tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”
“Please…” you moan as you think about him filling you up. “Please Ani, baby, fill this pussy up.”
He grunts as he buries his face into your neck as he fucks into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.
“You want to cum sweetheart?”
You nod frantically at his words while your eyes flutter close as you bite your lip harshly. You're bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moves back to your clit as another comes to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubs your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.
“Cum for me, kitten.” Anakin demands softly.
And when he finally nudges against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you're exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, crying out his name. Blood is rushing so wildly in your ears that you can't possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolls back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under him.
Anakin groans in your ear as your walls spasm and pulse around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Fuck,“ he moans, pushing himself up as he thrusts deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”
You’re still in a daze but you’re still able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezes around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”
He moves his hips sloppily before he groans loudly, as he finally cums inside you. The warmth of his seed fills you up and spreads within your walls. You whimper at the feel of his cum dripping out of you once he pulls out.
It's a blurry haze when you come back to your senses, your whole body is aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it is energised, and you don't bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.
Once both of you caught your breaths, Anakin leans his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
“That was…” He breathes, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.
“Oh yeah, that was amazing.” Your voice comes out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you clear your throat gently before you smile up at him.
Your skin is sweaty and sticky but he doesn't seem to care, pulling you closer and running his hands over any piece of skin he can find, still in awe at how amazing you looked coming apart beneath him— all because of him.
You’re overwhelmed with so much love and adoration as you look at him. Both of your hands come up to cup his cheeks before you pull him down again for another sweet and slow kiss.
Suddenly his body shakes above yours as he chuckles. You pull away from his lips as you look at him with a confused grin. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m thankful everyone made sure that we would be sharing a room together.” He says before laughing as you look at him with a surprised expression on your face.
“Oh my god. You think they set us up?” Your eyes widen and you gasp as realisation hits you.
“I don’t just think so, I’m very certain of this.” He continues between chuckles. “In fact, I’m pretty sure some of them even bet on us.”
“They did not!” You gasp dramatically before you giggle along with him.
“They sure did,” he smirks as you continue to laugh softly underneath him. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, “we have to clean you up.” Anakin mumbles as his fingers trace down your sides causing you to shiver and close your eyes.
“Later, I’m tired,” you murmur back whiningly.
With a low laugh he picks you up, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You’re about to complain that you can walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you feel sore and your legs feel numb.
He reaches the bathroom, he then sits you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you by adding in your favourite bath bomb, to make a bubble bath. You can’t believe he brought your fave bath bomb along on this trip. It brings a smile to your face. Once the bath is warm and semi filled, he picks you up again and helps you in the tub and you close your eyes, feeling your muscles relax quickly, basking in the warmth and comfort of the bath.
“Ani?” You question, hoping that he’s still in the room.
“Yes, my princess?” He says softly.
Your eyes flutter open and you see him sitting next to the end of the tub. “Can you please, join me?” You whisper timidly.
“Of course, angel.” Anakin smiles before he stands up.
You look up at him as you scoot towards the middle of the tub, leaving him some space to slip behind you. Anakin slips one foot in as you scoot further away to allow him to comfortably move himself into the bath.
His arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You sigh happily as you lean your body against his.
“I love you,” he whispers against your ear as he presses soft kisses down your neck. You smile as you melt in his embrace.
“I love you too.”
For a while, you stay like this, enjoying each other’s warmth and company.
Until,
“You think they heard us?”
“Ani!” You hit his arm playfully. “I was enjoying the calm and our moment together.”
He chuckles as he shrugs against you. “I am serious.”
“Yeah sure,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Was that sarcasm? Because I can be serious.” He laughs as he pinches your side teasingly. “Very serious.”
You squeak at the pinch, soon morphing into giggles as he tickles you. “No!” you gasp as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.
You continue to giggle as you feel his fingers trace against your sides, knowing that is where you’re ticklish.
“No! Stop! This isn’t fair,” you say as you try to gasp for air while still laughing, “you know that I’m sensitive here.”
“You know what’s not fair? Making fun of your boyfriend who is trying to be very serious.”
You gasp dramatically, “that’s not true and you know it!”
“I’ll stop when you promise to stop laughing.” Anakin says, as he grabs your waist.
“Okay, okay! I’ll stop. But I can’t stop laughing when you keep touching me like this.” You close your eyes and giggle as he’s still tracing the sides of your body.
Anakin hums as he stops his movements, his arms wrapping around your waist instead, pulling you flush against him again.
You sigh relieved when you’re not feeling ticklish anymore.
He brings one of his hands up to your cheeks, moving your face right up to level with his lips a mere breath away. “Even when you’re laughing at me, you’re still the sexiest and most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
His lips then envelop yours in a soft and gentle kiss.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.
Shuffling closer into him in the water, you press your naked body against his. Easily, your legs tangle together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you.
“I love you too.”
And that’s how the rest of the night goes, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoy each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melt in his embrace.
#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin smut#anakin skywalker x reader smut#modern!anakin#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x you#star wars anakin#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker x female reader#anakin skywalker x y/n#star wars x reader#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#star wars x you#anakin skywalker fluff#star wars x y/n#star wars#my writing
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New World
crownprince!hongjoong x royalphysician!reader
psychopath power hungry prince hj x psychopath delulu spy doctor reader who kill (literally) for each other
dni if you're not comfortable with this trope.
word count: 27k
genres and warnings: unhinged fluff only, angst, smut (mdni!) they're both pyschopaths, morally black atp, skewed thinking, violence and murder warnings, manipulation at its finest, reader is a bit delulu but so is joong, kinda tragic
synopsis: you've always known the crown prince was just a little power hungry, however, when you offer to kill the king for him as part of your big scheme to end the monarchy, you didn't realise he'd be ecstatic about it. while you etch out an elaborate plan to get more obstacles out of the way, you start enjoying his company just a little too much. it ultimately clouds your judgement and becomes the cause of your downfall, though... if you go down, he goes down with you :D
manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (just two simps for dom hongjoong what's new)
Red might just be your favourite colour.
Red was the colour of blood. Red was the colour of anger, desire and power. Red was the colour of the loveliest roses that decorated this castle, and red was the colour of Wonderland’s flag. Red was the colour of the badge that the soldiers wore at all times, as well as the colour of rubies that were your favourite stone and a staple of royal jewellery.
Red was also the colour of royal regalia. And oh, Prince Hongjoong absolutely owned that colour. It looked like red was made for him. Everything he did was red. His actions, his aura, his charms, they exuded red. The way he walked, the way he laughed or smirked, the way his expressions would change in a matter of milliseconds… everything was red. He breathed in that colour and made it his own.
Red just so happened to be the colour that clear drug now turned into when you added a few drops of the new opium compound you had gotten your hands on when you went shopping in the black market. As the royal physician, you had the privilege of accessing the black market without repercussions, so you got a little of everything that would be considered ‘dangerous’ or ‘illegal’. Your sole duty as the royal physician was to make advances in medicine and make sure the royalty remained healthy.
Though… there wasn’t much left to worry about. The Queen had passed away when you were still an assistant a few years ago. The King, well, he was unfortunate enough to be suffering from a heart condition. You did everything in your power (though that could be argued) to keep his pain and suffering at bay but with each passing day, his health deteriorated even more.
And that left Prince Hongjoong- the young crown prince, loved by some but feared by all. With his striking platinum hair and a permanent glare, he was as cold as he appeared to be. The man only cared about swiftness and rationality in each decision he made, disregarding the suffering of his people and their woes. He claimed that a ruler had to be strict and authoritative for his kingdom to prosper, and his ideology had always conflicted with his father's, which was why the people of Wonderland dreaded the day when the King would pass away and the Crown Prince would take over.
You smiled to yourself as the solution became red, confirming that it worked. You had just mixed a few ingredients to make a new pain reliever. You only needed to test it out now-
And who better to test it on than the dying King? Sure, maybe it was too strong, in which case he would probably succumb to numbness and his breathing might stop. He had one foot in the grave anyway. But if it worked, he would probably grace you with more privileges. It was a win-win situation.
You didn’t hate the King, no. In fact, he trusted you a lot- maybe a bit more than he should. He had recognised how brilliant a physician and researcher you were early in your career and had appointed you as the royal physician himself. He depended on you a lot, as you did on him, and his fatherly affection sometimes almost made you crack and forget what you really wanted.
What you really wanted was to see the crown prince become the king, even if it was just for a day. You wanted to be the person to make it happen for him. You wanted to be trusted by him and you wanted him to depend on you. You wanted to be the person that would lead him to the crown that was rightfully his. You wanted to fulfil his deepest desire- you wanted him to rule, even if only for a day.
Because then, you would take the final step and free the Kingdom of Wonderland from its last-standing tyrannical ruler.
But the King- the old man. He just wouldn’t die. And that was making the both of you frustrated.
As you poured the new drug in a vial, signing the register to record today’s progress, you put the vial in the first-aid box and took off your apron, hanging it on the knob next to the shelves that lined the walls of your workshop. You straightened your deep green velvet gown and made sure the pearls adorning your neck looked perfect. Tucking some stray hair behind your ears and smirking at your reflection, pleased with the way you looked tonight, you picked up the box and left the medical chamber, walking towards the residential section of the castle where the royalty resided.
The King hated staying in the infirmary so you had fulfilled his wishes and created a setup in his bedroom. Your assistants looked after him throughout the day and you would drop by multiple times to check on him, hoping to get a sight of the painfully handsome prince.
Sometimes, you caught the Prince lounging with a book or a smoke, or swirling the wine in his glass. It sparked red in you- red for desire. You weren’t sure if that desire inside you was for him or his position or power- or the desire to simply end him as planned by the Master and move to the next phase of your life- but oh, how you wished he would look at you with something other than contempt in his eyes. You knew he disliked you because you were prolonging his father’s life and preventing him from taking the crown.
You were. You were doing exactly that. You wouldn’t kill the King until he would really look at you. You couldn’t simply tell him that, so you would have to take a risk that could end up with your head in the lunette, ready for execution.
You greeted the royal guards before you knocked on the door of the main chamber and the Prince’s aide, Mingi, opened the door and let you in.
“Good evening, Doctor,” the tall man let you in with a smile and you bowed in greeting before you entered, glancing around the living room for any signs of the prince but finding none. Mingi shut the door behind you and with a nod, you went towards the king’s bedroom, knocking before entering.
The old man was reading some reports, round glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Even though he looked pale and his eyes looked lifeless, he looked as posh as ever with his greying hair neatly combed back and face freshly shaven. Upon noticing you, he set the reports aside and greeted you with a smile.
“How do you do, Doctor?” He asked and you pulled the stool near him, settling down.
“Just the usual, but I have some good news for you,” you said and when his face lit up, you shook your head. “You must tell me how you’ve been feeling first.”
“Well… I think the pain wasn’t as bad today, but I still can’t seem to walk around too much. I lose my breath too quickly.”
“I might have something for that,” you said. Routinely, he extended his wrist and you checked his pulse, listened to his heart with a stethoscope and checked his eyes. After making sure his vitals were normal, you told him about the new drug.
“It is an opium compound, so I’m not sure how different it will be, but I hope it will get better rather than worse.”
“Can’t get any worse than this,” the King sighed and you almost tsk-ed.
“It can get worse, but I’m here to prevent that,” you assured and the King nodded. “There is a risk factor, though.”
“And like always, I’ll take it,” he agreed, sitting straighter. After administering his routine medicines and skipping the ones that could hinder this new drug’s effect, you made him drink a spoonful of the red liquid. His mouth contorted as the bitterness of the drug spread across his tongue and then he took a deep breath.
“I’ll have the nurses monitoring the effects of this drug tonight, but if anything feels strange, you can have the guards send a message to me.”
“Thank you,” the King said and you bowed, exiting his room and making a turn-
And almost bumping into none other than the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince Hongjoong, looking regal even in his plain black silk nightwear. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and you bowed in greeting, stepping aside and about to leave when he cleared his throat, making you stop.
“How is the King’s condition?”
You smirked internally before turning to face him. “Not better… not worse either.”
Prince Hongjoong narrowed his eyes and you sighed. “It’s because the drugs won’t work. I’ve administered a new one tonight, and I have hopes.”
What kind of hopes, he didn’t need to know.
“You always say that, yet my father is still bedridden.”
You noted his use of the term ‘father’. He always employed that term carefully, and you weren’t sure if anyone else had noticed that.
“Well, it’s a bit… risky this time,” you began, testing the waters and when he raised his brow in curiosity, you knew you had him. “He might get worse before he gets better. Or… he may never recover if it doesn’t suit him.”
“Yet you still administered that drug to the King?”
There. He was now ‘the King’.
“The King,” you began, emphasising the word, “took a leap of faith in me and the drug if that means he could get better one day.”
The Prince nodded in understanding, about to go to his room.
“However,” you said in a low voice, looking around to make sure no one was in sight. Hongjoong turned to hear the rest of it, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of concealment.
You took a few steps forward- tonight, the wheels of your big plan would start to turn. You purposely stepped a little closer than he would have liked and whispered, “I’ll tell you- the King shouldn’t be taking such risks at his age, and with his condition.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Hongjoong asked in a whisper as if what you had shared was a secret.
You only shrugged, feigning innocence. “Who knows? If you really want answers though… maybe you could let me access the private library first.”
With that, you bowed and left, leaving the prince baffled. He opened the door of his father’s bedroom just a fraction and saw his brows furrowed in pain as he rested, the nurse paying no attention and instead more focused on knitting.
Hongjoong went to his room and found himself going over the conversation he had with you over and over again. He couldn’t help but recall previous instances of when you told him- and only him, he had noted- how his father could get worse or better depending on the situation.
Were you actually intending to tell him that you had his health, even his life, in your control? Had he been too oblivious of his royal physician’s actions and words? Had he underestimated you? He knew you were a good doctor- you were a renowned physician throughout the Capital. But were you offering him the controls?
The private library- he wondered what you intended to find there. Maybe he would give you a chance to prove yourself to him. Hongjoong smirked into the night sky, peering down at his kingdom from the height- perhaps, you were the weapon he needed to wield in order to get to the throne.
And if you were…
Finally, the crown prince started to feel a new surge of hope and desire. Hope for the new world he wanted to create as soon as he could sit on the throne, and desire for that power.
Hongjoong saw red before his eyes as he shut them, letting the light breeze blow through his hair and caress his skin. He wasn’t sure if his grim laughter was echoing inside his head or being carried by the wind for the world to hear.
—------------------------------------
You were starting to wonder if your plan had not worked.
The past week, you simply checked on the King and kept administering the same new drug that you now called ‘ruby’. It was a bit ironic to call it ruby, you thought. Ruby was Wonderland’s staple stone and what better name for a drug that would end the life of Wonderland's king? It was a shame no one could share the sentiment- when your assistants asked why you called the drug ruby, you simply answered that it was because of the colour.
Prince Hongjoong seemed like he was avoiding you on purpose. Maybe he was not interested in what you had to offer. You were pretty sure he got the message- the King was at your mercy and could be at the Crown Prince’s mercy if he wished so. However, he didn’t acknowledge your presence the few times you crossed paths with him within the week. A small part in your brain said that maybe you had made a mistake and he was being cautious. Maybe you should have never revealed all of that- maybe you had doomed yourself. If he suspected you of foul play, he could have you executed for treason. Maybe the Hongjoong did possess a functioning heart under all those layers of thorns. Yours had long been numb.
But maybe, just maybe, he was weighing his options. Could he trust you, the royal physician, a respectable doctor and medical researcher? Were you planning a trap for him- was it the King’s doing? Did the King suspect that his son really wanted him dead? Did one of his uncles, the Dukes, plant you here as a spy? They were interested in the throne- at least the older one of them, the Duke of Neverland Prince Woobin, was.
And why did you need to access the private library anyway? That was what kept nagging at Hongjoong’s mind. The private library was not attached to the main library but was located in the part of the castle that accommodated the royal residents. The only people allowed to access that library were those of royal blood. It mostly held archives related to court orders and the royal family history. Whatever could a doctor need in there?
With all these thoughts plaguing the prince’s mind, he found himself making way to the medical chamber after dinner accompanied by his aide, Mingi. Mingi asked if he was feeling alright but Hongjoong only said he wanted to ask you a few things regarding his father’s medication and that he was hoping to get something for his own insomnia. That relaxed his aide a bit- Mingi had been by Hongjoong’s side for a solid decade now and while they shared the same opinions on many things, Hongjoong still wasn’t sure if Mingi really agreed with his political views.
Hongjoong dreamt of big things. He was a dreamer and a doer, which he supposed was not an odd combination but a rare one- people usually had to give up one or the other. He, however, was not going to bow to this world- the world was going to bow to him. That was the world he aimed to create where he would be the ruler, where he would allow people to dream within his constraints. To him, there was no such thing as freedom. Freedom was simply a word to fool people into believing that they possessed the right and control over their life. Sure, Hongjoong was a slave to this word too. He dreamed to be free-
Free of the title of crown prince. Free of the title prince. He abhorred that word now- he wanted to be the king. He wanted the freedom to rule. And you- you had just offered him a shortcut, if he was right about this.
Hongjoong was greeted by a few doctors at the workshop, the three of them moving around nervously and almost tripping on each other as they straightened and asked what brought the Prince all the way to the medical chambers- he could have sent a message. Hongjoong said he simply wanted to observe and check the progress of his doctors. One of them offered to take him to you, to his relief, and he followed the physician to the other end of the workshop which led to the room right next to the storage.
“That’s where the Head Physician usually works- she prefers a corner so she can experiment in peace- and it’s also to avoid involving others in any possible accidents,” the physician said, fiddling with his fingers as Hongjoong nodded. “I- I’ll alert her.”
Hongjoong watched with intrigue as the young physician carefully turned the knob so as to not make a single sound and slipped inside with light footsteps. Hongjoong peeked through the gap and realised you had your back against them. The physician waited for you to set all the equipment in your hands on the table before he cleared his throat and you turned to him.
“The Prince is here to uh, see you- your progress.”
“The Prince,” you breathed, your gaze going towards the door and you thought you spotted the familiar blonde hair. “Where is he?”
“Right outside.”
“Goodness, Jeongin, let him in then, don’t keep him waiting!” your eyes widened as you shooed the physician away and with the few seconds you had, you rubbed the stains on your hands and cleared the table in front of you.
“Doctor,” his voice sounded, the door clicking behind him as Jeongin gave you both some space.
“Your Highness,” you curtsied, your heart beating erratically and a bit too loudly- this was the first time you were in private with the Prince, after all. “What brings you here?”
“Just thought I’d check up on you,” the Prince narrowed his eyes as he walked past the counter with various vials of drugs and medicine arranged on them. He stopped near the ruby red liquid that he now recognised as his father’s recent prescription. “Any progress regarding the King’s health?”
“Surprisingly, he’s getting adjusted to the low doses quite well,” you said, noting the tiniest twitch of his facial muscles. “I will start increasing the dose in two days and see how he responds.”
“You mentioned a risk last time,” he raised his brow slightly as he locked eyes with you, seating himself on the very stool you had been sitting on just earlier. The proximity made you restrain a shiver, the cold countertop digging at your back providing a sense of relief in the form of familiarity. “I’d like you to elaborate.”
Got him.
Suppressing a smile, you obeyed. “Usually, I gradually increase the dosage and see how the King’s body reacts. The heart… it is a complicated organ and there are a lot of factors that can influence the working of the drug. Sometimes, the body ‘rejects’ a medicine which means we can’t have the patient take that anymore. The rejection can be due to age or some other factors.”
“And this new drug- ruby, you’re calling it?” Hongjoong asked, gaze darting over where the red vial was. “What’s so special about this?”
“Well,” you took a moment to find the right words to answer. “It’s more of a drug than a medicine, for starters. Addiction might be a side-effect but before that, there’s more to worry about. His body may look like it’s adapting and then all of a sudden, it could reject the drug and his condition could get worse.”
“Will there be any signs to indicate such a thing?”
“I will answer that…” you leaned forward. “But first, I would like to access the private library.”
“And whatever would a royal physician find useful in the library?” The Prince asked, fiddling with the gold button on his black jacket. “It’s full of cobwebs and dust.”
“And a treasure of useful information,” you quipped.
The Prince gave you a threatening look and you sighed. “Alright, there are two reasons I want to access the library. I can only tell you one- that I want to check the family registers and private journals for any signs that this may be hereditary disease. That information is going to benefit you, and that’s my only purpose.”
“And the other reason?” He frowned, not really caring that you wanted to check for his sake. You supposed as a royal physician, it was your duty and he had nothing to be grateful for.
But your reason was still the same.
“I can’t tell you the other reason, because I’m not sure I’ll find anything about it and I don’t want to give you false hope,” you said and that got his attention. “But… if I do find something… you’re going to have to speed up the preparations for your coronation.”
Realisation dawned on Hongjoong’s face and he instinctively looked around before he stepped off the stool and walked towards you with heavy steps. “Do you hear yourself right now?”
“Loud and clear,” you smirked, taking off the mask because there was no need to show him anything but the truth now. “You want this. You want the throne, and I am your loyal subject. My only reason is to have you sit on the throne instead of one of the King’s brothers.”
Confidential information. How did the royal physician know that the King wanted to delay his son’s coronation and instead pass the hierarchy to one of his two brothers? The conflict between the King and Hongjoong was not news- they didn’t see eye to eye on many things and that was public knowledge. But how did you know all of that?
Or was it so obvious, Hongjoong wondered, that the King did not want his son to take over the throne so soon? If the whole world was against his coronation, why were you presenting yourself as a loyal subject?
“We’ll talk about this later,” the Prince said in a low voice, pointing his finger at you. It unsettled him to see you stand so sure before him. He opened his mouth to say more but couldn’t find the words.
“I’m just a tool for you to use as you please,” you gently lowered his finger, watching his eyes flicker with surprise. “And I’m only doing this for you. Keep that in mind. Have a good night, Your Highness.”
—-----------------------------------
A tool for him to use as he pleased.
And if you wanted to prove your loyalty so bad, he would use you. He would exhaust your services until you had nothing more to offer. But first, Hongjoong needed to find out just what was so interesting about the family tree that you were tracing your finger along the lines that marked his ancestry.
While you said nothing about him watching you from a distance like a hawk, when you opened one of the registers and your features twisted from concentration to satisfaction, he craned his neck to read the title.
“Why are you looking at the death registers?”
“So I can learn how the King can die,” you said, watching the confusion on his face change to intrigue. “And how to avoid it.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” the Prince said. “Are you really doing all of this to save the King?”
“I told you, but since we’re in private, we can talk more freely here,” you set the register on your lap, taking a deep breath. “So ask me whatever you want.”
“How did you know about the King considering one of my uncles to take over?”
“I have a few drugs that I sometimes slip in to make him talk,” you folded your arms. “And he’s quite a talker, your father.”
“How can you, a royal physician,” Hongjoong began, almost fuming at the thought, “abuse your power to make the King talk?”
“And why are you, the Crown Prince, not doing anything despite the knowledge of my medical malpractice? Clearly, you’re interested in what I have to offer.”
“I don’t need your loyalty,” Hongjoong shook his head, his platinum hair catching the moonlight through the patterned window behind him when he moved. “The throne belongs to me. Sooner or later, I will take over.”
“Unless your father announces that he likes the Duke of Neverland too much,” you countered. “Or the Duke of Mist Island. He may be a bit slow but he’s got better manners than you. Clearly you’re the least favourite.”
That was what made the Prince laugh mockingly. Though it was just him recovering from the blow that you delivered, you finally made him laugh and that was enough.
“So, Miss Doctor,” the Prince said almost tauntingly. “What are your recent findings?”
“You won’t be sending me for execution after, will you?” You asked jokingly, though a small part in your heart was scared that you were absolutely wrong about the Prince.
“That depends on the information I learn tonight,” he made himself clear. “I cannot have the royal physician murdering the King claiming that it was for the Crown Prince. Not a good look for me.”
You agreed, passing him the family tree and pointing at the death register. “These are the official medical records which are in the main library as well. But these parts-” you pointed at the red ink. “That’s information that was never made public. Abnormalities noticed during the treatment of your grandfather who suffered from the same disease as your father. Notice how opium was used for treatment for a few weeks?”
Hongjoong skimmed through the notes, finding an unnamed opium compound mentioned in the treatment section. “And what’s odd about opium being used as a medicine?”
“That they stopped within a few weeks but administered it again- look at how it’s scratched, but the symptoms I’m observing in your father now are similar to your grandfather’s even after they apparently stopped using this opium compound. I asked around and found out which ingredients were used and attempted to replicate this drug for your father. Ruby.”
“Ah,” Hongjoong nodded in realisation. “But why would they stop mentioning the drug- oh, they wouldn’t.”
The air suddenly felt grim as Hongjoong realised that there was a chance that medical malpractice or perhaps, bad intentions were what took his grandfather’s life. “Who was the royal physician at that time?”
“No longer alive,” you told him. “Otherwise I would have confronted him. I do suspect that he never recorded this because he was afraid he would be blamed for His Majesty’s death. There’s also the possibility that one of his sons had a hand in this, though your father was unfazed when I told him that I was treating him with opium.”
Hongjoong cracked his neck, an amused look on his face. “One of my uncles then, huh?”
“Just pure speculation, but my bet is on the doctor making a mistake and realising too late,” you told him.
“So, Doctor,” Hongjoong got up and walked ever so slowly around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. “What do you intend to do about this?”
“Well, now I know that the symptoms of this drug wreaking havoc on the body mimic natural symptoms of the disease, so even if the King keeps using this and, well, dies… I can blame it on his poor health.”
“What do you get out of crowning me?” The Prince whispered, bringing his hand up to hold you by the jaw and even though his grip was gentle as he tilted your face up, you could feel the power exuding from him anyway. It didn’t help that he looked absolutely ravishing like this and you could feel the flimsy shreds of self control falling apart by each second-
You needed to remember that you were here, that you were the Master’s spy, that you were doing this for the ultimate goal. To save Wonderland. You could not be distracted by something as mere as feelings.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I only want you to be the King?” You asked. “Is it so hard to believe that someone actually wants you to rule Wonderland with all their heart?”
“That makes no sense-”
“I want you,” you tested, a shiver running down your spine when his gaze darkened. “I want you to let me keep my post and let me make advances in medicine. I want you to fund my research and allow me to expand my network- even in the black market. I want you to cover me if I make a mistake and in return… I’ll be at your service, however you want. I will get rid of anyone you want.”
He could hear the sound of his heart thumping wildly between his ears. He could hear your breath and feel a whisper of it on his wrist. He could see the dangerous gleam in your eyes and he knew that you were a force to be reckoned with. How had he missed it? How did you appear so normal throughout all those years? He only ever suspected you of maybe fancying him because quite a few times, he had caught you watching him with something that resembled fascination, but now he was finding that it might be obsession.
A tool for him to use as he pleased. Someone who would do whatever he wants.
Though you weren’t sure if what you said was just a lie or you actually meant some part of it, it clearly had an effect on the Prince.
Hongjoong brought his thumb to caress the skin near your lips, watching you react under his touch. It was clear as day to him that you wanted him in more ways than you were letting on, perhaps more than even you yourself were aware of. He swiped his thumb across your lower lip, watching your mouth part and your gaze expectant.
Hongjoong kept his thumb pressed on your lip as he bent down to meet your eyes, his face inches away from yours. You held your breath, your heart doing little flips that made you want to crawl away from him. He stared at you for a few moments.
“You will do as I say, whenever I say, whatever I want. Is that clear?” He ordered and you nodded. “For now, you will keep administering ruby to keep the King alive. We don’t want his health to deteriorate all of a sudden. I want you to learn the King’s intentions- who he really wants to crown and for what reasons. I’ll only hear what comes out of his mouth, not your silly little speculations. Make him talk.”
“Understood… Your Highness.”
Hongjoong nodded slowly, trailing his finger down your chin and tracing the outline of your jaw, trailing it down the angle of your neck and leaving goosebumps along your skin. He locked eyes with you as if to dare you to stop him but you only sat still, though he could swear you bent back just a fraction to allow him better access. He played with the pearls on your neck for a moment, trailing his finger down the middle of your chest until they met your collar, dangerously close to the hollow between your breasts.
With a teasing look and a smirk on his lips, he pressed at that spot before backing away. You took a moment to calm down before you shut the registers and put them back on the shelves, agreeing to meet here the night after tomorrow again. As soon as you were in the darkness and comfort of your room, you slumped down on the bed, exhaling.
You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin. You could still feel his eyes boring into you. You could still feel the warmth of his breath caress your face.
And while you were overwhelmed with desire, there were more important matters at hand-
Finding out what the King wanted. You would make him talk and deliver the information to the Prince to prove your loyalty and service to him.
You could only hope he would really look at you and believe what you told him. That was necessary for your plan to actually work. You hoped he would think that all you wanted was to excel as a royal physician and medical researcher. You hoped he would understand that only he possessed the power to make that happen. And when he would let his guard down, that would be when you would strike.
You picked the mattress to move one of the bed planks, revealing a box that contained paper and ink. Using the clear ink on the sandy paper with a bluebird on the corner, you began to write the first message after months of silence.
“The arrow has escaped the bow and is flying towards the target, slowly but surely. The wielder should start preparing for the aftermath.”
—------------------------------------
“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” You asked, hand around his wrist to check his pulse, noting down the readings as he shuffled.
“Fine for the most part, but I feel lightheaded at times.”
“No changes in his diet?” You asked the nurse assigned to the King and she shook her head no. “Must be the drug then. Is it bearable?”
“For now,” the King confirmed, his eyes darting towards where his son stood at the corner of the room with his arms folded and a deadpan stare. The King shifted uncomfortably yet again and you shot a glare at the Prince which he caught, huffing and looking elsewhere. “Does he have to be present here?”
“Does he make you uncomfortable?” You asked nonchalantly, comparing your readings with the last few days and noticing a pattern. “He’s worried about your health.”
The King grunted. “As if.”
“More worried than your brothers you adore so much,” the Prince mocked. “I don’t see them inquiring about your health. At all.”
“Aren’t you just waiting to hear bad news?” The King asked and when Hongjoong was about to retort, you raised your hand in the air.
“I would appreciate it if you don’t rile him up, Prince Hongjoong,” you said politely. “Your Majesty, you should avoid stressing about your health so much. Have you been taking your morning walks?”
The nurse cleared her throat and you looked at her. “He’s missed two days in a row.”
You turned to look at the King who appeared guilty. “I’m feeling sluggish lately. It’s harder to get up in the morning.”
You noted that- could this be ruby’s doing? Shutting your register, you got up and talked to the nurse while the father and son argued a bit more about the Prince’s unusual presence and the King’s unusual love for his brothers. When you took your leave, the Prince accompanied you all the way to the main door and just when you were about to leave, he looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.
“I thought I asked you to keep the King healthy-”
You clicked your tongue and grabbed his wrist to pull him to your right so the nurse who just exited the King’s room wouldn’t notice the look on the Prince’s face. “Can you be more obvious? We shouldn’t be talking about this here- and it’s not my doing, by the way.”
The Prince looked at you with scepticism and before he could snatch his wrist from your grip, you let go of it yourself. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he formed a response.
“We’ll talk about this later,” the Prince promised almost threateningly and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Tonight. Library. Mingi will accompany you.”
You huffed in response, glancing at his aide who came to inspect what the noise was about. Bowing mockingly, you exited the chamber and made way towards your room near the medical chamber.
You were about to make a turn to the left when you bumped into a guard who was carrying some documents and you apologised, squatting down to pick up the pages that he dropped. While collecting them and exchanging more apologies, you thought you spotted a familiar stamp but the guard was immediately on his way after thanking you. You took only two steps before you realised-
It was the bluebird stamp.
You kept walking, the Master’s bitter tone ringing in your ears reminding you to keep moving forwards and remain unfazed. It took a lot of effort to keep a straight face because after months of radio silence, you finally saw a sign that the bluebirds were here. They were in the castle and they had not abandoned you.
However, when you picked your mattress to take out the box and saw a letter inside, the contents of the letter made sweat ooze out of your pores even when you felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. You were once again reminded that the bluebirds were a very extensive network with eyes and ears everywhere.
But how did they know what happened inside the private library? You and Hongjoong were the only ones present. The short message in the letter seemed to suggest as if they had taken a peek inside your heart at your most vulnerable moment.
“Do not lose sight of the real target. Do not get distracted. Pleasure is temporary. Freedom can be eternal.”
The two hours that you waited for the Prince’s aide to knock on the door had to be the longest of your life. You simply sat on the chair biting your nails unceremoniously as you tried to figure out just who in the castle or the Prince’s closest companions could be the part of the rebel group that was the core of your identity.
The bluebirds, trained by one Master whose face had always been hidden behind a mask, whose voice was a command itself. Your parents were a part of that group, but you could hardly call them parents because as soon as you were able to walk on your own and think without guidance, your training started. You learned the art of disguise, trickery and manipulation. You learned science and medicine until you started achieving things on your own. You were no one special, though. You were just another spy who was in the castle, disguised as someone of importance. Any doubts about you being alone in the castle were gone now.
You were wondering if the Prince was aware of the existence of your group- it was a secret underground rebel group but it had been active for decades now. The bluebirds were slowly but surely infiltrating the government bodies and were directly or indirectly responsible for some of the major policies that influenced the kingdom.
When the knock sounded on the door, you sighed in relief and got up to open the door to Mingi and you greeted him with a nod, grabbing your keys and locking the room behind you. He accompanied you to the royal chamber in silence until you were almost there and he cleared his throat.
“Is there a reason you have to access the private library so often?”
You narrowed your eyes purposely as he glanced at you. “Ask your prince? He doesn’t have to be present- I’m just looking for something that can help me with the King’s treatment.”
“Are you sure you’ll find that there?” He asked, taking a turn towards the corridor that led to the library. “I mean… have you looked in the main library?”
“Yes, and yes,” you said. “I’ve gone through everything before asking the Prince for permission to access the private library.”
“If you’re looking for medical related stuff, you should look for the archives in the public library here in the Capital too,” Mingi suggested and you perked up at that. “Anything of importance that is no longer in the castle can be found there.”
“If it is of importance, why would it be no longer in the castle?” You wondered.
“Rebels used to raid libraries about twenty years ago, if you remember your history,” Mingi answered. “Whatever was recovered went to the public library instead of back here.”
Now that was something you had not been aware of. If important archives and documents had been stolen, why were they at the public library instead of at the castle? And more importantly, was it the bluebirds that carried out these attacks? If it was the bluebirds, why had no one told you? You could have visited the public library with ease any time.
“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure to visit the public library the next time I step out of the castle.”
Mingi smiled in response and extracted a key out of his pocket, unlocking the wooden carved door that opened to the library. “The Prince is inside. I’ll be on my way then.”
You nodded and stepped inside the dark room, letting the aide shut the door behind him as he left. You walked towards the window which was the only source of light- did the Prince not bother lighting any candles while he was inside-
There was a sole candle on the table where you had sat a few nights ago with Hongjoong when you checked the family tree. Hongjoong was nowhere to be found though, so you started walking past the shelves, looking to spot the man-
And trying your hardest to swallow a scream when he appeared out of nowhere, though he was quick to grab your arms to avoid a collision.
“Easy there,” he said, sounding amused. Probably because you were positive all the colour left your face.
Well, if it had, it sure returned with a flush when you noticed how close you were to the Prince and how human he looked in the moonlight now that he wasn’t wearing his permanent scowl and his hair wasn’t styled to perfection. The tendrils falling on his forehead over his eyes created a soft look. It wasn’t always that the Prince looked anything less than menacing so you got a good look at him before wriggling away.
“Sorry, but you could have lit a few more candles. It’s pretty dark here.”
“We avoid candles. Don’t want to risk a fire, which is why it’s usually optimal to access this room when the sun is out.”
“Can’t go around scheming during the day though, can we?” You said casually though the comment made the Prince chuckle darkly. It looked like he was finally coming to terms with you- and himself.
“Doesn’t seem like the daytime would be a hindrance for you,” the Prince put his hands in the pockets of the black slacks he was wearing. “Did you switch the drug? Why is the King feeling off?”
“I need to research a bit more to answer that,” you folded your arms. “I don’t control the way his body reacts to the drug. If it seems like ruby will deteriorate his health at a rapid pace, I might have to stop administering that drug to him.”
“Lower the dose then,” he ordered. “Or do you have a better alternative?”
“A better alternative to what?” You dared to ask, earning an annoyed look. “Do you want the King alive and healthy for as long as possible?”
Hongjoong cocked his head- did you really want to hear it from his mouth?
“Or… do you want his health to decline such that it would seem natural?” You scoffed at the way he glared at you. “Surely, you must have made up your mind by now.”
“I asked you to keep the King healthy,” he practically spat. “And I asked you to make him talk.”
“I think he dislikes your presence a little too much, Prince,” you snickered. “I actually slipped a few drops of verita tonight. A harmless little thing, only makes you a bit hazy so that you start saying things you wouldn’t otherwise. And oh, the only thing he had to say was that you’re just waiting for him to die.”
“Yeah, well, that is the sad truth,” he said mockingly, glancing towards the window. “He won’t talk in front of me. I suspected that.”
“Looks like you’re stuck with me then,” you said, moving past him to go to the last shelf which contained the rest of the medical records of the royal family that you hadn’t had the chance to access yet. “I do think he’s aware that he doesn’t have much time. Isn’t the Duke of Neverland visiting soon?”
“Next week, yes. Bet he’ll be over the clouds to see my father dying especially when he learns that he’s in his good graces.”
“Well… that’s how I’m here to help,” you glanced at him. “I was thinking… your father was the crown prince, which means he probably didn’t visit your grandfather much when he was ill. He must have been too busy trying to keep the kingdom stable and running.”
“That’s right,” Hongjoong agreed. “I recall my grandfather complaining how he never made time for him.”
“And it’s a known fact that the Duke of Neverland tried to snatch the title of crown prince. Tried to coerce his father. Didn’t work, did it?”
“He was let off with a warning, and now he’s after me.”
“He must have visited your grandfather a lot then,” you brought the medical register that you had checked a few nights ago back to the table. “The royal physician who treated your grandfather is no longer alive, but the Duke of Neverland must know something about the treatment. You have to keep an eye on him and watch his reaction carefully when it is revealed that ruby is being used to treat the King.”
Hongjoong frowned. “Do you suspect that he had something to do with it?”
“I do,” you admitted. “Especially because he’s been coveting your title. He might have meddled with the late King’s treatment- it’s just an assumption for now, but it is strange how the late King suddenly passed away.”
The Prince nodded slowly and you could see that he was trying to connect the dots. You cleared your throat, catching his attention.
“I also plan to visit the public library in the city soon. Your aide Mingi told me that I may find something of importance there.”
Hongjoong wasn’t surprised to hear that so you figured they must have discussed something. “He’ll accompany you on that visit.”
“Alright,” you said, getting up to find more books and records on the royal bloodline’s medical history.
Time passed by quickly even though you found little to nothing of interest, but it looked like the seed of doubt had been planted because the Prince seemed to be deep in thought as he kept glancing at the page you had pointed to- the word ‘opium’ scratched over and over as if someone had tried to erase the evidence of it. You smiled to yourself- the plan seemed to be working.
Though you kept one eye on the Prince, you became distracted by a book on alchemy that seemed to be annotated by the royal physician during the time of the King’s grandfather. You flipped through the pages, mouth parted in surprise and awe at the dedication and effort of the royal physician- he seemed to have created the blueprint for most of the drugs that were now commonly supplied throughout Wonderland, and that was a remarkable feat.
You almost didn’t hear the Prince until he was right behind you and you jumped a little when he rested a hand on your shoulder to let him take a peek at what you were reading. When he noticed the surprise on your face, he smirked.
“What’s got you so busy and immersed that you didn’t notice my presence?”
“Sorry, uh,” you collected yourself, sliding away just a fraction but he seemed to have caught that- he caught everything. “Notes from the royal physician during your great grandfather’s time. He’s a figure we doctors look up to a lot.”
Hongjoong flipped through the pages, book still in your hand. “Have you always wanted to become a doctor?”
A question so simple yet you had never been asked before. Your brows rose momentarily as you processed the question, trying not to lose yourself in the spiral of what the real answer was- that no. You never wanted to become a doctor. It was just something you taught yourself to love- or something you pretend to love so you don’t forget why you’re here-
“Is it such a difficult question to answer?” He shrugged, taking the book from you so you would have no choice but to focus on him.
“I guess I just learned to love it when I found myself in this field,” you said. Probably the first honest thing you had shared with the Prince. “Have you always wanted to be the crown prince?”
Hongjoong laughed at that, caught by surprise at your sudden question and you found yourself joining- you had never heard the Crown Prince laugh like that- like a kid, unguarded. The Prince seemed to realise that too, though that didn’t stop him. You supposed that since it was only the two of you within the privacy of these four walls, he felt more at ease. And though the rational part in you told you that it was good that he was letting his guard down, your heart ached for some reason.
“I guess I learned to love it too?” He shrugged. “At some point, it becomes something you have to do rather than something you want to do.”
You nodded- you knew that all too well. “You’re doing this for the kingdom.”
“For the people,” he said. “The King hasn’t been making the best decisions regarding the kingdom ever since he got sick. The people- I know they aren’t fond of me, but they do not know how to run this kingdom. They think resuming trade with the bordering nations like the King plans to will help stabilise our economy.”
“I mean… a common man would think that you would save a lot from land routes instead of the sea routes.”
“But the common man is not aware that the King plans to impose more taxes and tariffs on his people,” Hongjoong told you as if letting you in on a secret- it was, except you were already aware. “And I think even if they find out, they will overlook that. In the long run, it will only create more problems and smuggling will become rampant. We barely managed to control that when we were recovering from the late King’s death.”
“But do you really care about the people?” You dared to question, relaxing when Hongjoong only passed you an amused look. “Or is it just because you want to prove something to your father and uncles?”
“Can’t it be a little bit of both?” He leaned against the shelf. “The people…” Hongjoong shook his head. “They say it’s only the people who suffer from the decisions we make. Is that really true though? Because I think they’re living a pretty pleasant life without worrying about making decisions of such magnitudes.”
“I guess the royal class suffers in their own way,” you scoffed. “Insomnia.”
“Insomnia can’t be classified as suffering anymore. It’s more of a bonus.”
You smiled at that- that was true. There wasn’t a royal who didn’t suffer from lack of sleep- or lack of good sleep. “Is there something that helps you sleep better at night? Apart from the prescriptions?”
“Overworking,” Hongjoong spread his arms to prove what he was doing right now instead of resting. “And… well. Other activities.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, wouldn’t you love to hear about that,” Hongjoong smiled suggestively and you were lost for a second before you almost choked, looking away to keep the flush creeping on your cheeks at bay. “Want to help me with that? Be my personal nurse?”
“Shut up,” you muttered, snatching the book from him and putting it back on the shelf, his dark chuckle echoing inside you. He leaned forward right at the moment that you were turning in his direction, the both of you surprised when you found your faces inches away from each other- you could almost see the flecks of brown in his dark orbs even in the faint moonlight.
Almost hastily, you took one step back at the same moment that he leaned forward, his eyes locked with yours. You raised a brow, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. The air was thick with tension, taking the form of something almost electric and tangible- you were sure if you mimicked his movements and leaned forward, you would combust.
The Prince slipped his tongue between his teeth in contemplation and your gaze fell there- a mistake, because you were so, so tempted to get a taste of those plush lips. If it wasn’t obvious to Hongjoong, you were curling in on yourself with each passing second as your heart and mind clashed with one another violently inside of you-
“Didn’t peg you as the shy type,” the Prince commented, barely a whisper.
“I’m not shy,” you retorted. “I’m just trying to find an answer as to why you keep crowding my personal space.”
“Ah, is that how it is now?” Hongjoong tsk-ed in disappointment, standing straight now. “Thought you liked it when I did that.”
You did. You couldn’t tell him that not because he couldn’t know, but because you were sure he would do something about it and that couldn’t end well for you.
“Looks like you’ll be up all night tonight then,” you scoffed, making the Prince laugh again. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Unlike you, I’m not a royal so I cannot sleep in or ditch my duties. Goodnight, Prince.”
Hongjoong only shook his head in amusement as he watched your figure disappear. The smile fell when you left and he went back to sit on the sofa, watching the moon from the window.
He was pretty sure you had an ulterior motive under the pretence that you were unquestionably loyal to him. There was no such thing as loyalty- a person was faithful as long as they were satisfied. Hongjoong knew that very well, so he wondered just what you were going to get out of killing the King and crowning him. It didn’t look like you wanted to sit on the throne with him, but he didn’t dismiss the possibility- you could simply just be very good at hiding your feelings.
But then… a smirk started creeping on Hongjoong’s lips as he recalled the way he got you flustered. It wasn’t his presence that got you all tense- it was when he flirted, that was clear to him now. However, you were putting up quite a fight-
And Hongjoong wasn’t one to back away from a fight. Plus… he really wanted to shut you up once.
And if getting in your good graces- if it could be called that- would get him some answers then he was going to make this enjoyable.
He just had to keep his guard up. And that wasn’t so hard, was it?
—--------------------------
It was becoming harder with each passing day to keep your guard up when you were with the Prince.
He was just as stubborn and hot-headed as ever, which was already something you had to deal with. He was especially jumpy since the Duke of Neverland seemed to have been attacked by a ‘rebel group’ on his way to the castle and had delayed his trip by a few days. The King was worrying too much about his brother and that annoyed the Crown Prince to bits. His frustration was obvious and everyone around him was having to deal with the aftermath.
And because he was so frustrated, he couldn’t sleep which meant that whenever you met up in the private library- not to read anymore but to talk and plan- he acted… different. You wondered if it was the lack of sleep that was making him lightheaded and outright flirtatious but it seemed to be just… Hongjoong being Hongjoong. And you weren’t sure how long you could keep joking around like this- turning him down by joking was what you had been doing actually.
It was the little things- he would sit in front of you only to overwhelm you with his stare, his eyes scanning you in a different manner than usual. He would purposely play with the edge of your skirt or if he was feeling a little daring, with your fingers while you chatted about medical history or politics. You tried your best to ignore it, especially since there was an obvious reason that you could not involve yourself with the Prince.
But with each passing day and each passing moment spent by the Prince’s side, you were wondering if it would be too bad to have just a little fun while you carried out your plan. And if you looked at the bigger picture, it could help you carry out your plan and perhaps benefit you in ways you hadn’t ever considered before.
It would also be a slap on the Master’s face. The Master who had overseen your training and told you that all you were was just a piece in the puzzle he was playing. In your whole life, even at the castle, whenever you were about to make a decision of your own, he would send a sign and hold your invisible reins back- just like when you saw one of the guards with the bluebird stamp. It was always a warning that came out of the Master’s mouth and never a word of encouragement or affirmation that you were on the right path and that your efforts were commendable.
You had dedicated your whole life to the cause of the bluebirds- to end the monarchy, once and for all. It had been attempted in the past but never successfully, and you supposed it was because the previous rulers had been wise enough to dismiss internal conflict so they could focus on the external threats from the bluebirds. However, after decades, there was finally enough internal conflict to narrow the royals’ visions. They would not see it coming. There were many key players in this plan, in the light and in the shadows- but you were aware that you were the wild card of this game.
And if you succeeded, which you were bound to from the looks of it so far, the monarchy would end- there would be no one of royal blood left to rule, and before someone else could take over, the other players would make sure that the system of monarchy would collapse and democracy would be established. Once that was done, the people would finally have a taste of true freedom. It was going to be a very tragic end for the royal bloodline, and if you were going to play a part in it…
Would it be too wrong to have some fun and have him think that you actually liked him? Though if you started pondering on the matter, you didn’t have an answer- you were confused. But it was becoming harder to reject his subtle advances and you weren’t sure how long you could hold your fort, so why not let him think he had the upper hand?
“You’re staring, sweetheart.”
It didn’t help when he called you sweetheart or kitten or something equally stupid (and something that strangely tugged at your heartstrings). You quite liked hearing such terms from his mouth and you wanted to hear him say a lot more-
“Drooling, now.”
“There’s just a strange insect near your ear-”
The terrified face the Prince made as he swatted wildly near both his ears made you choke down your laugh but when he finally realised you were joking, you laughed wholeheartedly, clapping your hands in disbelief while Hongjoong recovered from the surprise and embarrassment.
“Do you have a death wish?” He growled, shaking his head and you wiped the tears in your eyes, noticing that he was almost smiling now.
“Do you have a death wish?” You countered. “I wasn’t staring, neither was I drooling. I just… zoned out.”
“You were staring,” he insisted. “But I don’t blame you. I’m quite a sight for sore eyes, am I not?”
“Totally,” you muttered, not daring to fuel him further lest he figure you out. You set the vials in your hands aside, getting up to grab the washcloth and clean the counter. “If you’re going to make my lab your lounge, I must let you know that I’m not responsible if I ‘accidentally’ spill a chemical on you.”
“Yeah, this might not be the best place to get comfortable,” he sent you a suggestive look. “There are tons of abandoned rooms in the castle.”
“And you want me to give you company?” you wiped at a stubborn blue mark on the counter near the Prince’s hand. “Because we haven’t been doing anything, just coexisting in the same space. Sounds like someone has been lonely.”
When he didn’t respond, you glanced at him to find his expressions guarded. It strangely reminded you of yourself and you continued. “It’s alright. I’m not one to say, though I must admit I thought you had more people who you met eye to eye with.”
“Well, you’re the only one who knows my wicked intentions,” he scoffed. “I might have to get rid of you for that.”
“No wonder you have no friends,” you made a face, taking off your apron and going to wash your hands in the sink. “I thought you appreciated that I was willing to kill for you.”
“You know, I really don’t get it,” Hongjoong got up, walking towards the other counter where you were drying your hands. “You sound like you’ve killed people. Or you think too highly of yourself.”
“Well… we both have blood on our hands, whether we’ve killed or not,” you said and he realised that was true. “A lot of people have died by my hands, just like they have by yours.”
Hongjoong didn’t need to know that you had actually poisoned and killed whoever came close to discovering the identity of the bluebirds. He would only assume you meant that about your sick patients, and that was fine.
“Does it keep you up at night?” He asked teasingly.
“Not really,” you grinned. “It’s not what keeps you up either.”
Hongjoong shook his head in disbelief and wonder, his hand going to your face almost naturally to tuck the stray hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it, princess, just because you don’t have to pretend to be sad about it in front of me.”
Princess.
How could he so casually call you princess and invoke such a powerful desire in you to be the owner of that title? To have the Prince repeatedly call you that?
“Do you go around calling anyone princess?” You asked, sounding out of breath and Hongjoong raised his brow- he didn’t realise that it would have such an effect on you, but then again-
He had never called anyone princess, not even jokingly.
“Do you like that?” He asked, his thumb caressing your cheek as his hand cupped your face. “Do you like being called princess?”
“It’s you who said it, Prince.” you answered.
Hongjoong cocked his head in thought- were you after the title then, or had you simply never been called something affectionate? Because he did notice how you reacted every time he called you something as simple as sweetheart, or love- even when it was derogatory. He wished he could peek inside your mind and see what you were thinking-
He saw how your gaze darkened when you gently grabbed his wrist to draw his hand away from his face just a fraction, only to peck his palm- your lips felt like the brush of a feather against his skin but that only fueled his selfish desire to get a taste of them for himself.
“Do not ever call me a princess again,” you warned in a low voice, surprising him. “Do not call me anything that you don’t mean. I’ll take my leave first. Goodnight, Your Highness.”
Before you could fully turn away from him, he caught your wrist and tugged you towards him, making your body collide with his lightly. The two of you were now flush against each other, your joined hands in the air as he scanned your face, the desire in your eyes so obvious that it was palpable.
And he was pretty sure he was very obvious too- he just couldn’t help it. He was beyond confused and it irked him to no end and he needed to find the answer. He was sure you were his answer-
You shook your head as if that could help your situation but you gave up and rested your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his body stiffen for just a second before he relaxed. He let go of your wrist only to place his hands on the curve of your hips while you fisted the material of his shirt in your hands-
Oh, you wanted to have a little fun? This was it, and it scared you to no end. You only took a few moments to inhale and memorise the musky notes of his scent before you drew back and made way to the exit without meeting eyes with him.
You couldn’t face him when you weren’t sure if you just wanted to play with him, use him or be with him.
—----------------------------
“If that black fake dye wasn’t obvious, your jumpiness is giving you away,” you commented when you spotted Hongjoong casting a wary glance at the poor teen who happened to cross your path. “You can take off the cloak. It’s just a library.”
“If anyone recognises me here, it could get dangerous,” he muttered.
“It’s literally the library, relax,” you said, looking at Mingi for help but he seemed to be enjoying your bickering and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re making it harder for me to concentrate. Mingi, can you accompany the Prince to the kids’ section please?”
“Don’t call me the Prince here- hey!” Hongjoong scowled, making Mingi stifle another snicker. “I’m not bothering you, okay? Read what you have to, I’m just standing here.”
“I mean… you are making it a bit obvious,” Mingi started but shut up when the Prince shot him a dirty look. “Alright, let’s give the doctor some space so we can save some time. We don’t have to go to the kids’ section.”
You groaned in relief, silently thanking Mingi who was originally going to be your only companion on this trip to the library. It looked like the Prince’s aide had gotten used to whatever was going on with you two, or simply didn’t care enough to question it. Perhaps he didn’t dare to, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But you still had no idea why the Prince was here- did he have so much free time or was he shirking his duties? Why did the Prince’s aide not tell him this was a bad idea?
Whatever it was, you took your sweet time exploring everything on the royals- not just the medical related knowledge you were here for, but political history and uprisings, specifically. You were aware that things could take a very wrong turn and you wanted to be prepared for everything. You didn’t want to be limited only by the knowledge the Master had allowed you to gain.
So when about two hours later you went to find Hongjoong and Mingi, you almost panicked when you couldn’t spot them anywhere- but while frantically searching for them you heard low, oddly familiar giggles. You narrowed your eyes as you took two turns to find the Prince and his aide sitting on the floor side by side, pointing at crude images in the comic books-
In the kids’ section.
You cleared your throat, but they only spared you a glance, snickering at something funny they read but remaining unmoving.
“Your Royal Highness,” you sighed. “It’s getting dark. We should go back to the castle.”
“Let me just finish this chapter,” Hongjoong wiped a fake tear from his eye while Mingi doubled over with laughter over something he read. You folded your arms, looking at them in utter disbelief.
This was the Prince you were supposed to put on the throne? This was the man the Master wanted you to kill?
You smiled to yourself at the sight of the two- you weren’t sure the Prince would get to have such carefree moments in the future, so you let them take their time, making a mental note of whatever they were reading. When they finished the chapter, they got up and got back to being the stuck-up Prince and guarded aide duo, steering you towards the exit and into the carriage to go back to the castle.
The ride was mostly silent, all of you sorting your thoughts out. You agreed to meet up later tonight at one of the abandoned rooms that had become your rendezvous point now. For now, the Prince sneaked back to his room through one of the secret routes so no one would question why he was out looking like that with the royal physician, of all the people.
You were glad that you were busy for the rest of the evening with lab work and assisting the other doctors in the infirmary. You went to the royal chamber later at night for the routine checkup on the King, administering the lower ruby dose mixed with a little verita this time. There were some answers you needed, so you dismissed the nurse, saying she could take a breather while you talked to the King.
“Hongjoong has been diligent lately. It’s strange,” the King found himself pondering out loud.
“Has he not always been diligent?” You asked- the Prince was known to be too hardworking.
“It’s like he almost means it now,” the King admitted. “It makes me rethink if I’ve been too harsh on him.”
“Or maybe he’s just preparing to take over more of your duties,” you carefully threw in the suggestion. “You haven’t been attending some of the meetings.”
“Could be,” he laughed, though it didn’t sound happy. “Woobin is arriving next week- he could be preparing himself. They’re always clashing with each other whenever they’re in the same room.”
“Hmm… about that,” you began, knowing that the verita was working now. “What do you think about the attack on His Highness Woobin?”
“What is there to think?” The old man frowned. “The Duke of Neverland has enemies just like all of us.”
“I was just wondering if you should look into which rebel group specifically planned the attack. It could be that insiders shared information and his travel route.”
The King thought for a moment, scratching the grey stubble on his face in thought. “You’re right. It’s either his men or one of ours.”
“You know, I went to the city today,” you told him while rubbing the pressure points on his hand. “And I heard rumours- people are speculating the Prince might have had a hand in the Duke’s attack. It’s not a secret that you favour the Duke and might pass the hierarchy to him- the public does prefer your brother over your son.”
“Ah…” the old man frowned in thought. “Could this be the case?”
“They’re only rumours,” you shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, really.”
But you had planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the King, strengthening his likening for the Duke. Once he would confront Hongjoong and demand answers or a confession to something he didn’t do, the Prince’s hatred for his father and uncles would amplify.
And when that would happen, you would be there for the Prince. You would act as his sword when he would demand it, and shield him when he would need it. You would do all of that before turning at him.
But for now…
“He really thinks I’m not performing my duties properly?”
“You don’t have to sound so hurt- it’s not like he knows how hard you work,” you consoled the Prince. “He would think you’re neglecting your duties but he’s coped up in his room all day. He’s just being bitter.”
Hongjoong folded his arms and you shook your head at the way he was sulking, his frown deepening with each passing second. “He’s never going to acknowledge me.”
“You don’t have to get acknowledged by him. You’re the rightful owner of the crown. Neither the King nor his brothers should try to take that away from you.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes I’m tempted to give up too,” he confessed and your eyes widened in surprise. He looked away from you, the faint hues of the candlelight casting shadows at the cuts and creases of his face. “I’m driving myself to do something for this kingdom only to be remembered as a tyrant in the history books you love reading so much.”
Even though he had pretended not to care about having such a reputation for the rest of his life, you were a bit thrown off to learn that it was a genuine concern he harboured in his heart. Once again, you found yourself blurring the lines of what was supposed to be the boundary between your facade and the feelings in the deepest recesses of your heart.
“You don’t have to look at me like that,” he chuckled darkly. “I don’t know why I’m even saying this in the first place.”
“It’s okay to share,” you urged. “No judgement here.”
“Yeah, I might be a bit too honest in your presence,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You know, while we were at the library and Mingi and I were reading those stupid books-”
“You loved those stupid books-”
“Not the point, but I realised something,” Hongjoong sent you a warning glare to not interrupt him again and you sat straighter, crossing your legs that were dangling from the edge of the bed. “I realised that I rarely ever had moments where I was just… Hongjoong. Not the prince, not the crown prince.”
“Just Hongjoong looked a bit silly, I’ll admit.”
Hongjoong only smiled at that. You decided to do something about this- you did not like him seeing so quiet and sentimental.
“Even the greatest of warriors are called privileged by people who will never know what sacrifices they made so their kids live a better life than they did,” you said. “You may think that you’re alone, but you’re not. You’ve got one loyal supporter right here,” you raised your hand and he let out a short laugh. “You don’t need to convince the world- or even your father- to see your true intentions. Not that they would appreciate it, now that I think about it…”
Hongjoong laughed at that, resting his hand on his chest. “That was a jab.”
“Yeah, well, the world doesn’t need to know you plan to get rid of the King so they can live a better life in the future,” you teased. “They would be appalled to learn that.”
“You should shut your mouth sometimes, darling. You’re too loud,” he warned though he couldn’t keep himself from smiling shamelessly.
Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and wonder- he really was just like you. You weren’t the most moral person, you knew all too well- the Master had drained the morality out of you, but he-
He was here, in all his royal glory yet still just as ugly as you inside. He didn’t attempt to hide it, rather wore it like a badge, though only those who really looked at him found who he truly was.
And that was what was so beautiful about him.
“Aren’t you glad to have me?” You teased. “I bet you can’t talk to Mingi about this stuff. Does he know that you’re hiding something monstrous behind that pretty face?”
“His only job is to help me with the royal duties,” he said. “He doesn’t need to know, but… I’m sure he’s caught on. He doesn’t seem to care, though.”
“You should still be cautious.”
“Yeah, I should be, shouldn’t I?” The Prince leaned back on the chair he was sitting on, folding his arms as he cast a suspicious glance at you. “Maybe I should ask Mingi to get rid of you. You know too much.”
“Oh, you want to shut me up so bad,” you rolled your eyes. “But I’m the only one who’ll dirty my hands for you.”
“Why-”
“Talking about dirtying my hands,” you got up and bent down a bit to reach his height, running your fingers through the hair next to his temple and catching the remnants of the black dye on your palm. You showed him. “It’s so noticeable- you should have washed it out properly.”
The Prince didn’t answer, his eyes guarded as he looked up at you though his mouth was parted almost expectantly. You frowned for a moment at the lack of his reaction before you realised-
He liked it.
You hesitated before curling your hand in his soft platinum hair again, caressing his scalp and then stifling a smirk when you tugged at his hair a bit harshly, making him crane his neck up to look at you, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth as he shut his eyes.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game here, love.”
“Stop me, then,” you challenged, not caring that you were going to risk everything. You positioned one leg on his thigh to lean your weight on him, your other hand going to grip the back of his neck. “I don’t see you complaining, Prince.”
Hongjoong hooked one finger in the pearl necklace that you were always wearing, bringing you closer and you almost lost your balance, a little gasp leaving your mouth when you pressed against his chest for support. Hands still on his neck and in his hair, you tried leaning away but this time, he stilled you with his hands on your waist. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.
“You smell like chemicals, darling,” he breathed, pecking the skin where his lips met your neck. “And roses.”
“You smell like cheap hair dye,” you said, resting your cheek against his head, his body shaking under you as he chuckled. “Don’t ever wear that again.”
“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said and you froze again. He leaned back to scan your face. “Why? You told me to not call you what I didn’t mean.”
“You don’t mean that, though,” you told him, something incredibly sad starting to brew inside you.
“But I’m only ever honest with you,” he pleaded. “Don’t you know that? If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
You sighed at that, wishing you were anywhere else other than his fucking lap so your brain wouldn’t have so much problem functioning, but it looked like for now, you were a lost cause. You caught the wetness from the outer corner of his left eye, wiping it down and smearing the black dye on his face in the process. He let you mark him and, mimicking what you had done the night you had warned him not to call him ‘princess’, he grabbed your palm and kissed it.
That was your last straw. You told yourself that you didn’t care if the Prince was honest or deceiving you- you only cared about one thing- you needed him. You rested your cheek against his, trailing kisses down his temple to his jaw and rubbing the tip of your nose there, making him groan. He squeezed your hips encouragingly and that only prompted you to trail more kisses down his neck. You found one spot and alternated between kissing and sucking, drawing away after a few moments when he shifted under you, grinning at the forming bruise.
You marked the Prince like you owned him. And the thought of that alone was making you lightheaded.
You locked eyes with Hongjoong, seeing red- red for lust. Before you knew it, you both were leaning in, your lips meeting in a flurry as you snaked your hands back in his hair, gripping his head to keep him close as you kissed. He brought your body closer while he kissed you, switching from pecks to open-mouthed kisses when you fully rested on his lap, desire coursing through every cell in your body.
This was it. This was the man the Master had warned you to be wary of- the man who held you possessively yet carefully. The man who tugged at your bottom lip, prompting you to open your mouth so he could explore it with his tongue. The man who kissed you as if he had been starving for it- you didn’t know about him but you sure had.
You couldn’t bring yourself closer, bodies flush against each other as you made out for what seemed like an eternity before he got up, making you wrap your legs around his waist and then he dumped you on the old, somewhat dusty bed. You didn’t care though. You brought him in too, keeping his core locked to yours with your legs, his hands fumbling to open the buttons of your gown- he might as well have torn them. He ripped the bodice of your gown apart, trailing his lips down your neck to your chest and resting his lips on the skin between your breasts.
“Tired already?” You teased, making him chuckle against your chest. He ran his hands up your waist, tracing the curves of your chest before his palms met the bare skin on your shoulders and then he ran his hands down your arms almost lovingly, your smile changing to a gasp when he gripped your wrists tightly and pinned your arms above your head, almost glaring at you.
“You talk too much, sweetheart.”
“Do I now?” you scoffed, letting him pin your wrists with one hand while the other drew your dress away from your chest to reveal your perked up nipples, the cold making you shiver a bit. He cupped one of your breasts in one hand while kissing and sucking around the other, making your back arch against his body. The way he kissed you was too much- it looked like he intended to devour you. You could feel how turned on he was when he started rocking his body against yours, his hard bulge pressing against your core and making you stifle moans until he purposely pressed harder, finally earning a loud one from you.
“That’s what you’ve been wanting all this time, haven’t you?” Hongjoong whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you squirm. “Only wanting to get in my good graces to get fucked by me.”
“Yeah, well, if I had known this was going to happen,” you said, out of breath. “I would have done something sooner.”
He chuckled at that, pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth and drawing back, looking you in the eyes before kissing you deeper. He let you take off his shirt, discarding it on the floor. He let you run your hands on his bare upper body repeatedly, let you help him take off your dress and his pants until you were both left in just your undergarments. He let you take control for just a while when you got on top of him, settling on his lap and admiring his physique.
His hands rested on your hips, playing with the waistband of your panties, tempted to do something about that too, but for now, he watched you watch him with desire in your eyes. He was surprised to find you so needy yet each touch felt controlled, almost calculated. He didn’t care though- it was already pleasurable enough to drive him insane. He had never let anyone take control of the pace like you did, so he was looking forward to what you were going to do with him.
And he was glad that he let you- you wrapped your hand around his neck experimentally before you bent down to kiss him, loving the way his kisses now became restrained as you controlled his air intake. You swallowed his moans in your kisses, not noticing how tightly he was squeezing your hips until he spanked you once, making you laugh as you drew back.
“Do you have a death wish?” He asked, voice raspy.
“Maybe?” You pecked his cheek.
That was enough- he flipped your bodies to get on top of you, shaking his head before trailing kisses down your chest and then looking at you, watching your expressions when he brought his hand between your legs and brushed one finger against the wet patch on your panties.
“Soaked already, and we’ve just begun.”
“Just begun?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry though the thought of what was next sent a new wave of arousal through your body. Hongjoong snickered at your reaction, wasting no time to pull your panties down, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched core. You kicked him away lightly before taking off your panties and he ran his hands up your thighs-
Pausing when he felt marred skin on his palm and cold washed over you when you realised that he hadn’t noticed the small marks and scars that littered through your body earlier in the faint light- but now, his eyes stopped at each one that he detected.
“Are you going to explain this?”
“Rough childhood,” you muttered- not the entire truth, but close. “Most of these are from how reckless I was, though. Nothing to worry about.”
Hongjoong passed you a look that said that he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t probe. Instead, he kissed every mark and every scar that he found on your thighs before spreading your legs and circling your clit with his thumb, now sporting a devilish smile. You bit your lips- if the emotions from him treating you so tenderly were too much just now, this was a lot. It felt more intimate and personal than anything you had ever experienced.
“Look at you, y/n,” he called your name- a rare occurrence. “Look at you.”
Before you could respond, he sank one finger inside you quite easily, groaning at how tightly your walls hugged him. You shut your eyes, back arching in pleasure when he curled it inside and slipped another finger- he really did intend to fuck you, and you were going to take it.
“Good girl,” he muttered, meeting your mouth in a wet kiss. You tried to clench your thighs, overwhelmed by the pleasure you got from his fingers curling and opening inside you but he locked your thighs to the bed with his knees, making out with you while his fingers fucked you. Your breathing got unsteady and he knew you were approaching your orgasm which was when he let your legs free, your hips moving of their own accord, rocking against his palm.
“God, you’re insane,” he growled in your ear, slipping his fingers out of you and you almost sobbed at the lack of them inside you, though when he watched his soaked fingers in amusement and licked them to get a taste, you felt shivers in your entire body. He hummed in approval.
“Do something,” you begged but he laughed mockingly. When you shot him a glare, he nodded slowly.
“Whatever you say…” he brought his mouth so close to your core that his lips brushed your aching clit. “Princess.”
Before you could react, he grabbed your thighs to keep them apart, licking a stripe up your wet folds and circling his tongue around your clit. You saw stars, your orgasm fastly approaching once again and all he had to do was dive his tongue inside you and press his thumb on your clit before your orgasm came like a crash, making you want to curl in on yourself but you couldn’t even do that because he restrained you, so you only writhed in his hold in pleasure while he made out with your sopping wet cunt.
“Too much,” you tried to stop him. “Let me breathe, Prince.”
“Oh, I’m not done with you,” he told you almost casually. “You have yet to have me inside you.”
“Oh, god,” you breathed. “Please.”
He snickered at that. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?”
“Only for you,” you looked at him. “Only for you… my King.”
“Oh, no, no,” he shook his head repeatedly. “You did not just say that.”
“King,” you got up to snake your arms around his neck. “My King. You like being called that?”
He did- it was obvious because he crashed his lips against yours, passionately kissing you and drawing back only to take off his undergarment, not even giving you a moment to appreciate the sight before pushing you down and sinking his throbbing cock inside you, though he was gracious enough to be slow with it so you could adjust. Once he was fully inside you, he remained there unmoving, pulling you up by your shoulders to resume your original position when you kissed him.
You sat on top of him, whispering the title he craved so badly again and again as you exchanged deep, passionate kisses. He called you princess, called you his queen and you returned the favour. His cock twitched inside you and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he pushed you back on the bed and started thrusting into you, your breaths mingling as your bodies rocked against each other. You told him that you were on contraceptives and he was free to mark your walls if he wanted to, and he bit your shoulder in answer, squeezing your nipples as his motions became unsteady and he jerked wildly against you, his warm cum spreading inside you.
You kept him close, keeping him going and he thrust through his orgasm until you came as well, burying your face in his chest as both your moans mingled and filled the air in the room. When he finally stilled, he collapsed next to you.
“You plan to kill me, don’t you?”
For a moment, your heart sank and you wondered if a confession had slipped through your mouth in the heat of the moment, or if he had really managed to peek inside your mind. But when he chuckled, you realised he meant it differently.
“Says you,” you smacked his arm and he brought you closer, kissing your forehead, the both of you unable to meet eyes for a moment as you attempted to conceal the truth and the guilt that accompanied it.
—--------------------------------
The Duke of Neverland- Prince Woobin- arrived two days earlier than schedule, setting off a mild frenzy in the castle as preparations to welcome him fell short, guards’ and soldiers’ rotations shifted, more medical staff got stationed in the infirmary and the kitchen-
Well, the kitchen probably got the worst of it. Though dinner went by smoothly, the staff was overworked and while you were passing by, you overheard a funny conversation about how Prince Woobin’s handsomeness and gentle nature made their efforts worth it.
You supposed you could relate to the sentiment- the Prince wasn’t very old but sure was ageing like fine wine. He was the tallest of them and had strong features just like Hongjoong, though Hongjoong was on the prettier side. The Duke was just as clever as he could be, and he was clearly ambitious especially when it came to the throne and its duties.
And… he intended to let the King know.
“Wonderland is unstable right now, brother,” Prince Woobin insisted. “What the other kingdoms need to see is that our royalty won’t collapse and we’ll stay united and put a strong front.”
There. He was definitely on to something.
“You’re right,” the King nodded, sighing deeply. “I will hold the coronation soon- I’d like it if I can see it happen while I’m alive. I know I’m no longer fit to run this kingdom.”
He wasn’t, and you had made sure of that. You were just waiting for the right timing. You felt sorry that the King wouldn’t see his last wish come true but you were sure he would watch from above. That was something you were going to believe for his sake.
“I don’t mean that you’re not fit,” Prince Woobin squeezed the King’s arm gently. “But your health is not the best, and it’s better to announce the next in line in your life. I know Hongjoong is your son and very capable of running the kingdom, but I still stand by the fact that he’s…”
The King sent his brother an amused look. “You thought the same about me when I was about to ascend the throne. I didn’t do a bad job, and I’m sure Hongjoong won’t either. He will feel very wronged if I pass the throne to you, and you know that. The crown is rightfully his.”
“Think about the people,” the Prince whispered and then cast a wary glance at you but you pretended you really could hear nothing except the scratching of the pen as you noted tonight’s readings. It was too bad that you were done and couldn’t continue to listen to their conversation anymore. With a bow to the two and a reminder to the King to take his morning walk, you left the room. You didn’t notice the Crown Prince around though you shared a wave with his aide.
To your surprise- or you supposed you should have gotten used to the sight now- the Prince was lying on his stomach on your bed, reading the same comic book that he had been reading in the public library that day with Mingi. You, for some reason you were still wondering about, had one of your acquaintances in the castle purchase those books and anything related to it when they went to town. You kept these books in your room- it wouldn’t be appropriate if the Crown Prince was caught slacking because he stayed up all night laughing over some silly dialogue in those books.
“While you’re here reading about some fourteen year olds fighting over a girl, your uncle is trying to coax the King into passing the throne to him.”
“Nothing new,” Hongjoong muttered, not looking away from the book. “I’ll be having a meeting with him before the ball. What we’ll do next depends on his answer.”
You settled your bag on the chair and went to the vanity to take off your necklace and rings. “Are you going to ask him?”
“No point beating around the bush, but it will be in the presence of my father and others,” Hongjoong looked up momentarily, meeting your eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “If he admits he wants to get crowned, I’ll have to prove that he’s not fit for it.”
“How?” You turned to look at him.
“How do you think?” He asked, “I’m curious to learn how you would handle this.”
“You’re thinking of bringing up the Neverland Accords, aren’t you?” You asked and he nodded, not surprised that you figured it out. “That’s the one thing the Duke regrets doing. The one blemish on his career.”
“It destabilised the western region. By giving in to the demands of the refugees, he gave birth to a group of people with such hatred towards the monarchy that they became rebels. They left their families for the cause. I believe notorious rebel groups like the black pirates or bluebirds who were cooperating with my ancestors became restless because of this agreement.”
So he knew about the bluebirds- everyone who worked in the castle knew for security reasons, but he knew the history and the reasons. A few of them. And he believed that the Neverland Accords, which were about fifteen years old, might be why your rebel group was restless now. You wished you could tell him that it was much older and sinister than that. You wished you could tell him that the Master wasn’t just one person but a network of leaders over time.
And when you caught yourself thinking about this, you almost dropped the comb in your hand. Thankfully, the Prince was too busy reading his book while you tried to form an answer.
“Well… I suppose that might be true,” you managed to say. “I have something we can add to that.”
“And what might that be?”
You let your hair flow freely now, ruffling it a little before you walked towards the bed, the Prince’s hand inviting and prompting you to sit near him. You leaned in and told him your part of the plan in hushed whispers and he looked at you a few times to make sure this wasn’t a joke.
“I told you,” you held his chin in your hand, gaze stuck on his parted lips. “I told you I would kill for you. I came up with something even better instead. No one will suspect the royal physician, Prince.”
“Because you serve the King?”
“Because I serve humanity,” you said, the chuckle that suddenly left your mouth turning into a low laugh and Hongjoong frowned at that- while your plan was nothing short of a genius plan, a quiet voice in his head beckoned him to question how a royal physician- a doctor- was able to scheme like this.
But for now, your hand casually resting against his thigh as you laughed was distracting. Your red, plump lips were distracting. The books you got him and the key to your room that you gave him were distracting him. The way you accepted who he was- the dark parts and even the sillier ones- that was distracting.
Hongjoong started sharing that laugh, shaking his head at you. “Now I’m really hoping the Prince begs for the throne.”
“I won’t let anyone look at what’s yours,” you promised him, gladly letting him sit you on his lap, his book long forgotten by his side. “You can count on me.”
“Why are you doing this, y/n?” He wondered, his hands going under your dress to rest on your bare thighs. “What do you get out of this?”
“I told you-”
“Why are you really doing this?” He asked, an almost dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you want me to crown you too?”
“No,” you sighed. “I couldn’t be less interested in the crown. I’m interested in what you’ll do for my career,” you lied, deciding to add a sprinkle of something honest in there when you said, “And if I can be with you like this without the crown or the heavy title, I’m content. But you must know that I’ve only had this change of heart recently.”
“You could ask me to crown you and I might do just that,” Hongjoong offered, looking up at you with adoration but you could see that he was calculating behind that facade.
“Ah, now you’re tempting me,” you smiled slyly. “Does the crown guarantee that you’ll look at me like this every night? That you’ll always fuck me like you actually mean it?”
“I do, though,” he admitted and your smile fell.
You were aware that Hongjoong only cooperated with you because he obeyed what you told him- to use you as a tool. However… had he caught feelings along the way? Or was this just another of his grand schemes- to have you lower your guard? You were still half sure that he was going to get rid of you once he was crowned, but now he was offering you something that you thought about only in your wildest dreams.
If you grabbed on to this opportunity… if you could be the queen of Wonderland, you would have more power than the Master. You could make better decisions for the bluebirds. You wouldn’t even have to end the monarchy- you could have the Prince agree to your terms. You knew that the Prince wasn’t an unreasonable man and he would understand if you participated in politics actively if you became the queen and he, the king. He would listen to you and probably even give you better advice- he cared for the kingdom to prosper, as did the bluebirds, so…
Did you really have to kill him? You could just rule with him and use him to achieve the bluebirds’ agendas. You could accomplish so, so much-
“Cat got your tongue?” He teased and you shook your head, pushing down the train of thought for now.
“You’re offering a royal physician the burden of the crown. Of course I’m speechless,” you said. “But… heavy is the head that wears the crown.”
“The rubies would suit you, though,” he grinned and you laughed at that.
“We’ll talk about this when you’re actually the King,” you told him. “For now, I’m content being where I am. I desire power, not the crown. The crown doesn’t necessarily guarantee power.”
“I think you’d make a nice queen, though,” Hongjoong rested his back against the bedpost, getting your hair away from your shoulders to plant sweet kisses along your collarbone. “Though I’d always be worried if you would poison me or use some drug to make me bend to your will.”
“You’re venomous enough as you are,” you scoffed. “All that bitterness inside you will kill you one day. Besides, I don’t need to use a drug to make you get on your knees. You’ve been doing that pretty often anyway.”
Hongjoong gave you a challenging look and you knew what was going to come next. Especially when his hand came to rest around your throat and he used that to get you off his lap and on the floor.
On your knees.
“Let’s change that now, shall we?”
You only smirked in answer, obeying, and while it was pleasurable enough to be on your knees for the future king, the thing he offered you only heightened your drive and made you sure-
That now, even if it was for one day, you wanted the Prince to rule.
And you wanted to be by his side this time.
—-----------------------------
There sure was something in the air tonight.
Tonight, the Royal Ball took place in the honour of the Duke’s arrival to the castle in the form of a masquerade party. There were many honourable guests from Wonderland and a few from the neighbouring nations as well. The theme was ruby, which you thought was very ironic. You could see red everywhere- in the costumes, in the flowers that decorated the Hall, and in the wine that filled everyone’s glasses.
The sound of violins and pianos was adorning the air with notes of excitement and vibrancy. The beat of the footsteps of the dancers in the middle of the hall melded along with the music, prompting the audience to synchronise with their claps or their heartbeats. Laughter and chatter flowed freely in the air along with the bubbles from the drinks the waiters and waitresses poured endlessly. The smell of something floral and musky overwhelmed your senses. It was a clash of perfumes, but if you stationed yourself near one of the windows or the tables with refreshment, the earthy smell of the air and the ever-familiar smell of food would wash over a wave of calm over you.
And you kind of needed that right now, because there sure was all of that in the air tonight, but there was also a wave of palpable calculation. Every look and every touch meant something tonight. Every word was said with caution. Every step someone took towards someone else meant something. And sure, this was just how royal events were, but tonight was special.
Tonight, there was an invisible web of deception and lies hovering above the Hall, waiting to trap its prey at the right moment. Though your prey was one- or two, if you were lucky- there could be more who would get caught by the spider. All you had to do was wait.
You watched the spider- the Crown Prince- looking absolutely ravishing in a deep red embellished coat over a black shirt and pants that matched the embroidery on the jacket. Most of his face was concealed by the extravagant black mask that he wore, the red feathers of it creating quite a contrast with his platinum hair that was styled away from his face. He might be unrecognisable at first glance but you could spot him anywhere. He always stood out to you.
Your eyes scanned the crowd again to find the tall Duke who had been attempting to mingle with anyone of importance throughout the whole night. That man was full of energy and the dark part in your heart wished to bathe him in eternal darkness as soon as possible. However, patience was the key.
You had to keep reminding yourself that- that you had to be patient and that you couldn’t stray from your path no matter how tempting the road might seem. But you couldn’t deny the fact that being physical with Hongjoong and all his offers were making you incredibly selfish and greedy and clouding your judgement. You were confused, and you wished you could meet the Master or even one of the bluebirds to have yourself reminded of why you were doing this, but with each passing day, the final destination started appearing murkier.
For now, though, you just wanted this night to go smoothly. You got busy when some of the royal physicians from the Duke’s court found you, and your chat with them was quite interesting. However, you kept stealing glances at the Prince. He was now on the floor dancing with someone in an overly fluffy bright red dress and it left the sour taste of jealousy in your mouth. You decided to take a chance and joined hands with the first available partner on the dance floor who introduced himself as one of the Duke’s men.
You rotated around the dance floor and switched partners twice before you found yourself in Hongjoong’s arms. The smirk he had on his lips made your knees feel weak.
“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?” He asked, twirling you around once. “I could feel your eyes on me all night long, darling.”
“Can’t resist you,” you teased, bringing your hand closer to his neck than was necessary considering you were dancing. “You’ve been enjoying mingling too much without me.”
“Well, it’s a risky move but since everyone’s so busy dancing, you can get away with it,” Hongjoong told you, glancing at the upper section of the Hall where the King sat with a few of his friends. “However… I can’t wait to take this pretty dress off. You have no idea how irresistible you look tonight, love.”
You smiled at that- you had made a little more effort dressing up tonight than usual. The black silk dress might be plain but it hugged your curves in just the right way. There was a slit in the leg and you were wearing maroon heels, one of them with a matching ribbon that was tied up and around your leg in an intricate pattern, the bow situated right below the slit of the dress. You wore a red mask that covered half your face and extended towards your other eye as well.
“You look quite charming too,” you said. “Red really is your colour.”
“Red looks like your colour,” the Prince said, pointing his eyes in the direction of the red ruby earrings you were wearing- a gift from the Prince himself for tonight. “I told you- the rubies suit you.”
Before you could respond to that, he squeezed your waist before rotating to switch partners once again, and you were left with those words playing in your head for the rest of the night- but you didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the dances ended and everyone started drinking or leaving for the night, you caught the Prince nodding at you before exiting the Hall and you started following him through the very empty corridors, making sure no one would catch you together.
You saw him go inside one of the abandoned rooms you had used in your early days to meet up and when you went inside and shut the door, Hongjoong was on you in a moment, cupping your masked face and kissing the exposed part of your lips which had to be a struggle because when he drew back, he had your red lipstick smeared across his own lips.
And the sight of that made you physically weak but Hongjoong was quick to hold you with a laugh.
“Already on your knees for me?” He commented and you smacked his chest, taking off your mask and his so you could finally kiss him properly. You broke apart for air and rested your head on his shoulder.
“It’s been a while.”
It had been about five days. The first three days got you anxious enough to want to contact his aide to see if the Prince really was busy or just avoiding you, but then he had the rubies delivered to your room. You wore them that night and looked at your reflection for the longest time, wondering how you would look in a matching crown.
“Yeah, it has been,” Hongjoong said, sweetly kissing your temple and then lifting your face by your chin to kiss you again, his tongue sliding in at the first opportunity. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pushed you against the door, his hand going to grab your thigh and bringing it up so he could press himself to you, lazily playing with the ribbon wound around it.
You broke apart for air, brushing your noses teasingly. “Missed me?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, “I have quite a few updates.”
“And so have I,” you grinned. “You first?”
“Well,” Hongjoong began, his hand on your thigh travelling to the inner side, drawing your panties away to slide his fingers along your wet folds. “The meeting was a success for me. Prince Woobin admitted he would like my crown, and my court was not happy with it. I brought up the Neverland Accords and that made him lose his temper. Good thing the King witnessed that.”
“Ah, that’s good,” you said, which came out more as a moan when he slipped a digit inside you, rubbing your clit in slow strokes with his thumb. “Is that why he’s been trying so hard to get in everyone’s good graces tonight?”
Hongjoong took a moment to respond, too busy trailing kisses down your neck and along your shoulders, drawing the straps of the half-sleeve dress away. “Surely. He has no idea what’s coming for him.”
“About that,” you rocked your hips against his hand when he inserted another finger inside, resting your head back against the door. “The King mentioned something about his father’s illness being similar to his own. I took the opportunity to tell him about ruby.”
“What do you mean?” Hongjoong paused and you gave him a warning look, prompting him to continue thrusting his fingers inside you.
“I mean,” you breathed, curling into his body when you could feel the familiar buildup of an orgasm. “I tricked him. I told him that I was instructed to use an opium compound by the Duke’s royal physicians- which is true, by the way, I discussed the medical side of it with him in the earlier days- ah.”
Hongjoong smirked when you squeezed your eyes shut as he slowed his pace. He was playing with you and it always drove you mad and he loved seeing you in that state.
“So I told him that I was suspicious about ruby and requested the Prince- you- to let me access the private library so I could check if this was the right drug to use. And then I- Hongjoong!”
You moaned loudly when he pressed your clit, the orgasm crashing over you suddenly and with a force that had you gripping at him for dear life. Hongjoong helped you recover from it, rubbing your clit in slow circles and caressing your cheek as you shuddered before he picked you up in his arms and brought you to the couch, looking up at you.
“Say that again.”
“What?”
“Say my name,” he commanded and you brought your face next to his to whisper his name in his ear. He groaned at that, making quick work of unfastening his belt and you barely had time- and the strength- to take off your panties before he had you sit on his hard cock, easily sliding in.
“Now talk.”
You gave him a look, your walls clenching around him at the way he ordered you and he scoffed. “Uh… where was I?”
“Library.”
“Right,” you tried moving but he gripped your hips, making you sit still and you gave up. “So I told him that I found something suspicious in the library which is making me suspect that Prince Woobin had a hand in the late King’s death. Because it was Prince Woobin’s royal physician who was aware of this opium compound, who also happens to be the mentee of the Late King’s dead doctor.”
“Ah…” Hongjoong nodded. “So my father knows that I’m aware of this?”
“I told him that I’ve addressed my suspicions to you and you’re investigating the matter.”
“So when I finally tell him that I’m suspecting the Duke-”
“He will believe you because he’s already heard from me, and I’m his doctor,” you grinned. “I can’t be lying to him about this- and I’ve been lowering his dose slowly anyway so he thinks that I’m trying to get him off this medication without adverse effects.”
“And why are you lowering it? I thought you were going to kill him with ruby?”
“I found a better alternative,” you smirked. “One that would make it look more natural than ruby. And do you know what I call it?”
“What?”
“Silver Light,” you kissed the top of his head. “Like the colour of your hair.”
Hongjoong laughed at that, shaking his head and gladly meeting your lips in a kiss that quickly got heated and prompted him to thrust his cock inside you deeply and you quickly returned the sentiment, bouncing on top of him and matching his energy.
“You’re insane,” he told you, sucking at your bottom lip. “With this, the Duke will finally be out of my way.”
“What about the Duke of Mist- Prince Woojin?” You asked, tugging at his hair which always turned him on.
“An accomplice, maybe,” Hongjoong breathed and you knew he was close. “He’ll be exiled but only after he watches his brother get executed.”
“How fun,” you licked a spot on his neck before kissing there. “Calls for a feast.”
“Oh, I’ll have one right here,” Hongjoong looked down at your joined cores, rolling his hips along yours. “Say my name, princess.”
You were so close. You joined your foreheads as he took control of the pace and you called his name in soft whispers again and again until he was spilling inside you, until his warmth covered you and made you become undone in his arms once again.
And when the two of you laughed maniacally, you decided it.
You were not going to give him up. Not like this- not like the Master wanted you to.
You would take your sweet time. You would have him satisfy your desire like this for as long as he was under your control. You would have him fill you up, have him mark your skin just like he was doing now, have him call you princess, or queen, or whatever the fuck he wanted to. You would wear the ruby crown he loved so much. You would sit on his lap while he sat on the throne.
You only hoped the tugging at your heart was for the desire for all of that instead of the desire to be looked at with love.
—--------------------------------
The past week had been nothing short of eventful and chaotic, to put it simply.
With the King suspecting his brother which bled in his interactions, making the Duke wonder if the King had made up his mind to crown his son, he started trying to reason with the King. His method was the same as Hongjoong’s- to dig up dirt on the Prince and tell the King of his shortcomings. However, the Duke was not aware that he was being suspected of treason, and there was no bigger sin than treason for the King. How could a son kill his own father?
The King found himself thinking about the reason a lot. He mentioned it when you slipped verita into his drug. He asked you if it was common for a child to kill his parents.
“Unheard of,” you told him. “Depends on the circumstances, I guess. When you have power, you’ll be targeted by anyone and everyone- it wouldn’t matter if they’re blood relations.”
“Sometimes I wish I was a farmer,” the King laughed in disappointment. “I could have lived a good life.”
“They have their own set of troubles,” you told him. “They worry about how to feed their wife and kids. They worry about having too many mouths to feed but then find themselves with even more. And then they do worse things than kill their children and live with the guilt.”
“What’s worse than death?”
“I guess you’ll know soon,” you shrugged and he passed you a side-eye. “If your brother really had a hand in your father’s death… whatever you do next would make you think back to this moment.”
The grief the King felt was clear, and it became even worse when Hongjoong, as per his father’s request, finally concluded the investigation and found the Duke of Neverland, Prince Woobin, guilty of the late King’s murder with the Duke of Mist, Prince Woojin, a suspected accomplice.
Tonight, Prince Woobin was going to get hanged in the square within the castle walls. The kingdom was in an uproar with his supporters crowding the streets and making home outside the castle walls. Many believed he was being wronged because apart from the Neverland Accords, his career had been pretty remarkable. If you were objective, he was probably fit to run this kingdom too. Prince Hongjoong might be a skilled leader but he still lacked a few important qualities that the people wanted in their future king, such as empathy. You weren’t one to say though, when you had orchestrated this whole plan.
The Duke of Mist Island, Prince Woojin, was choosing to remain silent. It was probably because if he spoke in the favour of Prince Woobin, the suspicions of him being an accomplice would sound true. While the kingdom was outraged, the current king and prince weren’t void of supporters. By choosing to remain silent, he would only get exiled until proven guilty or innocent. He had to think of himself.
One thing was clear to everyone, though. The monarchy was falling apart and it was causing a palpable sense of restlessness. The King’s health was declining at a rapid rate now and his heart was weaker- it was grief that was doing your job for you. Prince Hongjoong was trying his best to keep things calm and so far, he had it under control. It looked like he would soon earn the favour of the majority with his uncles out of the picture. The people had no other choice.
You were stationed at the King’s side, next to his retired aide- an old man who came to be with the King at this difficult moment. You needed to be here in case the King suddenly felt unwell- after all, he was going to witness his little brother get executed.
Hongjoong was seated on the other side and every time that he glanced at the King to make sure if he was alright, he would meet your eyes. You exchanged no signals, though. Tonight, you had hundreds of eyes trained on you. If anyone caught you sharing eye contact, they would simply think the Prince was worried about his father and was making sure that the doctor was alert. If he was doing this consciously, you had to commend his acting.
Prince Woobin’s face was covered with a black cloth as he entered the square, being walked by the guards who held his chained arms. You looked across the square to find his royal physician whose licence was revoked for medical negligence on the basis that he was aware of ruby’s effects- and possibly, how it was used for the murder of the late King. The fact that he had done nothing about it and encouraged you to use it instead made his position worse. You talked to the King and told him that revoking his licence was enough since nobody could have guessed that ruby was dangerous without referring to the royal archives in the private library.
The guards made Prince Woobin kneel in front of the King, though a level and quite a distance separated the brothers. His mask was taken off, revealing the Duke in a ghastly state. His eyes were sunken though they harboured pure hatred for the people who were wrongly blaming him. The fire burning from the torch illuminated one side of his face, casting deep shadows on the other.
“Your Majesty!” Prince Woobin’s voice boomed through the area, earning startled gasps from the crowd. “Brother dear! I urge you to reconsider and reinvestigate.”
The King sighed deeply. “All the evidence points to you. You plotted to kill me the same way you killed my father.”
“He was my father too, and I would never do that. I may have been after the crown since long ago, but it was never my intention to get my hands bloody along the way. I’m not like this, and you know that.”
“Do I?” The King asked himself, ignoring his brother’s plea of innocence.
Hongjoong got up this time and his uncle looked at him with such distaste in his eyes that you almost got worried. “Your services to the Kingdom of Wonderland are appreciated. However, you are guilty of treason and murder of the late King, an unforgivable act. We must set an example, however much it pains us.”
Prince Woobin only scoffed in response and spat on the ground, causing the crowd to shift uncomfortably. Prince Hongjoong, however, remained unfazed.
“Any last words?”
“Yes,” the Duke stood up, standing tall in front of everyone. “You will regret this. Tonight marks the beginning of the end.”
The King rested his head in his hands, overcome with emotions and you asked him if he was feeling alright, even though it was obvious that he was not. You looked at Hongjoong and he stood in front of his father, blocking his view.
“I- I can’t watch this,” the King wiped his eyes.
“It has to happen in your presence- you know the rules,” Prince Hongjoong rubbed his father’s back. “I’ll cover you.”
Prince Hongjoong signalled the executioners to begin and the crowd fell eerily silent as the Duke was led to the gallows. The air felt grim and the Duke’s footsteps were heavy. Though he looked pale when his gaze settled on the blade that was to decapitate his head, he settled on the lunette with a sense of resignation and finality.
The executioner’s words went over your head. All you could see and hear was red. Red for lies, red for deception and red for death. The blade’s drop was swift and silent but whatever sound it made was masked by the fear and warning delivered as a message through this execution.
The King left immediately after and you followed after him, sharing one last look with Hongjoong whose head was held higher than ever. Perhaps, the burden of the crown was starting to feel lighter on his head. You wished you could kiss his head at that moment and tell him that it was going to get easier from here.
However, it looked like you did not need to. That night, when you went to find the Prince in one of the abandoned rooms, you found them empty. Wondering if he was in your room- or his own room- you started going back towards the residential area but the faint sound of music caught your attention. If it had been any other day, you would have ignored it but something prompted you to investigate.
In one of the storage rooms that held old musical instruments, the room that was once an active class, was the Crown Prince shaking his arms in the air like a maestro, playing an invisible instrument to the music blasting off the gramophone. You remained frozen in the doorway, watching him dance like a maniac to whatever was going on in his head. His movements quickened as the music reached the crescendo and they both crashed down in harmony with the Prince twirling and laughing loudly to himself.
Was he that happy? Was he this pleased now that he was sure that he would be ascending the throne? Strangely enough, the words of your Master started feeling substantial. He wasn’t wrong when he told you why the Crown Prince wasn’t fit for the crown, and you were only realising it now in its full weightage.
The Crown Prince was a madman, blinded by the desire for power and nothing else. He would do anything to have his way. He was celebrating being one step closer to the throne even though the path was marred by blood now. Did he really think you were his equal? Of course not, he was a royal. But did he think you were someone significant in his life now that things were shifting between you two, or had he taken your words too seriously? Were you still just a tool to him? And would he use you even if it meant he had to crown you?
You decided to leave him be for the night, going back to your room to send a message to the Master and make preparations for the final hurdle-
The King.
—--------------------------
If you were honest, you had imagined the Prince choking you far too many times.
You imagined it would be a result of a spontaneous sequence of events- perhaps, while he kissed you and his hand went around your neck instead of cupping the side like he usually did, he would realise you might have a thing for getting choked. Maybe he would even hear you moan in response and look in your eyes to confirm if you liked it.
Or perhaps, it could be a consequence of a heated moment, such as him on top of you and thrusting relentlessly into you, recognising that you were inches away from an orgasm, and right when your body would arch and jerk as it crashed over you, he would squeeze the sides of your neck to heighten it further. You thought he would make you see stars or something even better.
However, being pinned to the wall by both his hands around your neck, his thumbs pressing your larynx threateningly and making you physically choke in pain was not it. His eyes bore into yours, dripping with venom and you tried smacking his hands away but it didn’t work.
“Did you do it?”
You stopped struggling for a moment, confused, before your features softened. Hongjoong watched with a frown but when he heard your raspy chuckle, he gave you a warning look but your laugh only got louder, making you cough because of his hold on your neck.
“You’re welcome… Your Majesty.”
It had been only a few days since the Duke’s execution. The King was having a hard time coming to terms with his brother’s blood on his hands. He may have bought your lies when you insisted that the Duke had a hand in the late King’s death, but he must have been suspecting tampering of evidence or something worse since he actually got out of his room and went to the private library to conduct his own investigation.
You had luckily lowered the ruby dosage to the minimum and the King was aware that you couldn’t have replaced it with something right away- it might have caused some side-effects. While the King did not suspect you, only commending you for caring about his health, his son received the scepticism in your stead. The King was beginning to feel more wary of Hongjoong and it was becoming obvious to everyone around them. It didn’t help that Hongjoong was doing absolutely nothing to help his case.
You had successfully completed the first part of your mission, but there was no word from the Master. Had bluebirds abandoned you? All you needed was a signal to proceed with the rest of the plan. Could it be that they somehow peeked inside your heart and discovered the true motives behind why you were cooperating with them?
You were anxious, and that was not good. It didn’t help that the Prince was incredibly busy now that Prince Woobin’s post as the Duke of Neverland was empty. The Duke of Mist had just negotiated for his life and the King had stopped Hongjoong from taking any further steps related to that matter for the time being. It was getting messier and you were realising that the Prince’s besetting sin might be his emotions and unquenchable thirst for more. While he was fully capable of making rational decisions and was doing his best to appear innocent, he could not hide how much fun he was having handling the matters that were once handled by the late Duke.
And the King may be old and ill, but he was not blind. He suspected Hongjoong, and while he was not stupid, he was too trusting of those around him and that led him to ask you what you thought about the situation. You were thrown off by the question.
“I feel like I’ve made a mistake. It’s weighing on my heart and it will take my life sooner than expected.”
“But why do you feel so?” You asked. “I know that the registers were not substantial evidence but the circumstances…”
“I know,” he nodded. “It seems odd that the royal physician was aware of ruby’s role in my father’s death yet remained shut. I wonder why. Could he have a hand in wrongly accusing Woobin?”
It was then that you realised- Prince Woobin’s physician might have been a member of the bluebirds too. That made more sense than the doctor knowing ruby’s effects and letting them slide when you consulted him for the King- no doctor’s moral code would allow that.
“But if you think Prince Woobin was innocent and the doctor acted on his own, that would mean he’s serving someone else.”
“Yeah, well,” the King shrugged. “Wouldn’t put past my son to have a hand in it. He’s been far too giddy ever since he got that thorn out of his side.”
You stifled a smile at that. “Isn’t he simply carrying out his duties?”
“Yes, that’s true. But he doesn’t have to look happy about it, does he? Even if I’m wrong and he’s simply doing his job…” the King faltered, coughing violently and you passed him a handkerchief. He wiped his mouth, smearing the piece of cloth with blood. “I can only imagine how happy he will be when I finally die.”
“He’s still your son,” you chided gently. “You’re his father. You can confront him about this if it’s bothering you so much, Your Majesty. This is clearly taking a toll on your health- I should look for other drugs-”
“No,” the King shook his head. “No more drugs. That’s enough. My time is near and I should not run away.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” you pleaded. “But you don’t have to be in pain as you walk towards your inevitable death. Painkillers?”
The King chuckled at that. “You’re a brilliant doctor, y/n. I hope Hongjoong takes good care of you after I’m gone.”
Somehow, that sentence stuck with you for all the reasons and more. The King was the one person who had treated you like an actual human despite his position of power and authority. You had always found yourself comparing him to the Master- another person with power and authority yet no regard for his subjects. While the King had always patted your shoulder with affection, the Master had only ever touched you with a stick- the marks of which you still bore on your skin. While the King always encouraged you to make leaps in the medicinal field and use him as your ‘test subject’ which was an inside joke amongst all the doctors in the castle now, the Master had only ever criticised you.
Would it be so bad if you let the King live? Or were you doing him a favour by killing him? He would die a painless death and wouldn’t witness the doom of his empire. One death had already cost him a great deal- he surely couldn’t take more. Hongjoong wanted him to live a little longer and hand him the crown with his own hands before he passed on, but no matter how much you tried to convince Hongjoong that the King couldn’t live long, his pride wouldn’t let him admit that the King would never willingly crown him. It was why he urged you to look after him as best as you could and why he was so enthusiastic with his work lately. He had something to prove now.
And it was why, ultimately, you decided to let the King rest. He did not need to dig any deeper and find out that his own son and his royal physician had orchestrated this plan. He did not need to be in agony anymore. You slipped the silver light in his medicine and he took it unsuspectingly. You squeezed his wrist in silent gratitude for all he had done for you- from his heart. And then you went to your room and waited to hear the news.
It was too bad that the Prince himself had to be the one who delivered the news to you-
“Did you do it?”
“You’re welcome… Your Majesty,” you said, finally getting him to let go of your neck. You glared at him as you rubbed your neck in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation. “Didn’t think you’d be so ecstatic to hear that.”
Hongjoong stared at you, for the first time feeling something resembling fear in his heart- the future looked uncertain and for once, the look in your eyes made him shiver. Hongjoong was realising how perhaps he, too, was at your mercy. You wanted him to take over the throne so you sped up the process for him, getting rid of his uncles and now his father. All for what? For the throne that was his anyway? And you didn’t even want to be queen until he suggested it- just why-
“The King died of ‘grief’, but really, it’s the silver light’s doing,” you told him, taking a few steps to close the distance between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder, your eyes scanning his face. “It’s too bad he couldn’t crown you with his own hands, but that’s okay. All that matters is that he’s gone and he didn’t discover the truth about your role in Prince Woobin’s death. We did it, Hongjoong. You did it.”
He did it. He trusted the wrong person and messed everything up. Sure, the fact that he was now the King made him ecstatic, but there was still something that bothered him-
And that was you.
You were unpredictable and dangerous. And he couldn’t have someone like that by his side in the long run. He could not continue dallying with you anymore.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you urged him, planting soft kisses around his mouth and on the tip of his nose. “You don’t think I did something wrong, do you?”
“Of course not,” Hongjoong kissed your lips. “I just wanted to make sure if it really was you. Did I scare you?”
You shook your head despite the air being heavy with lies. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Hongjoong scoffed at that, looking down as he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief and pretending that your words did not feel like a stab in his back. “I’m just a little bummed that you didn’t tell me.”
“It was a… spur-of-the-moment decision,” you ran your hands across the silky material of his cream shirt. “But all’s well that ends well, isn’t that so?”
Hongjoong nodded. “They’ve taken him away- the funeral will be the day after tomorrow so Prince Woojin can attend.”
“Ah, he’s still here, huh?” You clicked your tongue. “Anything I can help with?”
“Oh, I’ve got that handled,” he assured you, caressing your cheek. “Now… can we stop talking and stop acting? Didn’t you say something about how you couldn’t wait until I got the title so you could say you fucked the King?”
You laughed at that, the two of you leaning in for a kiss that soon turned heated, resulting in discarded clothes on the floor. Hongjoong was rough with you tonight, feeling lightheaded with the weight of the new title on his head. It didn’t help that you kept teasing him, calling him the King or Your Majesty Hongjoong. Despite the gravity of the situation, it turned him on so damn much and he realised that he really was mad. But he couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t stop until he fucked you hard, taking you from behind and making you become undone on his cock over and over again. He snaked his hand back on your neck as you reached your high, this time to crane your face towards him so he could see you. You locked eyes with him, his silver hair matted on his forehead and a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten. This time, he choked you the proper way right when you came.
You actually saw stars this time. You didn’t mind that he treated you like a ragdoll tonight, probably pouring all his frustrations, grief and anxiety into you. You didn’t mind that he used you like a tool, spanking you whenever you so much as looked at him the wrong way and making you rock on his hips or fingers even though you were an oversensitive bundle of nerves.
For tonight, you were his and he was yours. You had him wrapped around your fingers and even though he was the one who wielded power and dominance over you, it was ultimately you who moved his strings and controlled his actions. You could only wish that he would remain ignorant for as long as possible. After all, it would be too much of a shame if you couldn’t be like this for just a while.
Hongjoong stopped thrusting his cum inside you, resting his forehead against your bare shoulder and catching his breath, sliding out moments later and watching the leaking cum out of you with an amused look. You smacked his arm and he scooted away so you could bundle the sheets around yourself as you lay next to him, tangling your limbs.
“This is it,” you whispered, kissing his chest. “This is where you’re meant to be.”
Hongjoong kissed the top of your head in answer and you thought his touch felt distant and cold but your mind was too hazy to make sense of it.
For now, you were in the King’s arms. And you were already planning how to make it an everyday ritual.
—------------------------------
Today, the Master’s big plan for the Kingdom of Wonderland was finally going to come to an epic conclusion- Prince Hongjoong was going to get crowned king and he was finally going to ascend the throne. Granted, the path had been rocky and bloody but he finally made it.
You would be his royal physician now, and no one else’s. And oh, the sight of the empty seat next to his that was once the queen’s was bubbling desire in you for something that was not- or should not be- yours. You were just a piece in the Master’s plan and you becoming the queen was not a part of his scheme.
But you were tired of obeying the faceless Master when there was no guarantee that you would live to see the next day- or even the next moment. The bluebirds were everywhere. They could end you just as easily as you had ended the King. They were cooks, soldiers, doctors, guards and assassins. They sat at every post in the castle and you wouldn’t be surprised if the Master was prowling somewhere around here- especially today. He had to be present to see the scheme of his forefathers about to conclude.
And you were wondering if it would be too bad if you made some alterations to the Master’s plan. If he had one of the bluebirds sit on the throne, he wouldn’t need to end the monarchy to have the kingdom flourish, would he? He could just have them manipulate the royals and make a puppet out of Hongjoong. And it wouldn’t be too bad if you were the one who sat on the throne, right?
“We should do something about the queen’s empty throne, huh?”
You almost jumped at the sudden intrusion, looking behind to see Hongjoong’s aide, Mingi, walking towards you to stand beside you. The Hall wasn’t empty but the workers had been silently making arrangements and you had just stopped on your way to your room to get a look at how the preparations were going.
Mingi was dressed in his official uniform, a number of badges and emblems on the ruby red coat. He smiled at you, continuing. “You’re thinking the King would need someone by his side, aren’t you?”
“I was just reminiscing,” you lied smoothly. “It seems like just yesterday that the late King and Queen sat here proudly and the Hall was full of life.”
“Ah,” Mingi nodded in understanding. “It’s been… a bit sad afterwards, hasn’t it? The King… the grief really clung to him.”
“I sometimes wonder if there’s no cure for grief,” you sighed. “If the loss of his wife wasn’t enough-”
“His brothers,” Mingi nodded. “It’s truly a shame. Prince Woojin has arrived for the coronation but he isn’t too pleased to be here.”
“He’s going to get exiled from his homeland, so I can understand why,” you said and he agreed. The two of you looked at the empty seats for a while before you said you had to get ready for the event and you parted ways. You went to your room to change into a ruby red gown, wearing the earrings Hongjoong had gifted you and tying your hair back. And right after, you went to sit by the window to take a breather.
The sky was clear today, and you wished Hongjoong’s intentions would be too. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was amiss from the night that he pounced on you, suspecting that you killed the King. Yes, you had without letting him know beforehand, but he knew this was inevitable. And you had done him a favour because the King was almost on to him, but Hongjoong just had to be an ungrateful fool. It truly was a shame.
A knock sounded on the door and you opened it to reveal one of Hongjoong’s guards, asking you to accompany him to the royal chambers. You got worried for a moment, wondering if there was a medical emergency but the guard assured you that the Crown Prince just needed to talk to you about something so you followed without the medical kit. Mingi let you in and left, saying he had some matters to attend to. You looked around, finding the chambers awfully empty now that the King was gone and none of his staff was present. You knocked on Hongjoong’s room and he hummed in answer so you let yourself in.
“I see you’re already struggling with the burden of being the King,” you commented, watching him struggle with the robe unceremoniously. “Where’re your maids?”
“I don’t like being dressed by them,” he muttered. “Help me?”
You softly chuckled, standing in front of him between the mirror to fasten the clips to his jacket and then you straightened his clothes. “You only like my hands on you, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” Hongjoong smirked, watching you with a fondness that made you question if you had been wrong to suspect him. “I just wanted to see you before the coronation.”
“Someone’s finally feeling emotional, huh?” You teased and he laughed at that, resting his hands on your hips. “How does it feel to finally be the King of Wonderland, Your Majesty?”
“It hasn’t happened yet,” he raised a brow but you tsk-ed.
“That’s just formality, the event. You are the King. And I’m glad to be here with you right now,” you told him- you really were happy for him, from the bottom of your heart. “All those library sessions finally earned us the crown.”
Hongjoong nodded, not commenting on how you used the term ‘us’. As if the crown belonged to you too. He supposed you had the right to feel like that after being his sword and his shield.
“Can you come see me after the coronation, in the music room?” Hongjoong asked, gently cupping your face with one hand. “I’d like to give you something.”
“Really?” You asked, searching his eyes for an answer but finding nothing. You felt your heart thump with excitement at the prospect of what this could entail. The silly voice in your head told you that maybe he really was going to crown you or at least make a promise.
“Okay,” you nodded, kissing his palm. “I’ll be there.”
Hongjoong smiled at that and leaned in to kiss you, deep and passionate like none of the kisses you had ever received from him before. Your back arched as you wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into the kiss, his arm around your back bringing you closer. You kissed for a long time before he broke apart and you laughed a little, telling him that you should be going to mark your attendance at the Hall. Hongjoong let you go with a final kiss to the top of your head, promising to see you later.
You had to admit that you were confused by the sudden change in his behaviour, but maybe he had been a bit cold towards you for the past couple of days because of the stress. The Prince had always been a moody man but that didn’t mean that you weren’t hyper-aware of everything he said to you or the way he acted towards you ever since you got rid of the King. If there was one thing you had realised the past few months, it was that you were on your own. The Master wasn’t going to take care of you or protect you if you messed up. The Prince would always protect his crown first before and he would gladly frame you if he ever felt threatened. You were aware of that, and as much as you desired the Crown Prince, his power, and perhaps, the seat next to his, you weren’t going to be unprepared.
When you went to the Hall, you were greeted by many. You had been the King’s royal physician and his confidante of sorts, especially after his aide retired. Tonight, you were going to honour him by lighting the torch that marked the King’s absence before the coronation would begin. The late Queen’s torch would be lit by Prince Woojin, the Duke of Mist Island.
There was a murmur spreading throughout the Hall as Prince Woojin entered, clad not in the official red but black- for mourning. He hadn’t been staying at the castle ever since he arrived for the Duke’s execution and just when he was about to leave the Capital, he heard the news of the King and came to attend the funeral, extending his stay a few more days as per Hongjoong’s request. He joined you at the front row, a few empty seats away from you but you got up and greeted him, just like you would have greeted the late King.
“Have you been well?” Prince Woojin asked. “I heard that you were quite close to my brother.”
You sighed deeply. “I’m alright, thank you for asking. I hope you’ve been well too.”
Prince Woojin shrugged in answer. As the youngest of the three, he was quite the oddball of the family, lacking any desire for the throne since the beginning and keeping to governing the northern region of Wonderland where the islands were located, collectively referred to as the Mist Islands. Unlike the other Duke, he never argued about the policies either, only following the late King’s orders. You supposed there were people in this world who weren’t born with the innate desire for power after all. Prince Woojin was a living example of that.
“Do you think I should start packing up after the coronation?” Prince Woojin asked, surprising you. “I’ve heard rumours that I’m going to be exiled. As if living on Mist Islands isn’t an exile itself.”
You frowned- you weren’t surprised that he had heard that, but why did he ask you? Was this just small talk or was he on to something? “Did you never want to rule the islands, Your Highness?”
“It’s not that,” he chuckled. “But it’s quite a trip from here, isn’t it? I just wish I had seen my brother more often when he was alive.”
“Well… Prince Woobin did,” you shrugged, and Prince Woojin heard the rest of the sentence even though you didn’t say it out loud. Look where that got him.
“For a long time, I’ve thought that whoever sets their eyes on the throne is doomed,” Prince Woojin said and you listened to his words carefully. “For a while now, the position has birthed tragic endings. Woobin’s death has only strengthened my belief. Even if I was offered the position, I wouldn’t take it.”
You made an impressed face, nodding at the man who looked older than his brothers despite being in his late forties. “You’re very wise, Prince Woojin-”
“Do you covet the throne, my dear?” Prince Woojin looked at you and your mouth parted in surprise at his observation- or guess. Whatever it was.
“I… don’t, really,” you admitted, looking towards the empty seats. “I guess I covet power and control. For at least once in my life, I would like to be free to make my own decisions and have no one influence my path.”
“Let me tell you something,” he leaned towards you, just as the doors opened revealing the Crown Prince. “You don’t need to sit there to have power or control over your life. That is a cage that looks like salvation, and once you take the crown, there’s no going back. You’re trapped until death. You’ll be controlled by forces you can’t even see. At least right now, you’ll have what? One? Two people influencing your life?”
You glanced at Hongjoong who narrowed his eyes when he saw the two of you conversing. Turning your attention to the Duke, you nodded. “You’re right. It really is a cage, isn’t it?”
Prince Woojin smiled, slumping back and nodding. He looked at where his nephew was, who was being marched towards the throne with Mingi by his side. You and Prince Woojin stood up and the rest followed. You went towards the torches in the middle of the room, standing in front of each other. One of the servants brought a candle to you and you lit the King’s torch first, locking eyes with Prince Woojin. He smiled at you, taking the candle from your hand before lighting the Queen’s torch. After the fire from them rose to a certain height, you both turned towards Hongjoong who was waiting for the signal at the end of the room. He bowed back and turned to receive the crown.
“The lone survivor,” Prince Woojin commented. “For how long, I wonder.”
Your heart sank at his words and you slowly turned to face him. It couldn’t be, could it? Prince Woojin only smiled knowingly at you and then applause sounded across the room, with a chorus of ‘Long Live His Majesty King Hongjoong!’ sounding across the room. While he looked magnificent in the crown, you were left pondering over the Duke’s question.
For how long?
When things got a bit busy, you made one last attempt to tie your fate to Hongjoong’s. You went to your room and wrote a letter, tucking it under the bed like you always did. And then you went to the music room to wait for the new king. You were starting to feel a sense of finality washing over you and to cope with what was surely coming, you started to press your fingers to the piano, the movements feeling foreign but strangely intimate- as if the notes meant to comfort you and pass you silent assurances.
You supposed that was the reason why, when the King finally entered the room with a guarded look on his face and two soldiers by his side, you weren’t surprised. You only scoffed in mock amusement, shaking your head.
“Doctor y/n, royal physician to the late King,” King Hongjoong announced. “You are under arrest for the murder of the late King.”
You let out a short laugh which soon turned maniacal and Hongjoong signalled the guards to give you both some privacy. They went to stand outside the room though the door was kept open.
“You’ll regret this, oh, you will,” you said when you finally got up, taking off the ruby earrings. “This will be the moment you will look back to soon.”
Hongjoong only smiled in answer. “You’re a threat to me as you were to the King. I can’t have you prowling around, you must understand.”
“Of course,” you walked to him and took his hand, slamming the earrings on his palm and curling his fingers over it. “The crown suits you, Hongjoong. Make the most of it while you can.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” He raised a brow.
You smiled, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, making him freeze. You kissed his cheek before drawing away, getting one good look at all that glory, memorising the face of the person you had crowned, the eyes that had betrayed you long ago, the lips that had always served as a distraction to make you blind to what had been brewing in his mind all along, and then at his hands that had led you to your doom. Before he could stop you, you walked past him and surrendered yourselves to the soldier, mockingly bowing at him.
Even though you could taste your tears, your lips were curved in a smile. You may have doomed yourself but-
You would not be alone.
You had tied your fate to Hongjoong’s long ago. Your paths had been intertwined since the beginning and would remain so.
You had heard from the Master once- that it takes a monster to destroy another monster. Perhaps, you took his words literally- you became a monster just so you could take another down. You did not regret one bit of it.
—--------------------------
You had watched many executions take place in the square. You had watched the recent execution of the Duke beside Hongjoong.
However, you did not imagine you would be watching the very empty throne from the square, on your knees with your hands tied in front of you- still with Hongjoong beside you, in a similar state.
“Quite a view from up here, isn’t it?” You commented. “Bet the Duke was too infuriated to admire it when it was his time.”
Hongjoong didn’t reply, looking at the rope that was wound around his hands and then back at the throne that he had sat on for barely a day. He clicked his tongue in anger when he spotted Prince Woojin. He didn’t sit on the throne but went to stand at the edge to watch.
This time, the square was empty save for the two of you. No one needed to witness this ugly conclusion, you supposed. It was just a few officials from the castle and-
Mingi. Watching you from the shadows and motioning with his finger towards the opposite direction-
At Prince Woojin. You frowned in confusion but then he crossed his heart and then his wrist, and understanding washed over you.
Mingi was a bluebird, and so was Prince Woojin. You realised then that your doom had been inevitable. You were meant to die with Hongjoong from the very beginning. Mingi had made sure that happened, and Prince Woojin, who had to be one of the masterminds, had tricked you into planting the letter under your bed. The letter confirmed that Hongjoong had ordered you to kill the King and had fabricated the evidence to get the Duke executed for a crime he did not commit. That way, they had an official confession to get you both arrested and ready for trial.
But… Prince Woojin had to be someone who worked closely with the Master who had trained you. The Master had to be present today- you looked around, finding some familiar faces but failing to recognise him.
“No one’s coming to save you, Princess,” Hongjoong scoffed and you raised a brow as you looked at him.
“Fuck you too, Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong shook his head in amusement, looking at you with a strange expression- was that affection in his eyes? You frowned. “You don’t have to fake your feelings anymore. At least be true to me- to yourself- in your last moments.”
“No point wishing I could kill you with my own hands anymore when we’re both going to the same place,” Hongjoong said, his body shaking as he stifled a fit of laughter. You shook your head at that.
“Isn’t it funny?” You attempted to change the subject, wanting a distraction from the way your knees felt numb from kneeling for so long now. “We were doomed from the beginning, you and I. We were both pieces in a game that was being played by these people- the masterminds, from so long ago. Did they ever foresee this moment?”
“Pieces, you say?” Hongjoong asked, wondering who these masterminds were- had he lost the real game while he got high on what looked like a victory to him? “Were you a spy?”
“A bluebird,” you confessed with a short laugh as tears pricked the corner of your eyes. “They’re everywhere, Hongjoong. They’re watching us right now.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he took a look around, finding all the eyes present trained on him. All his life, he had felt like he did not truly belong in the castle but never once had he felt it with this magnitude. He felt like an imposter in his own home.
“So this was all a part of your plan?” Hongjoong asked. His words carried no bitterness or disdain. He simply wanted answers.
“It wasn’t,” you shook your head. “At least, not this,” you raised your tied hands in the air and looked at him. “I really wanted you to rule, Hongjoong. Even if it was just for a day.”
“Well, you got what you wanted-”
“That was what they wanted,” you continued. “I tried to find a way out of this, but you have to understand that I was trapped. By them. By you. I told you that I would make sure to undo everything and sit next to you when you got me arrested, but… the bluebirds got us. I didn’t think I’d sit next to you in the square.”
The rays of the sun were starting to peek from behind the arched roof of the elevation where Prince Woojin stood watching you both. You shut your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin. You were going to be cold for an eternity now.
“Feel that, Hongjoong?” You asked, unmoving. “Another thing we took for granted.”
“The sun?”
“This warmth,” you looked at him, spotting the grim face of the executioners making their way from the other end of the square, the soldiers and court members taking their respective positions. “Did you ever take your time to feel it? Did you ever feel something similar?”
“I wasn’t always a cold, calculating bastard,” Hongjoong chuckled, glad you were talking to him right now. He somehow felt lighter. “I felt warmth in my mother’s arms.”
“I didn’t,” you told him and he looked at you but there was no pity in his eyes, only understanding. “I felt warmth when the King talked to me like I was his daughter.”
Hongjoong smiled at that, looking at his tied hands. The executioners paused when they saw that emotion on his King’s face, allowing just another moment. You looked back at Hongjoong, strands of silver hair covering his glazed eyes.
“Did you ever love me?”
Hongjoong’s smile only deepened at that. “Did you?”
“Maybe I did,” you cocked your head, waiting for an answer.
“Maybe I did too,” he raised a brow. “We must have been lovers in our past life.”
“Or maybe we were enemies, and this was my twisted attempt at redemption,” you said and he chuckled. “Maybe we’ll actually do ourselves justice in the next life. If there is one.”
“Death won’t do us part,” he said and you finally let the tears fall even though your heart warmed at his words.
The executioners appeared in front of you, their swords gleaming and ready by their side. Hongjoong had personally requested execution by the sword instead of the guillotine though he never mentioned his reasons for this choice. He raised his tied hands in the air and the executioner looked towards Prince Woojin for confirmation. You narrowed your eyes at the Prince, wondering if he would take the throne or demolish the monarchical system but your thoughts got interrupted when you found your executioner untying the ropes around your hands as well.
Confused, you looked at Hongjoong who extended his hand, prompting you to take it. You intertwined your fingers with his, squeezing them. He held your hand with considerable strength as if he meant to convey his fear for what was ahead but assure you that he was here, with you.
“Death won’t do us part,” he promised and shut his eyes.
You shut your eyes with a smile, thankful for his promise. Maybe in the next life, you would meet again under better circumstances, unburdened by lies and guilt, greed and lust. For the first time, you saw something other than red.
You saw silver- muted but warm, like Hongjoong’s hair. Bright and glaring like the colour of the drug, silver light, that doomed you. Distant and beautiful like the stars you saw at night while you rested in Hongjoong’s arms. Twinkling and intoxicating like the stars Hongjoong made you see when he made love to you.
You saw silver- glorious and absolute like the sword that painted you both red.
#this one is for all you villain joong enthusiasts#y'all can blame loren for the ending she pushed this agenda#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong angst#hongjoong smut#ateez x reader#ateez angst#ateez smut#kim hongjoong angst#kim hongjoong smut#kim hongjoong x reader#ateez au#ateez ff#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic
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writing for william afton?? Yeah sure I'll get craaaazy ヘ( ̄ω ̄ヘ) you can write headcanons of anything, really, I just want to hold this man and be extremely and overly affectionate with him (灬º‿º灬) (and and jealousy trope is so aaaaaa you can write something with that, right??? :33)
William Afton/Steve Raglan Being Obsessed With You Would Include...
A/N: Yeap, let's start with obsessive relationship stuff, and then I'll work on a request for jealous headcanons. Hope this is in character, I tried to make it as accurate as I could with what I could work with from the movie. Requests for the FNAF movie are still open if you want me to work on a scenario; just make sure its no smut and platonic or childhood sweethearts for any of the animatronics/missing children 🙃
🐰• Well, good luck getting out of whatever craziness you've somehow gotten yourself into. That's the first thing I'm gonna say ._.
🐰• You probably meet William as "Steve," the careers counsellor who asks a little too many personal questions for it to be strictly business-related, but then, he's got to know who you are to find a job that fits in with your life and personality. He seems normal enough, though there is a slight intensity in the way his eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and his questions become more specific and a bit non-contextual.
🐰• By the end of the interview, he offers you the place of a nightguard at Freddy's, giving you his card with a casual half-smile and going out of his way to show you the ropes. Then you start the job, as oddly unsettling and dark the environment seems, and you think that it's the last time you'll hear from him.
🐰• It's not 😏
🐰• Steve knows a lot about you from your files that he went through before, and from what you told him, and he's got a good memory. He copied all the information down, storing it safely at home, going through pictures and any sources he can find about you in some unplaced interest. William's very calm and calculated, and there's no way he'd be found out unless he let it happen or wanted you to find out for yourself.
🐰• So until he's ready to reveal his dark side completely, which will slip out in little actions and hints when you spend time with him, he's simply Steve Raglan, the relatively normal careers counsellor who keeps checking in on you to see how you're getting on with the job, often going out for a coffee to give you "advice" in his breaks. Anything to pry out more information from you, for him to understand what exactly it is about you that intrigues him.
🐰• Is it because you're unusually pretty? Clever? Quirky? To William, you're just a bit different, maybe a bit childish, or mature and deep, dark-humoured? Whatever it is, it caught his attention, which is a good thing, if you want it... and if it's not, well, you're stuck with it anyway.
🐰• You'll notice quite early on that he's a bit odd himself, maybe a bit invasive, possessive, especially for someone you haven't known for that long. If someone looks over at you for a second too long while you're having coffee with Steve, having a conversation that's veered off of references and employee skills to some personal aspect or interest in your life that he's cracked open. You'll see a shot of something dark pass through his blueish gaze before it passes almost as soon as it comes, and you'll know nothing more about it except never seeing that person again. Just another missing person to add to a list.
🐰• Same with if you happen to be seeing anyone; he's got his own ways to scare people off, and if that doesn't work, he'll be forced to do something a little messier. Again, you won't know a thing about it, and there'll be no proof, no body, no big questions. Suddenly your partner has run off on a job out of the country or broken up with you via text... and Steve will be around to "see how you're doing" and to pick up the pieces when you end up spilling more about what's been going on in your life and exposing more vulnerability. It gives William a rush, in a way, to be needed and ran to and relied on when something goes bad, especially if it's you looking up at him with big pleading eyes. He can only smile and squeeze your hand, not letting go for a long moment as you get yet another drink and finally end up getting somewhere closer to a proper relationship.
🐰• Friends start getting a little distant, past lovers end up disappearing and little conveniences in life become more frequent. Wonder why that is?
🐰• Afton has a great memory, and if you tell him you like something in particular, your favourite show or book, he finds the exact thing by chance in the shop and had to get it for you, just to see your eyes light up and smile thankfully. Or he recorded a new episode of your series for you to watch if you come over on one of the nights you're not working, or he's just finished reading that book, come round to his so you can talk about it some more? He always finds a way to get what he wants, and when it's a person, victim or not, the rule still applies.
🐰• You may not be a victim of violence or murder, but he's got an obsession, an unhealthy desire to watch everything you do, everyone you talk to and in your life. He doesn't name a specific reason for it, doesn't think he needs to, doesn't see the point in it. If you ever catch on to that kind of behaviour, he'll just give you a warm smirk and shrug. "Well, because it's you," is his casual response, though you could swear there's something more behind his eyes. "And I care about you, you know?"
🐰• This is still William Afton though, and for all he can be surprisingly romantic and thoughtful when he thinks to be to see your reaction, he's a sadistic murderer and kidnapper at the end of the day... and it does start to show through. He can be manipulative as we see in the movie, and a bit arrogant, though I don't think he'd outrightly manipulate you. It's more your surroundings and the people you're with. Maybe he'll dig up some dirt on one of your close friends and put it somewhere where you'll find it and cut off the friendship yourself, exactly how he wanted it. And on the occasions when he gets his hands dirty with those types of people, he will get his hands dirty, and enjoys every minute of it. He taunts and mocks them until their dying breath, hating the thought of someone else holding your attention for longer than he can, which only causes more blood to be washed out of clothes and off his skin before you notice.
🐰• I have the idea of William watching you sleep deep in for some reason, since he's affectionate in his own ways, not majorly into PDA or clingy, since he prefers you being the one to run to him. But in the moments when you're not aware that he's around, like when you're sleeping. He'll trace calloused but featherlight fingers across your face, down from your forehead to your cheek and your neck. There's a beat of tensity where you might think he's tempted to do something extreme, something violent, but it passes time and time again. I think the only time William would be tempted to be harsher and forceful is if and when you ever found out about what it is exactly he does, and try betraying him. He wouldn't kill you, nothing like that, but he'd have to lock you away someplace safer...
🐰• But Afton will cross that bridge when he comes to it. For now, it's just an attentive and dependent relationship that William will keep going for as long as he can, accepting any gesture of affection or admiration or any positive attention in general with open arms and a pleased smirk on his face. Life will be pretty easy for you, everything seeming to go your way, and his, he'll make sure of it. And when you finally uncover the truth behind Steve and meet the real William Afton, he'll expect things to stay exactly the same: bloodied hands, spring locks snapping, glowing grey animatronic eyes or not.
#springtrap x reader#steve raglan x reader#william afton x reader#william afton fnaf#matthew lillard x reader#fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf movie x reader#springtrap#five nights at freddys movie#william afton#mike schmidt#fnaf movie 2023#fnaf movie spoilers#fnaf film#five nights at freddys#fnaf 2023#fnaf william afton#purple guy#william afton x you#five nights at freddy's#five nights at freddys foxy#springtrap fnaf#fnaf fandom#fnaf chica#fnaf spoilers#fnaf foxy#fnaf headcanons#fnaf freddy#matthew lillard
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the three times you and georgie cooper were jealous of each other and the one time you acted on it
a/n: ahh first post!! i was actually watching young sheldon while writing this :) sad it's the last season but excited for georgie and mandy spin off!! anyway felt like there was a lack of georgie x readers so wrote this with my fav trope! enjoy!
i - the time when veronica duncan punched georgie in the face
"and then... she punched me in the face!" your best friend georgie recounted to you, as you sat on the front porch of his house, a can of beer in both your hands.
"she punched you in the face, in front of everyone?!" you chuckle, raising an eyebrow.
"yeah.." he replied.
"no way! what did you even do?!" you take a sip of your beer, looking at him. your best friend georgie was one of your favourite people in the whole world and very good looking, hey! you were allowed to say that!
"i kinda.. told her i loved her. in front of the whole church." georgie muttered, slightly flustered.
"you what?!" you spluttered, hardly believing a word he was saying.
georgie saw the look on your face.
"hey i'm not lying!" he says, chuckling.
"what did you expect?!?! poor girl. you barely know her georgie!" you laugh teasingly, this boy really was something else. you had grown up alongside the boy and everything he did even to this day still surprised you.
"i know but i'm bummed by it.. i really like her y/n." he looks at you with wide eyes. he sounded... serious?
this stopped you laughing.
"you really like her huh?" you look at him, encouraging him to say more.
"yeah.. look" georgie sighs, taking a swig of his beer. "i've never felt this way about any girl before. ever."
oh. why did this feel like a massive kick in the stomach? your insides had gone all funny.
"oh.." you mutter, looking down. "didn't realise you were that serious."
"yeah.. i need to make it up to her, i care about her.. even if she don't about me" georgie sighs.
woah he really seemed to care about her. why did this aggravate you so much? veronica was a nice girl, pretty and kind.. even if she did (rightfully) punch him in the face. she was good to your best friend. so why didn't you feel supportive?
"don't worry georgie.." you reach out and comfortingly pat his arm "she's a nice girl, she'll forgive you."
he smiles and wraps his arm round you "thanks y/n, you're the best friend ever, ya know that?"
"yep.. what would you do without me." you chuckle, nervously.
friend. why did him referring to you as that make you feel queasy? that's what you were, right? best friends? this felt weird though.. different.
you suddenly felt sick.
"look i gotta get home.. got a lot of homework" you stand, trying to ignore the feelings you were currently having.
"going so soon l/n?" georgie grins.
"yeah sorry.." you chuckle "good luck with the veronica thing anyway.. i'll see you tomorrow."
"see ya" he smiles and waves you off.
you wave back and walk down the street to your house, thinking about what had just happened.
the sickness feeling, the disgust, the small bit of sadness you felt when georgie said he'd never felt that way before
then it sunk in. you were jealous. fuck!
ii - the time that guy from your spanish class asked you out
spanish was somehow both your favourite and least favourite class. i mean you hated the class - you were awful at it but you got to sit next to georgie in it.. so maybe it wasn't too bad.
today started like any other spanish lesson. you listened to the teacher drone on about grammar, you and georgie had a footsie war under the table etc. everything was normal. that was until the end of the lesson.
you were packing away your notebooks, listening to georgie babble on about football when adam, the boy who sat in front of you, approached you.
"hey y/n" adam smiled shyly at you,
"oh uh hey adam" you said friendly enough, but very confused on why he was speaking to you.
you weren't the only one confused. next to you, georgie had been interrupted by this exchange and had stopped talking, now listening, his eyebrow raised.
"uh i was wondering.. if you'd like to see the new ghostbusters movie with me tomorrow night.. its okay if not, i understand." adam chuckled nervously.
georgie frowned at this. who did this adam guy think he was, asking you out to the movies? he didn't even know you! who asks someone out that they don't even know.. this guy was a total weirdo. there was no way you were gonna say yes.
"um.. okay" you interrupted his train of thought. adam was quite handsome, and seemed nice. and although it was bad to admit, you needed a distraction from the unknown feelings you were having for your best friend.
your answer shocked georgie. why on earth did you say yes? did you feel bad for him or something.. or maybe you just wanted to see the new ghostbusters? he would've taken you if that was the case! not this idiot.
"oh good. i'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow then?" adam smiles at you, and god georgie wanted to punch him.
"yeah okay." you smile back, and watched as he waved at you then left class.
"well that was.." you turn to georgie, who is not looking at you but is looking straight ahead.
"let's go to lunch." georgie ignores you and starts walking off.
"oh okay" you mutter, then follow him.
georgie was mad. this guy didn't deserve you, he was definitely punching! you were beautiful and deserved someone way better. someone like.. him! but no you were best friends.. he couldn't ruin that. but the more he thought about it the more he realised he was jealous.
you were his, not that adams! that was the day georgie cooper realised he liked you, his best friend.
iii- the time georgie ditched you to hang out with jana boggs
every summer, you tagged along with the coopers (well more so georgie but you had long since been accepted as a member of the familt) to the carnival set up by pastor jeff and the church.
every year, you and georgie usually went off together and did your own thing but this year was different. georgie had been dating jana for a while now and of course it was only normal for him to not hang with you as much and you shouldn't get mad at him for wanting to spend time with her.. right?
"oh look.. jana's over there." georgie chuckles, awkwardly looking to where his girlfriend was stood.
"yep." you reply.
"and she looks.. pretty lonely" georgie states, again awkwardly.
"uh huh" you nod.
"maybe she needs someone to talk to?" he says.
"hey i get the hint, you go hang with her.. she's your girlfriend after all, i'll stay here with missy" you try and say encouragingly, but your voice wobbles slightly.
"really?!" george smiles.
"yeah!" you reply.
"you're the best" he gives you a tight hug. "i owe you one!"
"don't worry" you say, watching him walk off to jana " that's what friends are for" you mutter.
you look to the ground. it felt like it was time to finally accept that you liked georgie a lot. and not just as a friend.
"that was pretty sad to watch" missy speaks up, looking at you half sympathetically, half in enjoyment.
"well i'm glad my sad life gives you joy." you let out a weak laugh.
"look i've always liked you y/n, you're cool, and i've always thought you can do wayyy better than my dumb brother" she tries to comfort you.
"well thanks." you smile.
"and just so you know... i think georgie likes you back. he's just stupid.. and scared." missy smiles.
"i hope that's the case." you smile back.
as you watch georgie laugh along with jana, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.
you really liked your best friend.
iv - the time where missy matchmakes.
"georgie.. please please please can you take me and marcus to the movies tonight" missy begged, standing in georgie's doorway.
"missy.. i'm supposed to be hanging with y/n tonight." georgie frowned, secretly he had hoped tonight would be the night he might finally confess to you.
"bring her with you! she loves me." missy smiles smugly.
"we'll see." georgie sighs.
four hours later, georgie, y/n and missy were in the car, going to pick marcus up. georgie didn't take much convincing after learning it would entail missy and her boyfriend being alone, and you were quick to accept to come with.
"so missy.. how serious are you and marcus?" you ask, turning round and smiling at her.
"we're kinda serious.. we've held hands a bunch and hugged. we haven't kissed.. but we've shared a straw" she replies, subtly bragging.
"oh wow pretty serious then." you chuckle. georgie smiles at you. he loved that you got on so well with his family, it was something he'd always liked about you.
there was silence for a while.
"can i ask you guys a personal question?" missy breaks the silence.
"umm sure" georgie responds as you nod.
"so you're both single..."
"thanks for the reminder" you smile playfully.
"and i know jana broke up with georgie because of you y/n.."
"how do you know that" georgie exclaims, confused.
"i know everything." missy deadpans. "and i also heard you on the phone to each other."
"anyway.." she continues "why don't you just date each other? it's very clear that you like each other, everyone can see it. it's simple." she says, proudly.
both your eyes widen. you were not expecting that. you start uncomfortably laughing and turn to look at georgie.
georgie was looking straight forward , avoiding eye contact.
"well.." you start "i don't think i'm georgie's type.."
"you kidding?" georgie exclaims. "not my type? of course you are! i compare every girl i ever meet to you!"
you sat shocked. what. the. hell.
"you do?" you look at him.
"of course i do. i like you a lot y/n." georgie blushes, avoiding eye contact.
your heart stopped. finally!!
"oh really? georgie i also like you a lot!" you smile, brightly.
"you do?" georgie grins.
"yeah of course i do! i have for ages.. i was jealous of jana.. and damn this was ages ago but i was jealous of veronica as well!" you chuckle.
"no way!! i was jealous of that adam guy! and pretty much any other guy who talked to you as well!" georgie replies, smirking.
you smile.
"i was just too nervous to say anything." you say.
"holy shit, me too!" georgie agrees.
you reach over and touch his shoulder. he smiles back. and at that moment although it sounded cheesy, it did really feel like a moment from a romcom.
"aww that was real cute guys." missy smiles.
"but don't you dare say any of that cheesy stuff when marcus is in the car!"
#georgie cooper#georgie cooper x reader#x reader#georgie cooper x you#young sheldon#young sheldon x reader#georgie cooper x y/n#missy cooper#childhood best friends to lovers#mary cooper#sheldon cooper#george cooper
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not the zoey you wanted (six)
pairing: zach maclaren x female reader!
summary: you waited all weekend for your boyfriend, Zach, to call or text, anything, to explain why he had just went and ghosted you when you were supposed to go with him on a family ski trip to meet his parents, his sister Avery, and his cousin, Miles.
content warnings: angst; victims of catfishing; miscommunication trope
Masterlist | < part five | add yourself to the taglist HERE!
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“I… I don’t know,” you breathed out as you looked into his blue eyes, peering into the pleading, the longing, the afraid look in them. “I don’t know.”
He let out a long exhale, not exactly a sigh, but a sound that depicted how much he had deflated.
“What were you two talking about earlier?” you asked before you could really think about the words you were saying.
You didn’t need to say any names for him to know exactly who you were talking about.
Without missing a beat, he said, “How much I love you.” He kept his hands on your cheeks, holding your face to make sure you don’t break eye contact with him.
You’re silent, looking away anyways. He drops his hands. He just lets out an awkward laugh, tilting his head to the side, “Which is a lot, by the way.”
Zach MacLaren is patient, he is kind. He was one of the best boys you’d ever known, funny, sweet, with the type of smile that was contagious and a laugh that you wanted to hear at any moment of any day. And you knew, deep down inside, that the insecurity you let fester and build up inside of you was only making things worse. You knew it was only making that reconciliation harder.
He grabbed your hands next, holding them in his lap. You looked up at him, finally.
“I love you,” he said with his full chest, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. “And what happened with Zoey hurt you, and I’m so sorry that it happened. I’m hurting, too, you know.”
“I know,” you tilted your head to the side and your bottom lip wobbled.
That was all it took for Zach to wrap his arms around your shoulders and bring you to his chest, thinking you were about to cry.
You just moved your face so that you could still breathe, letting your cheek press against the fabric of his shirt and grabbing onto the fabric of his black puffy jacket.
“I know it sucks for you the most,” you continued talking, blinking to prevent any tears from falling because you did not want to cry. He rubbed your back, right between your shoulder blades. “I know not talking is only making things worse, but I just don’t know what to say… I’m hurt, you’re hurt. And it’s like I’m stuck here, listening to you say you were falling for her over and over in my mind, unable to just… move past it.”
There’s a long pause, a question forming in Zach’s brain that he didn’t want to ask.
But he asked it anyways.
“Do you think… maybe you won’t get past it?” he wondered, his voice clear but his tone apprehensive. “Is what happened last weekend it for you?”
There’s another long pause. You have no idea what to say to that, a million things running through your mind. Perhaps? Maybe? Right now, it was hard not to feel hurt that he had gone on this ski trip with Zoey and his family, where she apparently fit right in with them—though he says Avery thinks she’d like you better—and he was having a good time getting to know her and falling for her. It was hard not to think about how he probably smiled at her like she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen and how she got to experience something that should be just yours.
And how, if it wasn’t Zoey Miller, maybe he would’ve fallen for someone else down the line anyways. Or, if it was Zoey Miller, maybe fate would’ve put them in the same room at the same time in the future, and they’d end up together.
He untangled himself from you when you fall short of a response, a tightlipped smile on his face.
“Take your time,” he reassured you. “But if, at any moment, you realize that we can’t recover from this… please tell me. If I’ve already lost you, I’d rather know.”
He stared into your eyes, looking as if they were imploring you to tell him he hadn’t lost you. His expression was screaming for the answer, even if his words were depicting a man of patience.
“I’ll tell you… if those thoughts ever cross my mind,” you say back.
And it was that tiniest reassurance that completely walking away from Zach was never an option in your head that made the ends of his lips curl up in just the slightest. The tiniest bit of hope.
⟢
“Zach sure is busy these days, huh?”
You stood by the shoe rack of your apartment, taking your shoes off. You looked up to see Bree typing away on her laptop, sitting at the dining table that had a view of the front door.
Zach had walked you back to the apartment, insisting on having at least that.
“What do you mean?” you asked, shrugging off your bag and placing it on the couch before pulling out a chair and sitting across from Bree.
She just shrugged, glancing up at you while her head was still tilted towards her laptop, glancing at you from the top of her eyes. “He hasn’t been over in almost two weeks, new record.”
Her voice was nonchalant, but you knew that face. You’d been roommates and best friends long enough to know that face.
“What happened?” she asked, closing her laptop. “And what does it have to do with Zoey Miller?”
“How do you just know these things?” you asked with an amused laugh.
“With the awkward way you two were standing earlier, anyone could know these things. Plus, I’m used to having Mr. Soccer Star raiding our pantry practically everyday, we haven’t had to go grocery shopping yet, it’s noticeable,” your roommate pointed out, before giving you a real sympathetic look. “Seriously though, what’s going on?”
And there came the word vomit. The story about that weekend, waiting for Zach anxiously and thinking he had just ghosted you. Storming over to his parents’ house on that Sunday to get the real answers from him, only to see Zoey Miller, his “girlfriend” there with him and his family. Zach coming over immediately to explain to you that wasn’t what happened.
You tell her how at first, you felt nothing but sympathy for him to hear that he had got hit by a freaking tree and then catfished, before the insecurity and jealousy arose at the mention of him falling for the catfish. How you can’t help but wonder if he would’ve fallen out of love with you and into love with her if the situation had been different.
“I don’t know if that’s really fair…” Bree spoke after hearing all of the things you had kept bottled up, all of the negative thoughts you were having about Zach. “I mean… you’re just coming up with a script in your head and imagining how it’ll all play out as if it's a done deal, and punishing Zach as if he had really done all of those things.”
“I am not punishing Zach,” you laugh, but it falls short with the seriousness of the conversation.
She just gave you another look, as if silently telling you to just go along with her over exaggerations
“Look, Zoey Miller is a piece of shit, okay?” she said seriously, eliciting a real laugh from you. “And Zach MacLaren loves you. Like, he really loves you. And I know it’s a trust thing, it’s hard to fix a trust thing. He fell for another girl, memories or not, and that hurt you. He got lied to by some random anti-romantic with a weird obsession with his cousin, and that hurt him. But now you two are just hurting each other, and I don’t think that’s fair to either of you.”
You just tapped your nails on the table top as you soaked in the words from the wise.
“What will it take for you to feel reassured that he loves you?” Bree asked.
“I know he loves me, I just can’t help but wonder if he’d love someone else more, or if he’d be capable of falling for someone who isn’t me,” you said back.
“That is the fear of any relationship,” Bree pointed out. “Because life happens to people and people grow together or apart, and that’s always going to be a fear, wondering if you two will last. But what you two need is the trust and belief that it can. So, again, what will it take for you to feel reassured that he loves you?”
You had one idea on the tip of your tongue, and it sounded crazy. You knew it did.
“I think I need him to… give Zoey Miller a chance,” you said slowly, as if not really understanding the words as they came out of your mouth either. “I think I need to know that if he gave it a chance with her as Zoey Miller and not me, would he actually enjoy being with her or not.”
“You’re stupid, no,” Bree shut it down immediately. “If Zach wanted Zoey freaking Miller and not you, he’d be with her right now, and not you. He knows you’re on the fence, and the little cockroach obviously keeps popping up looking for him. If he wanted her, he’d be with her. But he’s not. He’s still trying to be with you. Only you. You, you, you.”
You laugh as Bree aggressively affectionately talks to you, really trying to drill it into your head how Zach MacLaren felt about you. And listening to her speak really did make you feel better.
“Okay,” she clapped her hands together. “The board of directors—that’d be me—has convened this meeting over. I think you have some things to ponder on your own. But that is my two cents on the closest thing I’ll ever get to real life Naley. Don’t sink my ships, man!”
You just laughed at her, and she reached over to give your hand a squeeze reassuringly.
#drew starkey#zach maclaren#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#zach maclaren fanfiction#zach maclaren imagines#zach maclaren x reader#zach maclaren x y/n#zach maclaren x you#drew starkey angst#zach maclaren x angst#zach maclaren angst
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knots
synopsis: lyney has been head over heels in love with you since the two of you were only ten years old. the only problem? you're friends with lynette and not him. so he spends the next 8-9 years pining over you with seemingly unrequited feelings
characters: lyney x gn!reader
wc: 2.1k
warnings: angst to fluff, misunderstandings, happy ending, best friend's brother trope, an insane amount of obliviousness and pining, idiots to lovers pretty much, the ending is kinda rushed
disclaimer: i know character ages in genshin are a rather controversial topic of discourse within the community. i personally think of lyney and lynette to be around 18-19 years old and i do mention age in this fic as it follows a bit of a timeline. if this somehow bothers you, please just don't read or try to start an argument over it in my comments
notes: THIS IS SO CUTE IM SOBBING 🤧 i did throw in a lot of angst though i'm so sorry but i saw the opportunity and took it. the end is fluffy (and kind of rushed sorry) though‼️ the title is also inspired by lacy by olivia rodrigo as i think it's very fitting for this fic. thank you for the request! (this is my third time posting this cause the first time it didn't show up in the tags)
Lyney was jealous as a kid. It was hard not for him to be when him and Lynette were first introduced to you and you had barely even acknowledged him. He was only ten at the time, but he was so excited to make new friends outside of the House of the Hearth that he was stunned when you had only really talked to Lynette. You had only ever offered him a small wave and a smile to go along with it before running off with Lynette.
It wasn’t fair in his eyes. He was the one more interested in you anyway, not her. She had merely tagged along because he forced her too. Now here she was stealing his potential friends.
You’d clicked instantly with her. Both of you were more on the quiet and shy side, contrasting Lyney’s sunny and outgoing personality. You both liked the same foods, the same clothing, the same everything. Lyney wanted to share those with you too, but it was hard when his tastes differed from yours and you didn’t seem to pay much interest in him anyway.
And growing up, he’d always been around. You’d hang out with all of them, don’t get it twisted. It wasn’t like you’d ever told him he couldn’t spend time with you guys. In fact, you often spent a lot of time together. You were sweet. You loved helping them with their magic tricks, even though they normally failed since you were all thirteen by the time they really began taking it seriously. You’d pretend to be shocked when they guessed your card, despite knowing exactly how the trick worked. You’d be on standby when they performed more dangerous tricks. Hell, you were even an assistant for them nearly eighty-percent of the time.
Lyney was grateful for it all, but he still couldn’t shake the ever growing crush on you he’d developed three years ago when you first met. He wanted you to be closer with him more than his sister. It was selfish, he was well aware of that, but he was the one with a crush. Not Lynette.
Lyney was the one to pick you up and put a bandaid on your knees when you fell at the playground. Lyney was the one to always share his snacks with you, even when you usually said no. Lyney was the one to always sit next to you when you were feeling a little down and let his knee rest quietly against yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull yours away. Lyney was the one who was in love with you by the time you all turned 18.
When the fateful performance happened and they were revealed to be Fatui to the general public, he was sure you’d leave them for good. You had obviously known they were Fatui, but you didn’t know of the extent to which they acted, the crimes they had committed. In your eyes, they were only in training, because that was all they had told you. As close as you were to them, they could never let you know the full details. It was against the rules.
Lyney was so sure you’d up and leave that it was the second time he had ever truly felt anxiety in his life — his sister being taken was the first, but here you were making him feel that horrible pounding in his chest all over again. He was so sure that the ache in his chest would have to make room for more than just jealousy, but grief among heartbreak. That you’d look at them in fear and never speak to them ever again. That he’d never get to profess his love to you.
You proved him wrong, and rather unexpectedly so. You’d shown up to every second of their trial and helped the traveler out as best you could to exonerate them. You’d stuck by their side through it all and made sure they were alright. He was so surprised you almost made him cry.
When they were freed from it all and the crisis was solved, you’d only hugged Lynette and Freminet. That was the part that stung the most. But at this age, Lyney was too nervous around you. How could he not be? You were so pretty and sweet and kind that he didn’t know what to do, especially when he was confused as to where he stood with you. You were all of those things and more with everyone. Everyone but him.
So he pulls away.
He doesn’t want to. God, he’s so in love with you he doesn’t want to ever spend a second away from you, but you never reciprocate any of it. So perhaps, he decides one day, it’d be best to just move on and focus on other things. Lynette could have you to herself and he’d find someone else, no matter how much he wanted you the most.
And you hate it, because well, you’re confused. Which sounds unfair, and in some ways it is, but Lyney was a special light in your life that you couldn’t get too close to. Not because you didn’t want to. No. Of course not. He didn’t realize that you were too scared to. You were so different that you shied away from him, despite feeling all the same toward him. He was like the sun and if you got too close to him, you were scared he’d burn you.
Lynette pushed you toward him regularly. You never seemed to escape her late night gossip sessions where she told you all about how her brother was practically drooling over how good you looked or how sweet you were. You found it endearing while she found it disgusting. Despite it all, though, you had confided in her about your crush on him as well, but how terrified you were to try to actually approach him. She almost slapped you right then and there.
Lynette thinks you’re both stupid. And she’s right. Because now you’re both stuck in a huge misunderstanding. Lyney thinks you hate him and you think he hates you. Could anyone really blame her for being so annoyed?
“You need to talk to him,” she finally breaks one day, about to pass out in her chair from her social energy running out just from hearing about the entire situation nonstop for the past week. You stare at her mortified as she gives you an unimpressed stare.
You nearly choke on the drink you were sipping on just a moment ago, catching a few passerby’s attention as you do, “Why do I have to be the one to say something?! He’s the one that started avoiding me!”
“Are you dense?”
“No?”
She stares at you for a long minute and sighs.
“You’re both idiots. He likes you. You like him. You were too shy to say anything and now he’s decided to move on,” she explains, unimpressed. Did you really not see it after all these years?
“Move on? What?” you place your hands on the table in front of you, panic swimming in your eyes. It all hits you so fast you feel your heart practically about to burst out of your chest.
“I have to go, sorry!” you jump out of your chair, yelling a string of apologies from behind you as you run from the cafe.
It takes you an hour to find him after your conversation with Lynette ends abruptly. Freminet was nice enough to let you know Lyney had gone down to the outskirts of the main city to work on some magic tools by the beach. It was just an excuse to get away. All three of you knew it, but Lyney wasn’t the type to say how he truly feels in fear of being a bad leader.
You wished he had said something sooner. Though perhaps you should’ve been the one to take notice long ago that his advances were more than just friendly.
You suddenly feel regret build up in your stomach at the way you treated him all these years. You were so afraid of your feelings you sabotaged yourself in the process and unknowingly hurt him too.
You find him sitting in the sand, legs crossed as he quietly fiddles with a few parts for some magic props.
“Mind if I sit?” you practically whisper from beside him. Lyney doesn’t even look at you. It’s cold and and unlike him and must be exactly how you looked all these years. He nods anyway.
You watch the waves crash in front of you. Over and over again as they grow closer with the deepening hours of the night. The stars reflect gently upon each and every one of them yet you can’t get yourself to focus on them.
You fidget with a small flower in your hands. It was tucked away gently in your pocket, the petals sticking out to prevent it from getting crushed. It’s a vibrant pink and even with its petals closed for the night, it still looks beautiful in your hand. It reminds you of all the times Lyney had dropped the very same ones at your doorstep or somehow tucked away on a piece of your clothing without you noticing. You hadn’t bothered to look into the meaning back then. You never knew rainbow roses were a declaration of love.
Lyney still sits quietly next to you, now messing with the hat he had taken off when you arrived. His lavender eyes avoid yours, but you don’t hesitate to drop the flower gently into his hands.
“I never knew the meaning of these,” you turn to him and say softly. Your eyes match your voice and he knows you’re telling the truth, even if he doesn’t want to believe it. When he doesn’t move to touch it, nor get rid of it, you speak again, “It’s uh…it’s for you. I picked it on the way here. I thought you’d maybe like it.”
He finally picks it up and turns toward you, a mixture of emotions pooling in his eyes. You see the anger, the fear, the pain, and the love all at once. You wish you had seen it all sooner.
“Why are you giving this to me?” Lyney asks quietly. It comes off a little colder than he’d like, you see it in the way he winces after. You only stare at him with a sad, but hopeful look in your eyes. You couldn’t take back the past, but perhaps you could change the future.
Quietly, you take it from him and tuck it above his ear. He’d done the same to you one time, only it was part of a show and you thought it was just for the act. Oh how oblivious you were back then. “You know what it means to give someone one of these. Lyney, I…I never meant to push you away all these years. I was just scared because I liked you, and Lynette was easier to get closer to than face my feelings for you. Even if we were just ten years old. It was immature and for that, I’m sorry.”
It’s quiet for a moment before his face brightens a bit, “Do you really mean it? You’ve really liked me all these years? Or are you just saying all this to make me feel better?”
You nod, confirming your words and he breaks out into laughter. A sound you’ve dearly missed. Sadness doesn’t suit Lyney.
“Can I…?” He says scooting closer to you, eyes glancing in between yours before falling to your lips. You nod, a small laugh escaping you as you lean in to meet him half way.
Lyney’s lips are soft against yours as he kisses you eagerly. You reciprocate the feeling, matching his pace until you both pull apart out of breath. You laugh nervously standing up and extending a hand, “Wanna go home?”
Lyney jumps up, his hand in yours and nods. He interlaces his fingers with yours tightly, not letting you go after all these missed out years.
When you return to the House of the Hearth, Lyney turns and places one last kiss to your lips. It’s short and sweet and lets you know that he’ll definitely be seeing you tomorrow. You turn and walk away after, wishing him a goodnight as you do. But before you can walk away completely and turns and shouts, “7 PM tomorrow at the Hotel Debourd! I’ll pick you up!”
Lynette appears behind him suddenly, rolling her eyes and waving to you before shutting the door on her twin, “You’re hopeless, brother.”
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact fanfiction#lyney#lyney x reader#lyney x you#lyney x y/n
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whoops!
pairing: newt x reader
tw: mild cussing ? oh, and thomas and minho are really close.
summary: you and newt get caught cuddling, even though you're supposed to be enemies.
re-did an old draft. for my enemies to lovers trope fans, 'cause i'm feeling nice today.
you and newt never got along. enemies - that'd be the first word that came to mind when people asked you/newt about what you and newt were. never friends, just enemies. he didn't seem to even want to attempt to be nice to you. there was just something about you that drove him insane - and you weren't sure if it was in the good way, or the bad way. if it was your sarcasm, your voice, how you got along with mostly everyone, you had no clue. he'd probably never tell you, anyways.
though - not that you'd admit to it -, deep down, you were hurt, watching him constantly act the way he did. mean, cold, avoidant, - the complete opposite of the newt that the others saw.
⚝
bonfire night, the day every glader looked forward to. no work on afternoons, the infamous homemade mead - apparently, gally's secret recipe -, the random games you guys made up. it was all fun, way better than being stuck doing chores in the glade all day. so, naturally, when the new greenie, thomas, came up from the box - as the gladers called it -, you were excited, and so were the others.
however, you didn't expect to get that drunk. drunk so much, that at some point during the night, you ended up in the grass, with newt's chest pressed against your back, his arms comfortably resting around your waist as you both gazed up at the stars. for what seemed like the first time, you could've sworn you saw him smile at you.
⚝
all warm and cozy, you jolted awake when you heard a certain runner's voice.
"what are you two, dating?" minho teased, thomas giggling as he looked down at the brit's sleeping face nuzzled against your neck.
it seemed like the greenie's soft laughs seemed to awaken him, judging by the little groan he let out against your - now, flushed - skin.
"my head hurts," newt complained, voice raspy from lack of use.
"yeah, shocker, right?" said minho, who's reply was ignored by newt.
"um," he started, "how drunk was i? we, i mean?"
thomas shrugged, sitting down next to you and newt. minho did the same, smirking. "drunk enough," was all that thomas managed to say, not elaborating further.
newt let out a hum, eyes still half lidded when they met minho's. "are you just.. gonna watch us?"
"are you still drunk?"
a beat. ".. no?"
the two other boys exchange a knowing glance, not lost on the fact that he was still holding you. quite tightly. and you weren't protesting, too exhausted to do so.
after a few moments of silence, you spoke up; "we missed breakfast, didn't we?"
"yeah," replied thomas, who was toying with his sleeve.
"but we decided to be good friends, and bring you two shanks some food," minho cut in, gesturing to the weaved basket that he brought with him, sitting in the grass.
"not hungry," newt grumbled.
"more food for me, then," you said, voice hoarse from the sore throat accompanying the throbbing pain you felt at the back of your head.
newt's hands slid off of you - albeit hesitantly -, allowing you to sit up. once you did do that, you grabbed a strawberry, popping it into your mouth.
"what happened last night, again?" the blond behind you asked, still laying in the grass, only that now he was propping himself up on his elbows.
"a lot," answered minho. "but what the shuck were you two doing, just walking off? together??"
"shut up," you mumbled, annoyed.
"no, really - are you two, like, friends now, or what?" thomas questioned, grabbing a berry for himself and minho while you weren't looking.
"like," he continued, "i know chuck told me that he hates you-"
"i do not!!" newt protested. "i don't hate y/n."
this was not only shocking to hear for you, but for thomas and minho too, apparently.
minho almost choked on the fruit in his mouth, leaving him coughing. "dude, since when?"
"since forever?"
"how come you're always such an asshole to y/n, then?" thomas asked bluntly. "apparently," he added.
"i'm not!" he tried to defend himself, only for you to glare at him in protest. "you are, though."
"fuck," he muttered under his breath. "i get anxious around you, a'ight?"
if it weren't for thomas' giggling and minho's little wheezes cutting you off just as you were about to speak, you'd ask him 'what do you mean?' or something of the sort, expecting something along the lines of 'shut up' from newt.
"i'm sorry," minho laughed, "what?"
"you get anxious? around y/n?" thomas repeated after calming down.
"m'not explaining myself to you," you heard him mumble. leaning forwards, he extended his hand to grab a berry, trying to change the topic to..
"where'd you get these, anyways? frypan's kitchen?" he asked, feigning curiosity.
berries? seriously?
"newt," minho warned. "if you're trying to avoid the topic, it's not working."
thomas nodded, agreeing with minho. "and don't think we'll tell you where we got the berries."
"fuck," newt grunted, swallowing dryly. "i don't know what you want me to say - that i've liked y/n all along? is that what you wanted to hear?"
he went silent, unsure how to continue. hell, he wasn't even sure if he should continue.
"well, i like you too, newt," you told him, voice barely above a whisper as you spoke. at this point, the other two boys felt like the biggest wigmen ever, watching you both confess to eachother.
"right, um," thomas cleared his throat, slowly getting up. "we have to go, chuck wanted to hang out with us.."
minho, too, rose to his feet. "yeah, don't wanna keep the little shank waiting, do we, thomas?"
"yeah, uh, certainly don't want that," he nodded. "have fun, you two," the other winked. thomas grabbed his arm, giggling as the two walked off, leaving you alone with newt.
you turned to the blond boy, only to find him already looking at you. "m'sorry," you could fainty hear him murmur, sounding almost guilty.
"what for?"
"for acting the way i did," he answered, ignoring you when you told him that it's fine. "i like you, i really do, and i know this isn't in any way an excuse for how i acted, but i'm bad at expressing my feelings, especially around you."
"newt."
"yeah?"
"did you not hear a word i said? it's fine," you muttered in response.
".. and, i love you too."
"i love you more," he argued.
"do you, now?" you challenged, a smile playing at your lips.
"mhm," he whispered, leaning in slightly. cupping his cheek, you pressed your lips against his, smiling through the kiss. one specific thing that you noticed was that he tasted like berries.
"you taste like berries," he chuckled, forehead against yours.
and apparently, so did you.
#the maze runner#tmr#newt tmr#newt x reader#newt the maze runner#newt x y/n#tmr newt#the maze runner newt#newt#maze runner#newt maze runner#newt maze runner x reader#newt tmr x reader#maze runner x reader#maze runner newt
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𐔌 . ⋮ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐢𝐍’ 𝐢𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
୧ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨ . . . you learned your lesson to never escape from yandere! gojo satoru ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
୧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑/𝐒 ୨ . . . gojo satoru x fem! chubby reader
୧ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ୨ . . . mdni. yandere themes, punishment, locked up in a room, petnames (bad girl, baby cakes), ooc? mentions of killing, reader is chubby but isn‘t stated. this can be seen as platonic or romantic relationship. (m. list)
୧ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ୨ . . . first time writing smth like this tee heee !!! hope i dont make him too ooc,, i tried balancing the romantic and platonic trope so hope it works lol anw requested by this anon, ty !! <3<3
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 to never escape from gojo satoru, the man who killed all your family and friends to have you for himself. the man who‘s selfish enough to not let anyone looking at you. the man who locked you up in his penthouse with an excuse to “protect you from the curse”.
gojo satoru is a man who will kill anyone if they tried to get on his way. he doesn‘t hesitate to push someone‘s grandma out of his way ── because he‘d do anything, anything just to have you on his side.
‘till to this day, you still fear him. the man you once knew was now your captor, laying down on the couch with his arm wrapped around you like he‘s been friends with you for years. he‘s watching the movie and laughs at the character saying some stupid joke, occasionally glancing at you (even though he has his blindfold on) as if to expect you to have the same reaction as his.
he acted like he didn‘t know what caused to act . . . strange. he thought as you always looked empty, and when his presence came to known, your eyes immediately changes to fear.
but he knew deep down, he knew what happened ─ because on one night, satoru had a mission assigned by someone whom you don‘t know. you noticed the door was unlocked, strange. because you knew satoru would always lock the doors so that you won‘t be able to escape, maybe he was rushing?
not wasting any thoughts, you stood up and ran towards the door, itching to feel the pinch of freedom, itching to finally see your family and friends, itching to go back to your life that you used to have.
your eyes shines to feel the cold metal of the golden door knob, already imagining to eat your favourite fast food, getting your own pet dogs, or even cats ── doing things that you‘re restricted !
but sometimes good things comes to an end, like colliding satoru‘s chest and looking up at him, you find him smiling with his perfect rose tinted lips.
“that was a quick one,” he chuckles like it was the funniest joke he ever said. you backed away with fear swirled in your eyes. “knew you‘d fall for my test. ah, silly you !”
“w─what ? what do you mean this is a test !?”
“do you think i‘m stupid enough not to lock the doors ? even if i‘m rushing, i will never leave the door unlocked.” his face went cold after saying that, but it soon changes and his smile went back to his face.
“anyways, i‘m on my off days, so no missions for yippe !” he clapped his hands, while you were staring at him ── this man seriously doesn‘t take anything serious ?
“let me out of here ! let me go home !” your mouth spoke your mind as you grabbed his biceps. “home ? baby cakes, you are at home, here ! you‘re with me ! if you‘re asking for a bigger home, i can──”
“i─i don‘t want anything from you ! i‘m tired of living here for God knows how long, let me out of this hell of a place that you call home !” tears were now filling your eyes as the words were stuck in your throats. you have a lot to say to him, but you ended up choking on your own words.
“i─i just wanted to see my family and friends . . is that to─too much to ask ?” you whispered the last part as you went down to the floor, as the tears escaped.
the silence was loud, only your sobs were heard. your wrist were harshly grabbed by satoru‘s slim hands. “satoru ? ─”
he ignored you and dragged you to across the hallway ─ no matter how much you tried to pull away your hand from his inhuman strength, he doesn‘t budge. he stopped in front of a door that you always passed by. “. . satoru where are we──”
the man opened the door not letting you finish the sentence and pulled you into a the dark room. your tears dried out as you noticed the floor was wet, you could see mold growing at some corners, and a small mattress which probably has fungus growing inside. a light came from the small window, not too far away across you, but you do know it was sealed shut.
well, you surely hope he doesn‘t lock you up here─
“because you‘ve been a bad girl, this is where you‘re going to sleep for tonight. hope you learn your lesson.”
as if he reads your mind, your eyes widens as you turn around to see the door was already closed and ran to it. you pushed the door, attempting to break it and desperately wanted to get out.
“i─i‘m sorry, toru please let me out ! i‘ll be a good girl i─i promised please ! . . .” your cries from the room were heard by him. the man, who you once know became someone out of your nightmare. the guilt was eating him alive as he heard your sobs getting louder with each steps, but he knew he had to do it.
the man, gojo satoru who you thought was your friend became a monster, who would do anything to get it‘s victim.
© all rights reserved ! headers/layouts does not belongs to me ! don‘t copy, plagiarize or modify my works. all works are taken in a form of fiction, do not condone any problematic behavior. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
#୧ 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚‘𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !!? ୨#chubby reader#plus size reader#yandere drabbles#yandere jjk#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#yandere boy#yandere jjk x reader#yandere gojo x fem reader#yandere gojo x reader#yandere x fem reader#yandere x reader#yandere#tw. yandere#tw. punishment#tw. dark content#yandere male#male yandere#yandere x chubby reader#yandere jujutsu kaisen
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End of the World (m) | myg | teaser
→ Summary: Your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? → Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: science fiction, apocalyptic, survival, co-dependency to stay alive + heavy angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers, forced proximity (because love that shit) → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: still writing (approx 10-20k) it’s a one-shot! → Author’s note: hiya. I’m currently writing this apocalyptic story with Yoongi, because… well. I’m fucking scared. So this is me working through and with my fear for something that I’m afraid is actually going to happen. We don’t need to talk about it, because a lot of bad shit is happening all over the world 😭 This is purely a story, though made up by my fears, yeah. Anyway, it’s okay if you’re not into it! The vibe for it is like The Last of Us and maybe a bit Fallout, I think if you enjoy that type of stuff, you’ll enjoy this one too. But it’s really heavy, but there’s a decent amount of fluff to balance it out, because, it’s still a fanfiction and it wouldn’t be that without some good old fluff and smut 🥰
You know you must move, but before you leave, there’s a promise to fulfill for Yuri.
You relieve yourself and step back onto the road, eyes fixed on the distant horizon that seems miraculously untouched by the ravages of war. That glimmer of hope pulls you forward. You have to reach it. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, you must get there.
It’s your only chance.
You walk and walk—days blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earth’s violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you can’t even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, you’d have long since fallen.
You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far you’ve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.
Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat as parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and you’ve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon you’ve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.
Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step.
Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; you’re still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat.
No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.
You’ve lost track of time—is it still September?
The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford. You feel like you’re unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.
When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. You’re nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it is—a lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced you’ve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.
The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by the war, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you can’t escape.
You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.
“Who are you?” a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.
→ Do you want to join Yoongi on a quest for survival as the world crumbles around you? Let me know and I’ll tag you when it drops 💜
Also please let me know if you’re interested, excited about it— otherwise I’m probably just gonna post it on my ao3 only, lol. I’m scared 🫣
Read the second teaser + book cover [here]!
It's been posted!!!!
#new fic alert#yoongi x reader#yoongi fic#yoongi smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi x you#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x oc#min yoongi fanfic#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi fluff#yoongi fanfic#suga fluff#suga fic#suga x reader#suga x y/n#suga x you#myg x you#myg x reader#myg fic#myg smut#bts smut fic#bts smut#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts fic#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic
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ᴀɴɢᴇʟs ᴏғ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴜʀᴏɢɪ & ᴋᴀʀᴀᴋᴜ
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!hashira!reader, noncon, breeding kink, descriptions of blood and injuries, instant loss / bad end trope, dvp, the boys are meanies, choking, degradation, lots of cum, brief oral sex ( m! ), fingering, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 ∣ @serenesaku [ thank you so much, i hope you like it! ]
“If you drop her, our fun’s over before it even starts!” you can faintly hear Karaku harping, and your head rolls around on your neck— it feels like jelly, hardly able to support the weight of your head as it droops backwards to look up at the demon who has you in his grasp. his talons are wrapped so tightly around one of your wrists that you can see a trickle of ruby, feel it as it runs down the length of your forearm. the blood mingles with the dirt and scuff that clings to your skin as you hang there, suspended in the air by merely his claw’s grip on your arm. “Give her to me already!”
all of the muscles in your arm were on fire, sore and aching, and you felt as though the pull of your weight on the one limb had knocked it out of socket. that wasn’t the worst of your injuries, however, but most of the pain from the battle had numbed at this point, anyways.
you don’t even remember where your sword had clattered, broken and useless. wherever was, it was well out of your reach as the demon flies you higher and higher, as if planning to perch you atop the moon itself.
it had been quite the game to him already, flying you higher, and then loosening his grip to let you slip just far enough to gasp and fear the plummet, before he gripped your arm again. at this point, you were praying to whatever god could allow this to happen that they would simply kill you already and get it over with. being toyed with would’ve been scary enough, but you were Hashira, and you were supposed to win this fight. not become a demon’s marionette under the moonlight.
Urogi glances down, smirking with putrid delight as he sees the dulled, defeat-snuffed gaze as you take in your position. “Wishing I would really drop you, demon slayer?” he was mocking you, spitting the words as if they were soaked in acid. “Let you die this easily?” a low cackle bubbles up from his throat, amber eyes burning. “Not a chance.” the violent flap of his wigs send blades of cold wind through your hair and ruffles your torn uniform, you could swear the sheer force of it nicks your cheek as he swoops downward, diving towards the ground. “We’re not done playing yet!” the speed makes your head spin, but you’ve not enough energy to squirm or try to stop the impending collision, so you close your eyes, brows furrowed, and brace for impact.
it comes, but not in the way you expect. with a flick of his talons, Urogi flings you from his grasp and into Karaku’s, who laughs wickedly at the way you smack against his chest like a sack of potatoes, and then try your best to grasp his shoulders. you wanted to regain some semblance of control over yourself, find your footing, but he wasn’t having it. both fists grasp your wrists and pull them back. your knees buckle with a gasp of pain, and you’re once again supported only by a demon’s will, and his hold on your arms. you dangle there, clenching your weak fists. “‘M… going to…”
Karaku’s emerald gems light up, “You’re going to what? Kill me?” you didn’t have to nod, but you do so weakly, and he leans close. only inches from your lips, his fiery breath washes over you. you shy away from a demon for the first time in your life, letting out a soft whimper, “You’re not going to do anything, girl, but let me tell you what we’re going to do to you.”
as Karaku speaks, his lips moving and grazing your cheek the closer he gets, you feel the ground shake beneath you when Urogi lands behind you, talons cracking rocks beneath his powerful feet.
“We’re going to rip this demon killing uniform off,” Urogi’s claws work diligently to make good on his counterpart’s promise, shredding the fabric of your top, down through your pants until the black garments fall away in defeated, little strips. Karaku croons yo you, in amusement, “it’s not like it’s useful, anymore. Your demon killing days are over.” you let out a grunt of discomfort, feeling the drag of his talons against your stomach, biting at your vulnerable flesh. “But your demon serving days? Well, those have just begun.”
“— And we’ll defile your defenseless, human body.” Karaku flashes insanely sharp teeth in a daunting grin as Urogi finishes his threat, his talons grasping your thighs to hoist them up. your feet, that were dragging against the ground prior to this not sweep from the ground, and dangle helplessly as he spreads your legs. completely exposed to the one thing you were meant to hate in this world, the thing you’ve trained your whole life to kill, you felt disgusting and shameful, and your thighs twitched and fought against his strength to close. “Until it all but gives out.”
Karaku takes one look at your cunt as it’s presented to him, and a low gurgle of lust rumbles in his throat, dropping your hands to, instead, jab two fingers inside abruptly. you cry out and immediately grapple at his arm with one hand, trying to pull his hand out, while the other grabs for his horn and forehead, pushing with all your might, squirming and writhing, but you’re trapped. “Stop—!!” but Karaku’s guffawing drowns out your weak demand. his fingers are thick and rough as they pump into your unprepared core, though the rough treatment coaxes your arousal to life, encouraging you to soak his knuckles as he scissors them inside you. pressing his calloused fingertips against your inner walls, he can feel them spasm and tighten.
“Tighter than I expected,” his voice is a low, raspy growl as his fingers work relentlessly inside you, pummeling over delicate nerves. you can’t help but pant and groan, but you try to steel your glare, and push him off. “Your little Hashira buddies haven’t fucked you out yet?” his digits spread, testing the elasticity of your insides, and you moan, haplessly. “All those muscles and no brains. They promote a useless, little piece of fuck meat and don’t even take advantage?”
Urogi giggles from behind you, his lips close to your ear as he hisses. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that.”
Karaku, using his free hand to retrieve his cock, wraps his fist around the girth and pumps it to life at the same velocity with which he finger fucks you, and his fangs peek out against his bottom lip as he bites down on it, moaning low and guttural. “I broke her down, so I want to fuck her first.”
Urogi had been taunting you, kissing at the shell of your ear, whispering threats and excitedly watching you jerk and squirm to get away from him, but when Karaku says this, he pauses. you can feel the air behind a powerful grit of his teeth, as if Karaku’s claim annoyed him. “We broke her together—“
“Shut up,” Karaku waved off his counter’s nagging, grasping his ready cock at the base and guiding between your thighs. replacing his fingers with his cock was a sudden switch, and a size difference your body wasn’t prepared for. “I’m already in.” your eyes widen, your nails scraping at his horns and his face as he forced his way inside you. your walls spasmed and fluttered around the intruder, clamping down, instead of trying to push him out, and your back arches. the movement was intended to bring you a moment of reprieve, and shove him out of you, but the curve of your body only gives him the room he needs to slide hilt deep.
“F—fuck!” you exclaim; you can’t help it. the force behind his nesting is almost too much to bear, and you grind your teeth, glaring up at him weakly, with your thighs trembling. Urogi’s claws dig into them, blood beading to the surface as you struggle. “Y—you despicable, vile… uh!!” you were just about to make your stand, demand he pull out of you or else you would find a way to kill him with your bare hands, but his hips rocked suddenly. back and forth, falling into a rough and hungry pace that had you scrambling for breath, your feet flopping in the air. “Y-you can’t…!!”
Karaku howls with pleasure, both of his hands now wrapping around your throat, instead, a wild and primal look in his wide eyes. his lips are etched into a permanent, open mouthed smile as he fucks you with reckless abandon, cackling and crowing as he does so. “Aha! It’s been such a long time since I’ve had tight, warm human cunt!” his thumbs press against your windpipe, teasing it closed until you’re clawing at his wrists, gurgling pleas to breathe. it was hard to focus on anything but the lack of oxygen, and yet the sound of your squelching and the smack of his balls against you pounded in both of your ears. “It’s good,” his tongue flicks at his teeth, his breaths coming out in ragged breaths, “the more I choke you, the tighter your cunt squeezes me!”
Urogi was smiling again, his eyes flickering down to the join of your bodies to watch Karaku’s cock slide in and out at a rapid pace. if he zeroed in, he could see your entrance clench down on him, as if to keep him anchored within you, and he chortles low, nipping at your earlobe. “It almost seems like she likes it, listen to how wet she is. Choke her harder, I want to see her cheeks turn purple.”
you shake your head, fervent, “D-don’t!!”
you didn’t want them to hear how your body betrayed you, how it spat and sputtered, grateful to be decimated with demon cock, but even that scream sounded less reluctant. your sounds were changing, twisting from protest to pleasure, and you couldn’t stop it. the tighter the demon gripped your throat, the more pleasure you derived from being taken against your will. the wetter you got.
Karaku’s brows knit together, focusing all of his energy into pounding deep, as he hissed through clamped teeth, “Cumming for you, little demon killer. Going to fill up that belly!”
you didn’t have time to process what his threat had been, because a few, forceful thrusts against your limit, his tip battering your insides, and he erupts with a wail, giving your neck one final, right squeeze that you thought for sure would crush your trachea. it doesn’t, somehow, and when his grip loosens, you choke on a massive influx of air, uttering a defeated, “N-no, not inside—“ though it was too late. you could feel his cum in your guts, much more than a human could produce, sloshing about as he continued. he didn’t pull out, or even slow his pace. dribbling white release out with every buck of his powerful hips, his climax only seemed to spur him to fuck you harder.
“Do you feel that, Hashira?” Karaku taunts, grabbing your hair at the roots to pull your head up, forcing you to stare deep into his eyes. every thrust pushes his release deeper into you, and you mewl and groan, “You’re full of demon cum.” your eyes roll around in your head when it shakes, but Karaku swipes his mouth over yours, tasting your kiss with his long, invasive tongue. “You’re my breeding bitch now.”
“Ours. We’re supposed to be sharing her, did you forget?” Urogi nagged, dropping one of your legs to free a hand. your toe scrapes against the ground, leg limply dangling, but you don’t have the energy to use it to fight back— all of your resistance Karaku had already fucked from your body. you assume, with Urogi’s shifting behind you, that he too was grabbing and readying his cock, and you groan at the thought of being handed off for this to happen again. if you had to satisfy them both, you would surely not survive this night. “Give me room.”
“She’s too tight,” Karaku barked, “give me a minute to open her up some more.”
Urogi snarls, and rubs the swollen head of his cock against the brutal fucking you’re getting, causing your eyelids to flutter as you try to look back at him. surely, he didn’t intend to force his way into the same hole at the same time?
“We’ll stretch her out together. I’m not waiting anymore, I want to break her, too.”
Urogi worms his way inside, spearing your elastic entrance and forcing you to stretch to not only accommodate Karaku’s brutality, but now Urogi’s cock, too. they were roughly the same size and shape, at least they felt that way, but the sensation of them rubbing together inside of you, bulging against your inner walls, was utterly maddening. you felt like you were being torn in half, or as if you were a rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war between the two demons. Urogi was just as eager and cruel as his counterpart, falling into a merciless rhythm opposite of Karaku, so as Karaku was retracting, Urogi was pounding deeper, keeping your limits brutalized with not a moment to recover.
it was difficult, at this point, to do anything short of blacking out. your eyes rolled around in your head, your mouth hanged open, drool leaking from the corners and mews and helpless babbling fell free. your body slumped, in between the two sturdy demons as they all but fucked right through you.
Urogi moans, much louder and huskier, breathing hot on your neck and in your ear. “She’s so much more receptive now that she’s been tenderized,” he takes a sharp inhale, his talons tickling your chin as he tilts your head back, instead, to smash his hungry lips against yours.
the kiss is wrong. rough and forceful, and you can’t fight it, so your mouth hangs open, gurgling quiet pleas for some sort of mercy. Urogi ignores them, and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you worry his tongue, that was prodding at every inch of your mouth, would eventually choke you as fiercely as Karaku had with his hands.
he breaks the kiss for a moment, to pull back and admire the broken expression on your bruised countenance, before he tilts his head. “You’re being ruined, you know? Turned into a mindless fuckdoll.” a wide grin teases his taut lips, “Your body is ours, demon slayer, to destroy as we please. To breed when we feel the need.” if you had any tears left, they would’ve streaked the dirt on your cheeks, but you couldn’t cry.
it felt too good.
“I’d… rather… die…” you breathe out, uneven and trembling, trying to hold on to what little denial you could still muster.
“Shut up, breeder.” Karaku chomped at your clavicle, sucking and biting, leaving his mark on you. “We’ll kill you if we get bored of stuffing your holes, but you won’t get that lucky for a good, long while.” Karaku was grunting again, speeding up, as he must’ve caught on the trail of a second orgasm, and you started to whine and whimper to punctuate each thrust. all of the stimulation— the rubbing against his shaft as Karaku pounded and the way you clench and milk the two cocks fighting for ownership of your pussy— must’ve pushed Urogi over the edge, because he dropped off along the way. coming undone and bucking his hips madly, whimpering with sordid delight as he kisses you again, his release joining Karaku’s and the load already inside as they cum together this time.
a strangled cry bubbles out of your throat, the pressure on your belly more than you’ve ever felt. you could feel a faint bulge, as if they’d inflated you like a balloon, as the excess that refused to fit seeps out between your legs, splattering on the ground underneath you. you could hold absolutely no more, and they both knew that, too. as if coordinated, they both release you, and you crumble to the ground on your belly, sliding off both of their cocks in the process. another eruption of their release oozes out from your abused cunt as you lay there, fucked out and weak.
“Look at you.” Urogi swoons, planting one claw on your arm to pin you in place, squatting down to your level. his cock swung in front of your face, still hard and smelling of your body. it made you dizzy, so you tried to look away, smearing your face in the dirt to escape. “You’re no soldier, girl. All of that training did nothing for your weak mind or your easily ruined body. Break your sword and feed you a couple of demon cocks, and your true purpose is revealed.”
you hear footsteps on the other side, and only a moment passes before Karaku grasps a fistful of your hair. you were familiar, now, with that terribly painful grip. and, upon jerking your head upwards, your open mouth is plugged by his cock, giving you no choice but to taste the cum that frosts it. it’s raw and musky, and your eyes roll back upon swallowing the taste, gurgling weakly. he laughs at this, pushing your head down to force it deeper. “Hanging off our cocks like a pathetic, human puppet.”
#karaku#karaku x reader#Karaku smut#karaku x you#urogi#urogi x reader#urogi x you#urogi smut#hantengu#demon slayer x you#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer#kny#kny x reader#kny x you#kny smut#kimetsu no yaiba
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