#Those deplorable eyes

[captainkurosolaire]

~ Possessor ov' th' Sight ~

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

[broodybuck]

Title: Through Your Window

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, masturbation, horny Bucky Barnes, stalker Bucky Barnes, pining, couch sex, Inspired by You (TV 2018)

Summary: Bucky finds a new muse from his window and it's you. He's captivated from the first moment he sees you but can't imagine he could ever have you.

[ao3 link]

He tries not to stare but he's been trained to observe. To hide in the shadows and watch. He's partially hidden behind the curtain of his window but he should conceal himself fully if he wants to keep his eyes on you.

You're not looking, you're distracted, treading around the apartment while collecting items here and there. You are across the alleyway in the building opposite his. It feels like a cruel gift. You're right in his view, he doesn't even need to strain to see you. He merely needs to walk to his window and watch.

Today, you're cleaning clutter from your living room. To put these items away means that you're bending down, arching at your hips, reaching over your head. It's allowing him to see every curve on you, especially with the sheer blouse and tight jeans you're wearing.

Why would you wear that, Bucky wonders. To entice him... that shirt is so sheer, he can see your bra. It's light pink and lacy. He licks his lips staring at it. His skin burns. He can't move. He's frozen, fixated on you until you walk out of his line of sight away from the windows. He sighs quietly to himself.

This is unfair, he decides. He hasn't looked at a woman since he's gotten free. Now, he found you. Your apartment is perfectly visible from his kitchen window. You, who leaves your blinds open at all hours of the day and walks around with those hips, those breasts.

He's hard. He's avoided getting turned on until now. A loud crash breaks Bucky from his trance. He looks down to realize he broke the coffee mug in his hand, causing half of the cup to smash onto the floor.

Fuck it, he needs to jerk off.

Putting his hand on himself feels like an ocean of relief but a wave of immense shame washes over him too. Because he hasn't retreated to the bedroom, he's pressing himself into the wall of his kitchen to keep the window still in view. So he can still see you as you walk back into the living room.

God, you're beautiful. He wants to touch you. He wants so many things he's not allowed. And yet, he's furiously jerking off to the thought of it all. Watching your every move, pumping himself harder and harder.

He's deplorable. He shouldn't be doing this. But it feels like he can't breathe until he's done. Splattering the wall in his release, breathing raggedly, forehead pressing against the window frame.

At least, you'll never know.

After careful consideration, Bucky decides that fantasies are okay. They are harmless and hence, why he's allowing himself to watch you across the way and touch himself whenever he needs to. Which is a lot, by the way, probably too much. But it's not hurting anyone.

After a week, Bucky has learned many things about you. How you like your coffee, your favorite food. You don't have many friends over, you don't go out often. You work at home from your laptop. Thankfully, at a desk placed in your living room where Bucky has a perfect view of you. He loves your little face of concentration. Sometimes, you bite your lip and as cute as it is, it makes him so hard he has to get off every time you do it.

He's counted the floors and windows and figured out which apartment you live in. He knows it sounds creepy, but he's not planning to break in. He just wanted to learn your name. He learns it when he sneaks into your building and finds your mailbox downstairs. Then, looks you up with a quick Google search. Now he can scream y/n every time he comes.

That's all he wanted, a little more for his fantasies. For his little treat every day. He doesn't have much else except therapy and working at the bodega down the street. So, he's letting himself have this. He's letting himself have you.

Except, he can't just stop at your name. He wants to learn everything about you. He wants his fantasies to feel real. So he goes through your mail. He finds your credit card bill and takes pictures before perfectly sealing the envelopes back up and returning them to your mailbox.

He now knows what stores you shop at, what restaurants you eat at, the bookstore you occasionally frequent. And he begins going to all these places too. On his own, of course. He likes just knowing you were there, wondering what you picked off the menu or which book you chose.

Unfortunately, this is precisely what leads to him accidentally running into you. Literally. He turns around with his coffee to-go cup and bangs into you, spilling his coffee all over one of your too-thin blouses.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," Bucky jumps for napkins.

His impulse is to help clean the spill himself but it's all over your chest, more specifically your breasts. His hands stop mid-motion, reaching the napkins toward you.

You accept the napkins shyly.

"It's okay," you tell him as you start dabbing your wet shirt.

Since the coffee soaked through your shirt, Bucky can see too much of the outline of your breasts. He averts his gaze. When you look back up at him, he eventually meets your eyes again. Now he can see the distinct specks of color in your eyes.

"I feel terrible. Can I get you a new shirt?" Bucky offers.

You pause, your mouth quirking into a smile.

"A new shirt?"

"Please, I'll pay for a new one or something," Bucky urges.

"How about you just buy me a coffee and we'll be even," you suggest.

"Of course."

He thinks he's safe. He survived the coffee incident and left shortly after buying you a drink. He thought it was done. Then he ran into you again.

It really shouldn't come as a surprise since he's frequenting all your favorite places. But this one is all his fault because he went back to your building and you caught him in the mailroom. Luckily, he was empty-handed but you still recognized him.

"Hey, aren't you coffee-spilling-guy?" you smirk.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry again... about that."

"I'm just teasing. I didn't know you lived here."

He shifts uncomfortably.

"I was actually visiting a friend," he lies.

"Oh, and getting their mail?"

He winces, you're too smart for him to trick, and already being this close to you again is doing bad things to him. Now that you're not covered in coffee, there's nothing masking the smell of your perfume. It's floral and too sweet. He wants to lick your neck.

When he doesn't answer, you fill in the silence.

"It's none of my business. I'm y/n by the way, I don't think we exchanged names."

You put out your hand and he looks oddly terrified of your palm but he manages to shake your hand briefly before informing you his name is "Bucky".

"Well, maybe I'll see you around, Bucky."

"Yeah, maybe."

You smile at him and he gives you half of one back. Then he nods, shuffling out of the mailroom and out the front door.

He needs to stop going out, Bucky decides. He can't risk running into you. He's already encountered two close calls — both too close for his liking.

The window is safe, so the window is where he'll stay. He's standing a few feet back watching you work today. He's already been here an hour.

You lean back in your chair and stretch your arms then you head into the kitchen and come back with a cup of water. You walk it over to the window sill and pour some water into a plant sitting on the ledge.

Then, you pause and slowly your eyes lift up. You look right through the window at Bucky watching you.

Bucky can't breathe in a terrible way. It's far too late to duck but he does so anyway.

He's been caught. Now he can never watch you again.

The worst thing happens two days later. Bucky is only outside because of his weekly therapy appointment. He's walking home, avoiding all your favorite spots, but you still manage to run into him.

This time from across the street. You see him first and it takes a second for him to notice you and then stop dead in his tracks, looking afraid to move.

You hurry over to him and he looks so tense, you're nervous to get too close.

"Hey, funny running into you again."

"I live over there," he points defensively.

"I know," you smile. "I saw you."

"I wasn't trying to stare, I..."

"I'm not mad. You were just looking out your window. It's not like that's a crime," you laugh. "You know, if you weren't so attractive, I'd probably be more freaked out."

Bucky visibly gulps. "You think I'm attractive?"

"Yeah," you shrug. "Hoping the feeling is mutual."

His eyes go wide, your face blushes in response.

"Sorry, that was too forward," you apologize.

"The feeling is very mutual," he responds low. It sends a vibration down your spine.

"You know, we keep running into each other. Maybe the universe wants us to have coffee together. I have some up at my place."

"Oh," he hesitates.

"Maybe you could spill some on me," you tease.

He laughs, thankfully, getting the joke. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"I'd love a coffee," he says.

The coffee is a move. That should've been obvious but Bucky didn't realize how weak he'd be the second you made one. Because after you set the coffee cup down in front of him, you just lean over and kiss him.

Bucky's not sure how to describe the feeling of all his fantasies coming true. How many times had he imagined your lips, exactly what they'd feel like, taste like? They're perfect. Far better than he could dream.

He knew this wouldn't be good if he ever got this. Got you. He knew he'd lose all sense of control and he eagerly leans back in, kissing you more forcefully. You moan against his lips and that sends a shudder through him.

"Be honest," you draw back to say. "Were you watching me through the window?"

"Yes," he admits huskily. He waits expecting you to pull away but you lie down on the couch and pull him with you by the collar of his shirt.

"That doesn't scare you?" he asks, hovering over you.

You shake your head, dragging him down to your lips and kissing him again.

Bucky has one mind to tell you how long he's been watching you, fantasizing about you, dying to have you. But he knows that won't sound sane. Besides, you're currently rolling your hips up into his groin which is making his head spin.

He groans and lets his weight crush yours so your bodies fall flush. You immediately start grinding up into him which drives him crazy.

He hasn't done this in a while but his instincts take over and he moves with you, sucking at the skin on your neck while you moan and play with his hair. Your fingers feel like silk, lacing through his brown locks and down his neck. He shivers, kissing you.

Bucky reaches down and slips his hand under your skirt. He gasps when he feels how soaked your underwear is.

"Have you been thinking about me?" he growls, the thought alone makes him feral.

You nod as he pushes the fabric aside to tease you. You arch back, sucking in a sharp breath with a smile.

"I've seen you—" you pant. "Watching me— for weeks."

Bucky's eyes go wide. His hand pauses.

"And once," you continue, eyes locked with his. "I saw your eyes closed and your face — you were coming, I realized."

He swallows pulling his hand back but you grab his wrist, keeping him there.

"You were getting off. I couldn't believe the hot guy watching me was that turned on just from looking at me. You couldn't even control yourself."

Bucky closes his eyes. "I have no restraint with you."

"Good," you grin and reach for the belt of his pants, unbuckling the strap, then pulling the fly open.

When you grab his cock, he groans loud. He's so hard in your hand, you lick your lips hungrily. You tug him forward and he moves in between your legs, taking hold of himself so you let go.

Then he pushes inside of you in one, easy glide. He stops, breathing heavily over you with his eyes closed. You frame his face.

"Wanna see you make that face again," you purr.

"Fuck, y/n," he rasps.

He rocks his hips into you and ramps up to an earnest pace.

"Oh fuck," you whine, grabbing onto him tighter. He buries his face in your neck, turning to speak roughly in your ear.

"When you come, I'm not gonna forget your face. It'll be all I dream about now."

"How're you so sure I'll come," you try to dare but you're already getting way too close with the way he's ramming into you.

He slows his pace and sits back to glare at you. You bite your lip as he hooks your thighs and pulls you closer, forcing himself deeper inside you.

He doesn't say anything just spreads your thighs apart, pressing them down into the cushions, and fucks you harder than before. His one hand finds your clit and he starts making circles with his thumb.

Your eyes roll back. There's no doubt you're gonna come. You moan out, gripping the armrest behind you.

"Bucky, please," you pant.

He presses forward, cradles your body to turn you both on your sides, and holds you against his chest now. Your thighs are hiked up as high as they can go. The new angle makes you cry out with every new thrust and he's somehow gaining more fervor, fucking you even harder until your thighs start trembling.

He doesn't stop until your orgasm crashes over you like hot lava, melting you from the inside and pouring over every inch of you. You scream into his chest while he keeps fucking you through it.

You're gasping, trying to breathe through the rapture while feeling how sensitive you are around his cock still slamming into you.

You're slurring something, but you're not even sure if you're telling him to stop or keep going. Your eyes roll back again, every inch of you won't stop vibrating, and you're not sure how much more you can take.

Then he slams into you hard and stops abruptly, fully buried inside you. The groan he makes sounds almost painful. His eyes are squeezed shut again, you recognize the expression he makes. You flush hot as you watch him come.

You both sit in the sounds of your labored breathing. You're still wrapped around him, he's still inside you.

"It was better up close," you whisper cheekily, carding a few fingers through his hair.

He sucks in a breath and looks at you with so much intensity that your hand freezes in his hair, you're scared to speak.

"I'd watch you make that face every day if you'd let me."

"You just wanna watch?" you grin.

He shakes his head, then pauses to reconsider it, then shakes his head again.

"Whatever you want," he says.

"That could be hot to roleplay it."

"Roleplay... what?"

"Our story," you smirk. "I'll get myself off while you stand against the window, watching me."

He breathes in shakily, already too turned on by the idea.

"You have no idea how bad you are for me," he gravels.

"Bad for you?" you laugh.

"I have no control around you."

"Good," you tell him, brushing his hair back. "I don't want you to."

[quitesins]

Deku’s Type!

Masterlist

Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is said to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!

The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…

“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.

Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”

Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.

Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s cackle the loudest of them all.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”

“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs, “you have such a type!”

Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.

“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.

Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”

Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but twinkling with an unfamiliar mirth.

“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.

“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”

Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.

“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”

“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts, “they’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”

“Yeah so he can fucking fix them,” Katsuki snorts.

“It’s your saviour complex,” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.

Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”

“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”

“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”

Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.

“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”

Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.

It feels wrong to view the women of his past that way. To view you that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—

“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.

“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to take care of others!”

“Think he more than takes cares of ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more than familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”

This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.

Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.

Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.

Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.

My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…

Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…

[zaldritzosrose]

A Banquet of Consequences (Regent!Aemond x Wife!Reader)

Summary: It was not the lies that Sylvi spewed that upset you, nor the fact she had once been your husband’s comfort. It was her insistence that, even now, she would be his choice over you. You had always been one to believe that actions begot consequences, and Sylvi was about to be served a banquet of them.

TW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, oral (m receiving), mentions of sex work, profanity, sexual innuendo, p in v sex, forced voyeurism (Sylvi watches), allusions to imprisonment and violence

Words: 3188

Thank you, @anjelicawrites and @@kaelatargaryen, for this idea, and to @anjelicawrites , @legitalicat @thenameswinter99 for betaing!

(Before anyone comes at me...Yes, in canon Sylvi is paid/persuaded to say the things she does by Mysaria. No, I am not saying she's some evil, deplorable human. It's just a story.)

You paced the floor of your chambers, scarcely believing the words your handmaiden had brought you.

“A banquet! They believe we are banqueting while they starve!” you were visibly seething, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides.

What was worse, was who the lies seemed to spill from. Sylvi, the madame your husband had once sought comfort in. You never begrudged Aemond that your marriage had not begun as one of love and affection so to hear him seeking those softer endeavours elsewhere had not surprised you.

But on being interrupted by his brother, Aemond had come to you and admitted everything. Sounding torn between anger and guilt. He had been forgiven and your marriage now seemed better for it. He came to you when he needed comfort, when he needed a soft embrace to calm the storm within. And you welcomed it with more than open arms.

So, to now hear that same woman spewing lies about him, it made your blood boil. You were not usually one for rage, Aemond had enough for both of you. But since the change in your marriage, you had felt ever more protective of him.

“That is what I heard, my lady, a worrying thought indeed.” Your handmaiden was gentle with her words, hoping to calm you even a little.

You stopped pacing, a plan forming slowly in your mind.

“Say nothing of this to anyone, especially my husband.”

The young girl nodded, bowing her head as she left you.

Aemond had taken his regency in his stride, ensuring he ruled with both strategy and fear. His methods may not be loved by all, including you at times, but he did what he believed was right.

When he met you for your usual walk in the gardens, he noticed a tense set to your shoulders, and he knew better than to not ask about it.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, watching every small change in expression you took as your arm linked with his.

You could not tell him, not yet. You needed to be sure your plan would bear fruit before you mentioned a single word to him.

“I am fine, husband, nothing to concern yourself with.” You replied, offering him a smile even he could see did not reach your eyes.

Aemond only hummed in response. You were usually open with your emotions, even with him, so to see you so closed and tense meant there was something bubbling beneath your surface.

As you walked, you could see him glance at you every so often, as though he was watching for some break in your calm façade. But you kept yourself as reserved and stoic as you were able to, knowing everything would be revealed soon enough.

The note Sylvi received was quite unexpected.

Your presence is requested at the command of his Grace, Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen.

She had not seen the prince since he had stormed out of the brothel after Aegon’s torment. What she did wonder, though, was whether he heard the rumours she had helped spread. There were many a listening ear in the city, even within her own walls. Not all of them were under her control.

But she knew better than to disobey. The prince was not known for his forgiving nature.

You hoped your note had been received and understood. The gold coins placed in the hand of a passing squire had surely been enough for it to be passed on. You could only hope that Sylvi would believe it was truly from Aemond himself.

You had made sure further instructions were given by the squire. For Sylvi to come to the Keep that evening, alone. For her to then be shown to Aemond’s chambers and to await him there.

Only then could your plan find its beginning.

Aemond, for now, was none the wiser. Though he was observant enough to know something was amiss with you, but after your first dismissal of the topic, he was reluctant to bring it up again. 

Aemond was still busy with his council meeting when you made yourself comfortable in his chambers. You had dressed yourself in the jewels and fabrics he loved on you most. A dress of black lace with a green underlayer, and the emerald and sapphire necklace he had made especially for your last nameday.

You seated yourself by the fire, the candles burning low and bathing the entire room in a warm, but dim glow. There was something about the harsh décor and dim lighting of your husband’s chambers that gave you a rush of something sinister. Making your whole plan seem even more perfect.

Wine had been poured and the cup sat snugly in your hand while you waited. And soon the knock you had been anticipating came. The servant you had instructed to bring Sylvi had been ordered to take your lack of response as a sign to enter. You could not risk your presence being revealed too soon.

The look on Sylvi’s face when she saw you was more delicious than you had expected.

“My lady…?” Sylvi could barely hide both her surprise and disappointment, making no secret of the way she scanned the room for any sign of Aemond.

“My husband is not here, yet.” You replied, taking a long and purposeful sip of your wine.

You extended a hand, gesturing for Sylvi to sit and when she hesitated you gave the verbal command.

“Sit, we will wait together.”

Your voice was cold enough for you to visibly see the shiver run over Sylvi’s body. Her face set now into a mix of fear and concern for her own safety.

“My apologies for any misunderstanding, my lady, but the summons I received was from the Prince?” Sylvi tried to sound confident, but the whole situation had her on edge.

“Was it? Can you be sure of that?” you asked, swilling your wine around the cup.

When Sylvi said nothing, you continued.

“Maybe the note was as much a lie as the ones you have been spreading through the city?”

There it was; the fear in Sylvi’s eyes. You had never thought yourself a person who would enjoy revenge or the fear in others. But you found yourself thoroughly enjoying this. Your head tilted, a small smile on your lips.

“Did you think it would go unnoticed? That the venom you spread would remain secret?”

Sylvi shifted in her seat, getting more uncomfortable in your presence by the second. You could almost hear the cogs of her mind turning.

“What I said may not have been entirely truthful, but there is no lie in saying the smallfolk suffer while…” Sylvi seemed to catch herself before she truly put her foot in it.

But you were not going to let her off so easily. She was freely admitting her role but there was another question you wished to ask.

“Did he truly reject you so badly you must now sully his name?”

The change in her expression gave you a rush of satisfaction. From fear to anger.

“Rejection? Your husband chose me time and time again over you, my lady.”

It was your turn to seethe, of course she would bring that up. But you were not prepared to let her get under your skin.

“He may have come to you first, but Aemond returned to me. He remains with me. He only paid you.”

Sylvi fidgeted with the tassels of her shawl. There were things she wanted to say that would surely get her imprisoned, if not worse for speaking ill to the Regent’s wife. But her jaw was set tight, her lips a thin line. In her heart, she knew the truth. Aemond had come to her to get what he could not get from you. The gold he paid had meant little to her.

“He may have paid me, my lady, but the bond we shared is something you will never achieve.”

Her words had your glass slam to the table beside you. Was she truly trying to claim she was his favourite, even now?

You were about to retort when the doors opened and Aemond strolled through. The prince looked at you, then Sylvi, then back to you. Confusion clear on his face.

“Have I missed something?” he asked you, his brow raised as he crossed the room to stand by your seat.

“I heard some things that are quite…concerning, husband. Slander about yourself, our marriage and your regency.”

His lips quirked a little at your tone, the faintest trace of mischief. Maybe this is what you had been hiding when you would tell him you were ‘fine’. Aemond came to stand behind you, leaning on the back of your seat and keeping his eye trained on Sylvi.

“Hmm? Do tell, sweet wife.”

Sylvi shifted in her seat. You were not a stranger to the intense stare Aemond had, having been on its receiving end many a time. You let her stew a moment longer, your own eyes never leaving her.

“Tell him what you just said to me.” Your voice held enough of a command that Sylvi knew she had no choice but to answer. And she knew exactly what claim you referred to.

“I…I claimed you preferred myself over your wife, my prince,” she said softly, the tension thick in the room to the point of suffocation.

Aemond could not help the smirk on his lips. He knew there would be more, but that claim was very curious.

“Do you believe because I paid for comfort during a time of weakness, that I would choose you over my wife?” Aemond almost whispered the words, the low grumble of his tone almost as deadly as when he shouted and raged.

Sylvi stuttered, the first time since she arrived that you had truly seen her afraid. There was no denying Aemond was far more immediately intimidating than you. Your hand raised and laced your fingers with his. In the time since he had admitted his secret to you, your bond had only strengthened, both in public and more private endeavours.

“That is not the only vileness she weaves, my love.”

Aemond tilted his head down to look at you with intrigue.

“Our dear Madame has spread vicious rumours that you are throwing lavish banquets with whores and dancers while your people starve.”

Before either of you could utter another word, Sylvi leaned forward and grasped at your hand.

“Please, my lady, I did not spread such lies by choice. The Lady Mysaria sent word and I only obeyed…” Sylvi’s voice was desperate, her grip on your hand like a vice. But you felt no sympathy.

“So, you are a traitor as well as a liar?” you asked, tugging your hand from her grip.

The pleading in her eyes would likely have endeared you, had she not insulted the marriage you had tried hard to rebuild.

“And what is more, you dare to still think you hold the Prince’s favour over me?”

Your hand tightened around Aemond’s. Part of you knew she was wrong, that your husband had truly chosen you. But there was that small, vicious part of your brain that made you doubt it. Aemond could see the tight set of your shoulders, the small signs of anxiety as you chewed on the inner skin of your lip.

“Is that what you think, Sylvi? That I would still choose you?” Aemond asked.

Sylvi thought for a moment, there was no way out of this. She was already painted a traitor for the lies she had spread against Aemond and the crown, nothing she would say would bring about mercy.

“If you did not favour me, then you would have not continued to return, my prince.” She said simply. Despite knowing Aemond routinely refused her more carnal advances.

Aemond hummed, leaning down and whispering to you.

“Shall I show her who I favour, sweet wife?”

The low thrum of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Aemond was not usually one for public affections, even in such a small group. His hands found your shoulders, stroking the sliver of exposed skin. Sylvi looked more than confused, moving to stand as though she needed to leave.

Aemond noticed immediately.

“You will sit.” Aemond’s eye darted immediately to Sylvi, who seemed to freeze.

Aemond left your side and stalked over to her, a smirk finding his lips. His proximity was enough to have Sylvi returning to her seat.

“You will sit, you will watch. Then I will deal with your other…indiscretions.”

He then turned to you, extending a hand which you gladly took. You let Aemond lead you to his bed, his other hand pushing the chair you had vacated out of Sylvi’s line of sight completely. You were slow to shed your clothing, letting Aemond drink you in and in all honesty, putting on a show for Sylvi. To prove you were the better woman, for more your benefit than anyone else’s.

Aemond pulled his lip between his teeth as he watched you, one by one undoing the buttons that held the outer layer of your dress closed. But you knew that look, you had come to know it quite well more recently. The look that told you there would be no teasing, no waiting. That he was in charge now.

When your dress finally fell to the floor, only then did Aemond undress himself. Shedding layer after layer with little to no care, his intent solely on you. It was his hands the tugged the rest of your dress from your body, followed quickly by your smallclothes. You did not even bother to hide yourself, even from Sylvi.

Soon Aemond was as bare as you, his back to Sylvi as his hand tilted you up to look at him by the chin.

“You know how I want you, wife…” Aemond growled low in your ear, pressing a heated kiss to the skin beneath it.

You knew immediately what he wanted. To show you off, to let Sylvi see for certain who held Aemond’s desire, love and everything else. You crawled on to the bed, kneeling to face him with a small smile on your face.

“Then come, lay down, husband,” You even beckoned him forward with your finger.

Aemond sauntered forward, sliding onto the bed beside you and lying so his head rested at the foot of the bed. You were quick to straddle his thighs, your hands rested on the taut muscle of his stomach. It had become Aemond’s favourite position to have you in, his way of letting you know just how much he was choosing you. Surrendering to you. Proving you were worth more to him than anyone, especially a whore.

You leaned down, his hands finding your waist and squeezing.

“Shall I put on a show, or do you simply wish to be well pleased?” you whispered, your voice low enough for only Aemond to hear.

You could already feel him hardening under you simply from your proximity. His hips canting up on instinct. But the wicked look in his eye told you exactly what he wanted. You let yourself slide down his body, lips trailing down his bare skin until you reached his hips. Only then did you let your teeth graze his skin, nibbling at his hips bones until his back arched just a little.

Your eyes flicked to Sylvi; your lips pressed to Aemond’s stomach with a smirk. She looked uncomfortable, yet unable to tear her eyes away. There was a difference, you were sure, to seeing her girls work in her brothel. This was more intimate, yes, but in no way that benefitted her.

You held her gaze as you continued your path down Aemond’s body, slowly but surely making your way to his leaking cock. His hips already rising to meet your waiting mouth. The groan that left him when you finally took him in was sinful and you relished every moment. Taking each inch of him, as much as you could while his hand tangled in your hair. With hollow cheeks, you let him slide in and out of your mouth. His skin slick with your spit and his hand tight in your hair.

You alternated your ministrations between his cock and the heavy sack of his stones, bringing him closer and closer to release until he pulled you away with a heavy groan. It was rare he spilled himself in your mouth, preferring the warm depths of your cunt more often.

There was no hesitation when you moved high enough to sink down, letting yourself moan in satisfaction as you felt him sink to the hilt.

“Always so warm and tight for me, sweet wife…” Aemond groaned out, his hands back to your waist as he urged you to move.

Your rhythm was slow and steady, rolling your hips as your pearl rubbed perfectly against the coarse silver hairs at his base. His hands urged you to move faster, your own rested on his chest to steady yourself.

Aemond groaned loud as he felt you clench around him, your release already so close. He sat up, latching his lips to one of your breasts, suckling as you rocked your hips faster and faster. Your hand in his hair holding him to your chest as your head fell back in pleasure.

His name was the only word on your lips as you peaked, losing all rhythm as Aemond tipped you back to find his own release. With you splayed blissed out against his sheets, his hips slammed into your heat, his face buried between your breasts as he panted your name. Soon you felt the hot ropes of his spend coat your walls, his grunts muffled against your sweat-soaked skin.

“No one feels like you, made for me…fucking made for me…” he growled as hips slowed to a stop.

It was easy to forget that Sylvi was even there, her eyes glued to the sight before her as if she feared the consequences of looking away. But when Aemond rolled off you and his seed dripped out onto the sheets below, you could only feel pride. He panted next to you, while you raised yourself to your elbows, looking at Sylvi with a smirk.

“Do you still believe yourself better than me now?”

The sound of Sylvi begging for mercy could be heard as she was escorted from Aemond’s rooms. You knew Aemond would not take her lies lightly, especially those directed at him. Anyone who knew him would know he would show no mercy, that he would use her as an example to anyone else who believed they could do the same. Aemond had followed close behind, having dressed himself quickly to ensure Sylvi was taken straight to a cell below.

You, however, had a bath drawn and sank into the hot waters. You understood now why people would seek revenge. The satisfaction that settled in your stomach made you feel warm and relaxed.

And to know you had asserted your dominance as a wife? That was the most satisfying of all.

Aemond Taglist:

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

@tumblin-theworldaway @legitalicat

@thenameswinter99 @aemondsbabe @sylasthegrim @arcielee

@hoosbandewan @kaelatargaryen

If you wanted to be added/removed, please let me know!

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

To Love You

Pairing | wanted!Jimin x princess!Reader

Word Count | 16,1k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, Jimin is a wanted outlaw, mention of dead parents and conspiracy, the new king is a slimy being, mention of hatred, painful feelings and abandonment, many tears, Jimin is allergic to romantic feelings 💀, murders (sword, poison, torture…), attempted rape, lots of kissing and touching, breast worship, love marks, talks about having a baby, impregnation kink, sex in the woods, virginity loss, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, licking pussy, forcing orgasm, mild fantasy!AU toward the end, this is not for minors.

⤷ Summary | You have been separated from your beloved and your kingdom is under the rule of a heartless man, but all is not lost.

➢ Author's Note | I wrote this story because after Dark Moon I found it hard to part with Jimin, and at the same time I wanted to bring some sweetness to heal my heart a little, I hope you enjoy this story ❤️

ps: all images used for the banner belong exclusively to me!

Permanent Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002, @takemeaway5402 @angelicsmilesworld @pantara @ke1k029 @btssimpjaneth

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"The multi-murderer Park Jimin here, the rebel leader who has been sowing terror in our lands for years, stealing from our families and killing our children, is sentenced to capital punishment, tomorrow at dawn the gallows will await his head."

A buzz rises in the room, all the attention of those present is focused on the commander of His Majesty's Royal Guards, the man is reading an official communiqué, with every word your heart receives a painful, deafening stinging.

Your eyes are steady on the blond-haired boy, kneeling in the middle of the hall, his mischievous gaze on the king, your uncle.

"The condemned man will be escorted immediately to his cell, where he will remain until the following morning, in the hope that he will repent of his deplorable deeds and ask God for forgiveness."

The boy’s grin deepens, in his ice-colored eyes that contributed to his fame, shines an amused spark, you know what it means… it’s that attitude of his that made you fall in love with him, your Jimin.

"Deplorable is forgetting the poor people you have killed for your own interests, mine was only justice, my lords...there should be someone else in my place, you all know that," the barb aimed directly at the king makes everyone present hold their breath. including you.

To address a tyrant ruler like your uncle in that way is simply insane, by your side you see the man in question clenching his fists and narrowing his gaze, but he dare not go on a rampage, not in front of his subjects, at least.

"Take him to his cell, that's where such a beast deserves to be," the king hisses, and when the guards badly pull Jimin to his feet, he finally looks at you-it's only an instant, but it's enough for you to notice his expression change from mischievous to wistful.

You barely hold back the tears as they take him away, unable to say or do anything, you promised him, you promised him you would do nothing foolish or dangerous, but your heart clenched in a painful grip calls out to him and longs to feel his embrace again, but yours is a secret that must be kept silent and hidden.

You feel a hand wrap itself around your shoulders and you shudder, watching your uncle's dark eyes stare at you suspiciously, the crown jewels shining wickedly on his head, as if mocking you, a princess forgotten by her people.

"Is there something you would like to say, my niece?" his words creep disgustingly down your spine, you want to spit in his face, but you hold back.

You clutch your robes in your hands, imprinting your best smile on your lips.

"No, Your Highness, I am calmer now, finally that outlaw has been caught" uttering those words kills you inside, it is before you the real outlaw, the one who plotted against your father to usurp his throne, you are alive only because you are a sweet and important pawn in your uncle's game, if you want to conquer a new country without shedding blood, you need a precious bargaining chip, no?

And in your veins runs the pure blood of a princess, an opportunity too tempting for your uncle who is already itching to give you away in marriage to who knows what spoiled, deadbeat prince.

You sense a gentler hand pulling you away, it is your wet nurse, sweet old Harun, she curtseys to your uncle and when he turns his attention to the other nobles in the room, the woman finally speaks, "Come, my lady, you must rest now" you let yourself be dragged away from her like a shattered rag doll, once this woman could patch you up, now you doubt that playing another of her games to cheer you up will have the desired effect, the love of your life will be executed tomorrow.

"It's over, Harun," you say with a sob stuck in your throat, "It's really over..." Harun stares at you with tears in her eyes.

After all, she witnessed your love; before he was an outlaw, Jimin was the son of a knight of the king, one of your father's best friends, you grew up together, you watched him practicing with his sword in the imperial gardens, hidden among the hedges as a princess should not have done, he loved practicing with you during dance lessons, you were very close and Harun had never dared to push you away, aware of the importance of a young love like yours.

After your uncle killed the king, Jimin's father rebelled by not accepting the new ruler and found death awaiting him, his family was stripped of its noble title and robbed of all wealth, throwing Jimin into a spiral of hatred and revenge.

He found ways to stir up trouble for the new king and his court by looting their homes or killing important members of their families, you on your side knew he was alive because of the whispers coming from the servants, with regret you realize that you saw his handsome face again as he was kneeling at the new king's feet and it will probably be the last time as well.

Harun gives you time to enter your bedroom, "My lady, Jimin never blamed you for what happened to him."

You smile softly, "I know, he... he is good, Harun, Jimin is good."

The elderly woman nods understandingly, it is when you sit on the bed that you notice something. Before you leave, Harun deliberately lets something slip among your things; it's a key.

"I hope you can both be happy, princess," she says before closing the door behind her.

With slow, tentative steps you reach for the key, you look around fearfully, almost expecting your uncle to pop out from somewhere, ready to accuse you of treachery, but when you grab the key to the castle dungeons nothing of what you imagined happens, you look out your window, the moon in the sky is high and motherly, almost inviting you to follow your heart, and with a salty smile you clutch the key to your chest.

Just for the thoughts invading your mind you deserve condemnation, but what do you have to lose now? If the love of your life dies tomorrow at dawn, then you will stand by his side, not among cruel people looking down on him.

Take a last look at your room, you spent a wonderful childhood within those walls; on the bed wrapped in tulle and silk you embroidered with your mother, on the carpet with your family crest you played while Harun braided your hair, good-naturedly reprimanding you if you spoke a little too loudly and smiling sweetly you remember at the window a young and cunning Jimin climbing a tree to join you in your rooms, that's how your first and only kiss happened, it was a light and chaste touch, but it was enough to leave you with your heart wrapped in joy.

Then it was all over, no more games, laughter or shy hugs at every corner of the castle. The new king ruined everything.

The night welcomes you and slips with you as you move like a shadow within the castle walls, after years of dancing your step is so light that the heels of your shoes do not make the slightest noise, you clutch the light shawl you have carried with you over your shoulders, shivering at the draught that penetrates through the draughts of the dungeons, you have found no guards as you pass, they are all focused on protecting the king and his apartments, the fear of possible revenge from Jimin's men is too vivid for them.

You descend the stone steps covering your nose with your shawl, the smell of mold is strong and makes your eyes water, drops of water whose origin is unknown to you fall from the ceiling, it is so dark that you are forced to take a torch from the wall and use it to light your way, the flame dances sinuously with your every movement and you finally access the last part of the long and winding corridor. A sickening smell of urine overtakes you as you approach the filthy cells, Jimin is locked up in such a place, another wicked way of trying to humiliate him.

There are five cells in all, in front of them you notice a wooden table with two chairs, that's where you immediately go, take the bottle of wine and swallow, you have to.

It's something you've always thought of reserving for your uncle someday, but Jimin's life is more important, so you firmly detach the thin chain you've been wearing around your neck since your father's death from your neck, you look one last time at the silver pendant with your family crest, then you open it with a small click and its contents are revealed, you throw a few pieces of the wolfsbane root into the wine, hoping that the guards will drink it before they realize what had been done, and with a shuddering breath you hide the necklace in the pockets of your dress.

Then, as if you hadn't just poisoned the bottle, you slowly make your way to the dirty rooms enclosed by old iron bars, you illuminate the cramped space of each cell by the torchlight flame, you notice beds of dirty, old straw and dark stains on the wall, you don't even want to imagine what it could be.

You notice a soft humming, it is gentle and sweet, you swallow recognizing the melody, he is there.

You approach the last cell with your heart in your throat, you haven't seen him in years, you don't know exactly how he will react to your presence, you repeat Harun's words in your head as you use the key she gave you to open the cell, the noise is creepy as you open the rusted iron door, the shadows inside are even more so.

You take a step in there, your feet meet more straw, it is so dark that you can only rely on the torch you clutch in your hand and the moonlight filtering through a tiny barred window, you try to look around but suddenly the flame goes out, the loss of light provokes in you the instinct to scream, but one hand rushes to close your mouth while another grabs you by the side, holding you to a warm body you didn't think you could touch again.

You shudder when the tip of his nose lightly brushes your neck, and you are inflamed to realize that he is inhaling your fragrance. You feel him smile against your skin before leaving a kiss on it that makes you lose several beats and your hair stand up pleasantly.

"What's a princess like you doing in a place like this... with someone like me?" he whispers in your ear as the tempting devil would, you'd be lying if you said he had no effect on you, your mind and body are hopelessly drawn to him.

His hand releases your mouth and reaches down to your neck, tightening it in a deliberately weak grip, you lick your lips before responding.

"I'm here to set you free, Jimin," you say softly, this makes him snort in amusement.

"Set me free? Oh, Y/N... I'm not afraid to die" you tremble when he says your name and turn in his arms, you try to look into his eyes but the only thing you catch is the dangerous glint in them.

"I do, I am afraid! I don't want you to die, Jimin..." you whisper in a broken voice and finally allow yourself to embrace him, rest your head on his warm chest and although he doesn't reciprocate, he does nothing to stop you.

It's a strange feeling you feel, he left you he was a skinny little boy full of rage, now he is a man facing death head on, but you are not ready to let him go one more time.

"And I don't want you to be here when the guards come back, this is high treason to the crown, Y/N," he growls looking at the open cell door and clutching your shoulders, he wants you to leave, you know.

"Do you think I care? No, Jimin... I stopped being a princess when my father and mother died, when you were forced to leave and left me alone" you say the last word bitterly, "If I die saving you, I will accept my fate."

He slowly pushes you back, each step brings you closer to the light filtering through the small window, and when you end up with your back to the wall, you can finally see clearly the face of the man he has become and your breath catches, his peculiar eyes hold a torment that does not shine through in his brazen voice, you raise a hand to his face and shyly brush the line of his jaw, his golden locks shine under the moonlight glow, it is shocking.

"You don't even know what you're saying, you're a silly princess who's read too many books and now thinks she can save an outlaw" he laughs softly shaking his head, "Go back to your room, Y/N and forget me" when he turns away from you and you lose the little hold you have on him, the world comes crashing down on you.

Forget him? He has no idea how many years you spent waiting for him, hoping he would take you away from your uncle's clutches, he never came to get you and yet you never stopped hoping, you shake your head looking at him sorrowfully. It is easy for him to say such a thing, after all, he has already left you in his past, a past he has turned his back on.

"You're probably right, I'm a silly princess who has read too many books and now wants to save an outlaw, but I won't forget you," you hiss feeling a sudden surge of anger, because if you gave in to the sadness that now clutches your heart you would find yourself crying on your knees and he doesn't deserve that, "It may have been very easy for you to make me disappear from your mind and heart, but don't think we're the same in this."

He does not answer you, you know he is gritting his teeth by the rhythmic click of his jaw, you thought you had found him and instead you are looking at a stranger.

"You've grown ... and you've changed," you whisper before turning toward the exit with a chill in your body, "The cell is open and the guards are focused on protecting the king, you pretty much have the coast clear."

Before you can leave, his voice stops you.

"What will happen to you? Every action has a repercussion, princess."

You smile without amusement; it's ridiculous how he avoids facing your feelings by pretending they don't exist.

"Don't waste your time on me and go, it's not even certain that they will find out," you sigh with one last look at the man who stole your heart and soul before freezing you, he now has his hands clasped around the bars of the window, as if he refuses to look at you. It is stupid what you are about to do, but you need one last test.

You let your shawl slide to the ground; if it is still in the straw tomorrow, you will be condemned in Jimin's place; if, on the other hand, the guards do not find it, it means the boy has taken it with him. You know you are being selfish, but you wish a part of you would stay with him, even though he would probably like not to think of you again.

"Jimin!" one of his friends notices him, and relief is immediate in the group.

They welcome him with open arms as he collapses to the ground, tired but happy to still have his head attached to his neck.

"We were already prepared to intervene during the public trial, but this changes everything! How did you escape?" Hoseok asks him with wide eyes, Jimin brings a hand to his damp and dirty hair, seriously in need of a bath after spending a night running through dirty streets and dirt.

"I was helped ... by a friend, let's say," he replies through clenched teeth, gratefully taking the water bottle Yoongi is handing him.

"A friend? Some servant girl you've had fun with in the past?" asks Taehyung smoothly, receiving a blow on the head from Namjoon.

It is Seokjin who notices the shawl that Jimin has tied around his waist, masterfully takes it before the boy can even notice and ignores the latter's protests.

"I'd say a princess," he says with a smile, spreading the fabric and displaying the royal family crest under the sunlight, "I knew it, she-"

"Stop. I know what you are going to say and I urge you to go no further," Jimin growls taking back your shawl, "She belongs in that castle."

"Kidnapping a princess is easy, so what's your problem?" in a not at all gentle way, Jungkook voices the question that has always crossed everyone's mind.

"Her place is not in that castle, everyone in the kingdom knows that ever since Cobra killed his brother and sister-in-law, he wants to use his niece as a bargaining chip with all countries provided with an heir" Namjoon looks at him sternly, but Jimin sighs.

"She is a princess, that is her duty."

He clutches your shawl tightly before getting up from the ground and heading to his tent, your place is not by his side, you are safer in that castle, whoever went against that foolish new king met his death, he will never forget the life in his father's eyes that faded away, nor the flames that burned his house and the king's guards that captured his mother and brothers, you will not end up the same way because of his selfishness, if leaving you by your uncle's side will preserve your life, then he will give up on you.

He clutches tightly at the fabric that still carries your sweet scent of vanilla and cookies, it was devastating to have had you next to him again without being able to hold you as he would have liked, for a moment the memories of childhood lulled him tenderly, but you are two different people now, he is different and must let you go, it is for your own good he thinks as he ties your shawl around his duffle bag, trying not to think back to the pain in your voice as you left the cell.

Someday, when you have a family of your own, you will understand the reason behind his every action.

The walls tremble at the king's shouts, he is furious.

Everyone in the hall looks at each other nervously, you keep your vacant and tired gaze, it has been three days since Park Jimin's escape and your uncle shows no sign of ending his fury, he has executed five guards and two nobles of his court suspected of helping Jimin with the escape. The reason is the poison found in the wine that killed the sentries who were on guard that night; it is a plant found only in the royal gardens and only the king and the nobles of his court have access to it.

"Who dared to betray the king?" is the question circulating among those in the hall as you crinkle the skirt of your gown with nervous fingers, not regretting helping Jimin, but breathing the heavy air of these days is not easy.

"Who do you think could have done it, my niece?" when your uncle whispers the question in your ear you stiffen.

"I don't have enough evidence to accuse anyone, Your Majesty, the only thing I can say is that it must have been a fool with no conscience," you reply in as firm a tone as possible, your uncle scrutinizing you from head to toe before nodding.

"Yeah, a fool..." he hisses shifting his gaze to his nobles, out of the corner of your eye you notice Harun looking at you from the front door with sadness.

She expected Jimin to take you away with him, and truthfully you had hoped for that at first too, but you can't force a person to love you, it's a good thing things turned out this way, you can finally stop chasing a ghost and wishing for something you will never have.

When that day's reunion ends, you can finally be free to wander around the castle, what you don't expect is to find the king in your safe place, your mother's private little garden.

"Sire..." you whisper strangely, the king never dared to enter there, everything about those lush plants and flowers carries the memory of your mother, a beautiful and sensitive woman, but also very strong. She did not shy away from her brother-in-law's sword when he pointed it at her chest.

"Y/N, you are doing a very good job here," he nods in the direction of the white lilies in the height of their bloom, you do nothing to approach the man, you have always discreetly driven away his presence, but it is one thing to leave his halls, another to leave a place you consider your own, this may make him too suspicious.

He, however, seems not to notice your lack of response, too busy studying the many plants in the small garden.

"Go ahead and sit down and read one of your books, nephew...I'm just here to find some peace...I confess, Park Jimin's escape troubles me," he casts you a little glance and you clear your throat.

"You are the king, he cannot harm you in here, Sire."

The man nods weakly, but still looks tense.

"Oh, I know I am the king, my dear niece, but the idea that a traitor could live within the walls of my castle does not let me sleep at night."

You grit your teeth.

His castle? The castle he forcibly wrested from you and your family?

This is another humiliation to which you cannot respond as you actually want to, you swallow the knot in your throat.

"Precisely why I'm so disappointed... in you" you squint, possible...  "Y/N, I kept you alive when I took the throne years ago, you were such a pretty and malleable child, but maybe not enough" he continues before shaking off the dark cloak and pulling out something that locks your breath in your lungs.

In his fist he clutches your necklace, the one that contained the poison and that you thought you had hidden in the sewn folds of your dress, you don't know what to say, so you try to pretend.

"Oh! You found it, I've been looking for it for days," you exclaim in the most surprised tone you can imitate, but the man doesn't seem to be playing along with you.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N, this necklace was found inside the cell where Park Jimin was locked up, I had heard rumors about your childish feelings for that outlaw, but to go that far? To go so far as to betray me? I spared your life, I never denied you and your title of princess! I raised you as if you were my own daughter!" he shouts, violently pulling off a wolfsbane root hidden among the lilies.

Something snaps inside you at his insinuations, an anger you've been hatching for years that has never found an outlet.

"Raised as a daughter? You killed my father and mother for a crown! You put power and wealth first, you deprived me of a family, you did the same to Jimin and claim to pass as a victim now! You are a vile monster!"

Your uncle is quick to draw the same sword with which he had remorselessly severed your father's head, he points it at your throat and it is so close that you feel the blade press against your skin enough to scratch it, you inhale deeply trying to block the fear that makes your heart gallop against your rib cage.

"I am the king, I don't allow a foolish girl to judge my actions, I realize I was wrong to spare you that night...but what should I do with you now? Should I kill you now or..." a mad light flashes in his eyes, "Of course... a condemned will be there, you will take the place of your beloved Jimin," he hisses in your face, a slow smile makes room on your cheeks contrary to what the man expected.

He expected you to burst into tears and fall to your knees begging him to spare you, but you will not, you will honor your mother's memory.

"You're just a coward," you whisper amused, at which the man's face turns red with fury.

"Guards! Guards!" he shouts at that point, six men enter by breaking through the glass door from which you enter to reach your mother's garden, shards of glass surround you along with the soldiers, you have no escape and so you merely chill the king with your gaze, "Lock her up in the highest and most isolated tower of the castle, I sentence the princess to death for helping the dangerous fugitive Park Jimin escape from my prisons!"

"Your day will come, too, Uncle," you hiss furiously, "And when you find him before your eyes, you will fall to your knees begging him to spare your life, but he will not be so merciful," you announce proudly, not needing to utter Jimin's name to alert your uncle, the way he suddenly whitens is already an answer for you, you keep smiling as an austere-looking man tugs you badly, forgetting that he has a princess on his hands, or maybe they don't care, it's the king who matters to them.

As you are thrown to the floor inside what will be your final chamber, darkness engulfs you once the door is closed.

You cough hard involuntarily inhaling the air thick with dust and dirt, your eyes burn and you do not know whether from tears or from the irritants in the room, the only thing you are sure of is that tomorrow your entire kingdom will know of your death sentence.

They will probably learn of that news with indifference, wondering why the king did not kill you earlier, along with the rest of your family.

You often ask yourself that too, if he had killed you then, you would have died basking in the thought that Jimin loved you and would remember you forever.

"Let's move, we need to refuel in town before we leave," says Seokjin starting to saddle his horse, Namjoon on the other hand is busy cataloging all their stuff to avoid losing anything after yet another move.

"Taehyung's not back yet?" complains Hoseok snortingly, picking up the "stupid guy's" bag, Jungkook shrugs in response.

They sent Taehyung to check the situation in town, moving in a group would have been dangerous; it's always better to check one at a time that the coast is clear.

"Strange, he should be here already," Jimin whispers as he squints, their momentary safe place in the heart of the forest is now almost completely clear, only Taehyung is missing.

"Maybe he's found something interesting," murmurs Yoongi crossing his arms and staring at an unspecified point toward the horizon, everyone staring at him in confusion before hearing Taehyung's voice.

"Jimin!" exclaimed Taehyung coming galloping in a breathless gallop, Hoseok cursing.

"I hope no one saw you running and screaming like that, you asshole," he growls, but Taehyung overtakes him with wide eyes and a paper clutched in his hand.

"Jimin, it's about the princess!" silence instantly replaces the protests of the others, Jimin stiffens as he stares guardedly at the paper Taehyung is clutching so desperately, "That fool of a king-" is interrupted by his friend who snatches the flyer from his hands to read it himself.

A boulder falls into his stomach and the ground is as if shaking beneath his feet, the king has sentenced you to death, you will end up hanging with a noose around your neck for helping him escape, he clutches the piece of paper tightly, shaking with fury.

You should not have helped him, you should not have risked your life for someone like him, when he thinks of how he treated you before you left he feels only immense shame.

"We should have kidnapped her when I proposed it," Jungkook sighs before saddling his horse as well.

"Saving her is the more appropriate term," Yoongi corrects him, adjusting his leather vest before turning to Jimin, "What do you want to do now?"

Jimin lets out a laugh full of malice, his adamantine eyes shining as he observes the king's seal in the communiqué.

"Are you still convinced that leaving her in that castle is the only way to keep her safe?" asks Namjoon sarcastically, Jimin shakes his head.

"In light of the new events, I would say no," he sighs reluctantly, handing the communiqué to Hoseok.

"The execution is in two days, we have to find a way to get into the castle and find her."

"He probably locked her up in the most isolated tower, he did the same with her mother before he killed her, it's as if he enjoys seeing them wallowing in fear," the blond man forcefully clutches a twig picked from the ground before snapping it in two, wishing he had the king's neck in his hands.

"Now with all those guards circling her it will be harder to kidnap a princess, but nothing is impossible for us," sneers Jungkook, but Jimin doesn't seem thrilled at the idea of having you back by his side, filling him with unease and remorse, reminding him of all the years he was absent and didn't really care how you might feel sitting side by side with the monster who killed your parents.

Someone squeezes his shoulder in comfort, it is Jin who is looking at him with a smile, "Hey, if you explain everything to her she will understand, from what you told me, she seems like a smart and intelligent girl."

Jimin grins slightly and nods.

"She is."

You look out the small tower window with tears in your eyes, you don't know how many hours you have been crying now, what your uncle did was deplorable and cruel.

You were allowed to sleep with your sweet old Harun beside you, you had to imagine that behind that concession was the cruel promise of a snake.

‘With the princess dead, there is no need for a wet nurse anymore’ is what the king said before ordering the guards to carry Harun away to the outside, exactly in the direction of your window, before they began to slaughter her amidst the screams of both of you, you shook the bars at the window of the hope of breaking them and reaching her, but it had all been in vain, Harun died almost immediately, she preferred not to withstand the blows to spare you the suffering of watching her fight like an animal for who knows how long.

Your throat burns as you sob, her body is still there, no one has gone to cover her, they are simply waiting for the ravens to arrive.

You slowly fall to your knees letting go of your grip on the bars, your hands are encrusted with blood and your nails are broken, you clutch your hands to your chest remembering your wet nurse who apologized to you the night before for encouraging you to free Jimin, repeating numerous times that she firmly believed you would run away together.

You feel guilty, perhaps if you had not requested Harun's presence, she would not have come into the king's sights, you find yourself wishing the hours would pass quickly, you do not want to be alone with your thoughts, they are too scary, death in comparison seems like a sweet promise.

Suddenly you hear the creak of the old door opening, for a moment - your despite yourself - you brighten up, believing you'll find Jimin ready to help you, but the dream soon shatters once again, it's not Jimin, it's one of the guards, and then you frown, what is he doing here? The king has expressly ordered that no one should speak to you again.

"What do you want, sir?" you ask with a strange feeling in your stomach, the guard sneers.

"A change of room, the king has ordered it," you stare at the open door, then back at the guard, it's a boy who looks familiar to you, he has black hair and droopy eyes.

You don't ask any further questions, you get up from the floor and shaking off the dust you let him grab you by the arm, though you grit your teeth in anger you dare not say anything, it's still better than having chains on your wrists and ankles.

He takes you outside urgently, you don't see the other guards and it makes you suspicious, you remember there were at least three outside the door, what is going on?

It is when you get to the fourth flight of stairs that you feel a violent grip on your shoulder before you are forced into a small, dark room, perhaps a closet used by the servants to store items, you scream with all your might, but the man's slimy mouth immediately covers yours, it is disgusting as you try to force his tongue between your lips and with a firm conk in your throat you bite it off with all your might.

This makes him flinch away with a yelp, it's dark and you can't see anything, you can only imagine him probing his tongue with his fingers to make sure it's still attached, you spit out his blood shuddering.

"You know..." he begins panting, "I've never been with a princess, I must say you are much better than servants," he laughs like a maniac returning again to his intent, trying to lift your dress skirts, but every time he tries to sneak his hand in, he always finds a kick to hit it badly.

With your heart engaged in a mad rush, you try to defend yourself as best you can, you've never been in a situation like this, but you won't let this happen, ever.

You desperately grope for something behind you, his wine-smelling breath twisting your guts and when he comes to lick your neck you manage to hold on to something cold and spiky, you don't even need to ask for forgiveness for what you are about to do, you don't even feel a hint of guilt as you start hitting him viciously wherever you can, with a snarl he tries to block your hands but you manage to knock him unconscious with one last blow.

You open the door to the small room to escape and the man's body collapses to the floor, you finally recognize him, he is the son of the guards' captain, and a rush of satisfaction fills your chest as you think back to what they did to Harun, then you suddenly realize you are free.

You don't know exactly where you're going to go, but you have a chance to escape and you're not going to miss a golden opportunity like that.

To enter the castle they used an old and dense series of underground tunnels leading to every corner of the palace, to be on the safe side Jimin chose the one that would lead them to the kitchens populated only by servants at certain times.

"Well, we're in," Hoseok snorts, shaking cobwebs from his clothes in disgust, "Now what?"

"We should split up and check every single tower, just in case," proposes Seokjin nabbing an apple from the basket in the large kitchen, Jimin looks around wistfully, brushing against the massive old wooden table he remembers all the afternoons spent with you stealing cookies with the complicity of Harun and the cook, with the old housekeeper always at your heels repeating to you to go back to the lessons with the riding teacher.

"Be careful, the castle is swarming with soldiers," the blond warns them before going on his way, refusing to take anyone else with him.

He moves through the shadows of the palace, making sure to avoid every corner illuminated by the light of the flashlights hanging on the walls of almost every corridor, his stride is light despite the leather boots he is wearing, he is getting closer and closer to the throne room and he shouldn't, he is there to save you, but... if he kills the king you will ascend to the throne.

He tries to calm his breathing, the idea of coming face to face again with the man responsible for his downfall is too much for him, it would be delightful to sever the head from his neck and proclaim a new ruler, one man's death would be enough to end both of their nightmares.

Before he can even really realize it, he has reached the vicinity of the throne room, hidden behind a secluded corner he watches the guards lurking at each corner of the door.

Opening his palm he slowly slides a dagger down his arm to his wrist, grasps the handle foretasting the moment when he will plunge the blade into the living flesh of the two soldiers in the king's service, one of them yawns sonorously and keeps his eyes almost completely closed, receiving a shove from the other.

"Hey, I'm going for a check-up, try not to fall asleep as usual, you boar," he growls before putting his hand on the sword hilt and walking away looking around.

Jimin sneers as he licks his lower lip, drops his cloak hood and calmly approaches the displeased man.

"Why do I always have to stay on guard?" he hears him mutter, "That prick really turns my-" the words stop in the middle of his throat while Jimin is cutting it, it is such a smooth movement his that it now seems remarkably natural.

The man doesn't resist, he moans in a hushed voice as he collapses to the ground accompanied by the blond man who doesn't mind the blood smeared on his cloak, the stench of alcohol the soldier exudes, he can swear he was too drunk to try to react in any other way, everything seems to be going in his favor and he can't help but bask in the pleasure of what is about to take place.

When he enters the great throne room, he cannot help but think of the time when he found himself kneeling before the king in a humiliating position, but that night everything will be reversed.

The young man remembers the walls finished in gold and silver, but the frescoes proclaiming King Cobra as the victor are new, depicting hunting scenes and valiant battles to feed the man's narcissistic side, but they are all lies, Jimin knows and so does Cobra himself.

The king's back is turned and he is holding his hands behind his back, he is carefully watching something from the high windows of the throne room, perhaps he does not sense the presence creeping behind him or simply ignores it, the fact is that when Jimin points his sword at his back, the man does not move an inch, he remains ice cold.

"I knew you would come back for her, Jimin," there is an amused note in his voice, Jimin thins his gaze.

"For her? I came back to kill you," the boy growls, pressing the gleaming blade harder.

"Um..." the man brings a hand to his face to smooth his long beard, "So you don't care about Y/N or what might happen to her at this very moment."

A trace of insecurity quickly passes through Jimin's icy eyes, he grits his teeth before uttering the words he would not want left his lips, "Exactly, I'm just here to settle a score."

"Oh, well ... then, before you settle this unfinished score, why don't you enjoy the show with me?" the sardonic question awakens Jimin's sixth sense, as he lifts his gaze over the king's shoulder and toward the stained glass windows, just outside the garden that would later lead inside the bramble forest.

Immediately he feels the blood freeze in his veins, he rolls his eyes and tries to keep his calm demeanor, but inside he is dying.

You are there.

You're running toward the forest with a soldier behind you gaining more and more ground, you're too tired and petite to outrun him, you won't make it.

"So what? Will you take my life and satisfy your revenge or will you run to save the princess in danger?" chuckles Cobra, Jimin hisses strengthening his grip and tearing at the king's gaudy robes with the tip of his blade, he knows what he has to do, the answer is so obvious, but letting go of such a being is unthinkable for him, unbearable.

With a snarl he pushes the king away, who rolls badly to the ground, and before he can even comprehend what has just happened, Jimin puts his sword to his throat, the blade shining under the dim light of the candles and longing for the young man to go forward, to pierce the flesh of that worm and sever his head from the rest of his body, but all that does not happen.

Jimin's eyes are now as dark as darkness, he uncovers his teeth like a snarling wolf, "I will return, Your Majesty... and when you see me again, you will pray for God to save you, for I will have no mercy on your dark soul," he hisses, hurling a slash toward the king, then heading quickly and in a blind fury toward the exit of the hall.

Cobra with wide eyes grazes his own face, slowly a wound opens under his left eye and blood stains his hands.

You hiss in pain with every thorn that sticks in your legs, your dress is torn in several places and you try to catch your breath as you pray that the soldier will not find you.

You have ended up in the bramble forest so feared in your kingdom and every movement of the wild plants that inhabit it makes you tremble with terror, everything is dark and cold, you can only hear the cry of the owls that watch your silent struggle mocking you.

You manage to crawl painfully behind a large and imposing tree, lift your skirt and observe the pitiful condition of your legs, bite your lower lip with tears in your eyes, your skin is full of scratches and blood, but you can still run.

You try to pick yourself up, but noises of broken branches block your every movement, you stand with bated breath as someone wanders through the trees.

"Come here, little flower... let's go back to your room," you hear him humming with amusement, "I don't know how you got out, but you won't be punished, you're still a princess after all."

You tremble with cold and fear, it is obvious that the man is not telling the truth, you have seen your uncle's men act before and you know they know no kindness or mercy.

"Our sweet..." you frown as you follow the man's footsteps with your ears, you can't make out which direction he is coming from, "Princess..." you see something moving quickly out of the corner of your eye to your right, you spontaneously throw yourself to the left to avoid it, believing it to be the guard, but to your horror you realize it is a small fox, "... Y/N! " you scream with all your might when hands yank you away, you manage to free yourself only because the man's grip is weak, at which point you run away again.

"Run, princess, run! I'll find you again anyway!" he laughs excitedly at the idea of hunting after months locked in the castle protecting the king's life.

You are tired, your eyesight is getting more and more fatigued, you just want everything to be over as soon as possible. You don't even know where you might go in case you escape the man, you will always be hunted down by the king and his array of soldiers, the idea of giving up everything and accepting the end you will make crosses your mind, even if it means saying goodbye to Jimin for good.

Bramble bushes once again block your way, they stick to your skin and dress, they seem to be on the side of your assailant, you can no longer escape, it's over.

"Gotcha, princess" you feel his heavy breath on your neck, his arms grip you tightly before he lifts you up by weight and throws you into the shaggy, dry grass, "Look at you... actually you don't look like a princess anymore, you look like a dirty peasant girl" he chuckles, kneeling down in front of you, he touches your hair and you glower at him.

"Don't touch me, you dirty mangy dog" you growl, slapping his hand, the man's expression changes, it is no longer cheerful, now he looks resentful.

"You have such peasant language, your mother didn't live long enough to teach you manners, but I'll teach you a good lesson," he says before lifting a hand, ready to slap you in the face.

As your wide eyes stare at the man's heavy hand, your ears feel something move across the grass and stomp on it, then the sound of a slash lashing the air and suddenly you are free, the man falls to the side holding his neck but desperately reaching for the dagger hidden in his leather belt amid curses and expletives.

"Jimin..." you whisper as you see a golden flash in the darkness of the forest, the shadow falls hard on your assailant and you find yourself forcefully closing your eyes to avoid looking at that gruesome spectacle, you listen in disgust to the intense barks of the dying man.

Then everything falls silent.

You feel Jimin's presence approaching your huddled figure on the ground and you don't know how to act.

He has certainly saved your life, but he has just killed a man and you are the granddaughter of the king who took everything away from him; he is no longer the Jimin of when you were an innocent child.

"Are you all right?" he kneels at your side with a certain formality and coldness in his tone of voice, as if trying to keep his distance, hurting you.

You slowly rise up avoiding looking him in the eye, "I'm alive, so yeah... I'm fine," you whisper dimly, hissing when you try to stand up and your legs resume burning painfully, you clench your flayed fingers into small fists and when he notices them he cannot forbid himself a barely concealed dry breath.

"One moment, let me see," he offers, already grabbing a flap of your torn dress, instantly freezing when he meets your eyes wide with embarrassment.

What he was about to do is disgraceful as well as incredibly intimate.

"It's nothing, I can still walk... can you help me reach the village? I might find someone willing to let me board by ship," you ask gritting your teeth, the forest finally gains some light and you can make out the young man's surprised expression.

Your gaze falls on his black robes, although it is not very clear you understand that the darker stains correspond to the blood of the man he has just killed and to whom you dare not even cast a glance, you swallow wondering why apart from your disgust at the blood, it does not bother you at all.

"I am here to save you, princess," he murmurs decisively, "Going to the village is not safe, you can only trust me," at his words you tighten your lips into a tight line.

"If you really want to save me, then stop talking to me in that tone, we grew up together as friends, stop pulling away from me" you whisper sadly, the boy shows a flash of displeasure as your words sink into his heart, behind him several men on their horses begin to approach, one of whom is unridden.

"Jimin, more guards are coming!" exclaims a boy with hair as dark as a raven's feathers and tenacious eyes, and tossing him the reins of the riderless horse, the animal is magnificent, its coat as white as milk and its mane shining like the most precious gold.

Orobel.

With tears in your eyes you recognize the foal your father gave Jimin for his 12th birthday. He is much bigger and more majestic now, a force of nature in every way.

"You must come with us if you want to save your life, princess," says another, his shoulders broad and posture proud, he looks like the leader of the group, a large bow protrudes from his back.

You send down a knot in your throat when Jimin extends a hand toward you encouragingly, "We must go, don't be afraid of them, they are my trusted comrades, Y/N."

Your name uttered by his sweet lips shakes you to the core, he may not be aware of the effect he still has on you and you want to cry like a little girl when he helps you up from the muddy ground and hoist you onto Orobel, if he somehow notices your glazed eyes, he says nothing, probably blaming the wounds on your legs.

You really wish it were that way.

Jimin is chopping wood with an axe, he is shirtless and you watch from a distance, sitting on the grass and wrapped in a clean, heavy cloak, it is the only thing the boys have found suitable for you to protect you from the evening wind.

You notice a few drops of sweat sliding down his neck and then down to his muscular chest as he flexes his arms to strike yet another wooden stump, you swallow with a slight blush dusted on your cheeks, you didn't remember his physique being so grown up, it's all new to you as well as incredibly embarrassing.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi picking some herbs not far from you, it makes you feel uncomfortable to have to live with so many men; when your uncle took you into custody, he didn't allow any boys to get close to you, he wanted to keep you pure for his plans. Thinking back to the man who didn't think twice about sentencing you to death paralyzes you. You have to hold on until you find your own place to stay, you doubt that Jimin will ever want you by his side; therefore, you have to think personally about your future, even if it is painful to think about.

Being with them, you get a little insight into everyone's roles within the group.

Seokjin is certainly the leader as well as an experienced archer. You have observed him several times taking aim and hitting his intended target accurately, plus he has an aura around him that inspires confidence and trust. On the other hand, Taehyung looks a bit like the jester of the situation, but you have seen him wielding daggers to catch various animals and never wished to take their place, it is clear that behind that sunny smile he hides a soul as dark as the others.

Namjoon would rather observe and devise traps than take part in an actual confrontation, but it is clear that he would never back down in the face of a real threat, just as Yoongi, who plays the role of doctor in the group, helped you bandage your fingers and legs when you arrived at their camp and was incredibly quiet, not that you felt like talking still upset after the events of the night.

Then there are Hoseok and Jungkook, both of whom are the hunters, their job is to find and kill all possible threats in the surroundings, lest their lair be found and besieged by the king's men.

Also, you found out that Jimin is a master of swords.

He masters his steel blade so lightly and sinuously that it seems to dance when he moves and lashes the air.

You are in the midst of wolves, but it doesn't scare you too much, you know they won't hurt you, or so you assume after those five days spent in their company.

You feel a figure stop behind you, you raise your head and have to squint to avoid being blinded by the sun's rays, slowly you make out the form of Yoongi who bends respectfully at your height. His feline-cut eyes seem to invite you to listen to him.

"I can see you are tired, princess, and I know you haven't slept well since you've been here," he begins with a thoughtful look, "Taehyung has managed to find suitable clothes for you and there is a safe lake nearby, I invite you to freshen up and put on something clean before resting, you will surely feel better," he says with a small reassuring smile.

You frown, undecided about what to do, the idea of a bath tantalizes you almost overbearingly, but the embarrassment if one of them were to see you naked would be too much to bear, and Yoongi seems to understand that.

"The lake is far enough away from the camp, none of us here are planning to go to that area at the moment, it is completely safe and isolated, you need not fear anything," he hastens to specify, "I will just accompany you, I will be back here immediately."

"I... thank you, Yoongi" you smile gratefully, finally trusting the boy.

"I'll go get you those clothes, wait here for a moment," you nod, sighing slightly; you turn back to Jimin, but find to your disappointment that he has disappeared.

Yoongi leaves you by the lake, the path back to the camp is not difficult; so, you assure the man that you will have no trouble. He leaves you with a shadow of doubt etched on his face, but you pay no attention to it; you walk to the lakeshore and breathe in the air at the top of your lungs, enjoying the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that sail across it like ships.

When you finally reach the lake, you feed on the sight of the crystal-clear water, the temptation to undress is very strong, but tightening your lips into a line you look around suspiciously.

Stripping off completely would be too much, so you decide to stay in your petticoat, shivering at the breeze rattling the tree foliage, you hang your clothes from the branch of an old felled log nearby.

You turn toward the shore and treading over the small stones and grass you finally slowly begin to enter the water, sighing at the almost freezing temperature.

As the water reaches your belly you hear something emerge noisily from the lake, widening your eyes you find yourself screaming and covering your chest as best you can, wordlessly you see Jimin with his eyes closed bringing back his blond, golden-strand-like hair, the movement is magnetic, and you are practically naked. No, both of you are naked.

You flinch down with the water now up to your chin and your heart in your throat, peering warily at the boy who notices you only at that moment and stares at you wordlessly at first, you notice his jaw snap rigidly and his clear eyes darken, before turning away.

"I'm done, I'm leaving right now," he says raising his voice slightly to be heard, "I just needed to get the sweat off of me," he looks uncomfortable as he tries hard not to let his eyes slide to you.

A squeeze in your stomach is all you get from his words.

"Jimin..." you call out to him as he begins to swim toward the shore, the bitter feeling like gall at seeing him move further and further away from you once again has become unbearable, "So that's it? You don't want me?" his bare shoulders tremble slightly, and you don't know whether from the cold of the water or from your words.

You don't really expect to see him coming back toward you, but that's exactly what he does by moving at an extraordinary speed, he almost looks like a water creature, then he is in front of you in his full height, water droplets glide along his perfect skin and you swallow trying not to look at his bare chest or even lower, suddenly feeling like a little girl under the icy depths of his eyes.

"You're going to get sick, Y/N... Look, your lips are already purple," he whispers, brushing your lower lip with his thumb, stroking it gently, and you feel yourself suddenly go on fire.

"Can't you just answer me to end this suffering?" you beg him with moist eyes, Jimin sighs before shaking his head, reaching up to brush your hair.

"I am not suitable for you, Y/N," he mutters it almost angrily, wishing to put an end to this.

"Or am I not suitable for you, maybe that's what you think" you smile sadly and bitterly, "I'm sorry to still be a bother to you."

"You are not a bother" he almost growls those words and you sigh shaking your head.

"Then I will be soon, you will meet a beautiful woman, marry her and have your own family, that same woman will then wonder when I will disappear from your life forever and at that point there will be no place for me even in your memories," you say shakily, "That is, if there are still memories of me in your heart."

You follow the movement of his neck as he tilts to let his eyes peer deep into your soul, his serious, thoughtful expression leaving you interjected.

He doesn't seem to want to deny but not even admit your words; it's as if he, too, is as confused as you are.

His gaze moves further down, there where your thin robe has stuck to your body because of the water, you realize with shame that it has become transparent and revealing, but you decide not to cover yourself.

You want him to look at you, to see that you are no longer a child, that you have grown up and that your body is that of a girl in her prime.

"My real problem, Y/N ... is that I'm sure I've met that woman before, but I don't feel worthy to be around her, not when I abandoned her in a castle to pursue my revenge," he whispers, the sky-blue color of his eyes seems to become more watery, "I can't forgive myself for putting her on the back burner, that's the truth," you hear the pain in his voice, the one that was missing that night in the cell when you freed him.

The need to hug him and hold him to you suddenly becomes more suffocating, with a sob you throw yourself into his arms and this time he doesn't stay stiff as marble, his arms wrap around you like a silk blanket and you find refuge in his chest.

His skin is warm against your cheek and it's a feeling you didn't think you would experience again, the boy sinks his face into your hair and leaves a kiss on your temple, before brushing the tip of his nose against you and smiling softly.

"There will never be a woman who will make me forget you," despite his words, you feel sad, still incomplete.

You sigh against his neck and close your eyes, you have gotten used to the temperature of the water and its warmth helps to relax you.

"But there will be a woman who will take you away from me" you point out in a colorless voice, when he doesn't respond you decide to loosen your sudden embrace, "I'm tired of waiting for you, Jimin" you let go of the ripples in the water, swimming back to the shore without taking your eyes off the boy who still seems to be in doubt, then a small, amused smile stretches across your face, "I'll have to find a real man who knows what it means to love a woman," you taunt him, reaching down to a shallow spot in the lake bottom, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You begin to lower the straps of your now useless robe, abandoning all symptoms of shame, you want him to react or get angry in some way, you want a reaction from him and you get it, "Maybe Yoongi? I have to admit, he's very charming and he certainly knows what he wants, he could give me-" before you can even finish speaking, Jimin pulls you toward him grabbing you by the wrist, you only have time to make a surprised sound before his lips manage to cover yours in an impetuous, possession-filled kiss.

You hear your heart beating at a rapid pace in your ears, you did not expect your second kiss to happen this way, he seems exasperated as he presses himself against your mouth for more direct and intimate contact, you open your mouth slightly when his tongue dabs roughly on your lower lip.

It is a man who is kissing you, no longer the kid of your memories, and he seems more than willing to let you know it when one of his hands comes down to tenderly squeeze your throbbing neck, he smiles against your lips when he realizes that your heart seems to want to leave your chest and he separates himself from you with one last caress of his softest petals.

"I haven't even kissed you properly and your heart is already exploding," he chuckles with a spark of mischief in his clear eyes, "And who would you like to give such purity to, Yoongi?" he shakes his head hissing those words like an angry snake ready to attack.

You clench the hand that is still wrapped around your neck and strengthen his grip, wishing that the feel of his fingers on your skin would stay with you, "I've always wanted it to be yours, Jimin," you say softly, tilting your head at the slow descent of his hand.

"I'm very different from the nobles you grew up with, Y/N.... Don't expect me to catch you with a petticoat on," he continues by caressing a thin strap, lifting the fabric just a little, "Or for me to look away while you undress," he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips, reaches down to your chin and continues along the entire line of your neck, as water you adapt to the touch of him until he reaches your breast, your nipples turgid from the temperature of the water and his attentions are raised against the transparent fabric, the man can practically see their shape and color, he cups one breast as he pushes his head against your chest, kissing the soft, tantalizing flesh.

He adores you with his mouth and your sighs make him feel like a lion in a cage, his golden hair captures the last light of dawn as he pushes you against the shore and gets between your legs, studding you with kisses and caresses, returns to your mouth and finally with his tongue captures yours, inviting you to follow him.

You encircle his neck with your arms, trembling with excitement at the way he lets you touch him and the way he touches you, takes you by the hips and holds you against his massive, secure body.

"Jimin" you whisper in his ear as you feel something heavy and stiff against your inviolate intimacy, he mumbles something unintelligible, he seems lost in his bubble continuing to lick and kiss your neck, you tremble feeling incredibly hot, an unknown force urges you to rock against him and cling to his back with your fingernails, groaning suddenly.

This seems to awaken him and the spell is broken.

He flinches away, staring at you with agitation, in his gaze remorse is the one thing you don't want to read, but it's there.

"You need to get dressed," he warns you dangerously and with difficulty before pulling away from you completely, hurting you.

"H-Have I done something I shouldn't have done?" you ask bewildered, still with chills in your body from what his hands were capable of doing to you, this version of Jimin completely opposite from the boy who was kissing you only seconds ago is like a punch to the stomach.

"I said get dressed, Y/N! " he abruptly blurts out, "And stay away from Yoongi, I don't want to see you flirting with him, you're not a village woman," he runs a hand through his damp hair nervously, before stepping out of the water without caring about his nakedness, you turn your head away from him, the feeling of shame has returned to invade your limbs, and with a stone in your heart you bring your arms to your chest, stepping out of the water and groping for the dry clothes that Taehyung and Yoongi kindly gave you.

You don't see Jimin move away from you, clenching his fists and hitting the trunk of a tree until his knuckles are mangled, finding himself staring at the blood rushing to the grass with resentment, trying hard to forget your mouth begging his to be taken or the softness of your body that has enslaved him at an embarrassing speed.

You are worse than a circle of hell for him.

When you return to camp with your face pulled into an indecipherable expression, the boys study you in confusion noting also the strange attitude of Jimin who walks a few steps ahead of you.

The two of you seem farther apart than before and this certainly does not go unnoticed by the others, Yoongi tightens his lips as he reaches for the blond man who is walking back into the forest in search of more wood.

"Hey!" he exclaims behind his friend, "What happened at the lake?" he asks, Jimin snaps an eyebrow up.

"So you knew I was there?" he curls his upper lip over his teeth appearing menacing, but Yoongi's hard gaze doesn't lower.

"She's crazy about you, so it's clear that the fight stemmed from you, am I right?"

This simply rattles the blond more, "I didn't do anything at all, don't play cupid, man, because it won't stick with me."

"Or maybe it was a one-way conversation and you didn't even give her a chance to talk, you're such an asshole! She doesn't deserve a bastard like you, a guy who doesn't grab a chance like that when he has it at his fingertips," Yoongi blurts out, starting to turn back, but those words turn on a red flag in the younger boy who grabs the older one by the leather vest.

"And what would you like to do, Yoongi? Seize the opportunity yourself? I've seen how you watch her pretend to gather herbs for your infusions," at which point Yoongi chuckles wryly, his black eyes twinkling.

"I won't lie, I like her. But I also know to whom her heart belongs, and as a doctor I can well say that if you continue to keep her on the edge like you're doing now, that heart will get sick," he sighs, flinching, "Don't make me punch you, Jimin... you're no fool."

"I'm a criminal and she's a princess," he says without emotion on his handsome face, Yoongi snorts as he rolls his eyes.

"You are her hero, the crown wants her dead and you saved her, now she's a woman like any other and nothing forbids you to be with her," clarifies the older man with a raised eyebrow, as he walks away Jimin remains frozen in place.

‘She's a woman like any other.’

No, you are not like all the others, you are his princess and will remain so forever, which is precisely why he cannot allow another man to lay his hands on you.

Abandoning himself against the bark of an old tree he wonders if being with you would be worth it as a form of protection, he would never hurt you and would ensure you protection for life, the very idea of giving you his love has always terrified him, anyone who ever loved him is dead and he wouldn't want anything horrible to happen to you because of him, but now things have changed, you need him and he... needs you.

He finds you sitting in front of the fire, you're focused on the crackling flames, and if you notice his presence, you don't show it at all, you pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

Your thoughtful, melancholy expression suggests to him that you are still remembering the events of a few hours ago, recognizing that he was a real jerk for the way he treated you earlier, kissing you like a lover and then rejecting you like a cheap whore. He still feels ashamed and makes sure that each of his friends is asleep in their own tent before sitting silently next to you.

He hears you wince a little and out of the corner of his eye notices you turn your head away, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He smiles slightly, even as a child when you were offended by something you would puff up your cheeks and turn your head to the side, just as you are doing now.

Yes, you are still his lovely princess.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, moving a few millimeters closer to you, "I shouldn't have spoken to you and I especially shouldn't have touched you like that."

You frown in annoyance, snorting slightly through your nose.

"I don't object to the way you touched me, but you should keep quiet a little more," you mutter venomously, "You have the hands of an angel, but the tongue of a devil," you say casting a glance at his hands, you see the wounds and your heart sinks, you want to kiss them and curse that thought.

Those words trigger two completely different reactions in Jimin, on the one hand they help make him feel guilty, on the other he finds himself smiling internally, because you really don't know how devilish his tongue can be, if used in the right way.

"And you a mermaid's lips," he says taking your chin between two fingers, staring at you with such intensity that you feel naked.

He mirrors himself in your glossy irises and sighs, "Forgive me, after so many years of believing I'm not right for you, I forgot the most important thing."

"The most important thing?"

"Yes, you."

You gasp in surprise, registering his words only after a few moments of unbearable silence.

"You're saying that..."

"I am saying that I want to stay by your side, to be your protector and also your lover, if you will still allow me to be, Y/N."

His irises as clear as the waters of the lake gently brush against you, you feel your eyes tingling, and before he can see the tears streaming down your face you rush toward him, embracing him as if your life depended on it.

In a way it does, because without Jimin, your last piece of happiness that endures from childhood and which you have finally found again, you would have wandered in the void of loneliness for who knows how long.

You think back to your parents, to Harun, to all that you have lost and come to the conclusion that you were not yet ready to lose Jimin too, but he is here. You smile, pulling up with your nose before resting your lips on the boy's soft ones, who more than willingly accepts to surrender himself in your arms that are as small as they are warm and that scream familiarity.

"So you haven't forgotten me," you whisper, pulling away slightly, the blond shakes his head, snorting.

"Never, I tried to protect you by keeping you away from me, the king wants me dangling on a rope ... or at least it was until you made the mistake of saving me" he utters the last words with a note of reproach in his voice, staring at you sternly for the way you put yourself in danger.

But you don't lower your gaze, you won't feel guilty for saving the man you love.

"Now the two of us are here, together, do you want to blame me so much?" you murmur softly and his heart melts like snow in the sun.

He shakes his head, no, he cannot blame you. He, too, for love has made foolish and terrible decisions, and he will not let go of the chance to make up for all the pain he has caused you.

"I could never," he hisses almost painfully, closing his eyes as your fingers graze his hair and his lips reach for you, snapping another kiss.

You let him embrace you and he hold the back of your neck with one hand as he tries to deepen your contact, making it more intimate and slower than the more feverish kisses the two of you exchanged at the lake.

Your heart vibrates like the wings of a hummingbird, happy to give yourself in that way to the one man you have always loved and whom you know for certain you will love all your life. You would never have agreed to an arranged marriage; you hoped with all your heart that your uncle would never find a suitable suitor for you, and fortunately it did.

A commotion from one of the seven tents surprises you both suddenly, you separate slightly and cast a glance toward Namjoon's tent.

"He must have dropped one of his swords," Jimin mutters irritably, you, on the other hand, are traveling with your imagination, imagining sharing the tent with Jimin for the first time and blushing, since you were rescued the boys have taken turns to stand guard and let you have their little station, although strangely enough Jimin's guard duty was lasting for too many days, and as a result you have always used his bed made of furs and straw. Not quite like the one in your room at the palace, but by now you were well used to it,  considering the tower where your uncle locked you up.

"Come with me," he offers you his hand and you stare at it for a few moments, before extending yours and linking your fingers in a secure grip, "I know a place a little more... peaceful" the word slips between his teeth persuasively, you don't know what will happen tonight, but if he asked you to throw yourself off a mountain, you would do it as long as he stayed by your side at all times.

"Is it far?" you ask raising your skirt slightly, trying not to trip over tree roots and stones.

The blond looks ahead without letting go of your hand, "Just a little bit" he turns to you with his laughing eyes and you are enchanted at their color, he is lighter and more affectionate, he almost looks like that child Jimin you have missed so much.

You walk just enough to reach the thick, lumpy roots of a large tree, its branches entirely covering the night sky that until moments before was towering over you with its stars.

"Jimin... is ..." you try to say, but there is really no doubt.

The man nods.

"We are inside the lovers' forest, Y/N... this is the tree where according to legend their marriage was celebrated."

You look around, almost hoping to see the blooming arch where the first king and queen of your kingdom were married, eventually giving birth to your dynasty, but you see none of it, disappointed to realize that it is just a clearing of grass and flowers that seems to bow its head to the great tree that towers above it all.

"That's not how the stories described the place," you mumble slightly, your mother and Harun's stories spoke of magical creatures as spectators, flowers of every color and every shade decorating the lawn and the guests' walnut chairs, not to mention precisely the large archway on which roses and climbing plants had grown in honor of the two newlyweds.

You hear Jimin chuckle behind you, his hands encircle your hips and your back rests against his chest, you feel his warm breath on your neck, and goose bumps cause you to shiver.

"I never believed those stories and you know it," he says in a clear, amused tone, "But as I grew older I realized that something really happened here," he whispers in your ear.

With an elegant hand he lifts your chin slightly, bringing your gaze to the trunk of the large tree, you sharpen your vision and finally notice them.

"Runes?"

"Runes," the boy confirms, "This is the Lignum Vitae, the tree of life according to the legends, little princess," he chuckles as he turns away, his leather boots hardly audible among the uncultivated grass and damp earth.

"You don't believe that either?" you snort with a smile, you know you've always been the one to believe in everything your country's legends have handed down, but you would expect some cooperation from him, after all, he was the one who brought you here.

"I don't believe in magic, but I believe that lovers gathered here to bring offspring into the world, relying precisely on this tree," he explains with a shrug.

In fact, talking about a marriage in the stories was much easier if you wanted to tell something about the origin of the royal family to innocent children.

"They succeeded, didn't they? Look at me!" you laugh, pointing with a little bow, and Jimin does, looking at you with an affection and love that until morning he jealously kept to himself.

He walks to the tree and touches the runic symbols gently, in his mind an idea takes an increasingly clear and tantalizing shape.

"If magic really existed and we strengthened our ties to the tree, would everything fall back into place?" he wonders softly with furrowed brows, not wincing when you hug him from behind, as if expecting your closeness.

"We cannot get back what was taken from us, Jimin... even magic is useless in the face of death," your hands are intertwined over his heart, you feel it beating hard and fast, like a free and powerful horse.

"Life is what interests me," he admits, turning toward you.

He takes a few steps forward and you are forced to take as many steps backward, you don't see one of the raised roots of the tree and fall back with a little yelp, Jimin is quick to catch you before you can hit your head, and you both square off with wide-eyed stares.

"If I asked you to give me the gift of a child, here and now, what would your answer be?" he asks seriously.

You don't think about it for a single moment.

"I would answer that it is one of the desires that bind me to you, Jimin."

Another kiss comes, followed by another and another, his mouth demanding yours with such need that it seems almost savage, as if he wants to feed on you after all the years spent lusting after you in the shadows, fleeing like a wanted man of the worst kind.

He accompanies you on the damp grass and reacquaints himself with your neck, using the softness of his rosy lips to tease your tender skin, with the tips of his pearly teeth biting it lightly, and this causes an outcropping of dark, purple stains along the column of your throat, amused at imagining how others might react the next day once they set their gaze on you.

You don't even care, his attentions are a novelty, you welcome his mouth and tongue on your body as a blessing, you wouldn't turn him away from you for anything in the world, let them accuse you of being a prostitute, you and Jimin know the truth, which is that your body and soul have always belonged to the blond and no one has ever touched you as he is doing.

When he gets to the modest bodice of your dress you do something that must be strange to him, or at least you sense this from his gaze when you lift your skirt and stand helpless in his hands, like one of the wooden logs he cuts daily.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a furrowed brow.

Agitation clouds your cheeks, what's wrong?

"You said you want a baby," you say almost shyly, perhaps you misunderstood? But no, he had made it clear earlier....

"I did say that, but I don't understand why you just lifted up your skirt without responding to my caresses and now you stand still" his doubtful expression embarrasses you, that's how educators told you to do it, "Forgive me, my request was too bold."

"No!" you immediately exclaim, "I want to, only I was told to do it this way."

You see his nostrils flare to snort with irritation.

"Right...you've been locked in a castle full of soulless puppets" he shakes his head, "But that's not how I want to take you, Y/N, I prefer you receptive" he whispers persuasively, "Just like today at the lake" he continues, stroking the bare skin of your legs, pushing into your soft inner thighs, you feel your belly tighten heatedly.

"Let's leave certain unnecessary distances to those old nobles," he goes on, kissing you behind your ear, a tremor shakes you when his lips wrap around your earlobe, licking it with the tip of his tongue, "Take off your bodice, love, show me what a good girl you are, hmm?"

You nod without a drop of saliva in your mouth, Jimin's tongue hisses like a snake and you are drawn to his drawling words, you are his forbidden fruit and he can't wait to bite you and find out how sweet you can be and how deliciously you can bleed.

Each button that leaves a buttonhole is a soft kiss from him over the light blouse that still holds your breasts, mentally moaning the blond curses himself for not enjoying your eager body sooner and perfect for his fingers.

He would like to tear off your clothes instantly, but he restrains himself, how would you return to others without instigating some desire in them?. No, he is gentle when even the last garment leaves you and he can finally quiver at the sight of your naked body shivering under the icy night air, or perhaps it is his eyes that make you tremble?

He lifts himself off your body and tosses his tunic to the side, your eyes drink in the sight of his hard chest and the slight hair that descends to his private parts, which you did not see that morning, but you distinctly felt on your warm intimacy, and the air escapes your lungs when you notice something that in the sunlight has strangely escaped you, perhaps because you have tried not to stare at him too much, his chest is studded with small, shiny white lines, they are thin and almost intangible, but they are there.

You brush those lines with a tentative finger, feeling the reliefs with a question mark in mind, and in doing so his skin twitches, "What are these?" you ask gently, Jimin gives a small smile and kisses the knuckles of your hand.

"Every day spent without you," he pronounces solemnly, the wind rattles the leaves of the large tree and for a few moments it is as if you feel it voice whispering over the blond man's words. You chase away the feeling and embrace the boy once more with a tear running down your cheek. You were a fool to believe that he had abandoned you when all he had done was think about you.

You have a feeling that the air is warmer now that his head is buried in the hollow of your breasts, his moist tongue playing with the tip of a nipple initially causing a strange tickle in the center of your chest before a glowing sensation slips between your legs, making you blaze with desire, it's all more direct without your petticoat and you love every second of it.

You bite your lower lip, holding back a moan louder than your sighs, you don't want it to go away again, but it's stronger than you when the delicious sting of a bite makes your thighs tremble around his bare hips, you feel the length of his cock twitch against your skin, it's heavy and it arouses you to know that you have that effect on him, at that thought the wetness descends between your thighs against your will and you try to hide, but Jimin can read a woman's body and you are still too inexperienced to go unnoticed by a hunter like him.

"It's normal" he breathes on your lips imparting another deep kiss, "It means you like it" the tip of his nose rubs against yours trying to soothe you, your eyes fly to his cock when he lifts a little to settle himself better and all the blood rushes to your head, you don't know whether from the shame of seeing a naked man or from the incredible wave of pleasure that washes over you at noticing how thick and needy he looks, there is white liquid at the tip, dripping thickly down his veiny length that seems to contract under your curious and hungry eyes.

Then a thought alarms you, "Does it all have to go in there?" you point to your intimacy, though you don't know for sure, your educators had been vague and you never touched yourself, sometimes you felt the need as you imagined what an adult Jimin might look like, but you never dared to break the imposed rules.

A princess does not do such things as a street woman.

Yet, that's exactly where Jimin caresses you, his fingers dance over your moist folds with mastery and you block the instinct to close your legs, as you might when with his thumb he rolls over a spot that gives you particularly intense and wonderful sensations, "Jimin!" you grab his wrist trying to slow down his devilish circles, but your pelvis continues to chase pleasure against your will, you throw your head back and Jimin kisses the line of your jaw as if it is impossible for him to stop kissing you in any way.

"This is called the clit, love," you hear him smile, "And this is where I'm going to go all in...my cock will go into your sweet little pussy, Y/N," he hums moving his fingers to your needy slit, entering lightly with his light fingertips, you gasp at his sudden dirty language but find that you like it, it makes you feel desired.

You feel his fingers move inside you as his thumb continues to caress your clit, your lower abdomen trembles and stutters in despair with each jolt of pleasure, your teary eyes are lost in the immensity of the tree that seems to silently observe what is happening.

Jimin never goes beyond the elastic barrier he senses beyond your entrance, he merely teases you within inches of your entrance and it is amazing how liquid and copious your pleasure flows past his wrist until it drips onto the grass. His instincts are stronger than he is, he must have a taste of your sweetness and you abruptly hold your breath when his tongue catches another wave of your honeyed essence, you are devastating to his taste buds and he wants more, you find yourself crying and contracting your hips as you try to escape his mouth, he devours you by insisting on your scarlet pearl and when more drops of pleasure come he runs to lick them away from your slit, he seems to be going crazy or maybe he is.

"Stop, Jimin... Stop-oh!" you stiffen instantly when a firmer lick shakes your body and makes you explode in such pleasure that you squint and cry.

"Ssssh, princess" you feel Jimin's lips gathering your tears before placing a kiss at the corner of your stammering mouth; his lips are wet and glossy; he is the embodiment of sin.

He is still breathing down your neck as the thickness of his cock begins to furrow your folds to gather as much moisture as possible, the thick, shiny tip of his cock swirls around your slit and you reflexively contract your pussy muscles, it is almost funny how despite the pleasure that has shocked you, your pussy still tries to invite him inside her.

"It's going to hurt, my love" he warns you with a sharp breath, you nod immediately, this part has been repeated to you many times by those women whose job it was to instruct you in your duties as a wife, though none of them had ever told you that you could experience such pleasure that you would be left gasping for breath.

"I know," you smile, but Jimin seems a little anxious.

"It will be short-lived, I'll be gentle and-" you caress his face affectionately, you know that too, he would never intentionally hurt you.

"And I will have your baby," your heart warms every time you think about it, a baby with the same cheeks and eyes as Jimin? You would love him infinitely, Jimin melts into a real smile.

"Ours."

He intertwines a hand with yours as he prepares to enter and the next thrust makes your eyes widen, he is incredibly slow and gentle, but you have never had anything inside you before and you feel all too clearly his length piercing and widening your inner walls at his will, Jimin is breathing shallowly with sweat beading on his forehead in an attempt to keep calm, you hold him deliciously and you are extraordinarily beautiful as you stare at him with your eyes lost and your lips half-closed and swollen from his kisses.

"I-It doesn't hurt, don't worry, my love," you manage to murmur with a smile, that's right, it doesn't hurt.

It's just a strange sensation, the stretch stings and tingles, but it's nothing unbearable or terrible as you've been led to believe all your life.

Or maybe Jimin is a very good lover, whispers a little voice in your head.

Even so, you feel something warm dripping from your slit after a more direct lunge, running down one of your thighs and ending up on the damp grass; it is your blood, but you pay no attention to it, just as you pay no attention to the quick absorption of the earth near the tree roots.

The blond man nods, but he reaches down again to take a nipple in your mouth, massaging your breast as if he expects milk to come out of it already, your clitoris twitching pleasantly and his cock sliding more sinuously, now you can feel it tapping deeper and deeper, you can almost feel it in your belly and you accompany his thrusts by moving against him, you cling to his back with your fingernails, you hear him moan loudly and that sound excites you, you wonder if...

Before you even think, your hand slides over his chest and you rotate your thumb around one of his smaller, darker nipples, he stiffens with a hoarse sound in his throat and the intensity of his thrusts increases, he clings desperately to you as you tease him again, encircling his hips with your legs.

In the clearing the obscene sounds of your relationship are lost in the wind, the leaves of the tree moving gently almost as if blessing your union.

You kiss him once more and let his tongue take over your mouth, abandoning his deep sighs in you, your walls begin to vibrate ecstatically each time his cock repeatedly plows through them, your belly heats up and you squeeze his swollen length into your pussy, preventing him from leaving at all, Jimin increases his jet speed, now sure of the pleasure that envelops you like a bubble and crushes you against his body, he rides the waves of lust like a stallion, your lungs run out of breath and the world swirls around you.

"We're going to have a baby," he growls decisively, his once ice-blue eyes now a deep electric blue, "And I'm going to bring your uncle's head to you, love," he announces, repeatedly pounding into you at a more assertive and rough pace, his pleasure is snaking incandescently, he can't wait to cum inside you and fill you to the last drop, you will surely accept him as a good wife should.

You tremble with panting and his fierce lunges, praying that he will never leave you, your core is on fire, your walls wrap around him with desperation, and your clit is ready again to let you go in a spiral of enjoyment. You want it all, you yearn for it, you need it, you would kill for it all.

Making love with Jimin.

Yes.

Carrying his child.

Yes.

Having your uncle's head on a silver platter.

Yes.

You hold him in your arms as the first hot jet is shot inside you, he is still buried between your legs as he continues to come, you whimper and at yet another strand of his seed you stiffen, you open your mouth wide in a mute sound as you come with no more strength.

Your body is shaken, unable to recover and you don't understand why, you try to escape when Jimin comes out of your sweet depths, but he blocks you with his weight.

You stare at him shocked when he returns with his hand to your pussy, repeatedly rubbing your perky, still rigid pearl, you shake your head.

"No, it's too much!" you cry clutching your legs, but he continues fearlessly, "I can't do it," you gasp pleadingly.

"It's what you need, honey" he murmurs in your ear, "You're so sensitive you don't realize you need another orgasm to soothe your body, I should have fed you earlier like this, sweet little thing" he sighs with his wrist locked between your thighs, bliss finally comes in little spurts of pleasure that make you gasp and Jimin's thumb stops torturing you, you sag against him without strength, feeling nothing but the vibrations of your intimacy still reliving the intensity and strength of his presence.

"Thank you," you say turning a little toward him, who stares at you with all the love he has for you, "For everything."

But the blond man shakes his head, "You did it all, my princess, I just waited for you" you hear regret in his tone of voice and you're sorry, you don't want him to think back to all the time that kept you apart, now you're together and that's all that matters.

"We will be fine now," you nod.

"When I regain the kingdom" a kiss, "Our baby will be born" another kiss, "And I'll have the king's head to make you a gift" he snaps an even more intense kiss, "We'll be even better, to love you this and more, Y/N" he stares at you with devotion and you lose a beat.

"And I want it, I want it all, Jimin" you let yourself be cradled in your love's embrace and you notice a flash of lightning in passing, you widen your eyes and turn toward the big tree.

It was only an instant, but you swear you saw the runic symbols glow gold.

You kiss Jimin's neck with a smile, foretasting a flood of sweet happenings for both of you, you feel your lap throb gently and you know, a new dynasty is about to be brought into the world.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ

PAIRING: Son of evil queen! Jeonghan x daughter of hades!reader | son of belle! Joshua x reader

WORD COUNT: 6k

⛧ SYNOPSIS: You were supposed to steal the wand, and take over the world – to prove that you were evil once and for all, but over the course of two days, you find yourself taken over by your complex feelings and lust.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Brother! Seungcheol, Dom! Jeonghan & Joshua, childhood friend! Jeonghan, first love! Jeonghan, cheating, exhibition, fingerjng, degradation, unprotected sex, possessiveness, panty stuffing, spanking.

NOTE: Son of Gaston! Mingyu, Son of ursula! Dino.

JOIN THE TAGLIST: HERE

«"A WHAT?"» You and Seungcheol exclaimed in unison while your mother did not bother to look at you while she shaped her nails. «"A chance to go to Auradon"» She repeats her previous words yet again to you and your brother.

You could feel your insides twisting from the mention of the dreadful place. «"Mother, we are not going to that stinky place where people walk around with bright princess clothes and tiaras"» You say, speaking up like usual. Your mother knew all too well, it would be you who would instantly disagree with her decision. Because Seungcheol had never gone against your mothers words, for she did not give him a mind either.

Your mother always had a profound hate towards your older brother, no matter what he'd try to do to show her he was as evil as her or – the fact that he was trying to be. Maybe that was the problem – it was the fact that Seungcheol was not evil. He tried, tried hard to be what his mother expected him to be, but he just couldn't get himself to shove an old person into an alley or steal candy from a hungry child. He just couldn't be evil.

Or maybe the fact that he had taken after his father's genes and could easily use the power of that powerful ember if he had the chance to pass that barrier, and specially – inherited the radiant dark blue hair.

But you on the other side - well, you had dark purple hair, and you were just - as evil as she wanted you to be.

«"I agree with her, we are not going."» Your head whips around to look at him, your mouth gaping in revelation. Your mother's eyes instantly narrow upon hearing him. Standing up from her chair, she walks closer to where you both stood. Your hands intertwined with Seungcheol's, giving them a squeeze while she stared at both of you, on coming face-to-face with you. «"You both do not have an option, You're doing this for us and yourselves."»

Letting go of his hand, you cross your arms, walking closer to her. You tilt your head slightly, «"How about a no?"»

Her eyes flamed green, making your own eyes mirror hers. The Isle and your mother may have been deprived of any magic for years, but your mother's power to defeat you and your brother was nothing special.

Your usual contest was interrupted out of the blue - surprisingly - by your father.

«"Maleficent"» He moved from his spot on the doorway, while your head snapped towards him. «"You're hurting my daughter with your shenanigans yet again."» Your mother could care less about his comment. She walks away while both of you are approached by your father.

«"Listen, kids. Just think about it both of you, imagine if we do not have this fucking barrier preventing us from our freedom. It's all so simple really, you both go there with the other VKs, steal that wand, let us out of this stinky place and we take over the world again."» Those were the same old shit, repeating over and over from your parent's mouths.

You never had a deplored hatred towards the Auradon Or the ‘King and Queen’ but gosh did you want to avenge them for the childhood that was taken away from you.

Your father takes a step closer towards Seungcheol, his hand firmly placing itself on his shoulder and squeezed threateningly. «“I'm sure my son wouldn't want to disappoint me, would he?”»

‘I was never your fucking son’ - Gosh did Seungcheol just want to spit that out on his face but the hand almost bone crushingly squeezing his shoulder, stopped him. His face lowers down slowly, «Yes, father.»

You roll your eyes, having already expected his defeat against your father. You walk out, going to the only person that knew you inside out.

—

You rest your head against Jeonghan's chest. There were no words exchanged between the two of you, but he knew exactly what was running in your head.

«“I don't wanna go, Hannie”» You say, breaking the silence. «”Hm and why is that?”»

You roll your eyes yet again at his words, lifting your head to look up at him. «”You really are going to make me say it ain't you?”» Jeonghan feigns innocence at your words, «”Hmm I don't know what you're talking about.”» Your hand slaps his chest playfully, «”You know well, I can't be away from you, you jerk.”»

Jeonghan chuckles at your words, «”Tell me my evil little Y/n, did you bother to check who was selected to go to Auradon?”» Your eyebrows knit slightly, eyeing him in confusion. «”What are you talking ‘bout?”»

Jeonghan's lips stretch in a heartwarming smile, «”I'm coming with you too, dummy.”» Your eyes widen in astonishment, and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a tight hug. «”Thank god I'll at least have you by my side, I can't imagine seeing all those princesses and their glamour, and manage to not puke.”»

Just as you say that, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your head snaps back to the person, and you find your brother standing there. «”I still exist you know”» Both of you laugh at his words, running to him while he pouts at the both of you.

—

Your fingers held the handle of your bag over your shoulders, while you waited for the other selected ones. Your expression swiftly turns disgusted when your eyes fall on the tall guy who emerges from the crowd. «”Don't tell me that jerk is coming too, gosh I can't have my life being ruined any more.”» Seungcheol chuckles next to you upon hearing you, knowing well you were talking about Gaston's son.

As if on the talk of the devil, Mingyu approached your figure, you knew him all too well to not guess his next words. «”Aren't you a little too cranky today, beautiful?”» He smirks down at you – god was he just as jerky as his father. You take a small step closer towards him, «”Fuck off before your face is unidentifiable by the time we walk out of the barrier.”» Mingyu scoffs under his breath, walking away from you.

«”He's right though, what's got you so cranky?”» You hear the familiar voice from behind and turn around to find Jeonghan walking up to you, his hands buried in his pockets while his bag hangs over his shoulder.

You let out a soft gasp, as soon as your eyes fell on him, his dark blue hair was turned into long black hair where his bangs fell over his face softly. You barely gave a mind about his words, while letting his arm wrap around your waist. «"What's up with the sudden hair change?”» He smiles smugly, his eyes meeting yours «”You like it? I did it for you.”» Jeonghan winks down at you at the end of his sentence, giggling under his breath when you roll your eyes at him.

«”I guess it looks good.”» You shrug him off before walking towards black limousine as you throw your bag inside.

Just as you were about to plop yourself onto the seats, you feel a tug at the back of your collar. You turn around to find your sworn enemy – Dino standing in front of you. His lips curl up in a smirk, «”It feels so nice to know that you're coming along, cause I want you to see me succeed at getting the wand before you can.”» You scoff at his words, «”Oh really? I didn't know you were so pathetically waiting for my validation.”»

His pupils dilate slightly in anger, and his hands fly to the collar of your shirt – you mirror him, tugging on his collar harshly.

«“Little girl thinks her parents are going to think she's really evil once she gets her hands on the wand, does she?”» You scoff at his words, but before you could speak anything else you feel Seungcheol and Jeonghan pull you back from his grip. «“So hot-headed.”» Jeonghan tchs under his breath but it was well audible for you. You shoot him a glare while you take your seat next to the window, grumpily.

—

You hear Seungcheol gasp under his breath next to you, when he finally steps out of the car. Completely contradicting you – who stood there with pure disgust and displease in your blood. Jeonghan clearly mirrored your feelings, as he stood next to you. You were met face-to-face with the new crowned prince who stood in front of all of you with a blue perfectly fitted formal suit, a napkin weirdly folded and kept in his pocket.

All the seven of you instantaneously recognized the man. ‘The great Crown Prince’ - the exact words the anchor person said the other day when you had been watching the only ever channel that was broadcasted in the Isle of the Lost.

«“Hi I'm Joshua Hong. The Crown Prince of Auradon.”» He speaks, causing you to snap out of your trance. His eyes turn into crescents when he smiles, and he holds out his hand to you. And you hold your hand out but just before your hands could meet, someone intervenes and shakes his hand. You look up to find Jeonghan, eyeing the man who was the same height as him with a forced smile.

You don't give it much of a thought and stand back. «“I don't think you need our introduction.”» Soon he retrieves his hand, snuggling it in between his pockets. «“Yea, definitely, I hope you make yourself comfortable here.”» He walks off and soon a bright cheerful skips happily towards you.

«“I'm Dokyeom, Fairy Godmother’s son!”» The mention of his mother instantly catches your attention, «“Fairy Godmother? Like the bibbidi bobbidi boo?”» He nods eagerly, his smile stretched ear-to-ear. All of you questioned how he managed to keep that smile so bright. «“Come along, I'll show you the way around!”»

—

Your heavy breaths are almost heard throughout the room in the museum. You sure had gotten lost from the others, but fuck you were lost in his dark brown eyes as he started down at you with gaping lips. «“H-Hannie, what are you doing?”»

You definitely did not expect to find yourself in this position, pinned against the smooth wall of the Museum of Auradon. Breathless and thoughtless under his gaze, his fingers disappeared inside your tight leather jeans while his free hand tucked your leg around his waist. «“Something I've desired to do for a long time, Y/n.”» and with that, his lips were back on yours, your tongues intertwining and he slowly caressed the skin of your thigh ever so softly. His breathing turns heavy in seconds mirroring yours, the sparks caused by the wet loud kisses push away the consciousness of your whereabouts and what you had to do.

You slowly part away with a heavy breath, your eyes meeting him in a hazy gaze. «“I think it's time I finally claim you as mine baby, all fucking mine.”»

Your next response gets caught in your throat and a choked moan leaves your lips as his hand slips past your pants. His fingers effortlessly move behind your panties, cupping you whole. His lips curled against the skin of your neck after noticing how the arousal seeped out of you. His hair tips tickled your ear lobe, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. «“Looks like someone's as excited as I am.”»

«“Shut up”» Your words cause your jaw to be gripped tightly out of nowhere making you gasp. «“I may keep up with your bratty attitude all the time, but while you're under me, know your fucking place. Got it?”» Your throat runs dry from the way his jaw clenched in anger while his fingers continued to work on you.

«”I need words, baby.”» His stern toned words spark your brain in a way you could never imagine, «Yes, Han!»

Jeonghan innocently shoots you his angelic smile as if his fingers weren't knuckles deep inside you while everyone was wandering off searching for you. You moan into his ear as his fingers relentlessly move inside you, searching for your g-spot so skillfully. His curling fingers found your spot in no time, as he had you gripping on to his blue leather jacket ever so tightly as you parted your legs.

His hands come down to circle your waist in a split second to hold you against him. Your back arched while your eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

You probably didn't hate him in your whole life except for right now when he retreats his hand from your pants when a low «“Gonna cum”» slips past your lips. «“We gotta go before we get caught baby”» Jeonghan shoots you his smile yet again, with not an ounce of guilt in him. All you could do was stare at him with your tear glossed eyes, and let him manoeuvre your body out of the museum

—

Your hands clutched onto your books while you walked into Auradon Prep. You find Jeonghan sitting on the bleachers next to your brother, with his arm hanging around Seungcheol's shoulder. Before you could walk past him, you feel a familiar arm wrap around your waist. «“Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?”»

If you had heard the same words from Jeonghan just a day before at the same time, you would have elbowed him instantly. But you would be lying if his low voice did not give you butterflies from the way the name fell off his lips. You quickly free yourself from his embrace, your cheeks flaring red, but your body and his arms do not let you get any further away from him.

You look up at him in mock annoyance but his lips curl up around the corners. The bare distance between the both of you caused your memory to flash in front of your eyes, of last night. The fact that you had to take care of your little problem thanks to his antics. «“Don't try to get away from me.”»

All your movements come to a halt at his low order, and you huff in annoyance. But before you could speak to him any further, you hear a loud, «“Y/N!”» and you turn around to find Dokyeom and Woozi – Aurora's son, walking towards you. With all the strength you had, you break free from Jeonghan’s hold which was loose around your waist and fix the nonexistent curl in your outfit.

«“Hey! Would you like to join us for the preparation for Joshua's coronation?”» «“Sure!”» You never expected your voice to come out so high-pitched which would make Jeonghan snicker under his breath if he hadn't heard their request. Jeonghan shoots daggers down your figure while you walk away with Dokyeom.

—

«“So,”» You trail off, catching Dokyeom and Woozi's attention, «”It's not even been a month since I'm here, why'd you pick me?”» Dokyeom shoots you his infamous smile, «”Because Joshua hyung wanted one of the VKs to give their ideas since you're also a part of Auradon Prep. And well certainly, he suggested you would be a great option.”»

You hesitantly smile from his words, not quite sure what was going on, and what your reaction was supposed to be. «”How's everything going on?”» You flinch when you hear an oddly familiar voice behind you, and you look back to find Joshua towering over you.

«”Gosh, you scared me!”» You exclaimed at him to which his eyes turn into crescents as he lets out a little giggle. «”Oh I did not mean to.”»

You step away from him, so he could talk to the two in-charges. Your bottom lip juts out in boredom while you stand there. Your trail of thoughts is interrupted by Joshua mentioning your name out of nowhere, only for you to look up at him to find him looking at you with questioning eyes. «”Would you care to join me in my office, Y/n? I would like to have a conversation with you.”»

His gentle tone and voice contradicted Jeonghan's teasing tone and low voice, but it sure made you flustered either way but you mentally slap yourself before you could be so.

—

«”What'd you want to talk about, Joshie?”» The man looks at you, quite caught off guard by the nickname but he proceeds to his seat nonetheless. «”Joshie?”» He questions only to be met with your unbothered expression while you take your seat in front of his desk.

«“So why'd you bring me here?”» You decide to get straight to the point, without beating around the bush for long. You cock your eyebrows at him only to be met with a quite surprised expression.

«“Well, do you know for a fact that we have cameras installed in all the buildings owned by the king and queen?”» You suddenly straighten your back from the topic, «“Yea?”» Joshua breathily giggles a bit before leaning forwards on the table. «“Did you know we have hidden cameras installed which are not quite accessible to everyone?”» You furrow your eyebrows slightly. «“What do you mean, Joshua? Get to the point.”»

«“Alright then, could you explain this?”» He turns the laptop in your direction, the image of your figure being pinned against the wall while Jeonghan has his hands dipped inside your pants. You were too startled to notice the fact that Joshua was now behind you, with his torso leaning down next to you with his hands in his pocket. «“I have a lot of questions, princess. But god could I not help but want to make that pretty face scrunch up like that for me.”»

The irony of the nickname and his words go straight down to your cunt. «“Oh how I would love to wrap my hand around that neck of yours baby.”» A low moan gets caught in your throat. «“Fuck! Isn't this wrong?”»

«“Did not know the evil little girl cared about what's wrong or what's right.”» Although the man towered over you from behind you, you could hear the smirk in his voice. His words cause your demeanour to change in a split second. You raise yourself and rest your bottom on the edge of his desk. Your fingers wander off to pull him by his collar, and you click your tongue before whispering, «“Oh Joshie, wouldn't your people be so disappointed in you for this? Imagine what they're going to do if they find out their crown prince is fucking a VK”»

«“You're quite bold for a slut who was rubbing her thighs just from meek words while she watched herself .”» Saying that, Joshua’s hands move to grasp your wrist in one hand before he's turning you around and bending you over instantaneously. His large hand covers your ass almost completely, as he caressed the soft skin over the leather.

You yelp when his hand comes down on your ass, catching you off-guard. «“Mhm let's see, you think your little lover would be excited to know the fact that you're bending over with your ass out for another man?”» His words look down on you, but gosh you were not supposed to get wetter as each word left his mouth. So instead of giving into the low whine threatening to escape, you decided to taunt him. «“Really? Cause what are your-”»

You barely get to finish when his hands come down to slap your ass again. «“So fucking fiesty aren't you?”»

Joshua's fingers tuck under your pants, swiftly pulling off your pants with your panties. He tears away your panties hastily, leaving behind a red mark on your inner thighs from his rough move. «“Josh-”» Your words are cut off from his fingers pushing the soaked fabric into your mouth. «“At least that's gonna shut you up for some time, wouldn't it baby?”»

Joshua held your hands behind your back with one hand while his other hand undid the zipper of his own formal pants. «"Do you think you can handle my cock? In this tight fucking pussy?”»

Joshua's hand slap against your smooth skin yet again, before sliding down to your heat. His thick fingers plunge right inside you within seconds thanks to your dripping arousal. Your moans came out muffled as you pushed your ass desperately into his touch. Your body and voice box betray you as soon as his fingers thrusted them deep inside you. «“Look at you moaning already, you like it don't ya?”»

You whine at the way his thick fingers stay still inside you while being knuckles-deep. You move your hips over his hand only to be welcomed with a slap over your ass. «“So darn impatient, darling.”» Joshua's tone came out sounding annoyed, but God would he be lying if he said he didn't like your bratty behaviour. Contradicting his words, his actions made it seem obvious how much he needed you to be what you are when he pressed his rock-hard cock against your ass.

Unexpectedly for you, his free hand moves forward to pull the fabric out of your mouth. You barely have any mind to question the way he stuffed your panties inside the back pocket of his pants before his fingers curl up inside you.

«“Let's give you what you want, shall we?”» His fingers thrust forward inside you, and your hands fumble to grab the corner of his desk before he is scissoring you open. «“Or should I leave you hanging like he did yesterday?”»

A loud ‘no’ escapes you, followed by a series of ‘please’ and ‘let me cum’. The thought of having to be edged again made your brain turn jelly, and you push your hips back into his hand yet again. Joshua's dick twitches in his pants from your bratty move, and his hand comes down to hold your hips in a bruising grasp.

«“Be nice, or else I might as well just use your mouth instead of this slutty cunt.”» The alternative change in his words and tone did something to your whole body. The way he spoke to you in such a soft tone with praising words, to change it downright degrading and condescending.

Your thighs shook convulsively with everything going on, and your inner walls clenched around his fingers. You moan out loudly when you feel the cold metal of his fingers touch your inner walls, showing you just how deep he was, getting you cumming around him in seconds.

Joshua pulls his fingers out, and instantly groans at the sight of your own cum seeping out of your hole. «“As much as I'd love to just fuck your mouth right now, I'd rather fill this cunt of yours with my cum.”»

Without a second thought, Joshua pushes his cock inside you. A loud gasp erupts from you, and the way his girth stretches you out causes you to lift your legs off the ground. «“Josh!- fuck- Slow down- nngh”» Your words are cut down by his two of his fingers which invade your mouth harshly. His thumb presses down on to your tongue, «“I get to fucking decide what I do, you're gonna take what I give like the pretty girl you are, alright?”»

Your eyeballs are rolling back in pleasure when his hips slap against your ass, his thrusts so fast it makes your vision go blurry in seconds from tears. The heat radiating from your body has the glass under you, foggy.

His hand which pressed down on your tongue moved to grip your hair locks. He yanks your head up, and your eyes are – yet again – met with the lewd image of you and Jeonghan playing on the screen. But the things he was doing to you right there was incomparable to what played on the device. But God forbid, the dirtiness of the whole scene had you dripping down onto his balls and your own legs.

«“Yea, go ahead, watch yourself. Watch how fucking slutty you can be for some dick. Wonder what your lover's going to think about this.”»

Your hazy brain could – neither comprehend his words nor – realise that the video was playing on loop. Low words of ‘harder’ and ‘please’ are released from you between your moans. And Joshua was more than ecstatic to comply. His hips almost leave behind marks from the way they met so harshly with the skin of your ass, you were closer to your edge than you knew.

With a loud scream, your walls pulsated around him as your orgasm came crashing down. Joshua grunts and groans behind you, riding out his own orgasm as he stained your walls with his cum.

You both take minutes before Joshua's hips cease to move, and he pulls his now-soft cock out of your abused hole.

You slowly push your body upwards, your hands moving to brush through your hair to make it look tad-bit presentable.

«“Not going to lie, that was so fucking hot. Didn't know you'd have this side to you.”» You say right after you finish zipping your pants. Joshua's lips curl up, looking so innocent that it makes you doubt if he was the one who had your legs shaking just now. «“I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it.”» You take slow steps towards him, getting closer towards him. «“Looks like the future ideal king for the people has a nasty little side to him.”»

Your eyes slowly trail down to his plump lips, mirroring his own eyes. Your eyes linger on his perfectly sculpted lips for longer than you'd expected, longer than you'd wanted. But your head is swift to turn to the side when he leans down to try and connect your lips together. Causing his lips to be met with your cheek.

Your eyes closed shut when as you stilled in your place, Joshua pressed his lips against your cheek a little more before pulling away. You surely did feel bad for that, but the image of Jeonghan and the feeling his lips left on you, had you chasing that taste more than anything.

Your eyes open ever so slowly and they widen when they find Jeonghan's figure watching through the glass window from afar. You could barely make out his expressions but your heartbeat turns uneven and your eyes blare green. Joshua, who had moved steps away from you, looks at you, meeting your glowing eyes.

«“Y-Y/n your eyes-”» before he could finish his sentence, you're running out of his office.

—

You pace around in your room, there was little to no light illuminating across the roomroom, just how you usually liked it and wanted it to be. Your radiant green eyes flared up every second, you felt like everything was coming crashing down. The inner voices inside your brain screaming at you for everything, you could currently care less about the fact that the whole reason you were in Auradon was to steal the wand. At least not when your first love and your only comfort person is probably going to leave you.

You hear a single knock on the door and your body stills in your tracks, a low pathetic sound escapes you. You take slower steps than ever, knowing exactly who was behind the door. You barely open the door a few inches before the door is slammed open. You flinch from the loud noise, but the man in front of you could care less. (He couldn't)

His hand covers your neck whole while he pins you against the door. «“You liked that huh? Getting your cunt fucked by someone else which wasn't me?”» There was a faint blue glint in his eyes, while his black long strands fell over his face ever so perfectly. His jaw clenched in anger, but the hand around your neck just held you in place. «“Jeonghan, I-I can explain.”»

You choke on your words, and a tear slips out of the corner of your eye. And Jeonghan's face instantly becomes soft, and the hand around your neck swiftly cups your cheek. His other hand pulls you into his embrace as he circles his arm around your waist. «“I-I'm so fucking sorry Hannie, I-I didn't- I-I'm so sorry, don't leave me, please don't”»

This was probably the second time he ever saw you cry this hard in his embrace, and he had known you for his life. Jeonghan's heart clenches from the way tears rolled down your eyes. His hand squeezes your cheeks a little, «“Baby, stop crying, look at me please?”»

If Jeonghan was honest, he wasn't really phased by the fact that you had fucked with Joshua. But what infuriated him was the fact that you'd let him cum inside you. But he would he lying if he said it didn't turn him on when he saw you getting fucked by Joshua, his dick twitched in his pants when he realised what kind of effect he still had on you when he saw your reaction to the clip. So maybe all that anger was just for show so he could fuck you dumb.

By the time your tears had stopped rolling down your eyes, you looked up at him slowly. «“You didn't let him kiss you, did you?”» You eye him in confusion, «“What? No-”» Your lips were met with his soft ones in a split second. Your eyes closed and your body melted in his embrace. You hum into the kiss, a low moan from you being swallowed by him as you place your hands around his neck.

Pulling away, Jeonghan looks down at your lips. The bare few seconds of kissing them harshly got them all red already, making him curse under his breath. «“I'm not angry, angel,”» Never had you expected yourself to get flustered over that unlikely nickname but unexpected things happen, right?

His lips are back on yours before you know it, but with more chastity, his tongue invades your mouth while he groans into your mouth. You moan around his tongue, letting your hips grind on his thigh unconsciously.

Jeonghan pulls away slightly, his lips still brushing over your lips, «“I'm fucking jealous that he got to fuck this cunt of yours before me.”» There was a seductive glint in your eyes when you tightened around his neck «“Then fuck me till I forget he was ever inside me.”» His parted lips curve into a smirk, «“Oh fuck I will.”»

His arms move you towards the bed, his figure manhandling you to lay on the mattress, before his hands instantly come down to spread your legs apart. Jeonghan barely wastes any time before pulling your purple leather pants down your hips and off your legs. The cold air hitting your bare pussy had you wincing. He presses his thumb over your clit, applying slight pressure while rubbing slow circles.

You groan from the stimulation, already having fucked one, your legs soon started shaking due to the pleasure. «“So sensitive aren’t you? He fucked you so hard, you can barely handle this?» Jeonghan’s tone was humiliating, making slick seep out of you.

Your lips part widely in a silent gasp when his index and middle finger push into you in a swift move. Instantly curling up as they thrust into your G-spot, his lips tug at the corner from the way your face scrunches up in pleasure – which wasn't such an unfamiliar sight for him but gosh did he want to savour it so badly.

And your sensitiveness soon had your thighs closing around his hands while your own gripped the sheets with your nails digging into the fabric as you came around his fingers.

As much as Jeonghan yearned to sit back and watch your fucked out face while your pants bounced off the walls and filled his ears – his patience ran thin and he was soon undoing his pants, pulling his boxers off to free his cock.

«“How about this, angel? Let's see how many times I can make you cum till I imprint my dick inside that tight little pussy of yours”» His words had you clenching around nothing while his hands came down to grip your wrists together.

Moans guised as gasps leave your mouth when you feel his length slide in between your folds, teasing you with his slow movements before he slammed his cock into you.

Jeonghan’s grip on your wrists tighten, while he leans down to lock your lips with his. His teeth tug on your bottom lip, almost leaving behind a bruise. Skin-slapping sounds resonate through the room as his hips meet yours harshly for every thrust.

Pulling away, Jeonghan moves down to kiss your jaw slowly while whispering – «“Gonna fuck you till you fucking forget his name, babygirl.”» The nicknames, along with his long fingers sliding over your skin and gripping it so bruisingly all while his dick managing to hit all the right spots in you had you floating in your headspace.

Your mind felt clouded from the pleasure as Jeonghan had you cumming hard around him in minutes. Nevertheless, that didn't stop his hips from slamming into you at a faster pace. His hands come up to move the hair strands that stuck to your forehead due to sweat, out of the way. «“You're mine, angel. And we're gonna win this together.”»

—

The next day when you woke up, you found yourself in a position no different than that you slept the last day – your face nuzzled against Jeonghan’s chest, his arms secured around you.

But soon the both of you make your way to the main hall of Auradon prep due to the loud announcement that told you to. Your heels clicked against the stony path as you made your way next to Seungcheol with Jeonghan following next to you. You look around the surroundings, and your eyes froze on the person in the table right next to you – the same blonde head and the same brown eyes from yesterday.

Your eyes stay on his before you are pulled back into the present by the King’s voice.

“Good morning Auradon Prep, this will come as quite a surprise for you, but three weeks from now, The Royal Cotillion will take place. The preparations will begin from today onwards, and so will the proposals for the Royal dance.” His next words are almost drowned out as you take in the information.

Jeonghan turned around to grasp your hand – mirroring Joshua who had moved a few steps closer to you. “Y/n will you be my date?” The two voices echoed in your way – all while you stood there, absolutely dumbfounded about how you found yourself in this situation. How had you forgotten your main goal along the way? Was this what you were fated to? But most importantly, who were you going to choose?

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 7

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

i bust my ass for this one. nuff said.

NSFW as always 18+

“Ay, por dios.” Miguel whispered under a strained whine of a breath.

Why? Why did he give in and go to a place he had no business going to? Every slip of the mind, every slip of the tongue, small-minded, aware decision led up to such a thing. He couldn't remember the last time he was ever this stupid that didn't have disastrous consequences. Miguel was a smart man but he wasn't thinking with his head, he was thinking with his dick, which was hardening with every second he spent in this small bathroom with you. It felt like the pale tiles on the walls were thickening by the minute, making it even more impossibly stuffy. Miguel hooked a finger in the collar of his compression shirt, the humidity of each other's company getting worse.

You on the other hand couldn't believe he would even show his face here. You thought that maybe if you were lucky, you'd find someone else to satiate your desires that were never really satiated. Every moment you spent attempting to pry open the door, the more you weren't sure you were handling this. You thought you could. Well, you thought .you could try and keep it to yourself at least, not letting an entirely lewd comment slip from your salivating tongue except for that off-the-record phone call. Maybe at least telling him would alleviate a light fraction of this. Your mouth was full of things you wanted to say, you were sure you were about to burst- so you groaned out instead, the resistance the door providing wasn't helping. Your fist indented into the metal handle, and you realized your strength doubled tenfold while he was in the room. You leaned back on the door and closed your eyes, slumping into the wood. Miguel was pacing before finally gripping his hands onto the sink and hanging his head down, occasionally stealing glances into his reflection. He looked pissed. He was pissed.

He couldn't be anything other than pissed and aroused when you were here, looking delicious in that tiny little bikini. He'd rip it off with his teeth if he had to.

“This is all your fault.”He snapped his unkind gaze back at you, his eyes beaming a deplorable void of blood red. His fangs ripped out of his gums as he stood up straight.

“Oh really?” You crossed your arms, scowling up at his sour expression. “Your 'higher authority' is really pissing me the fuck off right now. What are you doing exactly that's helping the situation?” You pointed an accusing finger at him, unable to control your bare feet inching forward.

“Who was the one that instigated all of this?” Miguel glared at you like you just caused nuclear annihilation.

His lips were split into an unreadable frown, his skin radiated heat and searing hot anger that you were desperate enough to let make your knees buckle and turn limp. It was obvious by the way your eyes widened and the way your lips parted. You paused for a minute to stare at him and it honestly felt like hours, like you could look at him for hours. The tension got thicker and thicker, your eyebrows tensed as your face formed into a desperate wince- whining out. You buried your head in your hands and sighed, rubbing the skin of your face in an attempt to try and compose yourself.

It wasn't working.

You peered back and him and the way he was leaning on the sink with those massive arms crossed, looking down at you with an equally desperate and vacant face he was attempting to conceal made you lean your head back on the door and bite your lip. Miguel was staring at your lips, he wanted to bite them and draw blood as you drooled.

He swallowed thickly. Miguel sighed and raked an impatient hand in his hair to try and stop ogling at you, but it was impossible.

His eyes were designed to stare at you only

His lips to be on yours only.

His hands to feel your skin only.

His cock to be in your pussy.

Only.

“I said don't look at me like that.” He demanded huskily, his eyes dilating beyond comprehension as your mere frame clouded his brain into a hazy yet wild sex-driven lust. Your nipples hardened under the thin fabric, he glanced at them and he wanted to roll his eyes back into his skull. You flashed him a teasing look, unable to control yourself.

“I'm sorry I never listen or do what I'm told.” You gave him a mischievous smirk, not feeling sympathetic in the slightest, sincerity was not evident. You were toying with him and Miguel an itching hungry slice of him was dying to play. “I expect all your women just...do what they're told. Sitting at the foot of your bed like a kicked animal, begging for a good fucking.” You chuckled lowly as you said the words, enjoying the fact that Miguel was starting to play along too, scoffing and smirking at you like you were stupid. His feet were mindless, inching closer and closer to you without even realizing it. Spellbound by your scent, he was wrapped in your game, your mesmerizing fantasy. How many rounds before he realized how near he was to eternal glory, heaven incarnate before reminding the safest place he could be was the void? God, he wanted your heaven though, to lose himself in you.

“What about yours? Your men.” Miguel retaliated but without the force, he usually would, this time he was curious, his voice was low and filled with traces of disdain.

“My men?” You flicked your tongue on your back teeth before presenting him with a faux pout. “Awh my men…”

Your confidence simmered a little when your eyes caught onto the fact he was so close, looming. He put his palms on either side of your head, trapping you and in turn trapping you in this little dance of death that never ended. Eyes widening a twinge, you could clearly see your glinting reflection in the black pits of his iris, his gaze was ravenous, eating you and fucking you with just that. You met him with a half-lidded expression, smiling lazily as his breath was fanning your skin. The way he was this close to you had to be illegal.

“The ones that mediocrely please you, thinking they did something but in reality you were desperate for me...whimpering my name in their ear, making them insecure and questioning who I am...hm?” Miguel smiled crookedly, presenting you with those pearly white fangs as he saw through your side pieces. You were about to start salivating, you wanted to stick your tongue out and lick them for him.

“You think too much of yourself.”

“Oh really? Don't let your ego lie to you.” Miguel chuckled, drinking in every moment of this little interrogation like a thirsting animal, he could do this forever.

“Did they suck your cock in your office, under your desk? How many pitiful blowjobs did you endure? Avoiding me really is shit, huh?” You were mocking him, brows tensing and ensuring he was about to sever a nerve. His nose flared as he breathed deeply, you were enjoying mixing his brain up with every single emotion anyone could ever experience. Miguel felt a chain break inside of him, one of his hands left the door and squeezed your cheeks, turning your head from side to side a fraction as if he was examining you, a whimper left your lips at the contact. He was properly touching you with his cold, apathetic hands. It felt like pure bliss combined with inexplicable torture.

“Such a dirty mouth for someone with such sweet lips.” He cooed, eyes transfixed on such a divine beauty. Your confidence was shattering in his palm, a helpless look swiped across your face and his fingers clutched onto your skin tighter- he felt the blush pierce his fingertips. 'Tell me…” He gritted through trapped teeth “Does it physically hurt when you think about me? How bad you want me.”

Miguel's face was unkind and exceptionally determined, darkened and ashen about all the things he's had to endure when he just merely thought about you.

“You want me to be honest?” You reaffirmed softly, flitting probe on his lips, biting your own to conceal a broken moan that would fall away at any unexpected moment. Miguel sighed raggedly and leaned into yourear, your scent surrounded him and he was hard as a rock. It was his favorite. So sweet. Euphoric.

“Yes.” His hot breath tickled your ear and made the small hairs on your neck stand up. You hummed in agreement, he leaned back and his hungry ogling landed back on your face.

“But I thought we were avoiding each other.” You quipped with that flirtatious smirk that could send any man up to the clouds searching for a paradise that they can't have.

“I don't care. You're mine. Only mine.” Miguel was washed over by a venomous possessiveness, his jealousy knew no bounds when it came to you. It didn't matter if you were on the other side of the world or in front of him, it didn't matter if you were actually together or not, you both wanted each other. You were his. His property. The toy that he could never play with.

“That's a little unfair don't you think?” You pouted again. “You avoiding me makes me mad when you know how much we're both unraveling. You could've cum on my face weeks ago but no, you wanted to stick to your moral code. That seems to be more important to you. ”

“Every time you look at me, I contemplateit.”

“Even now?” You took his hand in yours and placed a taloned finger in between the string that held your bikini at the front, you swiped it down and the string snapped with an unbridled ease. Miguel was following alone with your ministrations like a confused and lost puppy, his face switching between confused, aroused, and amused.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your tits fell free, nipples hardened and perky under his electricity glare. He was turning into a bloodhound as he saw what he had been fantasizing about in real-time. He swallowed thickly as he witnessed your chest rise and fall, completely hazy and blissed out. Very pleased with yourself. Very pleased. Miguel was enclosed in a state of hunger and itching pain. The more he told himself he wasn't able to do something, the more he wanted to do it, to prove it wrong. It was the hegemonic masculinity rearing its ugly head as always but he just couldn't help it- it was in his DNA. Miguel was a broken man, aching for release from the beautiful torment that your presence constantly provided, that your presence constantly reminded. You had finally done him in, finally made him crack. Tiny beads of sweat dot his forehead, it could be mistaken for dew drops that your soft lips could kiss off, maybe if this were photo season- but alas this was real life and it's been a real fight just to keep his mind from committing treason. But you were here, standing in front of him, you without even uttering the words. Miguel was battling demons, he didn't know how to deal with someone else’s. That's why he never let anyone get too close- except you. Now you were here, begging him to kiss you without even saying it.

“Now...my turn. Tell me...every single thing you've ever wanted to do to me.” You breathed, eyes glinting with a warm and inviting hue, bright and dim all at once, radiating sincerity. You leaned in slightly and poked your tongue out and licked one of his fangs slowly. It felt like his heart was being strangled and his dick was about to break. His blood was roaring. Any remaining shred of consciousness he possessed had disappeared the moment you did that.

Miguel didn't wait anymore, his breath hitched when he grabbed your face harshly and kissed you. His lips seeking to find yours, to taste the forbidden fruit that he longed for, that he tried so long to resist. But his resistance was futile, he wanted to be good but he knew deep down he wasn't. He wasn't a good man, no matter how hard he wanted to convince the world and himself he was, especially his society. Your body stilled and felt like it was about to evaporate due to the sheer heat that was pent up inside your body- now it had a semblance of gratifying release. His kiss was fiery and passionate, angry and desperate as he shoved his tongue in your mouth to taste the wet sweetness he was made to taste. Your lips reciprocated his actions eagerly, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him so close. You moaned into his mouth, eyes screwing shut as his tongue massaged against yours, diving into the back of your throat. A low rumble reverberated in his chest as you let out that pretty sound. The way you were reacting resembled that of a horny virgin that had never been touched. Any other man didn't matter because you weren't touched by him. The thought made him lose it.

Miguel grabbed your hips and held you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around your waist. His hands and fingers gripping onto your smooth skin, talons pinching. He grunted as he hurridly and unkindly sat you on the sink, standing between your thighs. Miguel's hands were rough and calloused, he buried his hands in your hair and pulled hard, your lips biting against his before he kissed the shell of your ear.

“You wanna know? Fine, I'll tell you.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, his jaw grinding together, if he applied more pressure, sparks would fly from his teeth. “You have no idea what I've been through. You think you do but you don't. I have denied everything. Every need, every desire, every urge and impulse I have ever had for you.”He breathed raggedly in your ear, his talons scraping your scalp. “I can't eat. I can't sleep, I can't control myself because of you. Control was the only thing I had left. I should give a shit about losing it but I don't. I can't. You're mine. Only mine. Got it? Any other guy even thinks about looking at you I'll put a bullet between their eyes.” His strained husky whispered taunts made your whole body shudder. You lolled your head back as he kissed and bit down your neck.

This honestly felt like a special event. Like a christening of sorts. Well, christening wasn't really the right word to use considering how filthy you both were.

“Oh, is that right.”

“My property.” He groaned raggedly. The way that word settled on his tongue made you melt, it was like he was made to say that to you.

“Your property? Even though you aren't actually mine and I'm not actually yours?”

The words slipped from your tongue, sending a sour note splattering through you. Why did you even say that? It didn't matter. Well, it didn't matter for now. Maybe it will soon. Miguel was a little stunned by it and he didn't want to think about it either, his stomach flipped and fluttered but he didn't even let a second pass before he suppressed the feeling

“No one else will see me this way. Only you.” He hoped that was enough.

You unhinged your trembling jaw to say something but then you heard a loud bang. You and Miguel both stopped in your tracks and turned your head like antelopes after grazing. You yelped at what you saw at the doorway. It was Peter and he finally got the door open. Miguel's face dropped to an anxious frown, embarrassment radiating off of him at Peter walking in on a scene like this. You immediately crossed your arms and contorted your body away so that he couldn't see the fact that you were topless. “Peter, what the fuck?!” Miguel bellowed.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Peter covered his eyes with his palm, slightly flustered at what he had just witnessed. “What the hell? I thought you guys would've been done by now. I locked the door like half an hour ago! That's more than enough time for you both to finally have the balls to fuck each other.”Alarm bells started ringing in both of your heads, he was the one that purposefully locked the door. What the hell was he thinking? He didn't understand how dangerous it was. Peter walked away as if he didn't see anything, leaving you and Miguel alone together in silence.

Miguel suddenly snapped back into reality, letting go of this mindless fantasy that tethered him to the danger he tried so hard not to give into. His face fell into a frown. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't do. this. He couldn't have you no matter how much he wanted to. Miguel's mind was running rampant with so many possible scenarios that he may face if he gave in. He gave up too much to stop now. He needed to take into account his society, and his life's work. His mood darkened at the thought. He raked his hands through his hair, before giving you a vacant look, turning back to the normal snippy and angry Miguel everyone knows. It was like a switch was flipped inside of him- he turned back to cold and untrustworthy, looking at you like he didn't even know you.

You raised an eyebrow at his confusing change in demeanor. He shook his head and breathed out as if he was trying to shake the thought of you away from him. He needed to be smart about this, methodical. He couldn't leave you topless like this, your bikini was snapped in half and he most definitely didn't want any other guy ogling at you practically naked. He averted his gaze to show some form of respect and took off his compression shirt and handed it to you to wear and cover yourself up with. You just glared at him, scoffing at his confused actions. Miguel still didn't look at you when you shimmied it on and then as if by magic, he was drawn to stare at you again- in his shirt, ten sizes too big. For a second, Miguel eyed you like a lovesick fool.

Then, as usual, cold. He winced and then left you. Walking out of the bathroom, not even looking twice at you.

-

I DID IT AGAIN IM SORRY. (but if i tell you i have a suprise for you next chapter will u not hate me)

-

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[tayraedoll]

Mine for Eternity

Part two of Mine for the Taking

MDNI 18+

Part 1

TW: Alastor is his own warning, manipulation, pregnancy, birth(not an accurate portrayal- just enough detail for the story and that is it), swearing, oral (female receiving) hair pulling, p in v intercourse, nipple play, slight bondage, biting

If any portrayal of birth makes you uncomfortable feel free to skip from "Alastor ushered you over to the bed and with a snap of his fingers your medical team arrived in the room with you" to ""Congratulations! You have a daughter!", the midwife smiled down at you before going about her post-birth duties".

You have been warned.

Word Count: 3,792

Alastor paced outside your bathroom door rather impatiently. He ground his teeth in frustration, smile pulled tight across his face; he wanted to be in the bathroom with you but you had kicked him out. Why you wanted to keep him from sharing this moment with you he had no idea, but he relented to your request for privacy- he was a gentleman after all.

You never cycled back into estrus during the mating season. You should have cycled a couple more times like the other doe sinners. Your lack of repeated estrus could only mean one thing- you were pregnant, he bred you the first time around.

The buck was quite a prideful man; he was quite happy to continue fucking you to relieve his rut, chest puffed out that his job was done after the first round and now he was just having fun. He was absolutely over the moon that soon he would see your body swell with his offspring.

Now, it was two weeks passed the mating season and you have not menstruated, body holding onto the blood and tissues needed to nourish the growing fetus he knew was inside of you. Alastor all but skipped to the drugstore to purchase the pregnancy test normally only used by hellborns; but no one dared question The Radio Demon. His joyous mood was only dampened when you had barred his entry into your en suite with you. He wanted to witness the moment the test turned positive but you pleaded that you would be more comfortable alone and he did not want his darling doe to be uncomfortable in his presence.

The demon was by your side the moment you emerged from the en suite. He watched your face carefully, cataloging every emotion the flitted across it- wonder, apprehension, joy, nervousness- as you slowly handed the test over to him. Alastor barely had to look at it, immediately catching the two lines, his smile nearly split his face at the confirmation that his desired outcome came to fruition.

"I didn't even know that it was possible", you whispered, looking up at him timidly, nervous about his reaction to the news.

"Mon Cher, you are incredibly special. This is a sign that you were always meant to be mine", he cradled your face in his hands and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. No need to worry your pretty head with how he was directly responsible for this "miracle".

"How do we tell the others?", you ask as you lean into his tender embrace. You close your eyes as happy tears begin rolling down your cheeks. Alastor stooped forward to kiss those little drops away.

"Hmm, you just leave that to me My Dear. Your job is to remain happy and stress-free so our offspring can grow healthy and strong inside of you. I will take care of everything." He picked you up bridal-style and carried you over to your bed, climbing in gently and laying you across his chest as his claws ran gently down your back in a soothing manner. You hummed happily and snuggled into him, excitedly anticipating this next chapter of your afterlife.

The news was met with a myriad of reactions from the other hotel guests, the most common being shock and worry for you. Lucifer in particular reacted with utter disgust. Not at you or your baby of course, but at the father. If the deplorable cannibal wanted literal demonic spawn then fine- he could surely just conjure a shadow child for himself. Why did he have to bring you into it? Why did he have to take someone so gentle and sweet and corrupt their innocence in such a way? He knew Alastor must have done something to cause this, there was no way this just happened without a catalyst and he doubted very much that the cause was love. The devil nearly threw all his self-restraint aside and killed the red demon right then and there if Charlie had not stepped in.

Charlie was the most accepting of the situation. Although she was sad that your redemption was now an impossibility, she was excited about the baby. She was constantly gushing over you and telling you what a great mom you were going to be. The princess took it upon herself to plan your baby shower, putting together a small gathering with an adorable little deer theme. The napkins and balloons had little fawns on them, the cookies were pink and blue deer since you were waiting to find out the gender, and the gifts were wrapped in thick, brown paper to resemble tree trunks.

Alastor was an extremely doting father-to-be. True to his word, he literally took care of everything for you. He carefully kept track of your micro and macro nutrient intake, you were not allowed to consume anything that he did not make for you- the only exception being an occasional cookie from Niffty. A fight nearly broke out in the kitchen one day when Lucifer was making pancakes and had the audacity to try to give you one; once again the only reason blood was not shed was due to Charlie's intervention. He was at every doctor appointment, every ultrasound, and every test. Your medical team was the best Hell had to offer, you received only the best treatment due to fear of becoming guests on Alastor's radio broadcast if anything were to go wrong.

As your pregnancy progressed and your womb inflated, Alastor became more and more possessive protective. He loved the way your body changed, how it accommodated the life growing inside of it and prepared for delivery. He lovingly caressed the stretch marks that formed across your hips and waist with both his claws and lips. His large hands would wrap around you from behind and he'd ever so gently lift your baby bump and keep the weight supported in his hands to give your lower back and hips a moment of relief. The demon reminded you daily how breathtakingly beautiful you were, quickly extinguishing all your self-depreciating thoughts the moment they formed. Soft jazz would play every night as he'd lay with his ear on your belly, listening to the fetus within as he sang along to the gentle tune.

When summer arrived and your due date loomed near Alastor was on edge, scrupulously taking notes of your behaviors as he waited for signs of labor. You were not allowed out of his sight anymore, he had become your very own shadow. The day your breasts swelled with milk was the day he officially secluded you away in his room which was fine by you as you no longer had the energy to be around the others anymore. You sought out the safety and comfort only provided by your buck.

A few days later you became restless, constantly pacing around the bayou section of the room. Your belly was so swollen you were constantly uncomfortable no matter if you were sitting, standing, or laying down. Alastor offered you what comforts he could, but mainly stayed by your side as a silent observer. Finally, after what seemed like days of pacing around uncomfortably, contractions became regular and closer together. Alastor ushered you over to the bed and with a snap of his fingers your medical team arrived in the room with you.

"Alright Miss, it is time to push!", the little imp midwife told you. Alastor was by your side, your hand wrapped around his with crushing force although he did not show any signs of discomfort.

"You are doing so well", he murmured against your temple before looking back down to where your child was exiting your womb.

You grit your teeth as you began your push, hissing your breath out between them before slumping back down to the bed.

"Very good, just one more Miss, baby is nearly here!", the jovial little imp chirped at you. You took deep breaths and then pushed again, letting out a piercing battle cry as your body finally birthed your newborn. You fell back again, breathing heavily and sweat drenching every part of your body. You were slightly disoriented but you instantly perked up at the shrill cry of your fawn. Before long your newborn was placed on your bare chest as tears of pure joy cascaded down your cheeks. She was the spitting image of her father, the same vibrant red and black features. Though she had your large, innocent doe eyes.

"Congratulations! You have a daughter!", the midwife smiled down at you before going about her post-birth duties.

Alastor leaned down to kiss your sweaty temple once more, "I am so proud of you Mon Cher. She is absolutely perfect!" He lovingly ran the back of a finger up and down your infant's back, cooing softly at her. "What shall we call her?"

You really were not in a state of mind to think about names at the moment. You sighed softly, "Any names that you like?"

The demon hummed thoughtfully,"What about Bessie Marie? Bessie Smith was the top female vocalist in my life, she made quite the impression on me. The number one baby girl name of my time was Mary, but Marie rolls off the tongue much easier don't you think?"

You mulled it over, getting a feel for the name on your tongue, "Bessie Marie Hartfelt. I love it! Hi baby Bessie, I love you so incredibly much." you murmured into your daughter's ears.

"Get some rest Mon Cher. I'll keep watch.", Alastor whispered softly, taking Bessie and cradling her protectively in his arms. You snuggled against him, succumbing quickly to a much-needed sleep. Alastor vigilantly watched over you both, Bessie never leaving his arms all night, smiling sweetly down at his little family. It was the first night of many that he would spend feeling like he was as close to heaven as he would ever be.

Bessie quickly became the universal favorite resident of the hotel. She definitely inherited her father's charm, but hers was more innocent and sweet thanks to your influence. Even Husk and Lucifer were not immune to her allure, Husk actually cracking a smile at her and Lucifer's own daddy instincts kicking in much to Alastor's displeasure. Charlie was always at the ready to babysit if you and Alastor wanted a night to yourselves. The little fawn had everyone wrapped around her finger as soon as they met her.

Alastor's existence had never felt more fulfilling than when he became a father. Not when he first became a radio host, not when he became a murderer, not even when he became an Overlord, all of those milestones were overshadowed when he became a father. Bessie was everything to him, he knew he would set the world ablaze if she asked him to. The buck was involved completely in his daughter's upbringing, not a man happy to take a backseat in any way. He changed diapers, fed and burped her, and played with her every chance he got. As she got older, he happily joined tea parties and dressed up as all Bessie's favorite book characters (television and movies were strictly forbidden).

As Bessie left the infant stage and became a toddler, Alastor started to feel like that hole in his heart cracked open again, like something was missing. This confused the demon at first, why had this feeling returned when it had been sated for so long? He found himself staring down at his young daughter as she slept in her bed, reminiscing her newborn days, when the answer washed over him. He wanted another baby. Family's had an average of 3-5 children when he was alive, he suspected he would want at least that many.

You had not come into estrus the mating season after Bessie was born for you already had a young fawn you needed to take care of. But surely your body would be ready to come into heat again this season. As Alastor sat there thinking of your pregnant body; how your womb and breasts swelled, hips widened, your total dependency on him, all thoughts that made his cock stir in his pants. Yes, his mind was made up- he would breed you again this year so that you will give him another heir. He'd make that a part of your deal- his protection of you in exchange for as large of a family as he wanted; a pregnancy every other year until he was satisfied. He knew better than to set a required number of fawns- deer were prone to having twins. A required number of pregnancies was more beneficial for him to gain as many children as possible.

That fall, the buck waited patiently for your body to respond to the season as he knew it would. You were still largely in the dark about your heat, only ever experiencing it once two years ago. Your early signs of estrus were slightly different than they were the first time around due to already having a young fawn. Much like Alastor, your earliest sign was the longing for your babe to be so new to the world again. You got emotional, crying silently as you went through Bessie's newborn clothes and toys, clutching them to your chest as you willed time to slow down. Your sweet scent rapidly spiked with your emotional state, alerting Alastor to your hormonal plight.

"Oh my, whatever has you in such low spirits Mon Cher?", he cooed at you as he walked over to where you were on the bed, Bessie's baby items strewn all around you.

"She's just getting so big! Before we know it she will be all grown up and she won't need us anymore.", you sniffed, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. He hands you a cup of tea, which you gratefully take and sip eagerly from, letting the warm liquid soothe your inner turmoil.

Alastor's smile softened as his thumb gently wiped your tears away, "Such is the natural way of things My Dear. But you know, we can try for another...gift our little Bessie with a sibling", he sat behind you as he started massaging your hunched shoulders, his voice lowering to a barely audible whisper in your ear.

Your ears stood straight up as you gasped at his proposal, "Alastor, we have no idea if that is even possible! For all we know Bessie was a total fluke, a complete miracle!"

The Overlord hummed, 'a fluke-no, a miracle- yes, a miracle of his own making', he thought as he eyed your nearly empty cup of tea. He began placing wet, open-mouth kisses along your neck, brushing his cheeks against yours to mix your pheromones together, "Well, where is the harm in trying Darling? We could very well get lucky a second time."

"I am not sure I am ready for another one yet...", you mutter unconvincingly, without any authority in your voice as you stretch your neck out to give him easier access. Heat was pooling low in your belly, thighs rubbing together as he nipped at your tender flesh. His arms came around you to grab one of Bessie's old onesies, holding it up before you both.

"Oh but you make such as wonderful mother Mon Cher. It would be a tragedy to limit your affections to just one fawn", he gently placed the onesie in your lap over your womb, your own hands coming up to cradle it there. "But I suppose if you are not ready then I will not push the subject", he gave you one last peck on the cheek before abruptly standing up and walking away with his arms crossed behind his back, humming away as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Wait!", you called after him, a desperate edge to your voice, "You're right, there's no harm in trying..." you bit your bottom lip "for another baby", you whispered out.

The demon's eyes flashed in triumph, his grin sharpening slightly before he turned back to you, "Oh Darling, I just knew you'd see it my way!"

He was on you in a flash, pushing you down into the mattress as his scent overwhelmed you. All doubts that you wanted this instantly vanished from your mind as the rut fully took over. His lips captured your in a feverish kiss, immediately nipping down on your bottom lip and plunging his tongue down your throat when you gasped. He was everywhere, hands running along the entire length of your body, tongue massaging your throat, weight pinning you down completely; your entire world began and ended with Alastor.

He roughly palmed at your breasts through your shirt, "I cannot wait to see these engorged with milk again", he growled out. Before you could respond he grabbed each side of your shirt collar and ripped your shirt in half. Upon seeing your lack of bra he swiftly swooped down and captured a nipple in his mouth while his thumb swirled around the other eliciting a high-pitched keen from you. His free hand traveled down to your pants, slipping passed the waistband and lightly stroking your clit through for panties. "Your bosom was never more enticing than when it was feeding my young."

The buck traveled down your navel, nipping your sensitive skin to create raised welts signifying his ownership of your body. Your heart hammered away in your chest, his thumb pressing harder into your nub. As he traveled south he latched onto your waistband with his teeth, pulling your pants and panties down with his mouth. One hand went up to press on your hips while the other spread your lower lips to reveal your most intimate parts, soaking the sheets beneath you as your juices flowed out of you. Crimson painted your cheeks as you bit your lip, feeling more exposed than ever before. "Remember our rule Mon Cher?"

"Do not take my eyes off of you". you obediently recited.

"Good girl", he dove between your legs, running his nose along your slit and inhaling the scent of you in such an obscene display it would have made Val's movies look tame. His tongue licked a rough stripe up your sex before circling around your clit. His teeth lightly grazed your nub as he sucked it between his lips, two fingers pushing inside of you. You struggled to keep your eyes open, wanting so desperately to throw your head back, but you dutifully kept your eyes fixed on your mate like he asked you to. You whimpered as your thighs tensed, the coil in your abdomen tightening rapidly.

Alastor curled his fingers and pressed into that spongy spot inside you, creating black spots in your vision as you struggled to keep your eyes open. His sucking on your clit became so intense it bordered on painful; then, one precise nip of teeth on your sensitive nub later, the coil harshly snapped and you let out a strangled cry of his name as you completely came undone.

You felt like you were floating for a bit, only vaguely aware of the sound of Alastor undressing beside you. It wasn't until you felt his hands on your hips flipping you around that you fully came back to yourself. You were on your knees and forearms, ass high in the air and back arched deliciously as your buck positioned himself behind you. He leaned forward and wrapped your hair around one hand, pulling tight to keep your back in a low arch, chest brushing the mattress below you.

"You are going to look exquisite swollen with my seed again Mon Cher. Truly a sight to behold!", he nipped the skin of your shoulders. You whined as he sank inside you to the hilt, his free hand gripped your hip so hard it was sure to bruise, effectively keeping you in place. His first thrust was sharp and hard, his tip battering into your cervix making you cry out.

His pace rapidly picked up until he was hammering into your cunt, his pelvis angled in a way that his balls would slap into your clit with each thrust into you. The squelching that enveloped all sound in the room was downright pornographic mixing with your gasps and moans and Alastor's grunts. "I'm going to fill you to the brim, you are going to give me another fawn- hopefully two! I will do everything in my power to keep you pregnant for the majority of the next decade at least!"

You groaned loudly into the mattress, only half-absorbing what he was saying. At this moment, you were so preoccupied with your pleasure that you would have agreed to anything he asked for. His thrusts grew sloppy, his vice-like grip on your hair tightened impossibly more- the pain only adding to the euphoria you found yourself in. "Cum with me Darling! Milk me for every last drop!"

Your jaw dropped open in a silent scream as you did exactly what he told you to do. You felt the hot ropes of seed spray into your greedy womb, giving you a satisfying full feeling. All strength drained from you, but before you could slump forward a cold, smooth tentacle wrapped around your waist to hold you up. "Not quite yet Mon Cher, you need to stay up so that nothing leaks out."

Alastor slowly pulled out and let go of your hair, your neck finally getting some relief from being tightly held back. He started kissing up your spine, soothing the tension in your back. You stayed like that for a few minutes until the tentacle finally disappeared and Alastor wrapped you in his arms.

You laid there for awhile, enjoying how Alastor's claws caressed you from shoulder to waist before finally speaking, "Do you think it will work again?"

Alastor looked back over to your empty teacup on the table, letting out a chuckle, the dark undertone of which was not caught by you, "I have a good feeling about it, Mon Cher." You hummed happily and snuggled into him as you drifted off.

Alastor looked down at you for awhile, so gentle and sweet, and oh so oblivious and naive. He adored that about you, how you were so ready to see the good in everyone that red flags never even registered in your mind. He wondered how long it would last- a decade? a century? perhaps an eternity? No matter, you were bound to him for the rest of your joint damnation together; and he would be sure to take advantage of every second of it.

After all, you only had forever- not long at all.

Thanks for reading!

@fandomgoddess05-blog

@littlebluefishtail

@cryssyd

@michi-keinz

@fairyv-ice

[wandagcre]

What do you think abt Sam (non g!p) has the first time with her gf and she cums first (and gets very embarrassed afterwards, cuz she didn't even need to be touched for that!)

first time | sam carpenter 🔞

(Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

Sam never understood the clichés of firsts, until you – the only one that mattered.

WARNING: make out session, fingering, first time - set in Scream universe | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 1.1k Note: the softest smut i have written yet ahh enjoy! <3

"Fuck," Sam gasped, breathless as you were. "You feel- it's blowing my mind..." she tilts her head and slips in her tongue.

A small smile escaped your lips, knowing how the woman couldn't compose her words properly at your intense make out sessions as this. you let her in, finding her eagerness adorable. The soft rubs of your thumb on her nape only reeled Sam further to your touch. She takes off your top and the hunger in her motion made you arch your neck.

You slow down a little and Sam is tad confused but it doesn't stop her. Her own lips chased yours as you pull away and it didn't faze Sam, who continued caressing her hands onto your bare torso.

You and Sam had barely left one another enough for your lips to become numbed with the well-known dance that has been going on for minutes now. Her eyelids fluttering as she's wrapped in a dazed sensation – the rustling of your limbs against each other and touching and seeing you – has left the entirety of Sam scorching hot.

"Baby, baby," you moan in muted tone. The pit of fire in Sam’s stomach continues to burn, although she finally looks at you in concern.

"Are you okay? we can stop anytime,"

The tenderness is palpable on her doe eyes. You can't resist but run a finger softly on those hooded eyelids.

"Funny how i was going to ask you the same thing. You beat me to it," you say with a crooked smile. Your hands loosely wrapped around her waist and somehow, Sam’s body reacted too enthusiastically, and it made her hips buck onto your front. "Someone's excited."

"I can't help it, you know that too well, querida..."

"And I can definitely attest to that." An inevitable grin breaks out of Sam’s pretty face. It's so easy with you. "I’m all in, baby."

"I am, too. all in. I love you," Sam murmured as if she was in a daydream, stroking your cheek.

Sam drinks the appearance that beholds her. Your skin so soft and delectable, that she failed to keep her hands off you. The creases in your face with your gentle smile. Your soul that welcomed her without a hint of prejudice; paired with your eyes that relayed nothing but acceptance and love.

How Sam got lucky with you is lost on her.

Sam pulled you in once again, the softness gritting into a deplore of conviction; wanting to express how much you mean to her – cheesily enough, you are her world now.

Unfortunately, it also meant she had grown ridiculously damp. a stretch of her lower limb would make it seep much worse. She feels the electric coursing through her veins, prickling soundly onto her sensitive areas. She feels bare and vulnerable in all forms, you didn't even have to touch her that much for her to come undone.

It was mind blowing how Sam haven't thirsted this much to her previous partners before. Even with your limbs intertwined and skins grazing upon another, it simply wasn't enough. Sam is constantly chasing for more.

"I want to have you first," you breathed softly on Sam’s ears to her surprise, making her temperature rise even more. "Please, let go for me, Sammy. I promise to take care of you."

You look at her with glossy eyes, filled with devotion. How can Sam ever say no to you?

She nods with no reluctance to your glee. Oh god, this is happening. Sam feels your fingertips along her abdomen, touch so incandescent, that it made her muscles contract, as it makes its way further down to your goal.

When the heel of your palm laid on her lower stomach, fingers stretching in to go underneath her underwear, Sam felt herself vividly ooze a palpable amount of wetness that made her heave out of breath – thigh muscles spasming that she can barely move.

She rasped a moan as she laid her forehead on your shoulder.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" your eyes went wide in concern.

She weakly laughed. "Yeah, yes. Shit i think– this is unreal. I just came. I surely just felt it," she retracts her hold around you to cover her face in embarrassment. "Now I feel ridiculous. that- that wasn't supposed to happen,"

You looked at Sam bewildered at the news she had dropped.

"Baby, no, no. look at me," you shook her by the shoulder gently and cradled her face. "That's nothing to be shy of. If anything, I’m happy to make something as sex not only pleasurable by means of aggressive throes of lust, but comfortably mind-blowing to you."

It took a while for your words to sink in for Sam. She bit her lip, nodding in agreement. Sam looks at you straight in the eye. All she saw was comfort. Safety. Love. All of which resounded strongly when it comes to you. Slowly, the feel of embarrassment ebb out of her system.

This wasn’t a quick fuck, nor a casual thing. You weren’t cheeky and condescending as the other men she had encountered.

Sam felt like she mattered for once – as though she wasn’t a meat or a conquest.

The thought wasn’t lost on you as Sam looked at you in wonder and it breaks your heart. You decide to grasp her hand and place gentle kisses on her knuckles. The same hands that have gone through unimaginable violence, yet it’s gentle and slightly trembling in your hold.

"Thank you, mi querida."

The kissing resumed as your fingers also continued making its way to the depths of Sam’s crevice. The pad of your fingers that she ushered for you to rub harder had sent her on the edge. The soft gasps of excitement and pleasure, Sam couldn't take it.

Every touch had her entirety reeling, as though you had her absolved all her sins. Nothing else mattered.

"Listen to me, you're doing great. You look... beautiful."

Albeit it came rarely, Sam was somewhat desensitized to praises. But yours were raw and innocent. Sam feels her heart thumping louder than ever.

"Always a charmer,"

From there, she cants her pelvis closer to you, rocking her hips to the newfound rhythm – riding your fingers. All Sam can think about was your name. She met your thrusts and each time, you never failed to give her praise. I love you, I love you, I love you -- you confess, akin to worshipping a deity. The open mouthed kisses on her sternum and chest that you spread all over her, has made Sam's head spin. You simply understood how vulnerable and hard it was for the woman to let go. Sam swore she felt heaven – it made her surrender all her strength completely under your touch. She has never known a safer place as yours.

Wet enough she was, and this time both of you couldn't hold back your smiles, complemented by neediness, as you make love for the first time.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[allthesmutl0vers]

Hi! I have a request if you accept.

George and the reader have been dating (sort of secretly) for a while now. The reader is someone who falls outside the typical, generic Slytherin image. She is kind and calm (well, mostly). Until some of her rude bully friends started messing with George, his family and this 'blood traitor' thing about the Weasley name. This is a definite turning point. The reader definitely proves to everyone that she is truly a Slytherin. She shows her scary and cruel side to those who deserve it. From now on, no one will mess with the ones she loves, she can do anything for the guy she loves. Possessive and protective. George's jaw drops... and after all this they may need to find some privacy.

Oo! I love this idea!!😃 Thank you so much for sending it to me 💗Let me see what I can do. Sorry this took me a day to get to, love.

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 🫶

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,959

Summary: Nobody in Slytherin could ever imagine being caught dead with someone from another house, let alone from Gryffindor. Nobody but you, at least. You've always kept to yourself, especially when it comes to your relationship with a certain Weasley twin. Everyone, including even your friends, wonders how you ended up in Slytherin. When those same friends go too far with their deplorable insults, you decide to show them exactly why you were sorted into Slytherin.

TW: Bullying, Name calling, Violence, Smut (P! in V! -You're on birth control), Oral (F! Receiving), Praise, Possessive!George, Protective!George, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Breeding adjacent?- Not sure about this last tw, lmk in the comments if that's what it is.

Song Inspo: Click here (River: Bishop Briggs)

"I'm just saying, this school has gone to the dogs," Pansy huffs. "I mean, seriously, how could Dumbledore think having a werewolf as a professor is a good idea?"

"It was last year, Pansy. Get over it," I mutter as I try to focus on my book. She's nice enough, but I swear to Merlin, she can never just sit in silence. And when she can't think of anything to talk about, she somehow finds a way to talk shit about someone else.

"Didn't peg you for a half-breed sympathizer," pansy quips, leaning back on her hands as we sit in the courtyard.

I roll my eyes, cursing myself for saying anything at all. Because now I'm sucked into a conversation I never wanted to be a part of. "I could say the same thing to you. Isn't your family currently harboring Greyback?" I ask with a raised brow over my book.

"Hush up about that, will you?" Pansy asks as she looks around the courtyard in a panic. "Nobody is supposed to know."

I do my best to ignore her, trying to go back to my book. But when I see George Weasley come into the courtyard with his twins and a band of Gryffindors, and a mix of the other two houses, I can't pull my eyes away.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket. It lights up like a sparkler, and he begins to toss it back and forth with Fred while the others around them 'oo' and 'ahh.' Probably the Whiz-Bangs he was telling me about in our last little rendezvous in the room of requirement, a new invention that they've been working on. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, biting the corner of his lower lip as he catches it again.

I smile back, wishing more than anything that I could just go up and be with him publicly. George has mentioned wanting to go public with our relationship, but being a Slytherin princess makes it a little more than difficult.

Going back generations, all of my family has been sorted into Slytherin. And although my parents are a little more progressive than most Slytherin alumni, they've made it clear how they feel about me dating outside of my house.

"Ugh, look them over there. Tossing around that garbage," Pansy huffs, annoyed.

Before I can say anything, she's already up and walking over with Daphne Greengrass. Shit. I stand up, too, and walk behind them as we approach the small circle that has started to form around Fred and George. "Hey!" Pansy shouts, shoving her way through.

Fred and George look between me and Pansy with confused looks and a knot of nerves forms deep in my stomach. "What do you want, Parkinson?" Fred bites back.

"Surprised you managed to slither your way out of the dungeon," George adds with a smirk.

Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. "How dare you talk to me like that," she spits at them with a venom-laced tone. "I'm just shocked you managed to actually make something. Aren't you failing nearly everything? What's up? Weasley's can't afford a tutor?" She quips.

My fists clench at my sides. It's not fair to blame the children for parents not making more money. Especially when they're the kindest people in the world. I watch George's jaw tick with annoyance. "Better than sucking dick to get a good grade. Or were you on your knees in front of Snape for another reason?" George fires back.

I purse my lips to keep myself from smiling. Nobody is supposed to know that except for me, but the look on Pansy's face makes it well worth telling George about.

Pansy's face turns bright red as everyone around us gasps and starts whispering among themselves. "Shut up," she seethes with anger. She turns to me, and I see her nostrils flare. She knows I had to be the one who told him. "How fucking dare you?" She spits at me. "You promised not to tell anyone. And you tell that filthy fucking blood traitor?!" She practically screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I look over at George, who is already drawing his wand. I shake my head softly before turning back to Pansy. "Actually, he just guessed. You just outed yourself," I quip, taking a step closer to her. "And don't fucking talk about him like that," I snap at her.

"You're defending him?!" She gasps, pointing to George. "You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Have some fucking class," she says with disgust. "Talking with blood traitors," she shakes her head. "What would your parents say?"

Everyone around us falls silent. I've never talked this much. Most of these people have probably never heard me talk at all. "You're one to talk about class, Parkinson," I step closer to her. "Your family is so fucking inbred it's a miracle you're even able to write your name."

Pansy begins to shake with anger as she draws her wand, and I draw mine, too, holding it at my side. "You disgust me. The fact you can call yourself a Slytherin with that filthy mud-blood of a mother is beyond me," she snaps. "And defending a blood traitor to top it off?" She scoffs with disgust.

I grip my wand tight. "Say blood traitor one more time, and I'll remind you just how much of a Slytherin I am."

Pansy clenches her jaw before she opens her mouth. "Blood-"

"Flipendo!" I flick my wand, throwing Pansy back five feet and making her land on her ass. Everyone laughs, including Fred and George.

Pansy stands up in a hurry, brushing off her skit as she aims her wand at me. "Locomotor Wibbly!" she flicks her wand at me, casting the jelly-legs jinx.

George steps in front of me, dodging the jinx with a wave of his wand. "That's enough!" He yells, making everyone fall silent again. Fred and George don't yell in anger, so it catches everyone, myself included by surprise.

"I got it, Georgie," I say without looking at him as I move to stand in front of him. "Levicorpus!" I jinx Pansy, holding her up in the air by her ankles with a dangle of my wand. She screams, frantically trying to cover herself with her skirt. "Had enough?" I ask her with a bite in my tone.

"Let me down!" She screams as everyone points and laughs at her granny panties. Don't try to jinx someone on laundry day.

"That doesn't sound like an apology," I taunt with a smirk as I turn, waving my wand and Pansy over the fountain, holding her a few inches above the water.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy screams as I feel George put a hand possessively on my waist.

"Don't apologize to me," I taunt, leaning into George's touch. Fuck what anyone says.

Pansy looks at George and Fred, who moves to stand at George's side. "I'm sorry!" She cries with tears falling as she hangs upside down over the fountain.

I smirk and pull my wand back, breaking the invisible rope that holds her upside down and she falls into the fountain with a splash. I walk over to the fountain, leaning over the side. "Don't ever let me hear you say shit about any of them again. Got it?" I spit at her as she drips with water.

Pansy nods without a word, sniffling back her tears. I let out a deep breath and turn to see the large crowd that gathered as I dueled with Pansy. "Show's over," I tell them all as I walk up to George.

"Damn, didn't know you had that in you," Fred jokes, running a hand through his red hair.

I huff a laugh. "You know what they say about the quiet ones," I smirk. "I couldn't let her stand there and talk shit about you guys or your family," I tell them both before turning to look up at George. "Let alone my boyfriend," I say softly, admitting what we are aloud for the first time.

George smiles wide and pulls me into his chest. "Finally ready to admit it, huh?" He chuckles, the vibration of it reverberating against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Maybe," I shrug and smile looking up into his eyes.

George bites his lip and leans down to my ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down my spine as he speaks softly in my ear. "As much as I would love to show you off right now, I need you."

My thighs clench at his words as he pulls back to look into my eyes. "Room of requirement?" I tease.

"That or I take you right here, show everyone who you belong to. But better decide quick, angel."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Room of requirement it is."

George leads me through the castle with his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and for the first time, I don't mind giving people a glimpse into my personal life. All of the whispers about George Weasley being with a Slytherin girl roll right off of my back. They don't matter. All that matters right now is getting to where we're going and George blowing my back out.

The door to the room of requirement opens and we walk inside to see the usual lay it that it knows we need.

A bed along the wall, with the silkiest sheets I have ever felt in my life, a small bathroom to clean up in, and a table with a chair. Not really sex up for sex. It appears to be for a student who needs their own room for the night. But it's perfect for what we need it for.

George kisses me as he walks me backward to the bed. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up by my thighs without missing a beat. George lays me back on the bed, my head landing on the pillow as he kneels between my thighs.

I moan as George kisses down my jaw, trailing kisses to the sweet spot behind my ear and down my neck, nipping and sucking the tender skin as the blood beneath his lips rushes through my veins.

George props himself up with one arm as his free hand slides up my thigh, gripping it tightly right at the apex. "I've waited so long to make you mine," he groans as my hands work to unbutton his pants between us.

"I was already yours," I breathe as I get his pants undone.

George's fingers slide my panties to the side as he runs his fingers through my folds, landing on my clit and eliciting a moan to leave my lips. "But now everyone knows you belong to me," he moans softly as I pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and pump it in my hand.

"My parents are going to lose their fucking minds," I moan when he inserts two fingers inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

George smirks and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. "Then you can stay with me and mine," he says like a promise. "Let them lose it, I'll be your shield."

I flip us over so I'm straddling his hips, grinding myself down on him. "Careful, Georgie. Or else I might start to think you're in love with me," I tease as I unbutton my shirt and toss it aside.

George sits up, his chest flush with mine as I straddle him. He reaches around me, kissing my chest as he removes my bra. "Would that be such a bad thing, angel?" George teases as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to suck, nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth.

My head falls back as my fingers run through his hair, pulling him back, and he releases my nipple with a 'pop.' "Only if you don't mean it," I moan softly.

George groans with pleasure. He removes the rest of our clothes with a flick of his wand and impales me on his hard, waiting cock, making me gasp loudly. "Does it feel like I mean it?" He growls, his hand wrapping around to the back of my hair and pulling my head back.

I lift myself up and thrust back down on him, taking him deep inside of me. "Fuck, yes," I moan.

George grips my hip with a bruising force as he works me on top of him. "Then say it. Say you love me," he demands in a husky voice.

"I love you," I moan as he releases his grip on my hair just enough for me to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I love you, George."

George moans as his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me down with him as he lays back and thrusts his hips into mine. "God, I love you, too," he moans. "Such a good girl for me," he groans as his free hand lands on my ass with a hard smack.

I gasp and moan as the sting slowly melts into pleasure, and he does it again. "Yes, George," I pant as he thrusts up into me with a brutal pace.

George flips us, removing his cock from me and diving between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders, and he holds my hips down, and his tongue lands on my clit. "Fuck!" I cry out as my hands grip his hair. "George!"

George uses his fingers to hold my folds apart, opening me up more for him, lapping at my clit with his whole tongue, and shaking his head, threatening to send me right over the edge. My legs clamp around his face, and he moans right onto my clit, adding vibration to top everything else off. The overstimulation is too much, and my fingers tug at his hair, desperate to be free and also not wanting him to stop what he's doing.

"G-G-George!" I cry out with a whimper as my legs start to shake around his head. "Please!"

George grips my thighs from underneath and pushes them up to my chest. "Don't interrupt my meal," he warns me with a dark gaze. "Now keep those fucking legs up."

I hold the metal bedframe above my head with a white-knuckled grip, and George keeps my legs pushed up to my chest. "You wanna cum, angel?" George teases me as he flicks my clit with an annoying soft touch with his tongue.

"Yes, George, please," I beg helplessly as my back arches.

"Then do it. Cum on my face like the good girl you are for me," he taunts before his tongue laps at my clit again. His words and his tongue send me over the edge. My toes curl, and my back and neck arch so far I'm scared they'll break, but I can't bring myself to care if they do.

After George rides me through my orgasm, he leans over me, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts into me harshly. "Fuck!" I moan loudly as he leans down to nip at my neck.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside of you," he moans as he holds my thighs. "Think you can cum for me again, angel?"

I shake my head. "I- I can't," I moan pathetically, already feeling another one build. I grips his wrists as his hands hold my thighs up to my chest.

"Mm, I think you can," he teases. He knows I can. He does this every time. It's a game to us, I tell him I can't cum again, and he drags another one out of me. He punctuates with another hard thrust, and I swear I can feel him in my guts with the angle he's fucking me. "Hands on the bedframe," he demands.

I reach above my head, gripping the metal bedframe again. "Such a good girl for me," George moans as he pulls my legs up to rest on his shoulders and leans down, forcing me to take him deeper. "Want me to fill you up, angel?" He teases.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" I moan loudly as he fucks me hard.

"Beg for it," George says sternly, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace.

I whimper underneath him, keeping my hands above my head. "Please, Georgie. Please fill me with your cum," I beg pathetically, the way he can make me.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg," George moans as his thrusts quicken again, slamming into me harder.

The tether inside of me begins to fray, ready to snap once again. "George, I'm gonna cum again," I pant with a moan as my eyes roll back.

One of George's hands grips the back of my neck. "Me too, angel. Eyes up, baby," he demands as his thrusts begin to stagger.

My hands leave the bedframe, gripping his arms as he thrusts into me again, and our orgasms hit at the same time. The room a symphony of moans, pants, and a mix of each other's names. Once we ride out our highs, George lays down next to me on the bed, letting out a heavy breath as he pulls me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the last class of the day, and fuck whatever consequences that come from us not being careful as we snuck in here together.

And a big 'fuck you' to my parents if they have anything negative to say when they hear about my relationship. They can get fucked, because I know I will be.

[literallyalbertcamus]

okay literally god bless you for writing about angus tully 🧎‍♀️

angus and reader have a “study date” but its just an excuse for mr tully to admire and try and make out with reader :3

(if you’re comfortable writing ofc 🫶)

Can’t Take My Eyes off You – Angus Tully.

(This is the first request for a headcanon i writte since i was twelve, a little short but i did my best. There where 910 words in spanish)

Going to the library that day had been his idea, you were stressed about a chemistry exam, twenty-five percent of your semester grade, which wouldn't have been much if it weren't for your normally deplorable grades in the subject. That's why Angus, being the attentive boyfriend that he is, proposed to help you study. So now there you were, probably the only two people besides the librarian in the building, at one of the back tables hidden behind shelves full of books, side by side with your books and notebooks open on the table.

You two had been in that situation for at least an hour, when you had finally begun to understand the subject matter so he leaned back in the seat with his arms crossed behind his head watching you write flash cards so as not to forget what you had struggled so hard to understand and what Angus had so patiently explained to you. Your hair was tied back but a lock of it fell over your forehead, you were wearing Angus' favorite mini skirt, a burgundy color that contrasted beautifully with your legs in his opinion, you were also wearing a new perfume your mother had given you that smelled exquisite, the last two buttons of your black blouse were undone and a third was threatening to come undone as you bent over to write on the flash cards. Practically a pleasure to look at in your opinion.

Sometimes it was hard for him to believe that you had agreed to be his girlfriend, and watching the sunlight fall on your face softly there in the library was one of those times.

“Do you have much left to write?” He asked you leaning over your shoulder.

“No, just three more cards” you muttered.

He stood in that position watching you write, your handwriting was curved and hurried, not very neat compared to his but he liked that, how authentic you were compared to his world and everything around him.

“Stop looking at me, i need to finish this”

At that he just smiled and moved closer to you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I like your perfume” he murmured into your neck and wrapped his arms around your torso, sometimes he liked to do that when you were together, just hug you and hide his face in your neck “ ‘s really nice... smells like candy”

Your fruity perfume represented exactly your scent in his personal opinion, completely sweet. The truth is that Angus absolutely adored everything about you, from your perfume to the way your hands fit his, or how good your lips felt against his, you were basically God in his eyes and could do no wrong.

“Enough! I need to finish this” you let out a giggle trying to get a little away from him to continue writing “come on, Angus I'm serious!”

“Nop, you’re just so sweet i want to eat you”

He began to spread little pecks down your neck, at first soft and not so close together, at first they caused you nothing but tickles and a slight blush because it was harmless, just his arms around you and his slender long fingers firm on your waist, so you managed to finish one of the cards, then when you leaned over to take another of the pink sheets of paper, Angus took the opportunity to move a little closer, and when you sat down the side of your back was on his chest now leaning towards your body.

“You're such a tease” you mumbled looking sideways at him, his smile bigger after your comment.

“Not my fault i have a total babe in my arms”

That made you stop writing and slowly turn around, his cheeks red as he tried not to start laughing.

“Oh my god! Stop it!”

“Only if you kiss me, doll”

Now the one who was red was you, trying to refocus on the sheet in front of you. Calling you nicknames like "doll" or "baby" had started after one afternoon at the pub where you two overheard a group of Barton boys talking about what girls liked, or at least what girls liked according to them, a group of teenage boys who had never interacted with a girl their age and who's only knowledge of the female body came from the hands of playboy.

You thought it was over when you were halfway through the important information, when you felt Angus' lips on your neck again, this time leaving wet kisses for every corner he had access to, you still weren't going to let him get away with it because that test was really important and you needed to learn that information at least until you finished it. That worked for a while until you were done with that card.

“Oh!”

That vicious bastard bitted you.

“Come on, you've learned all that already! Let me take care of you” he whimpered against your neck, his hands roaming your waist and what he could reach of your legs “You're so smart, there's no way you're going to fail that stupid test!”

“Well... maybe, maybe i can have a little break” you bargained, letting yourself be tempted by the kisses that trailed up from your collarbone to your cheek and down again “But! If you leave a hickey its over” you threatened him seriously as you turned around to drape your leg over his and sit nicely in his lap.

“Yes ma’am”

“Now stop teasing and kiss me right, pretty boy”

[afewfantasies]

Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - PRESENT - III

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader

Summary: You and Benny reconnect and learn a little about your lives here and now.

Warning: Allusions to troubled pasts and excessive alcoholism.

Word count: 2K

Heart racing, Benny drives the speed limit for once in his life. He prays against seeing any cops on the way to the cemetery. There was no time to wear anything aside from his colours to make the funeral, to see you. He didn’t know if there would be another chance to see you in person. After the reaction from the guys he wanted to see your transformation for himself. Approaching the gates he slows to a stop looking at the old cemetery gates, the vision of something from a horror film. Rows of wooden crosses and poorly made headstones. A final resting place for those who didn’t accumulate enough wealth to end their time in a nice place. A touch too nice of a final resting place for the man being buried but alas it wasn’t his choice to make. Getting off his bike he waits at the gates instead of causing a commotion. Looking across the flatland Benny finds a small congregation of people and hears a wailing woman. The people pass heading into cars shakily with a few men leaving you there looking onto the plot of dirt. Benny didn’t understand why you’d come all this way. Your father had been a monster and you knew that intimately. The cars clear out and the people disperse before Benny makes his way to your side. There are whispers and looks as he walks on the gravel road. He finds you looking down at the freshly tossed on the ground where your boogieman is being laid to rest. He knows it’s you because unlike everyone else you’re dressed to the nines. You smile knowing its him at the sight of worn boots next to your shoes. Nothing needs to be said, you rest your head on his shoulder and his hand finds yours instinctively.

“Good riddance” you mutter tossing the final carnation into his grave.

“Y/N?” The call comes from behind you. Letting go of Benny you turn to see the woman that sent for you. Your fathers new wife, the woman he decided to settle down with once the liver failure set in.

“We’re gonna head to the reception now.” Carla says looking Benny over with judgement and confusion. “Hello” she says only to get a nod from your oldest friend.

“Go on” you smile ignoring your grandmothers prying eyes along with everyone else who’d enabled your fathers deplorable behaviour making excuses for an abusive drunk.

“You came with us remember” Carla smiles.

“I know my way around” you mutter and reluctantly they leave before you take your first look at Benny. Smiling you see he’s grown out of the awkwardness and is even more gorgeous in person. He’s breathtaking. You throw yourself at him unable to contain your excitement and Benny catches you lifting you off the ground as he holds you tight spinning you around. You laugh and squeal like a kid again overwhelmed to see him alive and well.

“So you’re an outlaw now?” You smile pinching his cheek and pulling away to get a better look at him.

“Yeah” he smiles from ear to ear. There you are holding onto each others hands again like before your mothers ripped you a part.

“You look good in leather” you laugh touching his kutte.

“You just look good” Benny laughs and it’s a wonder he’s as gorgeous as he is.

“Thanks” you beam starry eyed, happy to have found him again all these years later. “It’s really you” you laugh and Benny nods as you hold onto his arms.

“And it’s you” he says kissing your forehead in a warm gesture. There’s another hug, this one less hyperactive but just as meaningful.

“So it was you who posted my bail?” Benny asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you lie but Benny knows better.

“What happened to our truth truce?” Benny asks bringing back fond memories.

“I saw you on TV and went down the the precinct,” you confess.

“Thank you, I’ll send you the money” he says far out of his depths.

“I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you. The money’s nothing” you respond holding his hand. Every good memory from your childhood is with Benny. And that’s worth way more to you than $250 you would’ve spent carelessly.

“So what you’re hit the lottery?” He asks.

“My Ma did. She’s married to an old guy who’s very well off. He has no daughters and always wanted one.” You explain.

“You married?” Benny asks.

“Will be next valentines day” you tell Benny but your smile doesn’t touch your eyes.

“He a good man?” Benny asks.

“Decent, comes from a good family and makes good money. He works a lot so I have a lot of freedom. It’s nice” you smile.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re in love” Benny comments as you arrive at his bike.

“Think any of them would love me if they knew I came from this?” You ask looking around at the dead end cemetery in a dead end town. “I don’t have the privilege of being delusional to how the world works Benny. Besides what would someone like me know about love?” you ask tickled. It was like old times so fast. 

“I thought that’s what women do all day, daydream about love and marriage” Benny shrugs and you scoff.

“Don’t think Benny” you laugh shaking your head as you look him over again. The pull to him is so magnetic. He smiles at your playful jab and you walk into his arms again.

“I don’t much” he confesses holding you tight. He kisses the top of your head taking in your perfume.

“I missed you Benny” you confess looking up at him.

“I missed you too. How long are you here?” Benny asks.

“A week, the folks brought me down here to run me dry and have me pay off the drunks depts” you explain.

Benny raises a brow,“Who’s he owe?”

“Couple of bars,” you shake your head at how nothing had changed.

“I’ll take care of it” Benny promises sitting on his bike. You look him over again and it makes you smile that he’s alright. You hug him again overwhelmed by how happy you are to see him.

“Benny, I’ve missed you so much.” You repeat his arms again, in your whole life there’d never been a person like Benny. He was your right hand, he always fought for you, stood with you, made you feel safe. Its something even riches can’t compare to. “Tell me everything!” Your excitement is contagious and Benny’s eyes sparkle.

“What about the reception?” He asks.

“I’m not going. I’m happy he’s dead - better off that way” you confess making Benny smile.

“How are you gonna ride in a dress?” Benny asks pointing to his bike. Rolling your eyes you get on making use of the length and space for your legs in the a line dress. When you're comfortable Benny tries withholding his smile as he gets on. “Don’t let go” he says challenging you.

He starts the engine and then tears off. Letting go you throw your hands off and scream out in excitement. The two of you had been kindreds and no stranger to living on the edge together. You have more to live for than the average person after spending your childhood terrified and powerless. Benny finds himself laughing at your bravery, admiring that you were fearless too or that you just trusted him. When you arrive at the clubhouse there are a slew of bikes parked out front. You're sure your hair is in a state and you manage to fix in Benny’s rearview mirrors. The guys whistle some more until Benny shoots them glares that says take it easy.

“Look who’s back” Johnny smiles.

“I’ve never been around so many degenerates,” you comment making the boys hush. You laugh at their sensitivity when they all get serious. “ You ought to show me how you really party!” you smile at Johnny encouraging the bad behaviour. The boys hoot and holler bringing on the drinks and debauchery. Billiards, darts, drinking games you name it they’re partaking with the exception of Johnny. Wild as they think they are, the boys have nothing on the party boys at college with the exception of metal and leather. You enjoy their company and the clubs camaraderie. They try to impress you but none of them could ever mean anything more than friendship to your heart. Benny watches as you embrace all of the Vandals, laughing and talking with them. Encouraging their drinking games, listening to their stories and not playing too precious. He watches from afar giving you space as you trow a few shots back. His heart grew warm seeing you smiling and carefree. On the outside no one would ever expect you’ve come from what you did. But you don’t rest on those laurels, embracing the good and disposing of the bottom. You have no airs and graces and Benny admires that. When the nights over you can barely walk in a straight line, for once - Benny’s as sober as a judge.

“Take my car” Johnny tells Benny tossing him the keys, knowing the back of a bike is unsafe for you right now. “You're a real treat Y/N, pleasure to meet you” Johnny says shaking your hand.

“Likewise and take care of Benny” you sway a little before getting in.

“We will, take care love” Johnny smirks shutting your door.

The minute the car pulls off the motion is too much and you hurl out the window.

“Drive!!!!” You shout between your retching. You don’t want the guys to see you weak. Benny drives until you can turn a corner and you’re finally finished. The consequences of your actions have wasted no time. Benny removes his leather and then takes off his t-shirt before using it to clean off your face and the back of your wrist with an amused smirk.

“First time drinking?” He asks as you sit on the curb.

“Like that, YEAH!” you confess and he chuckles having a seat beside you. If he’d been a dreamer even his dreams couldn’t have imagined you to be any better. Looking him over you see he’s got defined muscles now and an impressive frame.

“How are you feeling” he asks after sitting with you for a few minutes. Looking up at the streetlights you sigh deeply before looking back at Benny.

“Like I’ve been holding my breath for all these years and I can finally exhale” you confess. Taking your hand Benny kisses it with understanding eyes before pulling you in against his warm skin on the hot summer night. The slow steady beat of his heart, synced perfectly with yours is proof he knows exactly how you feel.

“Come on let’s get you back to the hotel” he mumbles getting up before he can help you. He gets the passenger door for you shutting it when you get in. The ride to the hotel feels too short and you sit in the car silent for a few moments before reaching for the door.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” You ask Benny.

“No” he shakes his head and you nod holding out a hand. He gets looks again as he holds your hand heading into the hotel’s fancy elevator. Your room is up high and he’s never seen a view like that. You open the fridge and get him a soda before calling room service to order burgers and dogs. Benny looks around feeling insecure as he sees your normal. He gets the food from the door while you freshen up from your sickness on the way. When you return without any make-up or finery his heart swells. 

“What?”

“You’re gorgeous” Benny compliments.

“Thanks, Benny” you smile having a fry. “Now tell me everything” you say again and he does. You talk about everything in your life until sunrise when you fall asleep together on the hotel rooms kingsized bed.

Authors Note: Thanks so much for reading🩵 🎆 ! Don't forget to comment, like and reblog.

FOR FUN what was your favorite moment? Mine was when Benny took the shirt off his back to clean you up. Thats a special king of love and closeness. Which one was your fav?

TAGS: @mrsalwayswrite @ughdontbeboring @astrogrande @palomavz @hrlzy

[noyzinerd]

More Than Just A Body (Swap)

Thinking about a post-body swap Sterek fic.

One that fully takes place after a body swap has already been reversed (like, a sequel to a non-existent fic--where they swapped bodies, had to live as the other, got switched back, yet didn't get together by the end--that's constantly alluded to, but we never actually get to read), so we only see the aftermath.

Derek is super irritated and snippy for days after they get back into their own bodies. Stiles thinks it's because Derek feels pissed and humiliated he had to relive to highschool with insufferable teenagers, be helplessly human and weak, and generally listen to authority again (his dad). It definitely bums Stiles out to think that Derek found living his life so deplorable that he's still angry about it. So now both of them are upset and sort of avoiding each other.

It isn't until two weeks later, when their stand-off is starting to effect pack business, that Stiles gets fed up and confronts Derek.

"What's your deal, man? You've been super shitty ever since we swapped back. It's been two weeks. How can you still be mad about living as me? What, was doing the dishes and being forced to write 5,000 words about the Louisiana Purchase seriously that terrible? Look, I'm sorry you had to deal with my stupid, tissue-paper body for so long, but you can't just-!"

And before you know it, Derek has him shoved up against a wall. He's still pissed, yeah, but, for some reason, he also looks...hurt and broken inside.

"Your body isn't stupid, Stiles! It was the best thing to happen to me in years!"

Stiles is stunned speechless. Derek's fingers are trembling around the grip he has in Stiles' shirt. There's so much pain in those green-blue eyes that it actually aches to look in them. It looks almost like grief.

Like Derek is in mourning.

Derek's not crying, but his eyes are definitely shinier as he continues, "You have no idea what you have, Stiles. What I had. For the first time since the worst fucking day of my life, I got to do normal things, like chores and sports. Not a single person expected anything of me o-or looked to me for answers. I didn't have to worry about fucking up and getting people killed, because the smartest guy I knew was taking care of my body like it was something precious. And all I had to do in return was live your beautiful, quiet life. A life where someone gently woke me up for school and nobody found me too intimidating to get close to.

"I got to know what it was like to be loved by a father again, Stiles! To say the words 'I love you, too, Dad' when I didn't think I'd ever get another chance. I-I got to be hugged and have people smile at me like they were glad to see me and I'd get to look in the mirror in the morning to the sweetest smile at the start of my day and hear your voice every time I talked. It was perfect." Somehow, Stiles has found his face streaked with tears even though the tears valiantly sticking to Derek's lashes still haven't fallen as his voice breaks over his words.

"A-and now? All I get to wake up to is me." The word is spit out with acid and venom. "I get to wake up alone in a cold, silent, empty, concrete room and look at a face in the mirror that makes me sick. I get to go back to my pathetic fucking life where I have to choose between literally fighting against an endless wave of people out to kill me or using my family's blood money to buy myself a microwavable dinner for the night. The only difference is that now...now I'm haunted by the feel of your fingers through my hair, your arms wrapped around me," at this, Stiles can feel his heart cracking apart at the thought of Derek using his body to simply hug himself, "y-your voice telling me that I'm going to be okay, and just-just the sight of your skin and your eyes and-and-I just, I can't, Stiles, I-I can't-!"

Stiles is clutching Derek so tight to him in an instant, tucking him into his neck and slowly lowering them to the ground as Derek collapses and sobs into him.

---

Once the tears are all dry, Stiles finally picks up the courage to be vulnerable too. He owes it to Derek.

At least it'll be easier now that he can't see the werewolf's reactions.

So, as he's stroking the other's hair, Stiles tells him about how he wishes Derek could see the man he fell in love with the way Stiles can.

He tells him about how he fell in love with a man whose heart is so big and full of kindness that he physically cannot stop himself from helping people, no matter how much he likes to pretend that he doesn't care.

The man he loves is powerful, resilient, and stronger than any one person has any right to be, yet so fragile as to be afraid of loving someone too much because he might be shattered.

The man Stiles loves is smart, sassy, thoughtful, stubborn, awkward, grumpy, sweet, and so so deserving of hugs and smiles and kisses and praise, because Derek is and has always been more than just a body.

Stiles tells him about how, during their swap, he made sure to take warm baths with nice smells, nap in cozy blankets, and massage his hands and feet with lotions because Stiles wanted to take care of Derek's body as much as he could while he got the chance. He did it because he wanted to help Derek and this was the only way he thought he could.

If there had been even the slightest indication that anything more would've been well received, Stiles would have already done it. All he wants is permission.

"Please...let me take care of you?"

---

So, slowly, day by day, Stiles enfolds Derek into a gentle life.

Stiles is Derek's strongest advocate, his extra set of hands to help carry his burdens, his pillow, his introduction to new things and new people.

They're always wrapped around each other, all the time, almost like Stiles is scared of Derek getting cold.

Despite the confession, things remain G-rated for a while. Cuddles, hand-holding, caresses, just touching. Shy kisses eventually make an appearance after some time, but they remain sweet, loving little things.

Stiles makes it perfectly clear that he's fine waiting to make a move until he's sure being intimate can't possibly be mistaken as anything else. He needs Derek to understand that this isn't obligation or pity. Stiles loves Derek. And Stiles is going to take his time because he wants Derek to feel loved beyond his body, no matter how long it takes.

By the time Derek feels whole again, now living with the Stilinskis and smiling softly as a default expression, they find themselves in front of the bathroom mirror having their first time together.

It's definitely not kinky. Mostly reverent, full of "It's okay, I'm right here", fingers laced tight together, flashing eyes, and a bit of emotional tears. It's gentle and assuring, with promises of never being alone again, and whispers of "so beautiful" and "so sweet" and "so perfect". Climax is rewarded with praises, hands stroking up arms and down backs, and "I love you"s are slurred through dropped fangs and traded back and forth between kisses

But as expected, finally having sex doesn't magically make Derek love himself. It's still a long road. Because even if Derek doesn't completely hate his life anymore, there are those hard days where he still has problems with 'being Derek'.

And maybe one day Derek will learn to love the body he lives in.

Until then, Stiles will just have to love it for him.

[voxsmistress]

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part Six

Now this went a completely different way to how I originally planned but I hope you like it - no Vee's in it but we do meet dear old Alastor who has a few things he would like to get off his chest! Plus you get to see why Y/n isn't just a regular sinner but a Demon in her own right!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

Stumbling up the flight of stairs to your door you were in a bit of a daze. Catching sight of a few cameras in the corner of the hallway you huff. Letting yourself into your flat you slam the door behind you.

Where the fuck was that bottle of whiskey?

What the fuck was that horrible buzzing noise? Growling under your breath you reach over to your night stand, knocking over the empty bottle of whiskey that you had decided to finish off last night to grab your phone which was making an unholy racket.

The fuck is someone phoning you at this ungodly hour for?

“Hello?” croaking into the phone you quickly clear it.

“Ah good morning my dear, how did you sleep?” The staticky voice on the other end could only belong to one Demon. Alastor. Groaning into your pillow you just knew you weren’t going to be able to go back to bed and sleep off this hangover.

“Alastor? It’s way too early for small talk – what do you want?” you grumble into the phone, rubbing your sore eyes.

“Delightful as always dear Y/n, we need to talk” at the change of tone in that last word all sleepiness left you.

“Ah okay, when would you like to meet?” his answering chuckle made a small twinge of fear run through your body.

“Now if you don’t mind, I suggest you get yourself up and ready I shall be waiting”. Before you could say anything else you were met with the cut off tone. He always was a cheery fellow in the morning. Makes you sick!

Dragging yourself up out of your warm bed you quickly threw yourself into the shower getting ready at the speed of light. Running back into your bedroom you style your hair up in a ponytail and do your usual make up consisting of eyeliner, mascara, and a bit of gloss. Eyeing your clothes you choose a pair of flared jeans, a tight black tank top, leather jacket and matching boots.

On the way out the door you make sure you have your phone, purse and keys before locking the door and making your way to the Hazbin Hotel where Alastor had his radio tower now.

Wishing the journey would take longer than it did you made it to the Hotel in record time, pushing open the front doors you could see no one was in the foyer – why would they as most of the population was only just getting up at this time. Following the familiar path to the radio station you come to the red door. Deep breath in and out you raise your hand and knock firmly.

“Come in” even through the door you could hear the Radio Demon clearly. Opening the door, you poke your head round to see him sat in his usual chair, microphone staff beside him as his fingers were clasped together underneath his chin. “Ah y/n kind of you to make it here so quickly on such short notice” his smile grows. His fingers motion to the other seat across from him. Crossing the short distance to the chair you couldn’t help but feel like you did when you were human and sent to the principals office.

Once you were settled in the chair, Alastor stood from his own. “I have come across a bit of information dearest y/n, a horrible rumour which has displeased me greatly and I believe we need to discuss it to make sure it is not true” throwing his hands around as he speaks, you keep an eye on his staff.

“Which is?”

“That you are now working with those deplorable Vee’s” those red eyes of his glared down, his yellow teeth fully on display with that smile of his. Gulping down the nerves you straighten your back.

“I am not working with the Vee’s, I am collaborating with Velvette where I am showing off her clothes and she is allowing me to sing at her Catwalk to help raise my profile as a singer” I reply to the Radio Demon.

“Ah then it seems the rumours are true. Shame. A real shame.” You had a horrible feeling you were about to be killed and eaten by the Radio Demon. You tried your hardest to control the flinch your body made when Alastor suddenly leaned forwards in front of you and static filled the room.

“Then it seems my dear our time as business partners has now come to an unfortunate end”, he stands back up fully his shadow encasing you, filling your bones with shivers.

“What because I am working with Velvette?” You questioned, standing from your own chair so to make a quick getaway if he decided to start attacking.

“Yes. It’s a conflict of interest you see my dear, it’s just not good business to work with people who are not your allies”, shocked you let out a choked laugh.

“Just because I am working with Velvette does not mean I am not your ally or friend Alastor; you and Vox may have this weird dick swinging contest going on between you but trust me when I say I am staying well out of that! I wouldn’t betray you!” You fold your arms and glare at him. 

“Hmm” his smile tightens, eyes narrowing at you. “Then perhaps for the time being, my dear, we call a halt on our business until you see the true side of those Vee’s”.

“The true side? Alastor I am not daft enough to think they want to be best buddies with me. I know there is an ulterior motive behind their actions”, you reasoned with him, nearly adding that he was hypocrite because he was doing exactly the same thing as they are. But you valued your undead life so you kept that little titbit to yourself.

“As long as you realise that young Y/n, I would hate to see you fall under their power” his gaze softened a little bit making it easier for you to breath. Hopefully he wasn’t contemplating killing you and eating your liver now.

“I do Alastor, but I understand why you’d like to halt our business. If that is all for now, I do have another appointment to head to”, you point to the door, nodding his head he moves towards it, opening it wide for you.

“Be careful y/n,” a wide smile directed at you as you pass him, saying goodbye you carry on down the stairs and through the hotel. What a weird conversation. But less stress. You had worried about working with both Velvette and Alastor – he was right in a way that it was a conflict of interest. At least this way you could focus on one – or three – Overlords at a time.

Travelling through Pentagram City you go over the conversation with Alastor in your head again and again. You didn’t think that he was still angry with you, after you had made it clear you weren’t going to go behind his back. Not that you would or could anyway you knew nothing about the Radio Demon anyway, and the things you did know wouldn’t do a lick of good to any one unless they wanted to know how Alastor liked his coffee.

Turning a corner you didn’t realise you had been followed the last few blocks until you were suddenly slammed up against a building by your throat. The FUCK?! Today was just not your day. Snarling at the shark-like sinner that was holding you, a knife was pushed against your neck. Feeling a pinch you just knew the bastard had cut you. Two other sinners stood behind him, laughing at you struggling to pull the idiot’s hand off your throat.

“Look guys. I ain’t interested in what you are selling and if you don’t let me go you are going to really fucking regret it. That I can promise you!” You choke out, clawing at the hand holding your throat. It was definitely going to bruise.

Sniggering at your comment one of the other sinners started running their hands up and down your body, groping your boobs and legs. Sucking in a large breath you waited until they attempted to shove their disgusting paws down your pants. Fuck no. Using all the breath you had you let loose a scream. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t just a standard scream. Letting go of you they groaned clutching their ears. Raising your pitch, you watched blood start to stream from between their fingers, from their noses and then their eyes. At their screams and begging you stop for a moment. Smirking at their cries and begging.

“Can you honestly tell me you’d have let me go without touching me if I begged like you now?” You ask, kneeling in front of the ‘leader’, his face was covered in his own blood which dripped onto the floor. “No answer? Say’s more than your words ever could”, you snarl. Breathing in deeply you watch as fear enter their eyes before you let out the highest pitched scream which you only reserved for special times. Like now.

Three heads all explode, one after the other. The only mishap was you were so very close to the splash zone. Groaning to yourself you wipe your cheek with your hand, covered in warm blood you grumble. Gross. Pulling out a pack of tissues from your dropped purse you quickly scrub where you saw had landed but there was no way of getting rid of all of it … biting your lip you decide to carry on walking to the Vee Tower. You did after all have an appointment.

taglist: @tasha-1994  @azullynxx  @reath-solia @leathesimp @klory22

[fatesundress]

⭑ made with love. draco malfoy x reader

summary. it's winter, you’re sick, and draco is extremely rational a terrible, doting mess about it.

tags. fluff! so much fluff! married couple, gn!reader, lots of banter, post-hogwarts with one fleeting mention of the war, draco's anxiety is whetted by a common cold, he basically treats the reader like they hung the moon in the sky and also have the power to yank it down at any given moment. he's very grumpy. but so so in love.

note. my sweet anons!! i tried on three separate occasions to write the requests in my inbox but sometimes i need to be in the depths of hell (ovulation week) to manage smut. i'm sorry. i've made some progress i swear! but the draco hyperfixation came out of NOWHERE and unfortunately i had to indulge in it. also thank you so much for 200! :’)

word count. 1.6k

You are deplorable.

With a fever temperature of 40° and explicit instructions to stay in bed, you’re discernibly not in bed when he makes it home from the apothecary, a jumbled mess of the blankets he’d swathed you in left in your place. Your slippers are absent. Your slippers — in two feet of snow. Your coat is gone too, at least; ridiculously thick and unnecessarily long, though now he’s thankful for it.

Draco paces. Then he sets the Pepperup Elixir over a flame at his desk to keep warm, pours two drops of Sleeping Draught into a mug for your tea, and paces again.

He should have insisted on binding rings for your wedding, he thinks. Something to trace you in emergencies. There’s little to do without them as you’ve evidently either taken the Floo or Apparated, and, in truth, he can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. In school, perhaps? During the war? You have him comparing his nerves over a bad cold to those he felt during war. The insanity of that is actually not lost on him, if that counts for anything.

But you are deplorable, and his. His almost as much as he is maddeningly, irremediably yours.

How he allowed an aliment like this to infect him goes against all evolutionary sense. It’s a fever of its own. Incurable despite knowing its cause, and probably festering worse than yours.

And then the fireplace hisses and out you stumble with soot on one cheek and frost on the other, the neck of your coat zipped up to swallow half of your face. In an arm shoved deep in your pocket, a bag swings from the puffy coat crease of your elbow, and Draco baulks. It’s a muggle grocery bag — translucent enough that he can see the square imprint of your favourite sleepy-time tea, a chocolate bar, cans of what he thinks are soup, and — a lemon? Yes. A big miserable lemon that you’ve deigned was worth almost killing yourself over.

Draco does not hear whatever excuses escape your chattering teeth as he plucks your hand from its pocket, puts the bag down, pulls off your coat while you slap at his hands and insist you can do it yourself, and only because he thinks you’d hex him to oblivion if he tried, leads you with a hand on your back to the bedroom rather than hauling you into his arms and carrying you.

“A lemon,” he says, and is aware by the severity of his tone he might as well be saying a gun, or a missile, or a milk crate of Living Death cartons. “You forayed into a snowstorm for a lemon. Do you think I’m incapable of reading a grocery list? I just Flooed —”

“I got more than a lemon,” you huff in a weak voice.

It is appalling that that’s what you take from his admonishment.

Your snow-soaked slippers are tossed aside as you tumble into bed. Draco bundles you in blankets and holds his wand out to take your vitals. You roll your eyes all the while, but once the cold wears off he’s sure you’ll be burning hotter than you were this morning.

He shakes his head. “Lemons are common stock in apothecaries, you know. The shavings are essential in Weedosoros antidotes.”

“Yes, but they’re always so dry.”

“And chocolate — they sell it at Téa’s across the street for the magizoologists. Did you know that?”

“Hmph. No Cadbury, though.”

“And I’ve already warmed the Pepperup and poured you Sleeping Draught, despite your urgency for this —” He pulls the box of tea from your grocery bag, impressed with an image of a little bear with a red nightcap, a steaming cuppa, and a plate of biscuits — “Inarguably superior muggle panacea —”

“I never claimed it was a panacea —”

“Of which we should have distributed to St. Mungo’s en masse. In fact, I should owl them now so they’re informed the Sleeping Draughts are ineffective by comparison —”

“You’re insufferable —”

“Imagine all the orphans without rest —”

“Actually ridiculous —”

“You’re ridiculous. And I hate this bear. Look at his hat. Bloody Gryffindor.”

“Do you know what the wizarding world is lacking? — If you’re concerned enough to make a donation, Mr Malfoy?”

You think it’s hilarious to call him that. He does well not to mention you are, by law, also a Malfoy, and his money is your money to donate as you please.

“What is that?”

“Soup,” you say. “Canned soup — canned with love.”

“We are lacking soup canned with love,” Draco repeats, just to be sure.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be sure to write the Minister.”

“Do.”

“Only if you stay in bed.”

“Hmmm… mmmm… well. Hm.”

“Incorrigible,” he mumbles, brushing the damp from your face before getting up to fix your tea. (He kisses your cheek for good measure, big sop that he is. You do well not to mention it.) “Don’t move or I’ll cast wards on the fireplace.”

“Oh! Cast wards on the doors, too. I might go for a walk.”

He glares at you from the archway. Your answering laugh is broken by a coughing fit, and you look reluctantly glum when he raises a told-you-so brow.

Draco mutters about how ridiculous you are through the kitchen and back, as he steeps your tea, heats your soup, unstoppers the Pepperup Elixir, pours it in an old shot glass from a trip to Italy (you have no graduated plastic cups lying around), squeezes the big stupid lemon in your tea, carries it all to your bed on a tray and realises, still muttering, that these are a lot of steps. But Draco balances the tray without an utterance of magic. It’s rather impressive. You should be sorely sorry.

You are, instead, asleep.

You’re splayed across the bed like something Baroque, limbs fascinatingly posed: half under the blankets and half stubbornly poking out despite his fervent tucking, head nuzzled into the pillow with a slight frown. If Draco were any better with a camera he’d take a picture. Instead he takes careful steps to your bedside, placing the tray on the nightstand and sitting as close as he can manage without disturbing the (once more, revolutionary) arrangement of your legs. It feels criminal to wake you. His fretful anger that you’d gone out in the cold is whittled to a humiliatingly thin and empty husk, and all that remains is mushy adoration. Damn you for that; you look ridiculous anyhow.

Draco kisses your cheek again. Your nose. Your forehead. He traces an invisible portrait of your face with his fingers, as if he’s ever drawn anything better than nasty stick figures on crumpled parchment in school. You, though, he thinks he knows well enough by memory to try.

You stir, not too far from consciousness that it’s a challenge to find it again, but far enough to be audibly vexed by his summons to the surface.

Draco means to berate you in that way he's so good at — chin pointed and scowl permanently etched — but you grumble with a sick, hoarse voice and he falters in a pathetic display. “You forgot your love-suffused muggle soup,” he whispers, one hand cupping your cheek.

“Ugh.”

“Heinous, I know. Sit up for me?”

“Magic word.”

There’s his scowl. “Alohomora.”

“Not that magic word.”

“Imperio.”

“Unforgivables, Draco Malfoy?”

“Hmm, Locomotor Wibbly?”

You sink further into the bed, pulling the uppermost blanket over your head inch by inch. 

“Please,” he says, with profound displeasure.

You sit up and smile.

Draco sighs and lays the legs of the tray out over your lap. You regard his service with sleepy content, one of your hands travelling to his face in what his heart surges to appreciate is an honest thanks after his several near-heart attacks, and then your gaze finds the medically expert Pepperup in an Italian shot glass and it falls.

You groan. “Draco…”

His name says, quite plainly, please don’t make me.

Draco has enough self-respect to at least deny you this. “Wards.”

That says, quite plainly, I was not joking about the fireplace.

You look as though you’re contemplating the severity of two horrors, but it passes fleetingly, with one curse under your breath and a sour expression as you down the shot of Pepperup like… a shot. Burning Ogden’s that scrunches your face up until you shake it away with a blagh noise. 

Come to think of it, Draco's choice of glass is much more appropriate than some medical cup.

“Better?”

You shudder. “I will be.”

“Good. Have your love soup and stupid lemons.”

And then, when he isn’t expecting it, your hot palm finds the place it left off; Draco’s healthily warm, sharp cheek, the soft fuzz of hair beside his ears before your fingers card through the longer strands and you hum like he’s your favourite thing to hold onto.

He melts, eyes fluttering shut. You’re sick, and wholeheartedly deplorable, but you’re safe, and it’ll be alright.

“Draco?”

“Mm.”

“The soup.”

He opens his eyes. “The soup?”

“You know it was canned with love.”

“I trust you wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.”

“And,” you say, thumb flush over his bottom lip as you smile a groggy, self-satisfied smile, “it was made with love, too, right?”

He rolls his eyes, and kisses you nonetheless. “You never cease to ask absurd questions.”