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Alright!! All three chapters are up so it's time for a bit more proper promo! Here is Fire and Stones, a character study centered around Bishop in time periods outside of canon. The first follows him in his early career, the second is set between the present and Fast Forward, and the third takes place after the events of Fast Forward. Please consider checking it out if that sounds like your thing!
#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2k3#Agent Bishop#Fast Forward#the turtles and dark turtles makes appearances too but they're admittedly brief#cody jones features quite a bit in chp 3 though!
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Nameday Celebration
Summary â© Call it recklessness or sheer stupidity, but Benjicot is determined not to miss his lovers namedayâŠEven if it means sneaking into enemy territory for the night
Warnings â© Smut, oral sex, established relationship, brief mention of violence, fingering, foul language
The music around you was loud, and though it was quite merry, it did nothing to lift your spirits as you sat at the high table.
All around you, you were surrounded by the happy chatter of other lords and ladies that had travelled from all over to be here. Some of them even shared the same last name as you did, Bracken. But even though the evening was filled with music and light, warmth and laughter from your family, you still feltâŠdisappointed.
You felt terrible, of course, sitting there in your fancy dress and feeling ungrateful at the ball that was thrown in your nameâbut you couldnât help it.
People had come from all over the Riverlands for you, uprooted their lives and paid good coin on gifts for you, but none of that was what you truly wanted.
Your father had gone through great lengths to throw you this ball, spending coin that he didnât have just to celebrate and maybe find you a suitable match.
By all means, it was supposed to be an amazing night in your life and yet you were so caught up in your feelings that you couldnât even find it in yourself to be thankful.
All over, you constantly spotted sigils from houses such as the Freys, the Mootons, and the Mallisters. Even the Tullyâs had made an effort to appear but none of those sigils were the ones that you wanted to see.
None of those sigils belonged to him.
Admittedly, you knew that you were a fool to ever think that heâd show up here. Your father would have sooner died than invite a Blackwood into his home, let alone have one around his daughter.
It was a feeble thought, and it was stupid of you to even be upset. Of course Benji would not show up your nameday celebration. You had known that ever since it was announced.
Your lover himself had told you that as much as he wanted to, there was just no way for him to celebrate your nameday with you. He sure as hell wasnât invited and it would be too risky and too bloody to just show up unannounced.
The chaos that would ensue if a band of Blackwoods showed up would ruin your nameday for certain. And as much as you wanted to see him, you understood that his absence was for the best.
Still though, the feeling of disappointment had its grip on you.
You tried to act normal and you tried to make it seem like you werenât utterly gutted, but you knew that your emotions had spilled out anyways. You were quiet and withdrawn, choosing to stay at the high table in the seat of honor rather than get up and dance with every one else.
You had chosen to sip on your wine rather than prance around with a man you didnât care about.
You knew it was petty, but if your father wanted to be petty as well and not invite the Blackwoods, then you vowed not dance with anyone other than Benji.
It was problematic, seeing you were the guest of honor and you had declined many lords already, but you held fast. Each and every man that came to your table was turned away, to the displeasure of your father.
His ulterior motives of trying to find you a husband were not as discreet as he thought them to be. Every time the word âno,â left your lips to a potential match, his lips pressed into a thinner and thinner line.
His patience with you was slowly running out.
Even though others might not have picked up on your sullen mood, he did. You were your fatherâs daughter after all. It was easy enough for him to tell that something was wrong, and whatever it was, he wasnât happy about it.
After making sure that the coast was clear and that was no one was listening, he leaned in and addressed you with distain in his voice.
âIs something the matter with the celebration, Y/N?â He asked tightly.
His eyes, similar to yours, bore into you from behind his mask. Curiosity along with annoyance could be seen pooling inside them.
The answer that you had been mentally rehearsing all night finally had its chance to slip out.
âNo father. Nothing is wrong with the celebration. Everything you have done for me is beautiful and much appreciated.â
Your father clenched his jaw as you took a sip of your wine, trying your best to avoid his heated stare.
âIs that so?â A small scoff left his lips. âThen why is it that you refuse to act the least bit of happy?â
You swallowed as your mind flickered to Benji. You were grateful that your mother had insisted on a masquerade ball, and that your mask was big enough to cover your face. If it didnât, you feared youâd give much more than you wanted to away.
âIâm notâŠunhappy, father,â A sigh left your lips as you looked to the dance floor. Your eyes lingered on all of the couples who got to dance freely. On all of the ladies that got to be with who they wanted to without it ending in a bloody civil war.
Involuntarily, envy pooled in your chest.
âIâm just..tired, thatâs all,â You continued, hoping your lie was enough.
It wasnât.
Another scoff could be heard from your father as his chair scraped. From beside you, on your left, your mother looked on worriedly as he hissed.
âTired? How can you be tired, daughter, when you have not even bothered to grace the dance floor?â
Silence was heard on your part as you swallowed again. You kept your eyes in front of you for fear that youâd say something to make him angrier. It wasnât your intentions to get into it with your family, not tonight, so you kept your eyes straight and your mouth shut.
You focused on the many people on the dance floor as your father simply shook his head, mumbling about how ungrateful his daughter was.
Your mother simply gave you a disappointed look, but you ignored them both as something caught your attention.
At first, you thought that you imagined it. A simple trick of the light perhaps, or maybe you just had too much wine, but you could have sworn that you saw a flash of black, accompanied by broad shoulders and wide, gleaming eyes.
Your gaze became locked onto the stranger that bared these traits, so familiar to you but so far away. With your heart hammering in your chest, you watched as he made his way onto the dance floor. You couldnât see him yet, not properly anyways. He was still hidden behind the horde of people all crowded together. Hiding behind the multitude of dancers and weaving in and out of the crowd.
It took all you had to keep your gaze on him and not look away. You couldnât lose him. Not until he got closer. Not until you were sure.
For now, you were stuck following his movements with care, watching as he came closer, and closer, until finallyâŠ
Your heart stopped.
You werenât sure if it was the wine or if you truly were hallucinating as your eyes locked with his, Benji coming to stand right in front of the high table. Beside him were two other men, all bare of any sigils and hidden under masks. But they were there. They wereâŠ
No, no.
It couldnât be. He wouldnât dare.
âŠWould he?
You started to doubt yourself. Telling yourself that there was no way that it could be him. It was too much of a risk. It was too dangerous for him to even consider such a thingâŠ
But then he began to smile. That damned smile that you would recognize anywhere, under a mask or not. That and his eyes. You knew those eyes. That wide-eyed, crazed stare that often sent your heartbeat racing through your chest.
You knew them like the back of your hand. And sure enough, as you stared into the crowd, looking directly into those eyes, he winked.
Your chair scraped immediately.
Without much warning you stood, shooting a quick mumble towards your father before racing down the steps and towards him with determination.
Your father, thankfully, was none the wiser as you rushed forward, nodding in approval as you reached Benji and looped your arm with his.
He thought you had simply come to your senses and was dancing with some lord.
He had no idea who you were moving towards the dance floor with and if he did, you were sure that the smile would be wiped right off his face.
Lord Bracken would start a war if he knew a Blackwood had snuck under his roof, but alas that was the last thing that you were worried about.
You were more concerned about your lover getting caught, the fool having the nerve to laugh as you dragged him through the crowd. The two men he had brought along with him tried to follow, but they quickly ended up getting lost.
It was almost impossible to navigate through all of the twirling bodies, but you made it your mission to weave through them, Benjiâs laughter getting lost under all of the noise. You were grateful that the masks at least concealed your true identities, allowing you to pull him along until no one else was around.
You managed to make it all the way to your room without getting stopped. As you did, you opened the door and all but threw Benji inside, making sure the door was locked before turning to your lover with a glare.
A wild gleam appeared in his eyes as he stared at you. It was obvious that he was more pleased than afraid as he grinned, crackling as he embraced you in his arms.
âBenji, Benji! Put me down!â
His laughter mixed in with your shouts of protests as Benji suddenly picked you up, spinning around in his arms.
The world suddenly went blurry for a moment as your lover twirled you, your eyes going in and out of focus. You felt dizzy whenever he finally let go of you, swaying a little bit until Benji steadied you.
When he did, you swore with everything inside of you were going to kill him.
âYou idiot! What the hell were you thinking?â
Benji smiled sheepishly as you turned your fiery gaze on him, a mix of concern and anger lacing your voice. Worriedly, you glanced to the door, afraid that someone would burst through and discover him even though you had locked it.
With little time to protest, you were swept into his arms again and pulled against him.
âI was thinking that couldnât help myself, my love. It is your nameday, and I had to see you,â He said softly, pressing his forehead to yours.
Instantly, some of your anger began to dissolve. You blamed not seeing him for weeks as the reason you began to fold so quickly, but some of your worry and panic still bled over.
âYou had to? Benji you could have been caught! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be here right now? If my father or the guards had discovered youââ
Benji cut you off with a loud laugh.
âYour guards are the sorriest cunts I have ever seen in my life,â He snorted. âI could have snuck an entire army into Stone Hedge and no one would have batted an eye.â
âHey!â
You playfully swatted his shoulder, giggling softly because you knew he was right. If your guards had done their jobs then Benji wouldnât be here right now. Alone in a room with their Lordâs daughter, staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes.
A million different things ran through your mind. Everything from terror at getting caught to just being plain excited that he was here flooded your veins. You kept looking over your shoulder, expecting your door to burst open any second while Benji continued to hold you.
It took a few seconds, but when you were sure that no one was coming to seize your lover and take him away, a smile broke out on your face and you quickly embraced him back.
You threw your arms around Benji and held him tight, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you laughed lightly.
âLeave it to you, Benjicot Blackwood, to risk death and torture just to wish me a happy nameday,â You whispered, feeling his chest rumble underneath you.
Benji shrugged. âAnd to give you this,â He said cheekily, pulling away. When he did, you saw him reach into his pocket for a second before slowly pulling something out.
You bit your lip as Benji handed you a box, a velvet box with the Blackwood sigil embroidered on top.
With a curious look, you opened it up and then gasped at what you saw inside.
âThis isâŠthis is for me?â You asked incredulously.
Benji nodded, grinning.
âOf course it is, love. Youâre the only Bracken I can give that to without loosing my head,â He teased slightly before continuing.
âDâyou like it though? I had to go four towns over, all the way to The Crag so people wouldnât ask questions. Figured it would have been strange if a Blackwood was caught asking someone to make a neckless with a Bracken sigil.â
The shyness that he sometimes was known for was evident on his face as he waited for your response, Benji nervously playing with his hands.
Luckily though, he didnât have to wait long. He sighed in relief as he saw you grin, pulling him into another bone crushing hug and kissing his cheek.
âBenjiâŠof course I love it,â You whispered in his ear, making him shiver. You could feel him relax underneath you, hugging you back as your eyes threatened to fill with tears.
âYou mean it?â He asked, a bit more vulnerability shining through.
Your heart filled with more love that you thought was capable.
âOf course I mean it. How could I not?â You asked him softly. âItâs beautiful, and I canât imagine it was easy for you to even have this made.â
You made a jest in order to keep yourself from crying.
Benji laughed lightly. âAye. It nearly killed me to spend coin on that ugly red stag, but I think the back of it makes up for it. Look.â
He gestured for you to flip the necklace over and when you did, you discovered that it was double-sided. On the front, the sigil of house Bracken was carved, unassuming to anyone who saw it. But on the backâŠ
You ran your fingers over the weirwood tree surrounded by ravens and lightly gasped. It was the sigil of House Blackwood, the symbol that belonged to the man you loved.
In tiny letters, barely visible unless you squinted, the initials B.B were engraved in one of the ravens.
Benjicot Blackwood.
âOh. Itâs beautiful Benji. Thank you,â You said again, your voice thick with emotion as you saw it. This time, you werenât able to keep the tears from your eyes, one of them falling down your cheek as you sniffled.
Gently, Benji reached to your face and wiped it away. He smiled lightly and gestured for you to turn around. Taking the necklace from your hands, he then unclasped it and gently placed it around your neck.
When he did, he flipped it so that the symbol of House Blackwood showed instead.
âThere. Just as it belongs,â He said.
Sniffling lightly, you allowed him to run his fingers over it, Benji placing soft kisses on your neck before turning you around.
When you did, you immediately planted your lips upon his, unable to resist it any longer.
You could tell that Benji was taken by surprise by the sudden action, but he quickly wasted no time in kissing you back. He matched the amount of passion in your kiss, greedily drinking in the taste of you after being starved for so long.
Not long after, what started as a soft, slow kiss turned into something more. The desperation that you both felt after not seeing each other for a while pooled over, and soon enough you found yourself tugging on his hair, wanting something more.
Benji clearly felt the same as he began to lead you towards the bed.
Gently, he laid you down on the soft covers and your heart pounded as he leaned over you.
Once more, his lips met yours in a swift kiss but this time it was accompanied by roaming hands.
You felt him touching you everywhere that he could, Benji feeling all of the parts that he missed.
His hands lingered on your waist and then your chest, fingers dancing over the material that covered your breasts. It was clear that just feeling you over your clothing wasnât enough. He wanted more, and so you werenât surprised when he broke the kiss, eyes hungry as he tugged on the yellow garb.
âTake this off,â He demanded softly, his dark eyes wild with lust.
Quickly, you sat up and with his assistance was able to get it off. Benji struggled a little bit when it came to your corset, resulting in your lover getting impatient.
Regrettably, this meant that you would have to explain to your Septa why the strings looked like they had been cut with a knife. A little annoyance pooled inside of you at the inconvenience, but you tried not to think about that as you stared at him, anxious to know what he wanted next.
âTurn around,â Benji then rasped, taking no time to drink in your naked body. âI want you on your knees, ass in the air.â
Despite his filthy words, his tone was oddly soft. Desire pooled in your core as you obediently listened, eager for whatever it was he had planned for you. You laid your head on your soft pillow, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the bed dip behind you.
You sighed as Benji kneeled in between your legs. In an instant, your felt his calloused hands roaming over your body, trailing all the way from the small of your back to the center of your core. Gently, his padded fingers traced your slick folds, eliciting a moan from you when they brushed over your clit.
âFuck, how Iâve missed this.â
You said nothing as his fingers continued to tease your clit, too busy panting at the sensation.
It had been too long, you noted, since you had felt your loversâ touch.
The more that tensions between your houses grew, the less time that you had to spend with Benji. It was too risky to be seen anywhere near Blackwood territory and your father had doubled the guards, making it nearly impossible to sneak out. Your meetings had been so few as of late, leaving you craving his touch like no other.
Eagerly, you wanted to take advantage of this opportunity, moaning when Benji sank a digit into your tight cunt. You cursed softly as he began to pump in and out, loving the way he curled them inside of you to reach your pleasure spots.
It seemed that your time apart did nothing to impact Benjiâs memory. He still remembered exactly how to make you come undone, adding more and more digits until your cunt was stuffed.
The more fingers that he added, the louder you moaned. Pleasure that you had not experienced in weeks quickly began to cloud your senses, making you forget that you were supposed to be quiet in case anyone overheard you.
You could only imagine the disaster that would ensue if Benjicot Blackwood was discovered knuckle-deep inside of Lord Brackenâs daughter. Making her come undone on his fingers, slowly but surely, and whispering the filthiest of words in her ear.
You imagined that the aftermath wouldnât be pretty, but alas all of those thoughts and worries faded away the minute you felt Benji kneel down, attaching his mouth to your cunt.
Any previous thoughts that you had were goneâreplaced by muffled moans and incoherent blabber.
You whimpered as you felt Benjiâs tongue lapping at your folds, eating your cunt like he was a man starved.
You felt him sucking on your clit, taking the bud into his mouth just as his index and middle finger curled against the right spot.
The combined pleasure had you gasping out, pillow forgotten as strangled cries left your lips.
Benji could feel your cunt tightening around his fingers and he smirked, coaxing you through your orgasm as you moaned and withered under him.
It took all he had to hold you down, using his free hand to keep your cunt firmly pressed against him. He refused to let up his assault until he could taste you on his tongue, the sweetness of your juices making him groan as well.
When he finally pulled away and released you from his hold, you managed to weakly look behind you and see him grinning. Benji licked his fingers, his face shiny with your arousal as he met your eyes.
âHmm. So fuckinâ sweet. You want to taste, raven?â
Meekly you nodded, your face and your core burning at the nickname. Benji smiled as he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips while he grinded into you.
You could feel his cock hard as stone poking against your thighs. The thought of him being inside of you after so long briefly made you loose the ability to breathe as excitement flooded your veins.
The action allowed for Benji to slip his tongue in your mouth, kissing you sloppily for a moment before reluctantly pulling away.
His wild eyes were dark with lust as he fiddled with his own clothing, loosening his trousers so that his cock could spring free.
You felt your mouth water as you watched him stroke himself for a moment, spurts of preseed dripping down the base.
Benji let a hand roam over your back and gently used it to push you down, spreading your legs so that he could settle in between them.
With your back arched and your face pressed firmly against the pillow once again, he teased you by dragging his cock along your folds and then, he pushed in.
Together, you both let out a whine as Benjiâs cock sank inside of you, your lover letting out a swear as you gripped him tight.
It had been a while since the two of you had sex, and it was evident in the way your legs trembled, your cunt straining to take him as he sank deeper.
You let out another whine, reaching behind you for something to grip. Luckily Benji seemed to get the message clear enough, and quickly he intertwined your fingers together.
Once he was buried inside of you to the hilt, he stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Light kisses were peppered against your back as he leaned over you, holding you as close as possible before his hips began to move.
In a slow rhythm, he dragged his cock in and out as if to savor the moment.
As his hips snapped against yours and sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, your moans slowly started to combine.
You had forgotten how much you missed this. You had forgotten how much you missed him. Loneliness was awful but often times it was easy to get accustomed to it. After all, itâs what you signed up for when you took a Blackwood for your lover.
You expected to go days, weeks, or even months without seeing Benji. So when he was here, you did all you could to savor him before he had to leave again.
Every breath, every groan, and every whisper of encouragement was committed to memory. Every touch, every kiss cherished.
You relished in the way Benjiâs cock felt against your walls, squeezing him as if it would somehow help you remember how it felt.
A small curse left his lips as you did, Benji leaning down to suck a love bite on your skin.
As his teeth grazed your neck, you groaned as he somehow managed to find both of your sweet spots.
âThatâs it. Thatâs it. Good girl. Good fuckinâ girl.â
Benji praised you as you began to fuck yourself on his cock, throwing your hips back and meeting his trusts. Your moans combined together as the pace sped up, the sound of heavy breathing quickly filling the room.
After a moment, you felt his weight shift off of your body as Benji opted to get back on his knees. He used his hands to keep your hips steady, pushing down on the small of your back to keep it arched.
With this new angle, he was able to drive into you quicker and repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Curses left his lips as you began to tremble around him, his own orgasm approaching at the same time as yours.
âFuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!â
You gripped the sheets tightly as obscenities left his mouth, feeling Benji quickly pull out of you just as your peak washed over you.
Hot spurts of his seed coated your back, Benji spilling himself onto your skin before finishing you off with his fingers.
The absence of his cock was most disappointing, but by the time you came down from your high you barely noticed.
You were too busy in a state of bliss, turning around to capture Benji in a kiss before shakily pulling away.
âAre you alright, my love?â He asked immediately, panting heavily as he collapsed next to you.
Sometimes, it amazed you how quickly he could change. One moment Benji was shy and sweet, giving you the most beautiful necklace for your nameday. And then the next he was making you cum, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear and fucking you so good that you saw stars.
Now, he had switched again, his soft side back on display as he held you in his arms.
He was careful enough not to cum inside of you andâmuch to your displeasureâhad used your fancy yellow dress to wipe up his seed.
You suspected that he was too pleased by the action, but you opted not to say anything about it. Instead, you merely disregarded the dress and chose to cuddle in his arms, trying to soak the last remaining moments you had.
âOf course Iâm alright. It is my nameday and Iâve just received the best gift of the night,â You replied after some pause.
You knew him well enough that you could practically hear the smirk appear on his face.
âWhat? The sex?â Benji asked cheekily, to which you playfully elbowed him.
âNo you fool!â You giggled as you knew that was exactly what he was going to say. âThe necklace! The necklace you risked life and limb to deliver to me personally!â
You rolled your eyes as Benji began to laugh behind you, the cheerful sound echoing through your chambers.
âRight, right. That is what I risked life and limb for,â He said innocently.
You didnât have the energy to do anything expect roll your eyes again. You swore he was so stupid sometimes. From sneaking into enemy territory to making silly little jests, your Benji sure was a character to be reckoned with.
But, that was exactly what you loved about him.
Sighing softly, you shook your head and listened to the sound of his breathing. It remained steady behind you as Benji slowly relaxed, settling in your bed like he was simply at home.
If you didnât know any better, youâd say that he was falling sleep. His body was certainly still enough to think so, but you knew as well as he did that he couldnât stay here.
The party downstairs was slowly dying down. If you listened close enough, you could hear the final songs planned for the night dwindling down, and you knew pretty soon someone was going to come for you.
Benji couldnât be here when they did.
Your father was probably already angry enough at your lack of presence. If he ever discovered the reason why you had so suddenly disappeared then he would have your headâBenjiâs too.
And as much you loved lying in his arms, feeling the warmth and the love radiating from his body, you loved seeing Benji alive much more.
So, sure enough, as the final notes on the final songs began to play, he stood up.
âWell, I suppose thatâs my cue to take leave, then.â
Benji smiled sadly as he began to gather his clothes, redressing while you watched him with despair. The sheets that were wrapped loosely around you began to fall as you stood as well, walking over to him just as he readjusted his dagger.
âDo you promise to come visit me soon?â You asked him anxiously.
Slowly, Benji began to nod. He knew as well as you did that soon was debatable. Tensions were at all time high as whispers of war breaking out in the Kingdom spread. They added to the already strained relations between your houses.
Still though, Benji could not bare to see your disappointment. He didnât want to leave on a bad note, either, so he settled for an unserious answer to ease the situation.
âIf your father doesnât replace his guards any time soon then Iâll be able to visit you any time youâd like,â He chuckled.
He was met by a small giggle that had his heart smiling with joy. Softly, you gripped his hand, savoring his touch as you knew that it would be the last time for a while.
âStay safe out there, Blackwood,â You told him softly. âDonât get into any trouble and for Sevenâs sake, leave the assize stones alone. Make sure that you come back to me, you hear?â
Your tone was playful, but he knew that you were being as serious as a dead man.
Briefly, his lips twitched a little as he fought the urge to tell you that it was your family that messes with the stones. But ultimately, he agreed.
âI will. I promise,â Benji said sincerely.
A soft kiss was then planted on your lips, you and Benji holding onto each other for one last time. When you pulled away, a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you watched him walk away.
Closing your eyes, you decided to count his footsteps until he reached the door.
When you got to ten, you heard the door open. And one last time, Benji called out to you.
âOh. And Bracken?â
âHmm?â
You opened your eyes to see that familiar goofy smile, his eyes shining as he looked at you.
âI almost forgot to tell you, but happy nameday, my love. I do hope that this was a good one,â Benji laughed.
And with that, he closed the door, leaving you smiling and shaking your head behind him.
That fool. What one earth am I going to do with you, Benjicot Blackwood?
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd x reader#hotd smut#benjicot blackwood x reader#benjicot blackwood smut#benjicot blackwood#jacaerys velaryon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader
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Emmrich is confident in himself and knows what he brings to a relationship. Doesn't seem himself as someone who experiences a great amount of angst when it comes to his appearance; he knows he takes care of himself, looks good, dresses well. The way he carries himself alone is, he's been told, a turn-on. Back straight, regal. Always seems to know what to do with his hands. He's got it locked down.
That said, he's a man in his fifties. Time marches ever on. He's been graying since he was a young man--time was kind enough to let him keep the thickness of his hair, if not the color. He remembers being young, ladies and gentlemen alike telling him that they considered his coif, inky black at the time and so stark again his pink-alabaster skin, to be one of his finer features. The color was all but gone by the time he was thirty. Time marches.
There are multiple things like this that he's aware of, as a man who monitors his own appearance to the extent that he does. Once one reaches a certain age, there is a certain softness of the belly that won't vanish for even the most active of individuals. He's watched his hands grow aged. His knees aren't what they used to be, though he takes potions for this and it doesn't affect his abilities. In the end, he knows he's aged gracefully, and continues to do so--but 'gracefully' and 'imperceptively' certainly have different definitions.
Enter Rook, who is not the youngest of their companions. Old enough to have confronted her own fears and come out on the other side knowing her desires--at least in some way. He knows he's desired by her. He's known since a particular look in her eye on their first excursion to the Memorial Gardens; an unmistakable, though brief, spark of want.
In that moment, he could have had her. If he'd known her then as he did now, and understood that she wasn't the sort of woman to be above a giggling fuck in a bush with an attractive acquaintance, he might have let himself have her. As it was, it had taken time. Their first night spent together had been sweeter for it. Not that the bush wouldn't have been sweet.
Admittedly, there had been one other item holding him back, other than that of her virtue. There are decades of time between them. She came screaming into the world around the time the first gray hairs poked themselves out of his skull, premature though it was. It's something to consider. He assumed at the time--and now knows--that she'd never had a lover much older than herself. Though Emmrich knows himself to be a perfectly capable lover, a quite attractive specimen of a fifty-hmm-shh year old man, he knows (and does all the time) that he can no longer reasonably be compared to the same standards as a person twenty years his junior.
It stayed his hand.
A hand which Rook, when given the slightest opening to do so, grabs and yanks and places exactly where she wants it.
"I love your hands," she says, tracing tendons and veins, places where time had taken some of the elasticity from his skin. "They're beautiful. Touch me. Maker, touch me."
It's praise that goes straight to his core. The hands aren't one of his greatest insecurities, but he feels at times like a warrior fighting a ceaseless battle against time when it comes to his skin. Creams for softness, oils for moisture, tonics to block sunlight on the occassion he did leave the shaded Necropolis halls. He marvels, still does, at the fact that she doesn't even seem to notice the imperfections that had seemed utterly unignorable to him.
Far more of an insecurity is, of course, the belly--which he knows to be healthy, normal and fine, but which he purposefully hides nonetheless. Davrin is young, an objectively attractive man, and can quite commonly be seen shirtless around the Lighthouse. Some comparisons can't help but be drawn.
Rook, of this evening, unwraps the sash from around his waist with the glee of a child on her nameday and slides her hands down the buttons of his shirt. She frees his body, soft stomach and all, and presses her nose directly to his navel.
"Your body," Rook sighs, ecstatic. "I think about it all the time. I swear, Emmrich, I'm losing my mind. Do you know how sexy you are?"
"A question I could pose in return," he chuckles, and they both know he's deflecting--at least a little.
She's not having it on this night. She crawls back up, rests the perfect softness of her ass directly on top of his straining erection. Pushes her hands into the steely hair sprinkled about his chest.
"You're so--" she sighs, then seems to get distracted, and spends a moment tracing her thumbs circuitously around his nipples. He hisses, twitching against her. "I've never been with someone I was so attracted to. That sounds bad. I was attracted to them. But you, I mean..." She descends on him, mouth open, and he cries out to feel her teeth sink into his chest.
"You're going to give me quite the ego, dearest," he tells her, once he's gotten a hold of himself--figuratively and literally. He's palming himself, fingers gripped around the fabric of his pants and his own straining flesh, and the back of his hand basks in the humidity between her thighs.
"Good," she coos, and then traces her thumb over his mustache, follows it with her lips. "You're so beautiful. I think about you all the time. Your hands and your nose and your fucking--chest hair--"
"It used to be black, you know," he whispers, and she draws back. They share his vulnerability for a moment. He can see her realize and catalogue something, in the back of her intelligent eyes.
"It looks better gray," she whispers back. "And when it turns white, I'll throw a fucking party."
He cries a little--something that surprises even him, because he hadn't realized how close to his chest he'd been holding some of this...dread--and even that doesn't seem to bother her. She coos and kisses him and, when he slides inside her, yowls and clings and calls him perfection.
He believes it.
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Since you mentioned this in an earlier ask, what is your take on feminist Leona? I see people saying things like "consent king" "he drinks his respect women juice" and "leona kingscholar says men ain't shit" but I think those are mainly jokes but I've also seen a lot of for example Leona x reader fanfics where he's a lot nicer to femme Yuus than masc ones. I don't play the game so I don't know how much of a feminist he really is, could you clarify and give your own insights? Ty Miss Raven!!!!!!!
[Referencing this post!]
Admittedly, I am guilty of having made âconsent kingâ jokes but thatâs mainly because I think consent + respecting othersâ autonomy is very sexy important and itâs slightly funny to have a 185 cm muscular anime cat boy championing the concept. However, I try to avoid making jokes which would imply Leona puts down his own gender or thinks lesser of them because 1) canon doesn't indicate this and 2) it can be hurtful to non-femme Twst fans. Yes, most of the fandom is women--but that doesn't mean we shouldn't make this fandom space welcoming for masculine or nonbinary Twst fans.
Let's delve into a brief history of where feminist!Leona comes from! After that, I'll discuss my own thoughts and feelings about it.
The idea first came into prominence because of an exchange that occurs in Cater's School Uniform vignette. In it, Cater is trying to convince Leona to join him for a party that he's throwing for Rosaria, one of the talking paintings at NRC. At first, Leona refuses--but he quickly changes his tune once Cater mentions Rosaria is a "she/her". Leona states, "Portrait or not, I respect ladies and Rosaria is a lady." Cater then whispers to Kalim (who is shocked that Leona suddenly agreed to come along), "Leona's kingdom is all about being respectful to ladies."
It should be noted that Leona says something slightly different in JP: âEven if itâs a portrait, a woman is a woman.â JP does not have the âI respect ladiesâ portion; âI respect ladiesâ was added to EN, which may have further amplified the interpretation that he is a feminist.
Now, as we learn from that vignette, the Sunset Savanna has a culture of "respecting women". In Leona's Ceremonial Robes vignette, he elaborates that, â[Beastwomen are] already way stronger than [beastmen]." Furthermore, Ruggie states in one of his Chats that âGirls have both the grit and the camaraderie to triumph when the goinâ gets tough.â Then, in events like Tamashina Mina and late in book 7, we are told that many of the royal guards are women who volunteer for the positions and it's common for them to have learned martial arts from a young age. From this dialogue, we can glean that the women of Leona's home country are physically strong, strong-willed, and honorable.
With that being said, I think certain interpretations of Leona's "feminism" (a term not actually used by official materials; this is a fandom take) definitely take it a step too far by either assuming Leona treats woman as a special class and/or he dislikes men. Both of those interpretations (if serious and not said as a joke) are owed to a fundamental misunderstanding of what "feminism" is. Feminism is "the belief in full social, economic, and political equality for women." Feminism is NOT misandry (a hatred of men), and nor is it female chauvinism (the belief that women are superior to men)... unless, of course, you're talking about very radicalized forms of thinking. The basic concept of feminism doesn't involve man hate or putting women on a pedestal.
Twst itself appears to go with the basic definition of feminism. As Leona himself states, he doesn't treat anyone special. "I ain't extra nothin' to nobody. As if [women] even need men fawning all over'em."
Leona, whom we know to be arrogant and unwilling to obey others' orders, appears to be more willing to listen to and carry out tasks if there's a woman involved. I already mentioned the case with Rosaria the painting (which proves that his "respecting women" thing extends beyond just beastwomen from his home country). In his Ceremonial Robes, he also grumpily puts on the aforementioned robes and takes a picture of himself in it upon the request of his sister-in-law. But--and this should be stressed--he's not exactly jumping for joy or eager to do so. Instead, Leona cites that "Goinâ against [beastwomen] only brings more trouble.â This indicates annoyance at having to carry out this chore, and gives the impression that Leona's only complying because not doing so would only overcomplicate things for him. He's not an idiot--he knows when to make a strategic retreat if it's going to save him time and effort in the long run. (For example, he immediately surrenders to the Ferrymen in book 6 rather than continue to put up a fight.)
I should note that, like in the earlier definition of feminism I shared, Leona does not simply bend the knee to every single woman. In the first Halloween event, he was still capable of scaring off the Magicam Monsters (some of which have distinctly female voices) without any qualms. He was still fully able to express anger and upset when Eliza, the Ghost Bride, smacked him. "You've got a lot of nerve turnin' me down over some nonsense!" He's also not above tricking the Fairy Queen and her entourage to steal back the special magestone from NRC.
This shows us that Leona doesn't just... "respect women" indiscriminately. If someone is going to be rude and selfish to him, he's going to respond as is appropriate. He's not going to turn a blind eye because of the offending party's gender.
In terms of Yuu interactions (assuming Yuu can be any gender), Leona acts pretty aggressive towards them in their first meeting. Even though it's clearly an accident and Yuu didn't realize they stepped on his tail, Leona is annoyed by the act and them walking away without apologizing or stopping to acknowledge him. He also makes it known that Yuu is magicless, and thus has no way of defending themselves from him. And you know what this man does? He says, "Well, can't say it'd be much fun to hurt someone so helpless. Still gonna do it, though." AND HE THREATENS TO TAKE A TOOTH. His wording, "No one gets to stomp on my tail and just walk away without payin' the price" + him still deciding to attack Yuu desite knowing they are weak/cannot fight back, implies to me that he may have still reacted this way regardless of Yuu's gender. (Key word: MAY. We don't know if this is the truth or not, I am leaving this up to your interpretation.)
Notably, there is a light change between EN and JP versions for Yuu's dialogue choices in response to Leona's threat. The EN dialogue options are far more humorous, but the JP options clearly convey fear (ie Leona is being serious about his threat of bodily harm). The top option is like noises of surprise, like "Eh, eh, eh!!"; the bottom option is along the lines of, "What, I'm going to be hit/beaten!"
There are, in fact, multiple instances where Leona acts callous towards Yuu. He refuses to let Yuu stay in Savanaclaw unless they earn their keep by beating up some mobs. He constantly degrades them by calling them and others he considers weak "herbivore". He has to be goaded into helping us or taking us along on trips instead of automatically caving. It could be argued that he would be more agreeable or polite if fem!Yuu was in these scenarios. And who knows, that might be the case--but again, I don't think he would be egregiously kind. I would like to point out a more direct example of a Leona-fem!Yuu interaction. Leona has interacted with a female Yuu before: Yuuka Hirasaka, our main character for the Episode of Savanaclaw manga. There's some debate over whether or not the NRC students know that Yuuka is a girl since the topic is never mentioned once, but I assume that they are aware because: 1) Yuuka makes no effort to hide her figure or chest; she even wears her blazer open, and 2) she has no motivation to hide her gender; she is capable of defending herself if needed and has a nonchalant personality. Proceeding with the assumption that Yuuka being a girl is a known fact, Leona does not treat her any differently than any other student.
Yuuka seems to experience the same tail-stepping scene as is depicted in game, although we don't see the aftermath of it/if Leona gives her the same threat.
The more telling scene for Yuuka, however, comes when she and her friends arrive in Savanaclaw to investigate. They are confronted by a bunch of mobs that start to pick a fight with them. Like in the game, Leona intervenes (ie he doesn't stop the fight just because Yuuka is a woman) and has them duke it out in a game of spelldrive/magift instead.
And you know what? Leona doesn't hold back just because he's playing against a woman. In fact, he kicks Yuuka's ass and then some. Then he stands over her and tells her to get back up, to keep playing. Leona isn't cutting Yuuka any slack whatsoever. He treats Yuuka the same as the boys she's playing with.
This brings me to my final prominent example of Leona interacting with a woman, which I think best exemplifies what my interpretation of Leona's "feminism" is. In the JP server's 2024 Halloween event Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas, Sally indicates that she plans on making a meal using the plants from around the cemetery. Leona is at first displeased by this, but then agrees to help her catch snakes, rats, lizards, etc. as meat for the meal. This leads into a conversation about how sad Sally's home life is, which earns her sympathy from the other NRC students. Jade, Riddle, and Epel are shocked at the cruelty that Sally faces. Jade volunteers to take the doctor out for Sally, and Epel even tries to convince Leona to help him rough up Dr. Finkelstein. But Leona just smirks and tells them Sally's not in any need of their "help"; isn't she the one who slipped the doctor a "drink"? Riddle scolds him for this "ungentlemanly" behavior and Epel refuses to believe that the "kind Sally" would do something like use poison. Leona was able to smell the deadly nightshade on her and deduce that Sally slipped some to her guardian and then slipped out on her own. She's not a damsel in distress--she's resourceful. Sally used her brains and not brute force to rescue herself from a bad situation. (We know that this would deeply resonate with Leona because he has been struggling his entire life to have his own merits recognized.) Leona praises Sally for her cunning and goes so far as to offer her his arm and tell her that he's looking forward to this evening's dinner.
In this situation, could it not be said that Jade, Riddle, and Epel were the ones assuming Sally is weak that Leona was the one who saw her true worth? I'm of course not accusing anyone here of being sexist. Society socializes us to see women as the "fairer sex" in need of protection and aid--but isn't Leona being more equitable by not underestimating Sally because of her gender?
That brings me to my conclusion. Leona respects women, no doubt about that. However, that's NOT a blanket statement. He clearly knows how to separate who is worthy of his respect and who isn't, and then he acts accordingly. Yes, he is polite, slightly softer, and more willing to listen to women he knows (his sister-in-law), women who haven't offended him/are just existing (Rosaria), and woman who have demonstrated their own strengths to him (Sally). He doesnât become a completely different character just to bend to the whims of women. Those who have acted in ways to earn his ire, woman or not, will be treated as such (Magicam Monsters, Eliza, even Yuu when they/she enters his territory and/or steps on his tail). At the same time, I don't believe he thinks that women are delicate flowers that need special treatment (as we see with how he handles Sally + the Yuus and, more specifically, Yuuka). If anything, the women from his home country have demonstrated that they can be strong and self-sufficient. Why would he feel the need to go out of his way to be extremely lenient with the women he is around?
Lastly, nothing in official materials implies Leona treats men significantly worse than women. If he seems exceedingly rude to men, itâs most likely the result of the main cast (the characters Leona most often interacts with) being guys. If we were to compare how he treats his peers and how he treats women who have irritated him, I would say the behavior isnât that different.
I know that was a long post but đ
Hopefully I was able to articulate my thoughts well enough⊠May you find it helpful in forming your own opinion, Anon!
#disney twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twisted wonderland#Leona Kingscholar#Ruggie Bucchi#Ghost Bride#Hirasaka Yuuka#Yuuka Hirasaka#episode of savanaclaw#episode of savanaclaw manga#jp spoilers#lost in the book with nightmare before christmas spoilers#Riddle Rosehearts#Epel Felmier#Jade Leech#Cater Diamond#Cater school uniform vignette spoilers#Leona ceremonial robes vignette spoilers#terror is trending spoilers#ghost marriage spoilers#fairy gala spoilers#Yuu#book 2 spoilers#notes from the writing raven#question#twst analysis#twisted wonderland analysis#twisted wonderland character analysis#twst character analysis
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wc: 617, a repost from an old blog, gn reader, fluff
ignoring gojo satoru is not an easy feat, although you assume that you've gained some kind of proficiency at doing so throughout the years you've known him.
high school gojo was not someone you looked forward to seeing every day, not that 28 year old "i'm-the-strongest-jujutsu-sorcerer-in-the-world" gojo is any better. but, you will concede that maybe, just maybe, there is a tiny part of him that has indeed matured.
but then he goes and annoys nanami and you wonder if maybe he hasn't changed at all.
one of the main things about gojo satoru that bothers you is the fact that he knows he's attractive and powerful, and he doesn't mind reminding people about those facts every single day. you don't know if you should be attracted by the confidence he exudes or put off by his attitude.
yet when you're the one he's teasing (because he hates being ignored, especially by you), a cocky smirk on his face as he pulls his blindfold up to catch your eye, you can't help but feel the former. and your attraction to the white-haired sorcerer is only getting harder and harder to hide.
"just tell him how you feel," shoko drawls, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring your pointed look. you look around the room, making sure that nanami and gojo hadn't arrived yet. you turn your gaze back to shoko when she speaks once again. "it's not like we can't feel the sexual tension between the two of you whenever you're in the same room. to be completely honest, we're all getting tired of seeing the two of you skirt around your feelings for each other. even yaga."
"yaga?" you ask, a horrified expression on your face as you imagine your teacher-turned-principal witnessing the admittedly flirty (not to mention embarrassing) exchanges between you and gojo. "oh god. i don't know if i can face him again."
"who?" shoko asks. "yaga? or satoru?"
"both," you groan, letting your forehead fall onto the table. you look up when shoko pokes your side, and you see her tilting her head towards the entrance of the bar. standing at the entrance is nanami, a scowl on his face as gojo, hair unruly and sunglasses perched on his nose, hangs off his arm. a faint smirk spreads across nanami's face as he nods politely towards you, diverting gojo's attention towards you.
it's brief, lasting a mere second, but everyone in the room can see the way gojo's face lights up when his eyes land on you. he tilts his head down slightly, making sure that his view is unobstructed as he takes in your appearance. you can feel his bright, blue eyes burning into you, gaze soft as he takes in your after-work attire. visible only to nanami is the pink blush creeping up gojo's neck, bright against his pale skin as you wave them over.
nanami and shoko exchange tired looks as gojo slides into the seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and trying to distract you from your conversation with shoko as you continue to ignore him. shoko shakes her head softly, and nanami nods in understanding as he takes the seat next to you, immediately holding up a hand to flag down a waiter. the two of them pretend not to notice the way gojo's smile grows when you finally turn to face him.
sure, everyone might be tired of the way you and gojo are avoiding your very obvious feelings for one another, but the way gojo is looking at you in this very moment lets them know that it won't be long before he finally tries to sweep you off your feet.
rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojou x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo imagine#gojou imagine#satoru x reader#gojo satoru imagine#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo imagines
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|| The Pantyeater Proxy ||
Frank castle x female reader
Tags/warnings: fluff, smut, Max!
đ Reblogs and comments mean the world, thank you for reading! đ
"What you got Max, buddy? What is that?"
By the time Frank wrestles the thing from his slobbering jaws, it's too late.
"Aw shit." He's holding up the black shreds that once were one of your favourite sets of lingerie.
"Goddamn it. You tryin' to get us thrown out?"
Max grumbles, looking up guiltily from his place the floor.
"Ain't no use sayin' sorry now, think we gotta go shoppin' boy."
He only had a few hours until you came back from work. Frank manages to decipher the brand from the small and partly-chewed label, maybe he can pick up a like-for-like replacement and you'll be none the wiser. More importantly, him and Max will avoid being in your bad books.
Frank is, admittedly, a little out of his element. You usually bought this kinda thing yourself, and Christ knows where you'd originally gotten it from. Things had started out okay, he'd gone to the nearest shop on Google, one with really good reviews, but now he was standing amongst mannequins and reams of hanging silk and lace bras, panties, teddies, slips, and anything else he could've imagined, completely lost. He couldn't even see the brand of the thing Max ate.
"Can I help, sir?"
Frank turns around to see a young woman about half his size, her face bearing what he recognises as a well used sympathetic expression for use on lost boyfriends and husbands.
He clears his throat. "Uh, yes ma'am. Any chance you carry this brand?"
She examines the torn label and then slowly starts to shake her head. "I'm sorry sir, we don't. I think it's actually discontinued. Were you looking for something specific?"
"Shit- excuse me ma'am, sorry, it's just my dog he uh... took a liking to my lady's things and made em into a chew toy. Kinda lookin' for a replacement or me and the dog might be sharing a kennel."
"Ah, yes." She smiles politely. "Could you give me an idea of what they were like and I could maybe find something similar?"
Frank scratches at the shorter hairs at the back of his head. "Uhh..."
She examines the frayed edge on the label. "Well we can start with black, right? Sooo lace, satin, silk, a combination? Wired or unwired bra? Full coverage, push-up, plunge, balconette, or maybe something a little more revealing? And how about the panty; brief, short, Brazilian, bikini, thong... crotchless? Do you know what styles she might like?"
Frank's head spins. "Shit, all I know is that she looked killer in them. You think you could gimme a quick crash course in all this, I can try tell you what she likes, definitely what she don't like- maybe find somethin' that won't get me my head ripped off?"
The shop assistant laughs. "Of course."
Frank returns to the apartment feeling more than a little apprehensive. He puts the fancy bag on the middle of the bed with a stern instruction for Max to leave well alone.
By the time you arrive home, he's almost forgotten about the incident, having been distracted with a phonecall from David asking if you guys were free for dinner this Saturday.
"-alright, yeah yeah 'course I'll bring some wine you dope. See ya then." He hangs up as he's walking over to give you a kiss.
"Hey sweetie, how was work?"
"Urgh, just the usual. Who was that?"
"Liebermann asking us to dinner tomorrow. Said yeah, we ain't got nothing else on right?" He helps you with your coat and you kick off your shoes and dump your bag on the couch.
"No that'll be really nice to see them. Okay I'm just gonna jump in the shower, then I'm all yours." You call as you're already walking into the bedroom to undress.
There's a beat, and then-
"Frank...? What's this?" You appear back at the doorway, the the bag dangling from the string handle on your hooked finger.
He sheepishly joins you in the bedroom. "An apology, from Max and me. Mainly Max as I ain't the one that ate your underwear." Frank looks over his shoulder at the dog curled up on the living room couch like he's denying all knowledge.
You snort. "Wait- what?!"
"M'sorry baby, I didn't catch him in time. Was hopin' it's a decent replacement, but if it ain't we can change it. You know I'm crap at this stuff."
You take out the tissue paper package from the bag, sitting on the bed and unwrapping it carefully on your lap. Whatever it is it's black. That's good, not that you were expecting some neon monstrosity from Frank, he was definitely one for the classic look when it came to the bedroom, but then again he'd say he thought you were smoking hot in a tatty old sweater and odd socks.
"You pick this?"
"Well I had some help from the shop (he left a big tip). But yeah. You like it?"
You run your fingers over the soft lacy cup of the wireless bralet, holding it up to look at it more closely. It was the right size anyway, one thing Frank was definitely good at was recon and attention to detail, that is if he didn't already have your bra size and other measurements ingrained in his brain. There were panties to match, not cut too high, again, silky soft, lacy and very sexy.
"I think I'm gonna have to try them on before I make up my mind on whether to forgive Max or not..."
A muscle in Frank's jaw twitches at the challenging look in your eyes as you take the contents of the bag into the ensuite with you, closing the door.
Frank is sat on the bed as you change, patiently waiting, almost biting his nails until you slowly emerge from the bathroom, one mouthwateringly delicious step at a time. You stop and pose, shifting your weight from hip to hip, pouting and biting your bottom lip at him.
"Hmm, what do you think? You wanna eat these panties, Frank?"
You're a fucking goddess. You were aways a goddess but holy crap, you wearing something he picked out and standing in front of him looking at him like that?
You smile a little wickedly as you climb on to him, and as you straddle his lap his hands are already all over your skin, brushing over the pretty straps and seams of your new undergarments.
"Sweetheart, baby, darlin', I wanna eat you."
You grab his face gently, "I was actually thinking that maybe we should save all this for tomorrow night, I'll wear these when we go to David and Sarah's for dinner. What do you reckon? Think you can keep your hands off me till tomorrow night when we get home?"
Frank has to grip his own thighs to stop himself from tackling you to the mattress right now. If this was his punishment it was gonna be unbearable.
"Yeah, okay, whatever you want." He husks, eyes darker than pools of ink.
You boop the end of his crooked nose with your finger before extricating yourself from over his tented sweatpants. "Good boy."
Frank groans as you leave him high and dry and disappear back into the bathroom to shower, wishing he could join you.
It wasn't easy tearing yourself away like that, you wanted him to ravish you as much as he did you. But still, he seemed keen to work for your forgiveness and he was only going to get that through some pretty hard repentance. And besides, you knew how fiery hot the sex was if the two of you had to wait for it.
Saturday night was only the next day and yet it felt like an eternity to Frank after not being able touch you. As he took in your pretty standard jeans and sweater combo his mouth was almost watering as he knew fine well what was hidden underneath. It didn't even matter that you were wearing sexy lingerie or not he just wanted you.
"Frank! Would you pass the fricken potatoes, please?!" David's apparently third request for potatoes shakes him out of his stupor.
"Earth to spaceman Frank, the hell is up with you?" He clicks his fingers either side of his head.
"Huh? Nothin', here." Frank grumbles as he finally sends more carbs David's way.
He's like this all night, and all you can do is try to hide your laughter behind a mouthful of food. Frank's been watching you like a hungry dog the whole time and you're living for it. Sarah knows something's going on but she doesn't ask for details.
"Let's just say he's being denied his treats for a little while." You explained to her with a wink in the kitchen later.
Sarah laughs as she tops up your wine glass. "Oh my god, they get so damn grouchy don't they?"
"And desperate," you add, and she hums knowingly as if she's recalling a specific incident, nodding emphatically.
"Hm, guess we better call it a night. I don't wanna make him suffer too much I guess."
"Oh you're far kinder than me!"
When you make a move to leave, Frank wastes absolutely no time grabbing his jacket and keys.
"Thanks for having us over you guys." You tell the couple, waving.
"No problem," David says, then gestures at Frank. "But hey, look after this big goon will you? His head doesn't seem like it's screwed on right."
"Yeah yeah whatever. G'night." Frank grabs your hand and pulls you towards the truck like the house is on fire as you giggle after him.
"Bye guys!"
When he pulls up at home you've barely shut the truck door before Frank's picking you up and marching to the front door. As soon as he's managed to unlock and slam it behind him he's got you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he attacks your mouth with his. You gasp as he squeezes your ass through your jeans, mouth traveling down the side of your neck as his hips press against yours letting you feel just how hard you've got him. You claw and shove at his jacket, urging him to take it off and you quickly remove your own and kick off your boots as he shrugs it onto the floor and does the same. He picks you back up again, carrying you straight through to the bedroom. Max raises his head briefly and then grunts as he goes back to sleep.
Once you land on the bed Frank is all over you, big hands caressing your body through your sweater which he yanks up over your head but doesn't remove completely, leaving your arms trapped before his mouth is back on your skin worshipping absolutely every inch of you, his lips and tongue trailing over the lace that contains your breasts.
"Frank- fuck!" You buck your hips up against his.
"Mm you want this now?" He growls and lets you free. You tug at his flannel and he's barely pulled it off before your hands are slipping up under his black shirt and feeling over his stomach and pecs, mapping your territory.
"God, you know how hard it was not to fuck you over that goddamn dining table?"
You tug and pull his belt free from the buckle, yanking down the zipper and slipping your hand in to stroke him firmly through his black boxer briefs. You bite down on your bottom lip, it's like a steel rod. "Was it this hard? Huh?"
"Fuck, baby- you know it." He hisses as you work him through the soft fabric, leaning down and kissing you so hungrily you're soaking though those pretty panties he bought you. It's as if he can sense it, unbuttoning your jeans and thrusting his hand down in front without bothering to take them off. His fingers are firm and focused, tracing the line of your folds where the silk is damp and sticking to your core from your arousal.
"God damn sweetheart..."
You moan as he strokes and cups your pussy, ruining your panties with how turned on you are. You move your hips against his hand, enjoying the delicious friction as you keep rubbing and squeezing his rock hard erection until neither of you can wait any longer. It's you that breaks first, pushing him away while you shimmy out of your jeans in record time. He does the same until he kneeling naked in front of you. You're still wearing the underwear that started all this and you intend to keep wearing it as you crawl forward, push him to lay back on the bed and mount him. He watches you transfixed as you spread your knees wide, simply pulling your panties to one side and sliding slowly down to take his cock inside, inch by fucking beautiful inch. You moan together as he bottoms out, feeling the completeness as he throbs and you squeeze. His hands skate up your back and you start to rock your hips back and forth, the feeling of him dragging against this deepest part of you like nothing else.
"God, you're so fucking incredible." He tells you, those dark brown eyes darting everywhere trying to take in all of you at once.
"So are you. Feels so good Frank-"
Your breath soon changes to short pants as you bounce yourself up and down on his dick, and he holds on to your hips, thrusting his own upwards to meet you, your gorgeous tits looking like they're about to jiggle right out of that little lacy bralet.
"Oh fuck, that's it baby, so good.." He looks down to watch his cock disappear in and out of you, getting covered with more of your cream each time. Your fingers dig into his chest as you hold on, throwing your head back as he palms and caresses one of your breasts, earning a wanton moan from you when he rubs and pinches your hard nipple between his fingers.
You wrap your fingers around his wrist and guide him to where you need him.
"Alright sweetheart, I got you." His breath is coming harder as he watches you intensely, seeing the pleasure twist your features into a picture of ecstacy when he slips his hand between the damp lace and your skin and circles his fingers right on your clit. You fall forward against him and he's got you, one hand between your hot bodies and the other holding your jaw, his thumb over the front of your throat as he keeps fucking up into you hard.
It's been a struggle not to lose his mind already before this point, you're just magic, absolute witchcraft to him. The way you had him begging for your touch, the way you look no matter if you're wearing sexy clothes or not, the way you fucking feel riding his cock. He's gonna see stars soon, he knows it.
Luckily you're on the same page, your moans getting louder and higher, the way you still your body, feeling him pounding into you...
"F-frank I'm-" you gasp as he doubles down, hips pistoning as he rubs your slick throbbing clit so fast you'd swear he was using a toy.
"Come on princess, let me feel it." Frank's strained plea drives you over the edge, undulating your hips with his again as the feeling bubbles up and bursts out from your center and through the rest of your body. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you so passionately, tongue twisting and lapping against yours. He groans long and deep as your tremors bring on his own sweet release, holding on to you tightly, burying himself into you in a last few powerful thrusts.
The two of you lie wrapped in each other for a while, just breathing, until Max pads into the room and starts licking Frank's foot.
"Here's trouble." He announces as he lets his head thunk back on the mattress while you gingerly sit up and raise yourself off him.
"I forgive him." You say smiling at Max as he wags his tail seemingly in understanding.
"You know they say don't blame the dog, blame the owner? Will you forgive me?" Frank looks up at you with the saddest puppy eyes you've ever seen.
"After that? And this?" You say, gesturing to what you're wearing. "Yeah, I think you get a pass too."
You grab his hand and help pull him up. "C'mon baby, let's shower and then take Pantyeater for a walk."
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wicked âą 19
âł Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince whoâs heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trustâŠBut are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
âł Pairing:Â Jungkook/reader
âł Genre:Â arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, itâs kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 13k
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tags: vaginal fingering, tiddy sucking (jk is definitely a boobs man), semi public sex??, oral (f), so many petnames, dom!kook, brief masturbation (m), multiple orgasms, size kink, multiple positions, cowgirl, creampies, slight somnophilia? (they keep having sex when they're both extremely exhausted), spooning turned to doggy, some very filthy talk, corruption kink, semi degradation kink, the word seed is used once and I actually hate it, some sweet, sweet aftercare, pillow talk, grinding, cumplay, brief handjob (m), edging, cockwarming, they're so in love your honor
Note: people will be shocked at how fast this update has come out and honestly ?? so am I, but tbf half of it is smut so...iykyk ALSO if you haven't checked out the playlist for wicked, you totally should!!
After the first snowfall, winter had come rolling in with no sign of stopping and just as Jungkook had once said, Penumbra was now buried in snow.Â
There was something so captivating about the snow, its crisp frosty delicate nature, how despite the sun being covered in clouds, the snow reflected off the light and made everything so much brighter.Â
The land was so desolate and yet so full at the same time, it left a deep yearning in you for the warmth, but in an oddly fulfilling way, it let you rest deeper at night, taking in the great vastness of the land and its minimalism.Â
The morning had been busy just as each morning before had been so, Yule was only a week away and the court had many aristocrats staying at the castle making merry. It was such a celebratory time and yet you still felt like a ghost better left in the past.
Your days were not all horrible, but the constant numbness never fully went away, at one time you had wanted to go to Yule in Kimhae to reunite with your parents, but the idea of leaving somehow filled you with as much anxiety as staying.
âWell? Whatâs on your mind?â Jungkook finally spoke, not looking up from his work book, making sure the last of his bill signs, contracts carefully written out and correspondence dealt with so he wouldnât be behind on his work when you both made your return.
You had been admittedly antsy, tidying up your bedroom, packing what few trinkets you thought you might want during the nights of your journey, fiddling with your own work and where to put what.
You simply couldnât sit still.
You didnât reply for a long moment causing Jungkook to look up from his desk, blue eyes appearing from those dark thick locks of hair.
Sighing you shifted as you set your book against the bed, ââŠYouâll be mad at me.â
âWell you donât know until you tell me.â Jungkook didnât seem worried.
You glanced away once more as Jungkook stood up, rounding his desk to walk over to you, ââŠWhat if I was having second thoughtsâŠAbout going to Kimhae?â
Jungkook curved a brow, âThe morning we depart for our trip?â
âDonât say it like that!â You pouted with an usher.
âIs it really the trip? Or is it something else?â Jungkook replied, brushing off your pout.
Your pout however only furthered because you didnât have an answer, âI donât knowâŠI justâŠthis is the first time weâll be making a public appearance outside of Penumbra since our wedding.â
âAnd what about it?â Jungkook shifted, crossing his arms, still not understanding what your problem was and truth be told you wish you had a better answer for him.Â
âDoes that not make you anxious? It makes me incredibly anxious.â You frowned, wringing your hands together, you were anxious about everything truthfully, but the idea of making your first appearance in nearly a year, wellâŠYou didnât know what to expect.Â
But then again, Penumbra had prepared you for pretty much everything at this point, there weren't too many boxes left to check off on life events at this point.Â
âWhy would I be?â Jungkook cocked his head to the side, âIâve nothing to hide nor prove to anyoneâŠIf youâre anxious simply because, then itâs understandable,â Jungkook reached out to you, brushing his palm over your cheek before it crept down to your neck, âA lot has happened, I think itâs only natural. But I also know youâve been looking forward to seeing your parents for the majority of your stay here, it would be imprudent of me to let you cancel our trip at the last minute.âÂ
Your lips quivered a little, âEven if Iâm terrified? What if something happens?âÂ
Jungkookâs lips curled into a little smile, his fingers curling around your neck, not squeezing, but in a loving hold you had grown so acquainted too, âThen I will be there to stop it from happening,â Jungkookâs forehead pressed down against yours, âI know youâll regret not going more then if you do.âÂ
Your eyes fluttered shut before you leaned over to bury your face into the crook of his neck, Jungkookâs arms wrapping around you tight as you murmured, âI hope youâre right.â curling your arms around his waist as you let yourself become engulfed in his warmth and letting it swallow all of your consuming thoughts.Â
It stayed like this for a long minute before Jungkook slowly pulled away, looking down at you as he spoke, âI have something I wanted to give you.â
You pulled away from him more to get a better look at him, tilting your head in curiosity, âA giftâŠ?âÂ
Jungkook snorted, âSomething like that. I wasnât sure if it would be finished in time, but Jimin managed to get it to me last night.â He let go of you before walking over to the bed, leaning down as he pulled down out from underneath.Â
You tilted your head at the thick cloth cover as Jungkook stood up, holding it out to you. It was long and thin but held a considerable weight to it, not too heavy, but just enough to let you know it was of incredible quality.Â
He nodded at you as a gesture to pull whatever was inside out, opening the draw strings. The first thing you saw was the bright silver crest of a pommel, pulling it out further was a soft leather hand and pulling it all the way out revealed a shortsword around twenty three inches.Â
You couldnât help but let your lips part at just how beautiful it was though, the metal was reflective and the detailing along the fuller, the blade was double edged and as your eyes traveled back to the handle you noticed a sort ofâŠlanguage? Written down the grip.
âItâs the first of its kind,â Jungkook finally spoke, âNoxtria melted with Quicksilver for a lightweight balanced sword but sharp enough to cut through thick metal. Godslayer is itâs name.â
âGodslayer?â You looked up at him.Â
âThe idea behind this blade was that it would be lighter than air, but have the strength to kill a god. I couldnât think of a better person to hold the first blade of its kind than my own wife. Weâve been working on your swordsmanship for a long time now and I think itâs time you carry your own sword.â Jungkook nodded, a sort of pride in his eyes as he watched you weigh it, giving it a whirl in your hand.Â
The training you had done had definitely made you physically stronger, as while the blade had weight, it wasnât taxing to hold, âI want you to never feel defenseless by my side, weâre partners and equals and while I hope it never again comes to you needing to use this, I want you to have it if the occasion were to ever arise.âÂ
You were speechless as you stared at the blade, a reflection of yourself in its metal staring back at you, lowering it you whispered, âThank you, Jungkook.âÂ
A small smile pulled on his lips, âAnything for my little sun.â His fingers traced down your cheek, âThe case for it is still in the cover, here Iâll help you with putting on the harness.âÂ
Jungkook took the cloth covering off it to reveal the heavy black sheath and the harness that it attached too, Jungkook had carefully pulled it around your hip, adjusting it until it was snug against your skin, it felt weird having such a thing attached to your body now.Â
But there was something oddlyâŠsafe about it, as Jungkook said, this was a safety measure and it made you feel as such, you could only hope you would never have to take another soul butâŠ.Your fingers unconsciously lifted, rubbing over the spot on your chest, now scarred from where Di Jin had attempted to kill you.Â
Jungkook as if knowing what you were thinking tenderly grabbed your hand pulling it away, âItâs difficult to see it now butâŠâ He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, âI thinkâŠif I could go back and change things I would, in a heartbeat. But I do think it happened for a reason.âÂ
Your lips trembled softly, âHow could killing someone happen for a reason?âÂ
âIt made a spectacle for one,â Jungkook replied, a certain soft note in his voice was his hand found its way back to your neck, âThose who doubted your ability to hold your own in the court will never question it again. Your words have always had bite, but now you have proof behind them.â
You shook your head, âI donât see eye to eye with you on this Jungkook.â
âI know you donât,â Jungkook replied, his thumb soothingly rubbing into your skin, âAnd I wouldnât expect anything less, but your respect in the court is much more now than it ever was before. Not only this butâŠâ
Jungkook paused for a long moment gathering his thoughts, âKnowing you have the capability to defend yourselfâŠthere will be times when we will have no choice but to be apart,â He sighed, âI will eventually have to lead projects that take me away from Penumbra, knowing you have the means to take care of yourself puts me at ease.âÂ
âI donât want you to be apart from me.â You mumbled, anxiety at the thought immediately quelling.
Jungkook let out an amused breath, âThatâs not something to worry about now, one thing at a time. If you have the rest of your things settled, we should head down, the sooner we get on the road the sooner weâll arrive, and the sooner youâll feel better.âÂ
â...I suppose.â You mumbled, but Jungkook was not feeding into your pouty expression, no matter how much it was his weakness, he grabbed your thick cloak which had laid abandoned on the bed, wrapping it over your shoulders as he buckled it up, grabbing his own to carry as he held out his arm for you.Â
Letting him guide you down you ignored the stares of a group of court ladies staring you down, perhaps in wariness, perhaps because the court had easily taken notice of how close you and Jungkook had become in the last few weeks.Â
The consummation of your marriage hadnât actually changed anything, but Jungkookâs confession of love had really done a number on you both, and every time those sweet words left his lips you had the intention of saying it back.Â
And yet every time it felt like the word got stuck in your throat unable to escape, perhaps it was because you were still scared, still in disbelief that Jungkook loved you, but all of his actions, his words, even the way he looked at you, it all screamed love.
Being met with snow on the ground, crunching beneath your feet you let out a breath that you could visibly see, a sensation you still werenât quite used to, it was freezing cold and the journey would be very long.Â
Jungkook had spared no expense to keep you wrapped in very thick layers in hopes that it would keep you warm, but it seemed no matter the amount, you were always cold.Â
âWheein is doing her last rounds of gathering items, she should be out shortly,â Taehyun called out, finishing fixing up your horseâs saddle, Jungkook walked up with you before helping you on and making sure you were situated before saddling his own horse.Â
âSnow isnât too deep yet, we should make a timely arrival,â Yoongi called out, trotting on his own horse up the path ahead before stopping next to Jungkook, âIf we make it with not much snowfall, it should only take four days.âÂ
Your lip curled a little at the estimate, you knew Kimhae was further away then Eunoia, but you had been used to only a dayâs travel when you were in Eunoia, they lived further West then Eunoia and a little further south.Â
The climate in the West however made it incredibly dry, the further you traveled the less snow there would be, hopefully at least.Â
Once Wheein had finished her last round of gathering any last minute packing she had come out with a few guards help and finished loading the pack horses and then mounted her own. It wasn't too big of an entourage of servants, but you had two of Yoongiâs men, himself and of course your two personal servants to attend you both.Â
You were nervous for many reasons, showing your face to the outside world, you werenât sure what reaction you would gain, knowing how the truth of Penumbra had been twisted beyond recognition, you could distinctly remember all the dread you had for two years of being engaged to Jungkook.Â
Words that he had abused women in many ways, that he starved all of his servants and that heâd beat them if they disobeyed, rumors swirling that he already had multiple wives and you would be another trophy in his collection, some rumors even going as far as to say he had his dead enemies taken to the castle so he could bath in their blood.Â
The list went on and on and every single one was just a rumor, nothing more than foolish lies spread to cause more fear, Jungkook was not a single thing he had ever been stated as, wicked least of all.Â
But you were now nervous because you had seen both sides, the truth and lies both, and you couldnât help but wonder what rumors had escaped Penumbra about you? Dread filled you once more, what twisted way could the world turn your murder of Di Jin even worse?Â
That you feasted on his corpse?Â
You could briefly taste the raw iron in your mouth that had you holding back a gag, Jungkookâs sharp gaze that had been looking ahead immediately on you, âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
You held your hand on your mouth trying desperately hard to not let the memory suck you back into the past, flashes of blood in your mind, cartilage mixed with skin, the raw smell of blood, âWater, can I have some water.â You forced the words out.Â
Jungkook wordlessly pulled the water satchel from the side of his saddle, handing it to you, âYouâre thinking.âÂ
You took a large swallow and slowly the faint taste faded back into the nothingness it came from, you shook your head handing it back to him, âIâm trying not too.âÂ
âYouâre not doing a good job of it,â Jungkook replied, making you give him a look, he laughed a little though you spot the concern in his eyes, âWould talking about it make you feel better?âÂ
You sighed as you shook your head, âI think iâd rather talk about something else,â Lingering on your thoughts would only serve to possibly bring memories even more vivid back, âYouâve been to Kimhae right Jungkook?âÂ
Jungkook guided his horse a little closer to yours so youâd be able to converse better, âItâs been a long time. We visited when they hosted the War Council. I wasâŠmaybe seventeen? This was just in the beginning of negotiating,â Jungkook hummed as he thought about it, âKimhae was dull in my opinion, they lacked conviction and were very obvious in the fact that they didnât respect Penumbra or the Jeon name.âÂ
You listened to him before you let out a laugh gaining his attention, âI remember this quite well, I was visiting Seokjin at the time. I remember spotting you and your father arriving out my window but you were too far for me to get a good look. I remember him complaining though. Telling me you had this haughty look about you, acting as if you were better than him.â
Jungkook scoffed, âI was better than him. I am still better than him. If you were present at the time thoughâŠWhy had I not seen you?â He looked a bit confused, as obviously women werenât allowed in the War Room but that didnât mean they were prohibited anywhere else, he had stayed a full fortnite at Kimhae that trip and not once had he seen you.Â
âI made myself unknown on purpose,â You replied, a small frown tugging on your lips, âIt was at Seokjinâs insistence of course, he didnât want you near me with the potential to âcorrupt meâ, as he said.âÂ
âCorrupt you?â Jungkook scoffed, almost offended, âIf we had met properly before our engagement, I feel we couldâve been cordial. Come to think of it I do remember talk of the Eunoian Princess, being in court,â Jungkookâs gaze became pensive as his brows pinched together, âI remember Seokjin gloating about how the fairest princess warmed his bed at night and that he loved nothing more then his name screamed in pleasure.â
You blinked multiple times before your gaze shot to Jungkook, âThis was in reference to me?âÂ
You had known Jungkook long enough now to tell he was absolutely wrought with anger at just the idea, his knuckles tight on the reigns of his horse as he stared ahead, âMhm. I once told you that we saw him differently, thatâs one of the many reasons why. He loved to peacock around gloating about sleeping with you.âÂ
âSleeping with me!?â Your mouth parted in somewhat disbelief, âWeâŠâ You couldnât help but let out a scoffed laugh, he had been pressuring you for some time, but you never realized just how desperate he was to go out of his way to lie to other men that you both had slept with one another in such a way.Â
And then the embarrassment began to flood in, was this why so many men in his court assumed you were loose, or that you were an easy woman?Â
âWell I can promise you he was nothing more than a liar,â You let out another laugh as you shook your head, âScreaming his name in pleasureâŠThe only name that was ushered was my own and even then that was on a lucky day.â
âYour name!?â Jungkook sucked in a harsh breath of air.Â
You paused, suddenly realizing what you had just said, and then looking around, there was a good distance between Yoongi up ahead with his fellow guards and Wheein and Taehyun were conversing further behind, Fenrir having walked alongside you awhile now.Â
âSo Seokjin has gotten to experience that sort of intimacy from you.â Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as if this was the worst news he could ever receive.Â
âItâs notâŠâ You sighed, trying to find the right words, you had never really planned on mentioning what little intimacy you shared with Seokjin, as it wasnât relevant to your current relationship and truthfully, there wasnât much to talk about, âIâveâŠWhen we first started to explore an intimate relationship together, you remember me being frightened by it, yes?âÂ
Jungkook tilted his head, a little confused as to where this was going but nodded regardless.Â
âThe same could be said for back then- especially back then,â You explained as you lowered your voice a little, âI was nervous to lose my virginity, Seokjin already didnât like my traditional Eunoian attire, but even moreso it had him acting out, trying to pressure me into giving myself to him. But I could never commit to it. The idea of him leaving me after I gave it too him made me too anxiousâŠAnd..â
You sighed as you glanced down at the snowy earth, âI hated feeling like nothing more than a sexual fantasy for him. Looking back, it feels as if that was all I ever provided, some sort of exotic fantasy that he could escape to in Eunoia, never truly a person, a soul, just something to make him aroused and fulfilled. And so to keep him satiated but also withhold my own boundary, I offered to pleasure him,â You pressed your lips together, your nose wrinkling, âIt wasnât very often, nor was it very pleasant but wellâŠIt kept things from escalating beyond my control.â
Jungkookâs jaw only clenched, âHow different things wouldâve been if we had met that week. Perhaps you could have been saved from all that trouble.âÂ
âThings happened the way they did though,â You offered a weak smile, âItâs not something I ever think about anymore, after all, it feels so long ago despite being so recent. And Iâm very content now.âÂ
You reached out to grab his hand as your smile brightened, âIâm happy I saved myself for the right person. I couldnât imagine it with anyone else.âÂ
This seemed to soothe Jungkook in the right way, âWell when you say it like that it makes me think youâll want extra help to keep warm tonight.âÂ
âJungkook!â You smacked his shoulder, âWhat an indecent thing to suggest, in a tent? In the middle of a journey?âÂ
Jungkook chuckled as he gripped his reins in contentment, âNo better time than the present princess.âÂ
You only shook your head, the hours seemed to go quick as you and Jungkook had talked about this and that, and then a content silence took over as the sky darkened and Yoongi had begun to look for a suitable spot to make camp.
They had managed to find a spot off road closer to the woods where the cold wind was blocked and snow wasnât as deep, clearing off the snow before getting fresh cut wood to get a fire going, setting up tents didnât take very long.Â
Soon dinner was cooking over the fire, granted you had already eaten an abundant mix of packed cabbage and vegetables tossed together and despite being tired and hungry Jungkook was still easily fending you off as metal clashed together.Â
âYouâll need to try harder than that princess,â Jungkook whirled the sword in his hand as you huffed a breath, stretching your aching arms, âIf you were to fight an opponent far more skilled than you in battle what would your tactic be?âÂ
âRun?â You raised your brows, Jungkook seemed to enjoy asking hypothetical questions that you were certain would never happen.Â
âOkay but in this scenario you do, what would you do?â He pressed, giving you a moment to regather yourself.Â
âWell it depends, if theyâre aggressive, which I assume they would be, itâs not difficult to size my lack of experience up in comparison to someone like you, Iâd have no choice but to defend until they burn down their energy and then once they tire out Iâd make a chance to strike.â You sighed as you lifted your sword back up.Â
âYes that would be the logical way to go about it,â Jungkook hummed, âContextually speaking. But there are other ways, you can use your environment to assist you, you could also have another ally help or use your size to your advantage. Being smaller means being quicker. Again.âÂ
You both tapped swords before sparring once more, Jungkook easily more aggressive this time causing you to back step until you back stepped right into the deeper snow causing you to yelp, whining out at the freezing damp sensation seeping through your dress into your skin.Â
âThatâs not what I meant when I said use the environment.â Jungkook sighed as he rested the flat of the blade on his shoulder.Â
You managed to step out back onto the shallow end as you whined out, âI am perfectly aware of what you meant! Iâm trying! I just canât seem to get itâŠâ You let out a defeated sigh as a tremor jolted through your body at catching the cold nip of breeze.Â
Jungkook only shook his head somewhat amused, âHow about we rest for the evening and get you close to the fire once more.â His hand curling around your waist as you both walked back to camp, âYou shouldnât have such high expectations of yourself, Iâve been training since I was a child, youâve come a long way for only training the last six months.â
âSparring is also different then a real duel or battle,â Yoongi spoke, as he had been watching you both the last hour in amusement, âIf youâre already doing this good in a spar, youâll be able to hold your own perfectly fine in either.âÂ
âThis is also true,â Jungkook yawned as he sat down on the large mat, offering a hand to you to help you down, âThe adrenaline is different, when it comes to life or death, you fight with more than your all, more than you could ever muster for a spar, even a duel.âÂ
âI just hope it never comes to that.â You sighed with a shiver, scooting closer to the warmth of the fire.Â
âWhat matters is that youâll be ready mâlady.â Wheein offered a kind smile as she continued, âAnd I agree with his Highness, youâve improved significantly compared to when you first started, itâs something to take pride in, youâll only improve with time.âÂ
âThe chances are slim but it never hurts to be prepared,â Yoongi chimed in once more, âDinner is ready.â
The rest of the evening had passed with laughter and fellowship that you found yourself truly enjoying, and at some point you had tried to remember when the last time you had felt this at ease, thisâŠat home?Â
Even in Eunoia, tragedy had always surrounded you during your youth, uncertainty of the war and the future as a growing lady and plunged into icy fear as a young woman, you wanted to say you had other moments of relaxation.Â
But you couldnât think of a single time, except for this moment, you found yourself curling up against Jungkook, yawning as your eyes began to droop and your head resting on his shoulder.
When your eyes opened once more, you were uncertain of how much time had passed other than the indication that everyone else had departed to their tents.Â
Jungkook had been leaning on one hand, the other wrapped around you as he had stared thoughtfully in the fire before realizing you had awoke, âAre you ready to depart for bed?âÂ
It was a quiet usher that made you nod with another yawn, letting him help you up as you walked over to your shared tent.
Due to the few people in your party, a circle of tents was formed, yours however just a little closer to the fire upon your request and how could you be blamed on a frigid night such as this? Even Fenrir was curled up right next to the fire, paying you both no mind as he continued to rest.Â
The tent wasnât extremely spacious, but it gave you enough room to get what you needed done without being on top of one another, âLetâs get you out of this.âÂ
âAnd into what?â You were more awake now than before, âDid Wheein leave me something?âÂ
Jungkook looked down at you, a sort of boyish look on his face making you pinch him, âDonât look at me like that,â He chuckled softly grabbing your hand away from his bicep, âWe have plenty of furs, and iâll let you sleep on the fireside, itâs making me hot being that close anyways.âÂ
âItâs too cold!â You whined out quietly.Â
âYou really want to sleep like that?â Jungkook was already stripping himself, âIâm burning up personally.âÂ
Your lips parted multiple times at the sight of his chiseled muscles, biceps flexing as he pulled down his pants revealing the taunt thick muscles of his thighs, even more notably his undergarments.
âCome,â Jungkook had a small smirk on his face as if knowing your eyes roamed his body despite how hard you were trying to be discreet, âLet me undress you.âÂ
You let out a discontented noise but it was difficult to say no when he looked like this and he was looking at you like that, shuffling over you sat on your knees in front of him, Jungkook leaned forward peeling off each layer with a sort of lethargy, as if in no big hurry.Â
Despite the chilled air you could still feel the lick of fire through the thick cloth tent, dropping the last layer down your shoulders you shuddered, a sort of shyness creeping over you as you felt your nipples immediately hardening at being exposed.
Jungkook helped you shuffled out of the last layer, in nothing more than your panties now, âItâs freezing,â You whispered, trying hard to not let yourself feel self conscious at being close to naked in the tinted firelight that your husband could easily see, âIf youâre content letâs go to bed.âÂ
âAh,â Jungkook immediately stopped you, eyes staying on your soft perked tits, âThe cold will help keep you healthy.â He had a stupid boyish look on his face again as he leaned in, warm breath fanning along your cheek before he leaned down unable to resist parting his lips to take your left tit into his mouth.Â
You let out a breath louder than you intended, but the you couldnât help it, the sharp contrast between the cold air and his warm wet tongue had your body flush with arousal, and clearly you werenât the only one as your eyes dropped down, a solid print formed showing your husband was also feeling the same.Â
âJungkook, it's too cold for thisâŠ!â You whined out quietly despite your legs immediately parting for him to sit between as he moaned against your breast, other hand squeezing your left tit as he pinched your hardened bud between his thumb and finger while suckling on the other.
You forced the moan back into your throat.
Jungkook finally released your bud from his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes full of arousal, âWell then weâll just have to warm you up then wonât we, my goddess?â His hand slithering down your waist as he parted his lips once more your left tit, sucking harshly making you jolt.Â
His fingers pushing beneath your panties as his fingers dragging against your puffy slit as you let out a breathy noise legs parting further for him as you leaned back on your hands, hips shifting to give him more access to your cunt.Â
Jungkook was delighted by the invitation you could tell by the way he harshly sucked your bud, middle finger suddenly pushing inside you, sliding in with a slight pinch of discomfort that didnât last long as he pushed all the way until his knuckle met with your body.Â
âWe canât be too loud now,â Jungkookâs lips curled into a smirk, âSo youâll need to be a good girl for me and be quiet.âÂ
You bit down on your lip as he pushed his index finger inside you the pinched discomfort returning the sensation of his fingers pushing in and out of your little hole had you relaxing into his touch with a soft moan, walls squeezing around his fingers with each thrust.Â
âMmm thatâs a good girl,â Jungkook grinned, pupils dilated in lust as he buried his fingers back inside your cunt, feeling your little walls clench around him once more before he brushed his thumb over your clit a higher pitch whine escaping you, âAh, ah, remember,â Jungkook looked amused, âYou need to be quiet if you want to cum all over my fingers princess.âÂ
âKook,â You whispered, eyes closed tight at the feeling of his thumb teasingly brushing over your clit, fingers buried deep inside you as your walls tightened around his digits, âPleaseâŠ!âÂ
The cold air was wrapping around your body, but the sharp contracts of his warm tongue and fingers burying inside you.
Jungkook laid you back against the fur before pulling your panties off, âYouâll get your pleasure, but you need to be a good girl and wait,â His voice was deep and soft taking off his own underwear to reveal his heavy, thick cock fully hardened, he parted your legs as you tensed cold air invading your cunt as he pushed his fingers back inside you, your clit extra sensitive from the cold with each little brush of his thumb, every little tease sent a sharp jolt of pleasure in your body.
Wet sticky arousal dripping from you little hole as you squeezed around his fingers, wiggling your hips a little with a whine, âKook, need more..â You whispered out, not liking this slow teasing game.Â
âPatience,â Jungkook replied, fingers pulling out of you only a little just to thrust them back in, he did this once more, even rougher, his pace was just right, hitting that sweet little spot inside your body that your walls clenching each time as your legs twitched.Â
Jungkookâs free hand rubbed through your puffy wet slit before he gripped the base of his cock, a hissed grunt escaping him as he slowly pumped his base, watching the lewd act immediately made a soft moan escape you, just the idea of his fat cock inside you had you clenching hard around him as he began arithmetically thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spot.
âFuuck you like watching me stroke my fat cock for you my love?â Jungkook let out a wicked look, his hand running all the way up his cock, thumb messily smearing his precum over his fat bulbous head before running it back down meanwhile his other hand began forcefully shoving inside your little hole greedily.
His thumb circling your clit as pleasure began shooting through your body, your eyes never leaving his cock that he squeezed tightly in his hand pumping it eagerly as his eyes flickered between your cunt sucking in his fingers needily and your face, entranced by his movements.
It made his shaft throb so bad in pleasure it hurt, he threw his head back with a low moan hips lifting as he thrusted his cock into his fist, feeling your little hole squeeze so tight around him it was difficult to move his fingers.
Jungkook locked eyes with you, that wicked look on his face, âWhat do you think that little ex lover of yours would say if he could see you right now?âÂ
âMmm! Right thereâŠ!â You whimpered out, struggling to keep your voice quiet as your legs turned limp at how rough he was thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spongy spot inside you, âKook, right thereâŠ!âÂ
Jungkook lifted his hips once more, fucking his fist at the way your legs lifted up, bringing them to your chest to obediently spread your cunt further for him, âWould he say Iâm corrupting you right now?âÂ
You had to bite down on your hand to fight back the whines and moans trying to escape you, âPleaseâŠ! Please.â You kept muttering it, body twisting and building so fast your mind was completely blank aside from the filth Jungkook was whispering to you.
âThat Iâm tainting his pretty little Eunoian princess, filling her cunt up until sheâs completely fucked out cumming all over my fingers?â Jungkook harshly squeezed the base of his cock, keeping his knuckles buried in your cunt as he rapidly hit into your g-spot.Â
Jungkook wanted to laugh at the strangled high pitched moan escaping you as you desperately tried to keep it quiet, feeling your warm little walls wrap tight around his fingers as you came, arms wrapping around your face to try and keep your cries of pleasure to yourself.
Jungkook eased you through your orgasm before pulling his fingers out of you, low breathes escaping you as your chest lifted and dropped before letting your arms drop from your face to the crude sight of Jungkookâs fingers in his mouth, eyes closed with soft moan as he licked your cum off them.
âThis is the best way I could have ever relaxed.â Jungkook pulled his fingers from his mouth with a content look as he laid down next to you, your eyes however still on his hardened cock.Â
âBut youâŠâ You frowned.Â
Jungkook raised his brows before his eyes dropped to his cock before shrugging, âI donât cum easily, a good and bad thing I guess. Câmere love.âÂ
âHow do you want me?â Jungkookâs eyes snapped back open as they met yours, as if trying to figure out if he heard you correct, âI want you to feel good too, how do you want me?âÂ
Jungkook moaned softly closing his eyes once more, unable to look at those cute, eager little eyes of yours, basically asking to be filled up by him.Â
âRide my cock.â Jungkook replied, admittedly getting difficult to keep his eyes open, but heâd rather kill himself then miss the opportunity to cum inside your pretty, puffy little cunt.Â
You knew what he meant, you had gathered as much the last time but you just⊠you awkwardly straddled him, his hands on your hips to help guide you, this wouldnât be as difficult as last time right?
Grabbing his cock in your hand you heard a gritted hiss through his teeth, rubbing his bulbous head through your wet folds before lining him against your entrance, unlike last time you sank onto it.
Biting your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, rather than a pinch the discomfort was still moderate, but not nearly as much as the first time.Â
âMmm fuck,â Jungkook moaned softly, still unable to process that he was getting to feel your warm little walls wrapping around his thick head, âDoes it still hurt?âÂ
His hands soothingly rubbed up to your waist before back to your hips, âA little,â You whispered, settling your hands on his chest, âI still donât know what Iâm doing.âÂ
Jungkook opened his lidded eyes, trying his damn hardest to not fall asleep right now, âItâs not difficult, just a matter of practice. Sink a little lowerâŠâ Jungkook bit his lower lip a little at watching his cock sink further inside your warm cunt, âNow lift your hips like this.âÂ
You let his hands guide your movements as you let out a soft whine, the pain subsiding as his cock began to slide inside you with ease, stuffing you so full it was difficult to believe you had something this big inside you.Â
Just the feeling of his heavy cock burying inside your cunt made your walls wrap tighter around him, slowly bouncing on his cock as Jungkookâs hands settled on your hips, âFuck yeah love, just like that, riding my fuckinâ cock like you were made for it.âÂ
His words of pleasure made you bounce a little faster, taking him a little deeper each time before his hands tightened on your hips, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you all the way down, you let out a tiny whine at being so full of cock with no warning, walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned.
Jungkookâs eyes were closed as he let out a breathy deep moan, âCould fall asleep like this every night, use my pretty little wife as my personal cock warmer, mmm keep squeezing around me like that.â He had a sleepy smirk on his face as his hands wrapped around your ass, urging you to start riding him once more.Â
You quickly found you loved being full of cock though, cunt split open by something so thick and heavy, excitement trilled through your body making your walls wrap tight around him as you began bouncing on his cock.
Letting out quiet moans at the feeling of his shaft hitting all the right places inside you, âMmm yeah, ohâŠfuckâŠâ You whined out softly, sitting up right as you bounced all the down his cock as you grinded against his pubic bone.
Jungkook forced his tired eyes open to the amazing sight of you, his pretty wife completely naked bouncing on his cock, tits bouncing and face fucked out, clearly pleasuring yourself now, âMake me cum,â He moaned out softly, âLet me fill that pretty little cunt up.âÂ
You kept trying to bite back your whines as your hips became more messy in bouncing, uneven and unsteady as pleasure quickly built inside you, sinking back on his cock as your walls tightened, moaning just a hair louder as you creamed all over his cock.Â
Jungkook was tired, sleep near taking him the same way you took his cum, letting it shoot deep inside you as you swiveled your hips, taking every lost drop heâd give as quiet breathes filled the tent, your own eyes closed with that same unmistakable tiredness.Â
Jungkook let out a tired smile, âWhat a good girl.â He pulled you onto his chest, shifting you both to be buried beneath the blankets and furs, being skin to skin made you realize just how cold you had been.Â
Jungkookâs skin was like fire, hot to the touch and your own personal little fire, curling up against him, your eyes immediately fell heavy, sleep had never felt so peaceful as being skin to skin with your husband.
The journey to Kimhae had been rather uneventful and what few encounters you had with wolves and even a bear, Fenrir had easily warded them off, your baby having grown so much in the last months now standing just a little taller than your horse.
Jungkook had been up ahead chatting with Yoongi for awhile now, something regarding plans on resuming the Eastern movement when you returned from Yule.
Wheein had been riding by you for awhile now in a comfortable silence aside from a few comments to Fenrir who had been running ahead in the snow and finding random branches to be thrown, the only problem being they were too heavy for you to toss.Â
âSomething on your mind Wheein?â You finally asked, having noticed a faraway look in her eyes for a good while now.Â
Her eyes met yours before she gave a small, weak smile, âNothing incredibly important I justâŠâ She faltered a little, âI know the past cannot be changed but, I canât help but feel like so many events could have been avoided if it werenât for me.âÂ
You straightened up, frowning immediately at her words, âWhat would make you say that?â
Wheein hesitated to speak, â...What happened, with my execution, youâŠâ It looked as if it was physically difficult to attempt to finish her sentence, âI know how important keeping your culture intact is for you. Youâve done nothing but try to become a Penumbrian Princess, and for you to be put in a position where you had to compromise your own personal oath and beliefâŠâ Wheein let out a shaky breath, visibly puffing in the cold air as her eyes looked watery, âI feel as though I havenât given you a proper apology Mâlady.âÂ
Your heart felt like it was twisted, âYou have nothing to apologize over Wheein. I am still mourning many things but IâŠI donât regret what I did. I said it once and I will say it again, I was willing to do anything to get you back. Di Jin was the assassin who attempted to kill me, which started this entire messâŠI donât know how much youâve heard about the EstateâŠâ
Wheeinâs lips stayed in a frown, cheeks flush and rosy from the cold wind as she adjusted her shawl, shaking her head, âOnly whispers of rumors to what happened, and my own assumptions when you intervened on my execution.âÂ
You let out a shaky sigh, trying your best to detach yourself from the memory as you recalled the events that lead up to that fateful night, âThey had lured Yoongi away and I foolishly sent him in good faith that nothing would happen butâŠDi Jin revealed himself that night revealing that he had come to finish what he started. He almost did,â Your hand trembled as you pressed it against your chest, âThen he got closer to me, trying to kiss my neck andâŠI donât know.â
And that was the funniest part, you still had vivid clips of what happened in your head, but it was all so fast, so gorey, your mind had blotted out a lot of it, âOne minute he was on top of me, and the next minute I was covered in blood.âÂ
There it was, that distinct iron on your tongue, it made you sick to your stomach, âAnd I didnât stop after he was dead,â Your lips trembled as you whispered, âThatâs the part that scares me the most. He was dead and I kept going, I...it was like I was possessed, unable to stop. I feltâŠâ It felt like bile was beginning to rise in your throat as you swallowed it back, âGood. Powerful, invincible in that moment, feeling his flesh in my mouth, the taste of his blood on my tongue-âÂ
Your hand suddenly grabbed your lips, trying to swallow back the bile which risen much faster, immediately grabbing the water satchel that hung off the saddle of your horse, taking a long drink from it to try and wash what you had just admitted away.Â
It had been plaguing the back of your mind every moment it was quiet, the fact that something inside you liked it, even enjoyed the depraved act, showing someone who had disrespected you and your heritage, making a mockery of it for so long, a little devil inside you secretly wishing you had finished what you had started, to devoured him the way your ancestors would.Â
Even now a little voice in the back of your head was thrilled by it, it never ceased to make you sick, Weak in the stomach with shame every time it crossed your mind, it felt so heretical to think let alone voice aloud, the extent of how much a secret part of you enjoyed it.Â
âI am so sorry Princess,â Wheein whispered, clearly hurting for you as she held back her tears, inhaling sharply, âI still canât believe whatâs happened. Iâm sure being away from Penumbra will be a good break for all of us.âÂ
âIf I had justâŠâ You had to stop yourself from saying what you wanted, you had the ability to heal Wheeinâs mother, maybe if you had listened to Baba EnĂ ir more carefully, had been more dedicated to your studies as a childâŠperhaps this whole thing could have been prevented if you had been the one to heal Wheeinâs mother, disputing any claims, âIâll never send you away so often like that without company, I never want to put you in such a compromising position Wheein and for that I am sorry.â
âWe all have our grievances about what happened.â Wheein smiled sadly, âBut what counts is that we are both alive and well, butâŠSomething else does plague me.âÂ
You tilted your head, patiently waiting for her to continue as she gathered her thoughts, the wind blowing her black locks of hair back as she squinted her eyes, âWe still never caught who sent the assassin. What if this happens once more?âÂ
You frowned, you had thought this as well, âSomething tells me, whoever did this will try a different tactic next. We must remain vigilant, perhaps moreso in Penumbra then even in Kimhae.â You nodded in thought, âI do agree though, this will be good for all of us.âÂ
This had become routine at night it seemed, waiting for everyone else to depart to bed before being guided back yourself, undressed by your husbandâs large, warm hands, and then taken whatever way he wanted, with his hands, his tongue, his cock, you werenât picky.Â
You however were starting to become used to the sensation of his cock spliting you open, his cum dripping down your thighs, an unfamiliar soreness between your legs that had a sweet ache that made you crave more.Â
You had never understood the idea of physical intimacy in the past, it always made your skin crawl at the idea, but then again, you never had a partner you felt you could trust like this.
More than anything, you loved being close to him like this, loved that you could be so intimate with the person you trusted more than anyone, his arms wrapped around you, laying slightly on top of your back, keeping you warm just as he promised every night.Â
It was odd, the comfort it brought feeling his warm cum dribbling from your little hole as you yawned, eyes closing as you dozed off in his arms.Â
It was still late into the night when you awoke to his lips pressing on your neck, moaning softly as his hips rutted into you, cock hardened once more much to your sleepy surprise, âMm, need you my love.â His voice was much deeper, telling you he was also half asleep, âDreamt of your pretty little cunt, letting me fill it up.â
âMmm Kook.â You mumbled out, eyes closing as you felt your leg being propped further up to give him better access to your little entrance, his arms tightened around your waist as he managed to line his cock up before pushing it in.Â
A soft sleepy moan escaped you, an entirely new position you were acquainted with but something about it made you feel so full, his cock pushing all the way inside you until his hips were flush with yours.Â
Each lazy thrust of his hips had soft noises escaping you, your eyes shutting in tired bliss at his cock pushing past your little walls, filling you to the brim each time, throbbing as the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy little spot.Â
Jungkook moaned as he buried his cock inside you once more, his movements having paused forcing your eyes back open, was he asleep? Your walls suddenly squeezed around his cock at being so split open by him.
This elicited a moan from his lips that sounded like pure sex, âYour cunt is heaven,â He mumbled in your skin, âCould keep my cock buried inside you forever.â
Not moving was stirring you further, making you more awake as you whined, âJungkook, moveâŠ!â You wiggled your hips a little earning a small thrust from him.
âThink Iâll asleep like this,â He moaned once more into your skin, âLike the way your cunt wraps around me like this when Iâm splitting your cunt open.âÂ
Jungkook moaned at feeling your cunt squeeze around him once more at his words, just like he had hoped, âJust go back to sleep my love,â He mumbled in your ear, hand pulling around to cup your tit in his hand as he massaged it making you whine in frustration as your hips began to pull and lift, sliding his cock in and out of your cunt just a little.Â
âMmm fuuck, sweetheart go to sleep.â Jungkookâs voice was a pitch higher than before, his free hand almost guiding your hips though as you fucked back against him, and your eyes were closed but sleep was not on your mind.Â
Your lips parted with a soft whine at the new sensation this position gave you with him behind, his cock slide inside you just the right way brushing that sweet little spot with each bounce of your hips, it had you rapidly clenching around his cock.Â
Muffling your moans into your blankets as you pushed all the way back against him wiggling your hips as pleasure throbbed throughout your cunt, feeling arousal dripping from your hole as his cock slid back inside you with ease as you let out a pathetic whine, walls wrapping harsh around him but it just wasnât quite enough to get yourself to orgasm.Â
Jungkook let out a sleepy chuckle, âWorking yourself up are you?âÂ
It wasnât fairâŠ! He woke you up and you were somehow the one falling apart on his cock desperate to cum, âKoo, please.â You whimpered out quietly, shifting yourself a little to be better able to lift your hips up to his, giving his cock better access to slid in and out of your little hole with ease.Â
âMmm shit, your acting like a bitch in heat,â He moaned softly, eyes dropping to your cunt that kept backing into his cock, âYou want to be fucked?â He whispered deviously in your ear.Â
And Jungkook knew you did, could feel the way your walls wrapped so tight around his throbbing cock, wanting so desperately to reach your climax.Â
âJungkookâŠâ You whispered urgently.Â
âSay it.â
You let out a frustrated noise, pausing your movement but Jungkook wasnât having it, his hand wrapping around your neck as he gave it a harsh squeeze, letting out a small gag as his voice deepened in your ear, âBeg for it little princess, beg for me. Beg for my cock.âÂ
Jungkook suddenly thrusted inside you, harshly making your body jolt as you whined out, shaking your head, this only made him thrust rougher causing you to squeeze around him in excitement, âMmm like this, feelsâŠ! Good.â You whimpered out quietly, your body twitching as pleasure blossomed in your cunt, you were so closeâŠ!
Jungkook buried back inside you, stopping once more causing a louder fussy whine to escape you, his hand squeezing around your neck once more, âIf you like this then youâll love whatâs next. But you need to tell me, câmon,â His hips lazily swiveled before giving short thrusts, edging your body as your hands curled into fists, âTell me you want my cock, that you want your pretty little cunt destroyed by me, that you want to be filled with my cum.â
You could feel saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, his cock teasing your body with such short movements it had you whimpering, âKooâ, fuck me, pleaseâŠ! Need youâ, need your cock, anythingâŠ!âÂ
Jungkook moaned as your quiet frantic pleaâs as he suddenly pulled out of you, a sharp whine escaping you as he swatted your ass to be quiet, manhandling you onto you stomach as he kneeled between your legs you felt confused before your hips were lewdly lifted, presenting your cunt to him.Â
You didnât have any time to adjust or even think before his cock pushed back inside you, a moan much louder than you meant for it to escape your lips at an entirely new, better sensation, every movement of his cock had you cunt squeezing in pleasure.Â
âMmm yeah, you like being made to take it from behind?â Jungkook moaned, keeping your hips up as he thrusted inside your little entrance, watching it split open for his cock before greedily sucking it in, âMaybe this is how your little dryad kin had children? Fucking like animals?â He whispered out, hearing a gurgled whine from you only made his thrusts that much more forceful, the sound of his balls smacking into your skin music to his ears, âBeing made into nothing more than a bitch desperate for cock.âÂ
The side of your face was planted into the ground, eyes shut in pleasure at just how good it felt, his cock hitting every little sensitive spot inside you, his demeaning words that wouldâve sent flames of angry through your body once upon a time only filled you with excitement, enjoying how he manhandled you how rough he was starting to thrust, no regard for whether your cunt could take it or not.Â
Your mind was filled with all sorts of unholy things, not realizing how much you were beginning to moan, enjoying the way he had a hand pressed into your back forcing you down on the ground, his balls smacking your skin and his cock pushing past your tight walls.Â
âKooâ...! âm gonna..! Mmm!â Your moans were gurgled, desperate, cunt rapidly squeezing around his cock, a feeling he had quickly grown to love as you crumbled beneath him, at his mercy as he roughly thrusted, burying his cock deep inside you as he quickly leaned over you, chest flush with your back as his hips became faster.
Just as you let out the whinest, loudest cry his hand covered your mouth to muffle it, tears began to build in your eyes at how powerful the pleasure was building in your body, your legs uselessly twitching and your body convulsing.
But it was all useless as his cock kept sliding in and out of your small hole, âGo on sweetheart, mm know how bad you wanna cum. I see those pathetic little tears. Cum sweetheart, cream all over my fat cock, make it nice and messy for me.âÂ
Your body was being jolted with every thrust of his hips, your clit aching to be touched as your cunt was full of his thick shaft, his dirty words whispered in your ear making you throw a whiny pathetic fit as your walls squeezed even tighter around him, so desperate to be obedient.Â
âCâmon princess,â Jungkook moaned tantalizingly in your ear, his hips pounding into you with nice lengthy thrusts, wet lewd sounds coming from how soaked you were, âCan feel it, feel how bad that pretty little cunt wants to cum, squeezing around me so tight, fuuck, thatâs it, câmon.â Jungkook wasnât intentionally edging you but god did it feel good, you were moaning and crying into his hand, tears slowly beginning to trickle down your face at how good you felt.Â
Not a single thought in your head other than his cock stuffing you full, purposely dragging into the little spongy spot each time just edging you a little closer each time to your release.
âDoes your little pussy feel good?â He teased you, a wicked grin on his face as his hips pushed fully inside you, giving short thrusts to keep you as full of cock as possible, âYou like presenting this little hole to me? Letting me fuck my seed deep inside, my pretty wife who swore sheâd never let me cuff her in bed? How does it feel knowing Iâm going to fill your pretty little cunt up?â
Jungkook let out a low moan, feeling your muffled voice cry out against the skin of his palm as your cunt rapidly clenched around him cumming so hard it felt like your eyes were rolling to the back of your head.Â
And Jungkook wasnât stopping, his hips slammed into you, wet lewd sounds filling the tent and his balls smacking into your skin as he kept his hand on your mouth to keep your moans and cries of pleasure quiet, unable to subdue them yourself anymore, as the pleasure kept going, his hips jostling you around before you felt it.
âFuck!â Jungkook growled out, burying his cock inside you as he came, roughly pumping his cock inside you as he let out a shaky moan, letting your greedy cunt suck every drop from him as he moaned, perhaps louder then even he intended.Â
After a few more seconds he collapsed on top of you, making you whine, sniffling as you wiped your face as you felt his hand drag to your waist, stroking it tenderly as he pressed a kiss against your neck, âYouâre so perfect.â He whispered, pressing another kiss against your skin, âMade for me. Only me.â His hand squeezed your waist, before he laid flat on his back shifting you around to lay against him, your body curling up as you set your head against his chest.
Your thighs were aching and your hand trembled if you looked close enough as you dragged it over his chest.
And for the first time, with the fire illuminating the inside of the tent, you took the time to drag it over the rough skin of his chest and upon closer inspection noticed all sorts of marks, curiously you shifted once more.Â
âWas twice not enough for my little sun?â Jungkook chuckled as you straddled his waist, his hands wrapping around your hips, âWeâll need to start retiring earlier if you want me to have more stamina.âÂ
âIâm notâŠ!â You felt your body flush, trying to remind yourself that you were in fact naked right now, âIâm just looking.â
âMmm, so am I.â Jungkookâs eyes trailing down your exposed body to your cunt, watching the white substance dripping out onto his skin, âIf I werenât already exhausted Iâd already have you bent over again.âÂ
âJungkook!â You whispered out, starting to feel embarrassed now, âStopâŠplease.âÂ
He let out a tired, boyish smile and staring down at him you couldnât help but mirror it, he looked much younger like this, more like his age, eyes lidded from tiredness as his hands wrapped further, fingers digging into your ass, âIs it a crime to admire my wife? Youâre only sitting on top of me naked.âÂ
âIâve seen you shirtless many times now,â You decided to no longer entertain his dirty thoughts, slowly lowering yourself down his chest making his fingers squeeze tighter around your ass, âBut iâve never truly paid attention.â
âTo my godly physique?â
This made you both quietly laugh as you shook your head, unable to not be endeared by this new playful side of him you had never seen, âHow did you know?â You whispered back, a light tease in your voice as your hand traced over his sternum, âI meant the scarsâŠHow many battles did you fight in?âÂ
Jungkook palmed your ass in his hands, massaging the flesh as he yawned, eyes closing as he hummed potentially trying to recall, âToo many to count honestly, I was drafted before the Five Year War started as to be properly prepared.âÂ
Your fingers traced over each scar, some long and thin, others short and deeper, few discolored still having never properly healed, others faded and hardly visibly, âHowâd you get this one?â Your fingerâs stopped on his left right, a circular scar it was small, as if he had been pierced.
Jungkookâs eyes slowly lidded once more, following where your fingers pressed, âWhen we first rode to Rolon for war, an archer shot me right off my horse, my only saving grace from death was the wind otherwise it wouldâve pierced my heart, y'know itâs said the Rolon Archerâs were trained since children, they could shoot a coin from over a hundred yards away.â
âYou were injured before the battle had even begun?â You whispered out, perhaps a little amused at his story.Â
Jungkookâs hand trailed down the back of your thigh, pulling them apart just a little making your hips brush over his skin, the feeling of wet stickiness rubbing over his skin, âIt was my first endeavor by myself, my men were counting on me to lead them, you can imagine it was a pretty pathetic sight.â
âSo how did you manage to siege them if you could not get close?â You tilted your head, resting your elbows down his chest, your hips appeasing him as you softly grinded down on his pubic bone.Â
âWe had all camped outside their outer districts, preparing ourselves,â Jungkook let out a pleasured hum, eyes closed once more and fingers trailing back to your ass before settling at your steady, soft movement, âWe could not get close to their borders without them shooting us down by the tens if not hundreds. And so we would have to make ourselves unknown, invisible.â
A quiet moan escaped him at the feeling of your hips pulling just a little further down just above where his cock was beginning to stir despite his own lethargy.Â
âInvisible?â Tiredness was beginning to pull at your lids but you enjoyed this too much, the conversation, the feeling of your puffy, cum covered slit grinding against him, making him break focus, âSurely that wouldnât be possible?âÂ
âInvisible to the faraway eye that is,â Jungkookâs brows pinched, fingers gripping your ass a little tighter as your hips dragged just along the base of his hardening cock, weepy and sensitive from having already came inside you twice this night, âMmm, I didnât think youâd be such a little lust driven succubus once we consummated.â
It made you grind him just a little harder, the feeling of his cock bobbing before it smacked against your cunt, fully hardened and precum smearing against your asscheek.Â
âIâm trying to have a conversation,â You teased, hands traveling over the expanse of his chest before your fingers found his dark nipples, curiously you pinched them a little, âYouâre the one thatâs making it sexual.âÂ
A restrained moan escaped him as his eyes cracked open, you couldnât help your curiosity, fascinated at his different reactions to different things, after all, you were learning his body just as much as he was learning of yours.Â
âSex is dripping off of you,â Jungkook sighed, feeling your hips tease his cock once more, puffy slit rubbing down itâs base before back to his pubic bone, âI canât help the way my body reacts to it, climbing on top of me naked isnât a productive way to have a conversation.âÂ
You couldnât help but close your eyes briefly, relishing in the feeling of his heady, heavy cock dragging through your puffy slit, coating it in a mixture of your wetness and cum.Â
Feeling his shaft rubbing into your sensitive clit was you let out a soft moan, âYou didnât continue your story. How were you invisible.â Your hips dragged back to his pubic bone, pausing your movement to try and refocus your conversation.Â
Jungkook let out a displeased sound, fingers digging against your ass once more, âIf you want to hear my stories, keep entertaining me.âÂ
âCan you stay focused?â You gave him a mischievous smile, slowly pulling back up to your elbows, his eyes immediately on your tits.Â
âAs long as you donât make me cum,â Jungkook retorted right back, a cocky grin on his face, âWell?â You tried not to shy away from his expression as your hips slowly began rubbing on him once more, teasing the base of his cock as he let out a soft pleasured moan, eyes slowly closing once more to enjoy the feeling as he recalled, âI proposed to my men that we would camouflage ourselves with the terrain, we covered ourselves in mud and moss, whatever greenery we could and crawled on the earth to evade their eyes.âÂ
His fingers dragged down to the back of your thighs once more as your hips dragged a little lower down his shaft as your clit throbbed making a soft moan escape you, âThatâs how you managed to siege their capitol Montclair?â
His fingers pulled your thighs apart, opening your slit a little more as it rubbed along is shaft back to his base, âMmhm, like that,â He whispered out at feeling your hips pause at the base of his cock, wiggling a little to push it further between the lips of your cunt.Â
Silence had suddenly taken over as your eyes shut, enjoying being able to pleasure your husband as your hips slowly rode the base of his cock, letting it slip against your lips and rub along your clit.
This type of pleasure was slow, tantalizing, making his hips rut a little, gliding with ease against your soaked cunt, âWhat about this one.â Your fingers briefly brushed along his left breast, a long wicked line crossing it as you slowed your hips back down.Â
âTraining accident when I was younger,â Jungkook murmured out, sounding half asleep, âI had assumed Hoseok was going for a lower strike but he tricked me, he got too close and accidentally sliced me right across the chest, it was a larger wound when it had first happened.âÂ
Jungkook had a faint smile on his lips as his hands dragged to your waist, keeping a firm grip to encourage your hips, his eyes pulled open only a little, âHe wouldnât stop crying while profusely apologizing to me, saying heâd do anything to keep the wrath from my father at bay.âÂ
âDid he hear about it?â Your moan was mixed with your soft laugh, grinding down as your clit dragged against his skin.
Jungkookâs breath hitched, âNo, it only went as far as my aunt. She merely laughed it off, saying it was good practice for the real deal.â
You paused your movement, hands tracing down his particularly slim waist, just at the bottom of his ribcage, âAnd this?â
You lifted yourself up as Jungkook opened his eyes, âNo looking.â You whispered out.Â
This made him confused before he let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes once more, âIâve seen it already princess, you canât hide anything from me at this point.â
âIâmâŠtestingâŠitâs lewd.â You tried not to be embarrassed as you sat down on his taunt, thick muscular thighs, legs still parted as you situated your cunt against his base once more, âHow did you get that scar?â You prompted him once more.Â
Jungkook seemed to be having an increasingly harder time focusing as he felt it, your cunt making contact with the sensitive underside of his cock, your hips lifting to drag against his shaft, âIt was when we attempted war with Kyoto, I was in the frontlines with the other underlings and an assassin of Kyoto had made his way into the trenches.â
Jungkookâs jaw was clenched as he felt your hand wrap around the head of his cock, giving short as he let out a breathy moan, hand running through his hair, âHe was a full grown man and we were nothing more than boys pretending to be men. His sword longer than us all,â He bit down on his lip at your hand squeezing his cock, your cunt sliding against his base, âHe cut two of the other underlings in half with just one swing, I was almost the third, I had barely managed to jump back in time but the tip of his blade still cut through me, blood was everywhere.â
âHow did you live?â You whispered out, sadness somewhere deep inside you filled your heart through the haze of lust.Â
âJimin had managed to jump on his back,â Jungkook let out another breath moan at feeling your hand drag down his cock, âStabbed him in the neck, he choked on his own blood as they all rushed to get first aid for me. I almost bled out that night but by some miracle they had managed to stop the bleeding and get me stitches.âÂ
Jungkook groaned as his hands curled into fists, pleasure becoming much stronger than it was supposed to, âEnough please.âÂ
The movements ceased, âDoes it not feel good?âÂ
âIt feels too good, I told you to not make me cum.â Jungkook sighed softly in relief as he felt you change positions back to your original, the weight of your body situated once more fully on top of him, âMmm warm my cock.â
âI donât understand how that works.â You whispered out, a bit embarrassed, you were a fast learner but you still didnât know all the ends and outs of how all of this worked.Â
This made Jungkook laugh softly, endeared at your words as he forced his tired eyes back open, âItâs simple honestly, sit on my cock, let it stay warm inside you. Iâll be able to focus and recall events more better that way.â
âReally?â You replied skeptically.
âMhm, what else do you want to know?â Jungkook let a crooked smirk tug on his lips as you grabbed the base of his cock, obediently doing as he told you, the fat head pushing inside you, a noise escaping you both.Â
Slowly you slid down his cock until your hips were flush with his, âMmm, what now?â It was hard to focus now having him stuffing you so full.Â
Jungkook let out a long content sigh, âNothing, this is it. Ask away.â
His hands lovingly stroked your hips as you suddenly struggled to speak, feeling his fat large cock throbbing inside you, walls clenching around him as your arousal dripped.
Jungkook let out an amused breath, âCat got your tongue?â
You shook your head, slowly leaning back down to rest yourself on his chest, but somehow laying made your body feel even more full, âThis one?â Your words were soft, trembled with a quiet whine, fingers brushing over his right bicep, a thin long line curving around it.Â
Jungkookâs hands stroked your waist before trailing over your back, âIt happened during our siege of Prokiev, the battle happened overnight and it was dark out, fire my only source for my fight with their royal guard captain, our adrenaline was running out and we were both ragged, he threw a sloppy blow aiming for my chest but I moved away and back, the edge of his blade managed to pierce right through my chainmail. It wasnât a serious injury.â
Jungkook let out a soft pleasured sigh at your little walls clenching around him, seemingly unable to relax with him buried this deep and unmoving in your cunt, âIt serves as a reminder though.â
âTo what?â You whispered out, setting your head down on his chest, biting down on your lip once more, trying so, so hard to focus on his words and not his cock, it felt like he was completely stretching you out, hitting all the way up into your stomach though surely that wasnât possible.Â
Even if it felt like it was.Â
âThat many want me dead, sharpening their blades that even a shallow cut could one day maim me or better yet kill me. Sometimes I wonder how I survived,â Jungkook murmured, eyes closing as he fought the sleep off, âEach of these scars is proof that Iâm still here, that somehow despite all of the odds, whether it was pure luck, or pure skill, I lived another day. Learned, grew from my mistakes.â
Your eyes had fallen shut, tiredness pulling you into a lull as you felt a blanket being pulled over you, engulfing you in warmth once more.Â
You let out a ghost of a whine at feeling the slightest rut of his hips, cock making sure it was buried as far inside you as possible, Jungkook pressed a kiss against your head, âSomething above let me live, let me marry you, the love of my life.âÂ
Your eyes had become heavier with each passing gentle press of his lips, you had soon fallen asleep to the sweet sensation of his lips feathering your skin, hands stroking your side, cock keeping you full and ushers of love on his lips.Â
While the journey had been safe and overall good travel, to say you were relieved to be in Kimhae was an understatement, the air was cold, but it didnât have that wet sharp feeling it did in Penumbra, and only a bit of frost covered the ground now.
Your thickest layers were shedded during travel as it got warmer much to your relief, more than anything you were ready to see your family, and even more so ready to sleep in a proper bed and rest.
You couldnât voice it aloud to anyone but your thighs were sore from not only riding your horse but also from other nefarious activities late into the night, you were absolutely ready to stand on your own two feet for the next week.Â
Upon entering the gates of Kimhae the sight was familiar enough to you, elegant towering buildings, busy towns people who all seemed to pause from their business at the sight of not just you but your husband, whispers broke out and if your life in Penumbra had helped you with one thing, it was being able to ignore the stares.
Riding next to your husband as you made your way through the capitol until you arrived at the large gates of the palace, the courtyard open and lush, what you hadnât expected was the sight of someone so familiar and yetâŠnow had become a total stranger to you.Â
Kim Seokjin, the man you had once thought was the love of your life, only to realize that this was a feeble, childish type of love, the type of love you think is love until you truly fall in love.Â
He stood tall and proud as his eyes locked onto your figure, standing in white double buttoned vest and long sleeve, royal blue cape cascading behind him dramatically.Â
He looked like something out of a fairytale and you couldnât deny Seokjin was just as handsome as you remembered, clean cut and warm skin.Â
Coming to a stop, your vision of him was somewhat blocked by your husband, and for the first time seeing them almost side by side made you realize just how different they were, Jungkook dawned in all black, hair array from travel and longer then when you had first met, well overdue for a trim.Â
His look, all too familiar, neutral but often coming across as dark and brooding to a person who wasnât well acquainted with him.
And you supposed you must have seemed different from your old self as well, you no longer wore flowery apparel light apparel, now often dawned in black and maroons, today no different though you had gone without the fuss and feathers to make travel easier, a plain black gown with an under layer of red peeping out, sleeves dramatically long but slits having formed to make movement easier, another white long sleeve layer beneath to keep you warm as well as curl up to your neck.
Jungkook had already dismounted his horse, holding his hands out to you as you stood up in your saddle, pulling your leg over before you felt the security of his hands wrap around your waist, lifting you down safely.Â
You offer him a tiny smile of thanks as you turn to face Seokjin, the hand staying curled around your waist however did not go unnoticed by you as you both walked to greet your ex-lover.Â
âSeokjin, I cannot thank you enough for your invitation,â You gave him a soft smile, perhaps a sort of soft spot for him still lingered in your chest, after all, while your love might not have been deep, it was something, and youâd take it for what it was, âItâs been a long time.âÂ
âYes, Iâm relieved to see you alive and well, itâs been too long.â Seokjinâs eyes were locked onto you and only you, and briefly you felt a sort of severed connection.Â
His eyes drilling into you with a sort of passion that you only blinked at with a friendly polite smile, him taking your hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, âTruthfully I donât think enough time has passed.âÂ
Your hand was suddenly snatched away by a much larger one, Jungkookâs expression had quickly gone from neutral to one hundred percent leering and unfriendly, that typical icy Jeon glare as he spoke coldly, âKim Seokjin.â
Seokjinâs eyes burned into the sight, Jungkookâs hand holding onto your own in a sort of protective manner, as if he assumed the manâs kiss to your hand would maim you.
âJeon Jungkook.â Seokjinâs eyes twisted into a glare, but it simply didnât have the same bite as Jungkookâs, âI canât say I remember inviting the Jeonâs.â
âInteresting you say that,â Jungkook replied, a haughty cold look on his face, âGiven one found its way to my wife,â He glanced down at you, a squeeze of his hand on your waist and his hand releasing your own only for his fingers to trace your jawbone, âOnly the most beautiful Jeon.â
Jungkookâs thumb tugged at your lower lip and you couldnât help but shy away from his gaze, somewhat flustered at such an open display of affection, âWhat my husband means to say is weâve come here to represent Penumbra together, I hope this will be the first of many Yuleâs we can all come together and celebrate the Rite of Peace.âÂ
You could tell by Seokjinâs gritted smile that whatever he had anticipated this was not it, it softened however as his eyes landed on you, âFor you, Iâd do anything Y/n.â His gaze became more sharp as they locked back onto Jungkook, â...And I suppose that goes for you as well. I hope your stay in Kimhae treats you well.â
âAs do I.â Jungkook retorted, âNow if youâll excuse us, weâd like to rest after our journey.â
You briefly glanced up at Jungkook, brow furrowing in a little bit of annoyance, you understood that Jungkook absolutely did not like Seokjin in the least, but couldnât he be a little more discreet about it?Â
This being your first public appearance as a couple meant youâd have to be careful how you presented yourselves, if he wanted to quarrel with the man you did not care as long as he did it in private where prying eyes and ears couldnât witness it.
âOf course,â Seokjin almost sneered at him, making you shuffle a bit uncomfortable at seeing the men nearly bearing teeth at one another, âMy head maid will show you to your room.âÂ
Seokjin gave you one last look, and you couldnât quite describe it, it was one of yearning and longing, and yet it wasnât reciprocated as you allowed Jungkook to lead you both into the palace following behind the maid.Â
âWhat was all of that about?â You whispered reprimanding to Jungkook.Â
Jungkook only looked ahead, âHe touched you.âÂ
â...He was being polite.â You reasoned, you had never seen such displays from Jungkook before- well aside from the time Claudin had taken your hand.Â
Come to think of it, you supposed this was less rash then when he pressed a knife into Claudinâs neck for so much as grabbing your hand to kiss, truthfully you should be thankful it didnât escalate so quickly to that.Â
Stepping into your guest room you paused, realizing this was the room you used to stay in when you were a maiden...Seokjin probably still has the route memorizedâŠhad he thought youâd come to Kimhae alone?
You shook the ridiculous notion away as you took your cloak off, Jungkook shut the door to your shared room, âHe touched you.â He emphasized it.Â
You turned around, raising your eyebrows, not understanding what he was getting at, Jungkook huffed, âMen who touch women like that arenât being friendly.âÂ
âIt was my hand!â You pouted, âYouâve touched my hands plenty of times.â
âAnd look where it led.â Jungkook countered as he took his own outer apparel off, âThatâs just the way it goes. And perhaps because I also know youâve sucked his cock-â
âJungkook!â You cried out, embarrassment flooding through you, âDonât say it so loud!âÂ
This made Jungkook chuckle as he sat on the foot of the bed, âHmm, youâve never sucked my cock before come to think of it.â He laughed even louder at suddenly being hit with the cloak you launched at him.
âI am tired and taking a nap, you can either join me or sleep on the floor if you keep being crude.â You kicked your riding shoes off as you pulled the covers curling up in bed, his body immediately beside you, arms wrapping around your waist.Â
âI canât help it,â Jungkook replied, snickering into your shoulder, âYouâre easy to tease.âÂ
#bts#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader smut#prince!jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook x you
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mistletoe meetings | d. ricciardo
merry smutmas - day 1: mistletoe
warnings: 18+ content, pwp/porn with plot, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), light praise kink, slight cliche fluff part-way through.
w.c. 3.5k
the cold-white christmas lights twinkled against the frosted windows of the cozy chalet, casting a glow over the party inside. the air buzzed with laughter and the occasional sound of a beer cap being popped off the glass bottle. the host had outdone themselves; garlands of greenery lined the mantelpiece, candles flickered on every surface, and the star of the show was the 7ft tall christmas tree.Â
admittedly you hadnât planned to come to the party tonight, but a persuasive friend insisted this would be the christmas party, and you wouldnât want to miss it.Â
the sound of a deep, easy laugh broke your train of thought, and you turned in the direction it came from. a man you hadnât seen before was leaned against a counter, holding his beer with his other hand, his face glowing with amusement at something the person in front of him had said. his curls framed his face, and his smile was so genuine it seemed to light up the space around him.Â
your heart skipped a beat when his gaze suddenly moved onto you. it was brief, nothing major, but it was enough to send a light blush onto your face. you turned your face down, the lip of the bottle suddenly became fascinating.Â
âlooking at someone?â your friend teased, magically appearing at your side. jesus.Â
âno,â you replied a little too quickly, the warmth on your cheeks becoming hotter.Â
your friend smirked knowingly at you, âriiight,â she dragged out, rolling her eyes. âwell heâs single, but you donât care about that so..â
the way you perked up wasnât at all subtle, made obvious by your friend snicker at your reaction.Â
before you could tell her off, a burst of gasps came from around the kitchen. you both turned to see two people caught under a mistletoe, looking at each other bewildered. there were cheers, and a few âyou know the rules!!â shouted, in case they had tried to walk off.Â
it took them a moment, but everyone cheered when the two leaned in to kiss each other. your friendly smiled at the sight, but you rolled your eyes.Â
âremind me to avoid that doorway,â you spoke up, causing your friend to give you a gentle nudge as she shook her head.Â
ânuh-uh!â she scoffed, winking at you. âitâs a christmas party, and some fun! plus, i think i know someone youâd like to be under it with,â she raised her brows, causing you to glare at her.Â
you made a mental note to avoid that doorway at all costs, reminding yourself every time you were near it.Â
though as the night wore on, and despite your best efforts to avoid the kitchen, it was almost impossible. especially when your bottle was empty, and you needed another. if you were fast enough, you were sure youâd be able to avoid walking under the mistletoe with someone.Â
you continuously looked left and right as you neared the kitchen, making sure nobody was heading for there at the same time as you. however, you were so caught up that you didnât see the man standing at the entrance of the kitchen.Â
âwoah there,â a deep voice spoke, holding you by the shoulders after you had walked into his chest. âcareful where youâre walking.â
you glanced up startled andâ oh, there he was.Â
the man from earlier, with the loud laugh and bright smile was right in front of you. and the signature smile was on his face once again, and one could argue it was wider this time. the scent of his cologne filled your nose, captivating you in a trance as you stared up at him. his curls were a little messier now, and his cheeks were a little pinker from his alcohol consumption.Â
âsorry! shit, iâm sorry. i clearly wasnât..â you started to ramble, but you trailed off when you noticed his gaze wasnât on you anymore. you followed it up and shit.Â
the mistletoe. hanging right above the two of you.Â
âoh,â you muttered with a gulp. your eyes moved back to danielâs face, and he was already looking at you with a light smirk.Â
âlooks like weâve got ourselves in a little situation,â he spoke up, one of the hands on your shoulders giving it a squeeze, as the other had his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.Â
daniel could see the nervous look in your eyes, and he gave you a wink. âhey, iâm not going to traumatise you with my technique,â he laughed lightly, moving his face closer to your own. as soon as his lips were hovering yours, he muttered a âpromise,â before closing the gap.Â
the kiss was over quicker than you anticipated, and you couldnât believe it butâ you craved a longer one. his soft, plump lips felt amazing against yours, and the tease of his tongue running against them was a pleasant surprise.Â
âsee? harmless,â he said, pulling away with a pleased expression. he extended his hand out, with a âthe nameâs daniel, by the way,â dropping from his lips.Â
you shook his hand in return, giving him your name. he repeated it softly with a soft squeeze to your hand before he let go.Â
âwell, iâll see you around,â he grinned, nodding before he brushed past you and back into the crowd of the lively party.Â
you finally exhaled, not realising you had been holding your breath for so long.Â
the next time you saw him, it was almost too coincidental to be true. a cliche, some might say.Â
you had moved to a quieter corner of the party, chatting with the friend you had came to the party with. you zoned out of the conversation when daniel entered your vision, a grin on his face as he walked towards you.Â
âthere you are! my mistletoe buddy,â he laughed, chasing a small giggle to escape you. you seen your friend gawking in your peripheral vision and oops, you hadnât told her about it. well, at least she knew now.Â
âfunny seeing you here,â you smiled with a raised brow, and daniel gave you a small shrug.Â
âwell, iâd say itâs funnier for that guy up there,â he told you, causing you to frown in confusion. you looked up andâ shit, really?
another mistletoe. there it wasâ a fresh sprig of mistletoe hung directly above you.Â
ânow, you know itâs a tradition,â he winked, making you pout at him. you tried to jest, muttering how traditions were made to be broken, but daniel shook his head. ânope, theyâre made to be honoured.â
you rolled your eyes at him, taking a step closer. daniel took a step closer too, his hand moving to cup your cheek, tilting your head up towards him.Â
âpucker up, buttercup,â he muttered, making you burst into a fit of giggles as you pulled away. âhuhâ what?â
âreally? pucker up, buttercup?â you laughed, and daniel started laughing along too.
âhey! iâm trying to ease the tension,â he muttered, pulling you back in to him again, his thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek softly.Â
the kiss was a little longer this time, daniel tilting his head after a few seconds to get a better angle, trying to memorise your lips. he cheekily nipped at your bottom lip, a surprised but soft whine escaping you before daniel pulled away. he didnât pull away fully though, leaning in and placing a chaste peck on your lips before stepping back.Â
âwell, you know what they say,â he says as he licks his lips, eyeing you up. you tilt your head, beckoning him to go on.Â
âthird timeâs the charm, right?â he winks, taking a few steps back. âand lucky for you, threeâs my lucky number,â he finished, before doing a 180 and delving back into the crowd.Â
âso, when were you going to tell me about this?â your friend exclaims, after struggling to stay silent the full time.Â
and then, it wasnât long before fateâ or the hostâs mischievous decorationsâ brought you together again. admittedly you were trying to leave the party unnoticed, slipping into the back hallway towards the coat rack, when daniel rounded the corner.Â
âgoing somewhere?â he asked, causing you to jump on the spot, head turning to him. you let out an exhale when you seeing it was only him, your body becoming less tense.Â
âwell i wasâ shit nevermind,â you mumble, knowing there was no point lying now you were caught. âitâs getting late, i was going to head.â
âwell, not before one last kiss iâd hope,â he let out, voice pitching up at the end. you looked up and your body slumped when you seen the mistletoe above you, again. Â
âhow does this keep happening?â you ask, half laughing but half seriously askingâ because how?
âhey, i told you three was my lucky number. maybe the universe wants to show you,â he teased, walking to your side.Â
you bit your lip at how close he got so quickly, his cologne once again filling your nostrils and hypnotising you with thoughts of daniel and only daniel.Â
âmaybe.. maybe it is,â you mumbled, taking one more step before there was no more space. your noses were right in front of one another, and you could feel danielâs hot breath against you. his gaze flicked to your mouth before returning back to your eyes.Â
âwill you let me show you?â he asked, voice barely a whisper. you didnât even respond, closing the gap between you both instantly.Â
this kiss wasnât short or playful like the other two had been, this one was different. this one truly meant something. it deepened quickly, danielâs hand moving to your waist as he pulled your front against his own. you lost yourself in the kiss, his lips moving against yours with such ease and confidence that your knees started to feel weak.Â
when you finally pulled apart, danielâs head rested gently upon your own, his breath warm against your cheek.Â
âdonât leave yet,â he muttered, his voice husky. âstay, and iâll show you a good time. i know you havenât had one tonight,â he finished, licking his lips.Â
you pondered for a few moments, before you gave in and nodded. âokay, okay. iâll stay,â you agreed, cheeks heating up at the smile he gave you.Â
âletâs start with getting out this hallway, hm?â he winked, reaching out for your hand and taking it.Â
daniel guided you further into the back, head dipping into rooms to make sure they werenât already occupied. thankfully, it didnât take him too long to find a free room, and he stood to the side to allow you to enter first.Â
âmuch better,â he mumbled, locking the bedroom door before turning round to see you. you were perched on the end of the bed, staring up at him and keeping your gaze on him as he slowly stalked towards you.Â
danielâs hand moved to your hair, gently pushing it back, with a little force so that your head tilted back along with it. âyouâre gorgeous,â he broke the silence, causing your cheeks to blossom with warmth. âi wasnât expecting to meet anyone here tonight, and then i bumped into you. and admittedly, i was hoping weâd keep meeting under that mistletoe.â
you giggled and shook your head, moving your head to the side, but danielâs hand slid down to catch you by the cheek, making you look at him. âdonât hide that pretty face from me,â he let out quietly.Â
danielâs thumb brushed against your cheek again, the touch warm and deliberate. his eyes searched yours momentarily, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch. slowly, he leaned in so his lips were hovering your own.Â
when he kissed you, it was soft and unhurried, now that he finally had you to himself. his lips moved against yours with gentle confidence, his hand still cradling your cheek as he did so. you melted into him, your hands finding their way to the fabric of his sweater, curling into the wooly fabric as you pulled him closer.Â
âyouâre incredible,â he murmured between kisses, his words making your cheeks burn hotter. his other hand slid to your ass, sliding his arm under to lift you further up onto the bed. the pressure of his lips and the way his tongue teased you sent heat right to your core.Â
as your bodies grew closer, the world outside the room disappeared entirely. there was nobody else, no christmas partyâ just daniel. just daniel with his scratchy stubble, warm hands, and his soft, heart-shaped lips.Â
when you pulled back for the first time, you moved so your head was against the pillows, titled right back. daniel moved accordingly. legs at either side of you as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips.Â
âi canât stop looking at you,â he admitted lowly, eyes mapping your body. âyouâre so beautiful, sweetheart.â
his words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, but that wasnât the only reason. daniel moved onto your neck now that you had given him easy access, placing wet kisses all against your skin. your eyes fluttered shut, soft breathe escaping you as he continued to give your neck the attention it needed.Â
his hands trailed down your body slowly, fingers running in different directions before they all ended at the same destination; the hem of your sweater. daniel placed one last kiss to your neck before he pulled back, and you tilted your head round to see him.Â
âcan i?â he asked softly, gently tugging on the hem to give you an idea on what he was talking about. you agreed of course, nodding as you lifted your arms up, allowing daniel to get your sweater off with ease.Â
his eyes raked over you, resting on your chest for the most part but they trailed down your stomach, eyeing the clothed area that was his final goal. he placed a soft kiss on your stomach, before leaving a trail of them upwards and the final one was placed upon your sternum.Â
suddenly, his hands were on each of your breasts, pushing them closer to his face as he littered kisses over each of them. he started with your right, soft lips running over it as he placed the lightest kisses over your skin, moving up towards your nipple before he placed a soft, teasing kiss atop it, moving to your left breast.Â
you shined whined out at the light tease, but you had no reason to fear, as he took a different approach with your left breast. the kisses were a little harsher, there were more biting this time around, and when he trailed his tongue up to your nipple, he swirled his tongue around it in a circle before sucking on it gently.Â
the moan you let out in return was satisfying enough for him, and he pulled back to watch your flushed face. his hands squeezed your breasts softly, and daniel admired you as you writhed at the pleasure that coursed through your body.Â
âperfect.. youâre so perfect,â he told you, thumbs running across your hardened nipples gently. âi canât believe youâve been hiding from me all my life.â
you flushed at the praise, but tried to distract yourself with helping daniel pull off his own sweater. it took a moment to get off his head, his curls bouncing around from the roughhousing which made you both giggle. you only had a short moment to admire his chest, and eye his prominent happy trail before danielâs lips were back on yours.Â
daniel unloosened his belt, throwing it off to the side as he slid his trousers off, and while he done that you got your bottom half undressed too. when you both met again face-to-face on the bed, you were both stark naked, yet your eyes were still glued to each other.Â
he moved closer, his nose rubbing against your own before he placed a soft kiss against your lips. âi want to make you feel so good, sweetheart.â
your hands moved to his head, fingers threading through his curls and tugging them gently. his lips landed on yours again, kissing you softly, delicatelyâ as if youâd break, otherwise.Â
âi need you danny,â you mutter as you pull away, giving him a pleading look. âplease make me feel good,â you tell him, placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.
daniel doesnât need to be told twice, positioning his cock so that his tip was nudging at your entrance. he looked up to you, one last time to silently ask âis this okay?â and when you nodded, he was given the go ahead.Â
daniel pushed himself into you slowly, stretching you out on his thick cock. you couldnât help the string of moans that escaped you as he pushed further into you, filling you up with just him.Â
his eyes wondered to yours, light worry sparking in them. âyou alright?â he asks, waiting until you reply before he dares to move.Â
it takes you a moment as you gulp before letting out a deep exhale through your nose, trying to get used to his size. âyeah iâm⊠iâm okay,â you confirm, giving him a soft smile to reassure him.Â
daniel began to move slowly, but not in a teasing wayâ moreso in a way to make sure you were alright, and could get used to his size at a steady pace. danielâs head fell forward, forehead resting against yours as he thrusted in and out of you.Â
your whines and pants only spurred him on, and he had to hold himself back from going faster. you could tell he was holding back too, so you grabbed his face to pull him in for a kiss. âplease danny, move faster,â you asked desperately, and how could he deny you?
daniel done so as soon as the words left your mouth, speeding up his pace just like you requested. daniel couldnât stop himself from moving his head back to your neck, kissing over the skin as he breathed in your intoxicating scent. he groaned lowly after he inhaled, teeth sinking into the skin of your neck.Â
âyouâ fuck, you feel so good,â he mutters into your neck, nose pressed deeply against it as if he was entranced by the scent of you. âand youâre so beautiful. youâre perfect, and i canât believe we just met,â he continues, kissing your neck and trailing it up your chin, moving to place a passionate kiss on your lips. âgot so much lost time to make up on baby, and iâm going to be in you for most of it.â
danielâs words were hypnotising, the deep grumble of his low accented voice, as well as the power of his words had you inching closer to the edge. you thrusted your hips up against him, desperate to feel more of himâ all of him.Â
âplease dannyâ shit.. need you, need this,â you plead, arms moving around his shoulders so your nails could scrape down his tanned, toned back.Â
âcome on then sweetheart,â he encouraged you, forehead resting against yours again as he started to thrust into you faster, feeling himself get closer too. âfinish for me, show me how much tonight has meant to you,â he whispered, lips crashing onto yours one last time before your orgasm came coursing through you.Â
your body trembled as you couldnât do anything but moan, and whine out danielâs name. your hips continued to buck up as you rode out your orgasm, and that only pushed daniel towards his own. the movements, the sight of you, the pleas falling from your mouthâ it was all too much for daniel to keep it together.Â
daniel is a smart man, he pulls out just before the coil snaps for him. his hand wraps around his aching, bright red cock, stroking it up and down to help him with his orgasm. youâre still in a daze from your own, but through hooded eyes you watch daniel rutting into his own hand, head tiled right back as the cum came out of his cock, slicking up his hand just nicely.Â
after danielâs was over, he slumped forward and fell onto the bed beside you. he turned to you, admiring you despite the flushed cheeks, messy hair and panting chest. he moved his handâ the clean one, obviouslyâ up to your face, pulling you in to give you one last soft kiss.Â
âyouâre absolutely amazing sweetheart,â he told you again, voice hoarse from the noises he had been making just moments before. âand iâm serious when i say i want to see you again, and make up for lost time. iâm drawn to you baby, wonât be able to stop thinking about you.â
you giggle at danielâs words, nodding and moving your face to kiss the palm of his hand that held your cheek.Â
âiâd like that too, danny.â
smutmas taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart <3
#em and di's festive filth#em's fics#em's filth#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo smut#smutmas 2024#f1 smutmas
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Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 3
Someone did ask for the Fatui's opinion on the creator and well, this isn't quite that, but there are a couple of hints.
Warning for spoilers up to 4.6
Masterlist |Prev Part | Next Part
~~~
One of the biggest ironies in your admittedly rather long Genshin playing career was that you were not a âTry Hard,â at least you didnât consider yourself that. You already spend enough time being teased as a lore fanatic and a completionist without adding that title on.
While youâd still level up your characters and try Spiral Abyss every once in a while, as long as they could handle the overworld content you were content.
It wasn't that you didnât enjoy domain farming, not that thereâs much there to enjoy. It was just an odd feeling of discontent when you spent too much time farming for a specific character.
Well, itâs not that odd you supposed. Plenty of people change their main dps all the time when they get bored with a current playstyle.Â
For you, well it happened with supports as well.
Case in point, Zhongli.
The illustrious retired geo archon.
More specifically, his terrible build.
Well, actually the build didnât bother you all that much since you didnât use him very much, but it did bother one of your friends.
For context, that friend is a Zhongli simp so it makes sense that they would complain at your half built Zhongli with missing artifacts and half leveled talents.Â
It didnât matter since you didnât use him.
But you couldnât put your finger on why.
There was just something about him that you didnât feel comfortable using.
Itâs not that you didnât know how to play his kit, that accusation is both untrue and hurtful.
He just felt off.
Actually, itâs not just Zhongli that provokes this feeling.
All the Archons do.
You could always come up with an excuse to bench them almost immediately after getting them.
Ventiâs kit is too reliant on his burst,
Zhongliâs kit is useless if you know how to dodge,
Raiden could be replaced with Fischl,
So on and so forth.
But you know those aren't the truth, not the full truth at least.Â
If you didnât like these characters you wouldnât have pulled for them. But a part of yourself is still uncomfortable with playing them.
Itâs maddening.
Why are you benching perfectly fine characters that youâve spent your hard earned primogems on?
No idea.
Itâs like youâre possessed everytime you try to use them. A small angry part of you just hates them, which would be fine if it appeared before you pulled for them, but it only appears after youâve wasted months of work of saving primogems on a character you wonât use.Â
The entire situation is just so dumb.
You stared at your screen where your wishing team stood.
The newest Fatui Harbinger had just been released and from your playthrough of her trial and story quest, she seems very interesting.
You positioned them outside the house of the hearth and switched over to the wishing page.
It was a bit silly to have a ritual, but you couldnât deny that it was fun to set this up.
A quick check to your primogem counter and you pressed Wish
~~~
The Knave exhaled, watching as her breath condensed into a white puff air in front of her.
Even after all these years, she never truly enjoyed the cold the way a Sneznayan would. However, this time was much different than the other times sheâs made the trip.
If she concentrated, she could feel it, a tiny flame sitting in her chest.
A blessing,
She was never one for worship, her childhood in the house of the hearth had taught her to value strength rather than gods.Â
They beat in obedience to the Tsaritsa of course, as an organization run outside of Snezhnaya, it wouldnât do for the illustrious homeland to doubt their loyalties.
But this was different.
Everyone was quite surprised when rumors of an outlander running across Teyvat started popping up, of course with Signoraâs brief meeting with them, they didnât seem like they were much of a threat, however with Tartagliaâs report following the mission to retrieve the Geo Gnosis, things became much different.
It was clear that their potential to grow stronger was many times that of normal vision holders, and apparently had the ability to pass on that same potential onto others.
It had taken the Mondstatian and Liyuenian agents and embarrassingly long time to realize that those whose abilities had skyrocketed were more than just particularly talented vision holders, and in fact had an actual connection.
Namely the Traveler.
And the fools couldnât even get that part correct since Lyney managed to figure out, within a few days of meeting the Traveler might she add, that they were not in fact that one that granted that potential, or blessing as some have been calling it.Â
It seemed that they werenât sure why this was happening any more than the rest of Teyvat, not that they didn't have their own theories she was sure, everyone has their own secrets and the Traveler seemed particularly adept at keeping their own close to their chest.
It was quite irritating as well, considering how Tartagliaâs battle skills have improved by leaps and bounds since receiving that same blessing.
Not that it helped all that much with their research, considering how battle obsessed the man is, she pitied the poor researchers in charge of getting him to sit down for an examination.
At least he went through it first and satisfied the majority of their curiosity before her children were blessed.
She already had a difficult enough time rejecting Dottoreâs ideas for new collaborative projects they could work on. The last thing she needed was for him to have an actual excuse to get his hands on one of her children.
As good as a poker face Lynette had, Arlecchino could still see through her, it was clear she was worried about how this blessing may impact their operations.
Thankfully it was very little, as she wasnât stupid enough to go around flaunting her newfound strength like other people.
Even so,
She rubbed at her own chest, feeling slightly discomforted by its presence.
It wasnât malevolent, at least not so far.
From the Fatuiâs extensive research it seems to be connected to an ancient god.
The ancient god.
It wasnât something that concerned her until her children got involved, and well.
The information was interesting.
There are still many gaps in their information, which makes sense considering that it spanned the time before human existence.
The creator,
The unknown, unnamed creator of Teyvat.
Arlecchino let out a mirthless chuckle, if things were truly going the way it seemed, well.
Then there'd be no need for Project Stuzha after all.
Her gaze flickered to the side as Fatui members ran around the deck, preparing for docking.Â
It seems that the first leg of this trip was over.
Her boots crunched as she stopped onto the pier, it never truly stops snowing in Snezhnaya.Â
Thankfully she didnât have to stay standing in the elements for long, as there was a prepared automatic carriage waiting, ready to take her to Zapolyarny Palace.
One of Sandroneâs more âusefulâ toys, no horses, no wheels, and heating on the inside as well. It glided on the snow as smooth as can be.
The knave leaned back in her seat, looking as elegant as can be, when in reality her mind was very much in turmoil.
 There would no doubt be many questions for her once she arrived at the palace, questions that she sadly had no answer to.
In all their research it was clear that the blessing was only for those that the Traveler favored, or at the very least those with whom they were on good terms.
Lynette and Freminet were never overt with their Fatui ties when spending time with the Traveler, and their youth made it easy for people to drop their guard around them.Â
Even Tartaglia has his own boyish charm to him, and even he reported that he did not receive the blessing until after the Traveler had seen his softer side, babysitting his brother all day and seeing him sick and vulnerable.
But her,
She never showed such weakness.
While the Traveler did become privy to her past and her connections with her children, she did not view those as weaknesses.
The opposite actually, since their duel had proved that the Traveler had yet to reach her level.Â
Not that it would take long, considering how fast they improved, she wouldnât be surprised if they would be able to give Il Capitano a run for his money soon enough.
This whole affair was made far more frustrating than it needed to be.Â
It just added another layer of complication to an already delicate operation; she's sure that Dottore will try to use as his chance to examine her further to see if this blessing could have any effects on her curse. As if she doesn't know her own bodyâs condition by now.
Regardless, it was of no true concern for her, merely another weapon in her arsenal.
Whom she was truly concerned for was Lyney.
The late bloomer in that little trio, the last one to receive a vision and, it seems in this case, blessings as well.
Not that there was any guarantee that heâd receive a blessing, there were many whoâve met the Traveler and failed to receive a blessing.
Of course the criteria is a bit more strict than that, but there is no true rhyme or reason behind it.
From what theyâve managed to extrapolate, all those who were blessed must have two things in common, a vision and a meaningful interaction with the Traveler.Â
What a frustratingly vague criteria for such a massive boon.
Even so, sheâd seen the glimpse of frustration and jealousy once she revealed that sheâd received hers.
Not that it made that much of a difference, while the blessing is no doubt incredibly beneficial, as sheâd told him before, she didnât choose him for his combat prowess, but for his desire to protect his family.Â
But of course children donât listen.
She expected to have another talk with him soon.
The carriage slowed as it neared the palace, it was still daytime sadly so there was no aurora for her to see, it wouldâve been fitting after all if she could see them on her way back from saying goodbye to Clervie.Â
Sheâll have to stay up late tonight it seems.
Not that she wouldâve been able to sleep early anyways, her coworkers always seem to take joy in piling her up to her ears with paperwork the second her foot touches Snezhayan snow.
How terribly tedious.
Arlecchino could not stifle the sigh when she saw exactly who greets her at the gates.
Standing here, ignoring all the gawking soldiers was no other than the youngest of them. Wearing his winter coat he waves at her eagerly, clearly excited.
She could already foresee where this was going.
She shuts off his train of inquiry with a sharp âNo,â the second he opened his mouth.
He pouts, following after her as she strides into the palace, her heels clicking.
âYou didnât even hear me out,â he complained, keeping pace with her.
âI already know what you were about to say, and see no interest in entertaining this train of thought,â
He sighs, dramatically, âIâve never had the chance to spar with another Blessed before, can you blame me for being excited?â
âYou have sparred with the Traveler on a couple of occasion if I recall correctly,â
âThatâs different and you know it,âÂ
Still it seems that he is not willing to pressure her on the issue any longer, perhaps he is finally gaining some much needed maturity, or that her displeasure with the situation is showing more than sheâd prefer.
Still that does not seem to stop him from gawking at her like a new toy.
âYou donât seem particularly pleased with your blessing,â he said, after a short pause.
The Knave lets her silence speak for her,
âYikes, and considering Dottore was so hopeful that heâd get one when he made his trip to Sumeru. Using his original segment no less,â
âWhat that man wants is of no concern to me as long as long as it does not involve me,â
âStill, the Tsaritsa hasnât made any proclamation about these blessings, makes me wonder what sheâs planning,âÂ
âIâm sure her majesty has her one plans in place,â she replies noncommittally,
âIâm sure she does, after all two of her Harbingers have already been blessed, think of how much more powerful the Fatui would be if more of us were,â
âYou sound as if you wish for our fellow Harbingers to share this same blessing,âÂ
âWell, wonât that be a sight. Imagine the Fatui Harbingers traveling across Teyvat to get into the good graces of the Traveler.â
âIt sounds like the premise for one of those Inazuman light novels,â she commented lightly
âRight!â Tartaglia snickered to himself, before the two settled into a pensive silence.
âYou never answered my question you know, and I donât mean the one about a sparâ he defended, raising his arms in a gesture of innocence.Â
The Knave stopped, causing him to stop too.
Usually she wouldnât entertain his questions, but
This one was poignant.Â
Why did she feel so unsettled by this blessing,Â
Well the answer was simple,
âPower does not come without a price, just because the price for this power has not revealed itself yet, does not mean Iâm willing to relax my guard.â
Tartagliaâs mouth opened and closed a couple times, he didnât seem to have a response for her.Â
When it became clear to him that she wasnât about to move and that their conversation was over, he excused himself, heading to his wing of the palace.
She turned her gaze to one of the nearby windows, she could barely see her reflection in the clear glass, her blood red eyes stared back at her, a constant reminder of her bloodline and powers.
Beyond that it was simply the frozen tundra that was Snezhnaya, whirling winds and snow, nothing but an empty expanse of white.
But for a moment, between blinks, she couldâve sworn she saw someone.
A figure,
Then they were gone.
She knew there was someone there, but she couldnât for the life of her remember what they looked like.Â
Were they tall or short,
Male or female,
What clothes were they wearing, or even what color,
Nothing.
It seems that the stress of traveling had caught up to her.
She scanned the landscape again,
Nothing.
Still white and pristine and untouched, no sign of any human disturbance.Â
How very odd.
~~~
Masterlist |Prev Part | Next Part
~~~
A Taglist For those who've requested it!
@bunniotomia, @lucid-stories, @ymechi
Pls tell me if i'm doing this correctly.
If you'd like to be added feel free to send me an ask!
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Let Me Love You
Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut, established relationship, 18+ only (MDNI)
Summary: You just want to shower Cheol with all the love and softness in the world and heâs determined to do the same.
Warnings: sickening fluff, big dick!Cheol, porn with plot, very brief wrist pinning, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), allusions to subspace, multiple orgasms, back scratching, grinding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe kids), creampie, bulge kink, begging, swearing, dirty talk, hair pulling, marking, pet names, crying during sex (only cause the dick is so good but not mentioned as a kink), just them being so madly in love. Lmk if i missed smth!
WC: 5.3k
Note: completely self indulgent because iâm down BAD for Cheol. Plus, I really do believe in getting your boyfriend flowers too. I know Cheol would just LOVE it.
âWhat are these?â Seungcheol started the moment your face appeared on his screen, waving the bouquet in his hands
âWell hello to you tooâ you greeted, âand those are flowersâ
âFor?â
âFor you, sillyâ you smiled, leaving a very dumbfounded Seungcheol on Facetime. His brows knitted together even more, eyes questioning your answers and the fact that youâre so nonchalant about it all.
Just 10 minutes ago, one of the staff handed him a buoquet of flowers when they called for lunch break during rehearsals and had told him it was from you
âOoooh, Coups hyung has floooowersssssâ DK had teased, only to call the attention of all 12 boys much to Sungcheolâs chagrin
While Joshua complimented the pretty pink wrapper and yellow ribbon that wrapped around the lilies and carnations, the rest of the boys teased their leader playfully. With Seungkwan even threatening that Cheol might have forgotten an important anniversary date of sorts and this was your way of expressing passive agression.
That was when Seungcheolâs overthinking went into overdrive. He was about 500% sure that wasnât it, he never forgets milestone dates with you, but then again he had been very busy the past few weeks as they geared up for their Japan comeback. Maybe, just maybe, he did forget something which is why he quickly ran to his studio, flowers in hand and your facetime already on dial, his lunch long forgotten.
âJagi, iâm being serious hereâ
You giggled at the sight of your boyfriendâs pout, âI am being serious too! Those are for you, baby. Didnât you read the card?â
âI did! But is this a prank? Did I do something wrong? I didnât forget a date, did i? Are you mad atââ
âWoah woah, Cheol, slow downâ you interrupted, âiâm not mad. You did nothing wrong. Am i not allowed to simply get my baby some flowers?â
âUhh⊠yes??â He responded, the statement sounding more like a question
âYes, iâm not allowed?â
âYesâ i mean, no..â Seungcheol stuttered, âwell, okay but why?!â
âJust because!â You shrugged on screen, highly amused by the confusion written all over your boyfriendâs face
âBut baby, iâm supposed to get you flowers, not the other way aroundâ he explained, admittedly feeling a tiny bit emasculated by the fact you got him flowers. He was used to getting flowers when they won awards or attended shows but no one has actually ever given him flowers for him alone
âHey now! There is no such rule that only boyfriends can give flowers! I personally believe that boyfriends deserve getting flowers too!â
Seungcheol was opening his mouth, about to retaliate when you interrupted him once more, albeit softer this time, âCheollie, those are for you. From me. I know youâve been busy and tired lately, so i thought sending you some flowers might brighten up your day⊠the same way mine always does when you get me someâ
He glanced at the buoquet of flowers sitting on his desk and then at you, the sweetest smile on your face and your eyes filled with love and thatâs when it really hit him that this truly was a genuine gesture from you. You saw through the screen how a light blush slowly crept on his cheeks, his face shifting from that of confusion to being flustered.
âSo⊠t-theyâre really for me?â
âMhmm.. all yoursâ
The shyest smile erupted from your boyfriend, the crinkles on his eyes appearing, âi love you baby. Thank you for these.â
Cheol held the flowers close to him, inhaling the sweet scent of lilies and actually giving the flowers a good look this time, noticing that it was actually big enough to cover his face and then some more. He loved the flowers you picked and the foliage accents that came with it, noting that you thought hard about what to put together to suit his liking.
âI love you too, baby. Iâm proud of you.â You reminded
If he wasnât a flustered mess awhile ago, then he surely is now. Itâs not every day he gets treated like this, and when he thinks about how most boyfriends donât actually get treated like this, his heart skips a beat at just how special he feels to have you in his life, simultaneously making a mental note to return the favor and give you all his love too.
âCheol?â You called out, stepping out of your shoes and dropping your keys by the bowl near the door. It was late but for Seungcheol to be home at this time was still considered early. It was usual for rehearsals these days to stretch into the wee hours of the night.
You cleared your throat again as you stepped into the kitchen where Seungcheol was humming along with the soft r&b music that flowed through the speakers, his attention being occupied by the whole chocolate cake he was pulling out the box
âJagi!â He exclaimed loudly, arms already opening wide and approaching you for a big hug. Your feet lifted off the ground as Seungcheol effortlessly picked you up and peppered kisses all over your face, reducing you to a giggly mess
âSomeoneâs in a good moodâ you mused as he sat you on the counter with one sweet kiss on your lips and his arms still around your waist, âand youâre home earlyâ
âMhmm. Told the boys i needed to do some damage control after you sent the flowersâ
âCheol, weâve been over this, you didnât doââ
âI know, i knowâ he squeezed you where his hand rested on your hips, âi just said that to get me out earlyâ a proud grin on his face.
âBabe!â
âWhat? Itâs okay⊠you know they hate it when i get sulky when weâre fighting. They basically kicked me out of thereâ
âBut thatâs a lie! Weâre not fighting, and youâre definitely not sulkingâ
âThey donât need to know that. And itâs okay, we had perfected the dance alreadyâ your boyfriend smirked, just happy he finally got some time with you before bed âcmon, thereâs lots to doâ
âYeah? Like what?â
âLike cutting this cake i bought for youâ a sheepish smile on his face, âi tried to go get you flowers too but by the time i got there, they were closing down and didnât have your favorite ones, so i got the next best thingâ
You cupped your boyfriendâs cheeks, erasing the pout that formed during his explanation, âmy favorite chocolate cake is most definitely the next best thing, and besides, you didnât even have to get me flowers, honey. Could you please just let the flower giving today be for you? I just want to shower you with random gifts too without you having to do anything back. Just let me love you, pleaaaase?â
With a scrunched nose, Cheol buried his face on your chest, âi donât knoooowâ he whined, âjustâ just maybe not in front of the boys again? Your gifts make me shyâ
The laugh you let out was boisterous and loud and shook the whole of your body, âaww, did the leader get teased by his members today?â
âYes. And it was NOT fun! Mingyu even got mad at me before i left, told me i needed to learn to say sorry first when we have fightsâ
You cooed at your boyfriendâs words, always happy to know that his members also had your back whenever they think Seungcheol did something bad to you
âHey, but isnât that the same train you rode on to get out of work early today?â
âYes, but i didnât want to be teasedâ he sulked
âOkay, big boy. No more flower deliveries in front of your brothers next time. Now, can we please eat that cake already?â
The treat right next to you was calling your name, it had been your favorite since you were in university and when Seungcheol had quickly discovered that if there was one sure fire way to get your spirits up, it would be a slice of that chocolate cake, he always made sure to get it for you on every celebration and apology. He delicately transfered a massive slice onto a plate before feeding you a forkful of it, a smile on his face watching you devour it as your legs happily swayed from the counter.
This, right here, in this kitchen with you and your cake and him and his flowers is what itâs all about, Seungcheol thought.
âBabyâŠâ your boyfriend started shyly, âwill you help me fix my flowers?â
âOf course, my love. How do you want them?â
âIn a vase, on my bedside tableâ he answered without hesitation âso that i can see it right away when i wake upâ
âWow, looks like you havenât thought this through at all, huh?â You teased, happy to know that the flowers were a successful gift
âYou canât blame me! Theyâre so pretty!â
A deeper blush painted Cheolâs cheeks, he hated to admit it but he did absolutely love the flowers you got him. To him, it was ultimately the nicest random gesture heâs ever gotten from someone he loved. Now he understood why youâ and most girlsâ loved receiving flowers.
The both of you fell into a comfortable conversation as you arranged his flowers nicely in a vase while he fueled you with never ending forkfuls of cake.
When you had both retired to the bedroom, dishes cleaned in the kitchen and lights turned off, you happily set the vase of flowers on his bedside table like he asked
âIs this okay?â
âMhmm.. more than okayâ Seungcheolâs strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, âtheyâre beautifulâŠâ his lips ghosted on your neck as he admired the light colored petals
âYouâre beautiful.â He said just slightly above a whisper with a wet open mouthed kiss on your neck
Your breath hitched when you felt him suck at the spot just below your ear, the air in the bedroom suddenly feeling hot and heavy. Sungcheol flattened his wet tongue on the spot to soothe it but only to resume sucking on it again. The repetitive motion surely leaving a bruise on its wake and making you weak on the knees as your hands gripped on his arms around your waist for support
âYou like that, baby?â A low growl rumbled through his chest that sent tingles right between your legs
You wanted to say yes but all you could muster was a nod
âWords, babyâ
âYes!â You exhaled in a rush, rubbing your thighs together for reprieve
Your boyfriend squeezed your waist tighter, teasing âwant more?â
You eagerly nodded, not one to waste time. Given Cheolâs schedule and your fair share of busy days in the office, itâs been a while since you both had been intimate
âI said, i need wordsâ
âCheollie, p-pleaseâ you whimpered so desperately
Luckily for you, Seungcheol had missed feeling you too and didnât plan to tease you so much tonight. He pushed you onto the bed, and with way too much force, his hands pulled your dress shirt open, sending buttons flying to different directions
âCheol!â You shrieked, but he couldnât care less.
As one hand worked on getting you out of the blouse, his other hand skilfully unhooked your bra, exposing your breasts to him. You saw him lick his lips before hungrily diving in for your left nipple sucking and kissing and biting while his other hand all but traced the area around your right nipple lazily. The contrasting experience your breasts got had you writhing under his weight and clawing at his back to pull his own shirt off him
âBabe!â You called out loudly, snapping Seungcheol out of boobie land, âyour shirt! Off! Please!â
A devilish smirk flashed on his face at your demand, he really loved it when you used your words in the bedroom. It had been something heâd taught you to do early on in your relationship when he realised youâd been biting your lips so much just trying to hold back from saying anything. He liked to hear you say what you want and did not want, and he especially loved it when you were being loud.
He reached over at the back of his shirt to pull it off in one swift motion, throwing the white oversized tee to the ground. Your eyes grew larger at the sight of his bare chest but before you could even do anything, his hand had snatched both your wrists and pinned them above your head
âHappy?â He asked, his biceps flexing above you as his eyes turned a few shades darker
âNoâ was the answer that came out of your mouth that shocked your boyfriend, âi want you to kiss meâ you challenged
He didnât need to be told twice. His lips latching onto yours immediately with fervor, happy to have found that you had already given access for his tongue to explore your mouth. There was no point in fighting for dominance, you were happy to submit yourself to Cheol, happy to just be held and loved by him after a while. With every move he made, the more wetness pooled in your panties, and as you lifted your hips to gain some friction, Seungcheol was quick enough to push your hips back down to the mattressÂ
"Easy, baby. Don't worry, I got you" he assured, finally giving you a chance to refill on oxygen and tangle your hands in his hair when your wrists were set free
He trailed down your body, covering every inch of your torso with wet open kisses, each second that held him back from where you wanted him just driving you crazy. And he knew this. You knew he knew it too, with the way he stopped right above the hemline of your pencil skirt only to look up to you with the most lust filled eyesÂ
"Baby, please... I need you right now"Â
"Nuh uh" he chastised, his hands working on sliding the zipper down, loosening up your skirt so he could take it off you. "Need to taste you first" He said with another growl that has once again caused wetness to rush in your cunt
In a most lewd act, you stared dumbfounded at your boyfriend who buried his nose on your covered pussy, taking a deep inhale all while his eyes remained on yours, "You smell so fucking good, i can't wait to devour you"Â
And devour you, he did. Your panties coming off in record time, his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking like it was the last piece of lollipop on earth. His teeth grazed at the sensitive bud before soothing it with a kiss and a hard suck, something he knew would make your eyes roll back. When you felt his finger travel up your slit, a strangled moan ripped out your throat, making your boyfriend smirk like a mad man.Â
"God baby, you're so wet, you'll suck my fingers right in"
You would've disagreed if you didn't just hear the squelch that reverberated in the room when Seungcheol dipped his middle finger in your hole. Barely five pumps in and he thought it enough to already add a second digit, making your back arch off the mattress and tears prick in your eyes. A tight knot in your stomach making itself felt as you smiled, missing the feeling of an oncoming orgasm.Â
"Fuck, Cheol!" you said through gritted teeth, the sensation of his fingers massaging your walls and his thick lips tugging at your clit was nothing short of heaven. His long fingers grazing the rough velvety spot inside you was enough to make you see stars
"Babe, I-i.. W-won't last l-long" You warned, the knot on your abdomen coiling as tight as the grip you had on his scalpÂ
"Hold on a little more, yeah?" your boyfriend requested, a determined look on his face when he looked up at you, a slight sheen on his face, "I Haven't even gotten a full taste yet"Â
"THEN HURRY THE FUCK UP, CHEOL!" You screamed, slamming your fists on the bed, making Seungcheol laugh at your frustrationÂ
"YES, MAAM!" he agreed, pulling his fingers out of you to form a perfect salute right before he sucked your juices from his fingers. Your whine at the loss of contact however, had quickly transformed into a moan when his wet tongue dove into your cunt. The slurping sound he produced being the most unholy thing you've heard tonight.
"FUUUUUUCK" You drawled out, shaking helplessly as you fought so hard to hold the orgasm that was begging to explode. You were right there, teetering off the edge. Â
But the idiot below you had other plans, detaching his mouth at the exact moment you were ready to fall. A struggled sob racked through you. The knot that was so tight started to feel like it was moving away.Â
"Cheooool" You scolded pathetically with a whimperÂ
"You taste like honey" He declared proudly above your pussy, the widest grin plastered on his face. It would've been innocently cute if he just wasn't glistening with your juices and if he didn't just deprive you of the one thing you've been longing for for weeks now.
"I wanna cum" you sobbed. It was supposed to come out like a bratty demand, but alas, that attitude can only last so long. "Please baby... let me cum"Â
Bless Seungcheol's tongue, you thought. Because as quickly as the feeling went away, so did its return. And this time, with twice the intensity. He licked a fat stripe on the expanse of your pussy, stopping to swirl by your clit before diving back down to your hole.
It was when his thumb drew circular motions in sync with his tongue that you truly felt delirious
"Cum for me, baby" He said just above a whisper but it's all you heard. In mere seconds, the dam broke and your orgasm hit you like a wall, knocking the air out of your lungs and blacking your vision.
Your body shook and your thighs trembled, trapping Seungcheol's head in between. You wanted to push him away, fearing the overstimulation that you knew was fast approaching, but you were so far gone, like you had just ran 5 marathons straight. All while he was happily lapping up every single drop you were willing to give. Your orgasm seeming to last wave after wave sending you to a place only Choi Seungcheol could.
"Cheol, what the fuck was that?" You whimpered when your senses started kicking in and his face was now inches from yoursÂ
He hummed at the sex-crazed look on your face, "hmmm. just the best meal of my life" proudly grinning once again before kissing you on the lips
You moaned in agreement, tasting yourself on him, your brain still reeling from the orgasm you just had. Your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss when you started to feel the sensation of your limbs again. Admittedly, you were exhausted to your very core, but when you felt your boyfriend's painfully hard cock against your thigh, it's like your body willed itself to reenergize.Â
Seungcheol felt your fingernails trace his spine, his jaw going slack at the sensation, allowing you enough chance to have your tongue explore his mouth. He loved it when you scratched and traced his back. And he surely loved kissing you. As morbid as it was, he always said that he could immediately die after making out with you and he would die a happy man. So lost in the feel of your mouth on his, he slightly jumped when he felt you palm his cock through his sweats.Â
"Babe" he reprimanded, creating a small space between your bodies
"Cheollie" you whined, "you haven'tâ you haven't even..."
He chuckled incredulously at your words, surprised you still had it in you to go another round after he surely witnessed you cross another dimension from a long overdue orgasm, "Baby, it's okay. You're exhausted, and I can take care of this myself. Just want to make you feel goodâŠ. Jusâ wanna love you"
"Then do it" You replied breathlessly, "Make love to me, Cheol"Â
Your bedroom smelled of sex but when Choi Seungcheol looked at you, your eyes big and doey, full of love more than lust, the brightest smile grew on his face, his cheeks almost hurting. He couldn't even mask it if he wanted to. It's like time had momentarily stopped for him as you laid there bare against his body, caged in between his arms, face inches just away from yours that he could feel your every breath tickle his lips. His heart was exploding with so much love and care and happiness that he could hear his own heartbeat sync with yours. Make no mistake: your bedroom smelled of sex, but in that moment, there was nothing but pure love in that room.Â
"y/n, are you sure?" He asked one more time, cupping your cheek to make sure you were back to reality and you would answer him consciously.
You nodded softly at his words, your own hand coming to hold his, "Yes, I need you to make love to me, Cheol" you repeated loud and clear and with conviction, your hands pulling at the material of his sweatpants to get it off him
Seriously, his cheeks were hurting from smiling too much as he helped you get himself out of his boxers next. Your mouth immediately salivating at the sight of his dick slapping hard against his stomach. His tip was an angry shade of red, leaking with precum and god you just wanted so badly to suck him off. But that would be reserved for another time, maybe in the morning, you thought.Â
"I love you, baby" were the words that came out of his mouth when he once again lay atop of you, grinding his cock on your pussy to coat it with your slickÂ
"i love you, too" You said with a whince when you felt his tip breach your entrance.Â
"Breathe, jagi. Breathe." Seungcheol reminded you as he slowly entered you with every inch. Sure he had just given you the best foreplay of your life, but he knew himself that his fingers were only a fraction to the size of him. He especially knew that it had been awhile since you both had sex so the initial pain was definitely to be felt. His eyes were trained on your face and he noticed every sharp inhale, every shudder and whince, and every lip bite you did as you patiently took on his hard cock, knowing that soon enough the pain would turn into immeasurable pleasure. Seungcheol was breathing loudly as he continued pushing in slowly, hoping to get your breath to sync with his.Â
"Doing so good for me, jagi" he whispered repetitively into your ears.Â
When he finally bottomed out, he stayed completely still for you, feeling your nails claw at his back as if finding something to ground yourself ontoÂ
"I'm right here, y/n. Right here." He reminded you with a call of your name, resting his chin on the crook of your neck which ought to do the trick for you. You were lucky enough to have your boyfriend know you like the back of his hand. It's what made sex with him always so intimate and sacred despite the very dirty things he was actually doing to you.Â
"Cheollie, please move" You whimpered when you couldn't take the stillness anymore
Your boyfriend grinded on you to make sure of your request and when you moaned out his name in pleasure, he was assured you had asked him correctly. Seungcheol withdrew his full length, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you before slamming back in. The motion alone sending you higher on the mattress which made him grunt at the sight.Â
"Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight" He groaned, the feeling of your walls fluttering on his cock just sending him into a craze of thrusting in and out of youÂ
You could feel every vein on his cock, as he pumped continuously. His balls slapping against your skin just adding to the lewd noises that your pussy was making as it took in all of your boyfriend's girthy length.Â
He dipped his head low and captured your right nipple on his mouth during one particular thrust of his cock and the overwhelming feeling had your back arching off the mattress for the nth time that night, tears once again pricking your eyes at how good everything just felt
"B-babe.." you struggled to form words, "Ha..Hardâharder please!" You rushed outÂ
He was done teasing you awhile ago, now, he was going to make love to you like you so politely asked.
"what my baby wants, my baby gets" Seungcheol said assuringly, like he was rallying a battalion of soldiers. In one swift motion, he hooked your right leg on his shoulders and thrusted in you so deep, a string of profanities leaving your mouth as your second orgasm washed over you without so much as a warning. You were rendered so speechless that your boyfriend couldn't help but chuckle
"Fucking you so good, you can't even tell when you're cumming huh?" He said with a cocky smirk on his face, completely driving you insane.Â
You wanted to form words, tell him how good he was, how good you felt, how you wanted to stop to process what just happened, but also needed more, but all your brain could do was form incoherent noises. This only prodded Cheol to grind his body on yours, leaving open mouthed kisses on your face and lips as you tried to make sense of that orgasm that came out of nowhere
âYou like this baby? Like my cock inside your tight pussy?â he continued, reveling at the fact that he had just made you cum for the second time that night
Your boyfriend hooked your other leg on his shoulder to effectively fold you in half with every thrust, hitting you so deep that you could feel him in your cervix.
"Cmon baby, one more yeah?" He asked with a deep groan.You couldn't even deny him of his favor, not when the new angle he's put you on already had another orgasm forming in your stomach so quickly.
He would deliciously shift between thrusting and grinding, you simply thanked the heavens you had a boyfriend who knew how to move his body so well.Â
You experimentingly pressed your hand on the bulge that formed on your stomach where his cock would hit and in a flash, Seungcheol felt his own orgasm hot in his heels. He was so focused in making you feel good tonight that he forgot just how much he needed to cum too. The sight of him so deep in you, your boobs bouncing with every thrust, it was the perfect recipe to just drive him off the edge.Â
"Babeâ Baby... I won't last..." He tried to say, his attention focusing on hitting your gspot with every thrust to get you there with himÂ
"I- I know babe" you confirmed, not a stranger to the way his hips would stutter and his left brow would rise when he was about to come undone
You tightened your hold on him, your pussy sucking him in so tight making it harder for him to withdraw. He loved feeling your hole spasm. You brought him down to you by the neck, your mouth latching onto his collar bone to suck intently, willing it to turn purple by tomorrow. Cheol whimpered at the sensation, feeling delirious himself.Â
"Babeâ"Â
"Cum in me, Cheollie" you interrupted him, "Give me all your love"Â
Like magic words, Seungcheol came undone, his warm seed painting your walls white as he panted for air. His orgasm lasted so long that it set off your third one. Your cum mixed together as you both trembled from your own highs, whispering sweet nothings to each other.Â
When he felt his toes finally uncurl, he collapsed onto the bed but not without rolling you on top of him so that he was still inside you. You could already feel your mixed sticky cum slowly leak out your pussy and onto his thighs but you couldnât bother for now. You just wanted to stay close to Cheol as much as possible, ghosting your lips at the expanse of his chest, leaving lovebites in your wake.
After sex cuddles with your boyfriend was always like getting your favorite dessert after a hearty meal. And you knew this one would be extra special, especially after having such an intimate time together after so long. Not to mention the precious after care Seungcheol would shower you with in a few minutes.Â
"I love you, jagi" you said, using the nickname he uses for you on him and adoring the happiness that adorned your boyfriend's face
His eyes smiled at you, holding you tight against his chest, "I love you too, baby"Â
A cold bed was not what you expected to wake up to after the night you just had with your boyfriend, but it seems that at 6:32am, when you finally shut off your alarm, and decided to open your eyes, it was what you were greeted with. Cheol wasn't in his spot. You groaned audibly, annoyed at the fact that you woke up alone, but moreso because everything just felt sore down there. You knew Cheol hadn't left for work yet, his phone was still on his bedside table.
Speaking of the bedside table, it looked awfully empty and that's when it hit you: His vase of flowers were gone. Did he suddenly hit them and break the vase? Surely, you would've heard it shatter to the floor if that was the case. The sudden curiosity in your mind was enough to get you out of bed, albeit, wincing at every step you took down the stairs.
"Baby?" you called out when you heard Cheol's distant hummingÂ
"Kitchen, my love"Â
You caught him redhanded as you entered the kitchen, half of his flowers outside the vase while he tried to rearrange the other half that's left in it. A sheepish smile on his face, "Good morning"Â
"Hmm... morning" You grumbled, immediately gravitating to his side to get some warmth, your face burrowing on his chest, "I wanted to wake up beside you" you complainedÂ
"Sorry, baby. I just got used to leaving so early for work"Â
"But you don't start until later at 9am you said. So why didn't you stay in bed?" You countered, not even caring that you were now full on whining like a kid throwing a tantrumÂ
Your boyfriend felt bad but not as much as he was enjoying your little fitÂ
"Sorry, baby" He said again, turning you to face him while he cupped your cheeks with his large hands, leaving a quick peck on your forehead "it's just that when i woke up the first thing i saw were your flowersâ my flowers. And then I looked at you and I was just so happy, I can't even explain it. Like nothing could ruin my day. So I took the vase cause I want to transfer some of them. I'll leave half of them on my bedside table, and the other half i'll put in another vase I can bring to work and place in my studio. That way, i'll be reminded of you⊠and then work won't feel so gloomy after all" he grinned, more than proud of his wonderful idea.
With the way Seungcheol enthusiastically explained his plan, you couldn't be mad. It tugged at your heart strings how happy the simple gesture of gifting him flowers was. You pinched his cheeks softly, endeared at the handsome, happy face smiling back at you. "I love you, Cheol"Â
If every night ended up like last night and your boyfriend was this excited every day he got flowers, you made a mental note to make a subscription at the flower shop for flowers delivered especially for Choi Seungcheol.
#svt#svt x reader#seventeen#seventeen x reader#scoups#seungcheol#svt imagine#seventeen imagine#svt fic#seventeen fic#seventeen one shot#svt one shot#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#scoups fic#seungcheol fic#scoups fluff#seungcheol fluff#paula writes âš#I NEED ME A SCOUPS đ©#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#paula writes smut#paula thots#Let Me Love You
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âPEACE OF MIND
summary â when carmen finds out that you're putting yourself in danger to come in to your waitressing job at the bear, he admittedly gets pissed. he's not super proud of his reaction, but the two of you manage to work something out to ease his worries.
warnings â swearing, mentions of customers being assholes, the implication that if reader isn't being fed at the restaurant she doesn't eat due to money reasons, very brief mentions/implications of the possibility of reader being attacked at night
pairing â carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, not established relationship
pronouns â she/her, reader is HEAVILY implied to be female, also there's technically no pronouns in this one but i consider this to be the same waitress reader as my last one which does have pronouns
word count â 1.9k
note â this can 10000% be read as a standalone but i do have another carmy x waitress fic here that i think takes place kinda in the same universe if you wanna check that one out?? i hope u enjoy <333
If you were somebody who wasnât a fan of the cold, then Chicago wasnât the city for you. Itâs one of your least favourite parts of living in Illinois, having to wear four layers to bed if you don't want to freeze in your sleep. Your apartment doesnât have proper heating because proper heating is for rich people, apparently. You barely make enough to afford rent as it is.Â
Youâre doing fine. You make rent and utilities, you eat lunch and dinner at the restaurant most days. Youâre not swimming in gold coins by no means, but youâre fine. Thatâs the reason you show up early to every single shift, if youâre being honest, youâre guaranteed at least a sandwich.Â
The fact that it makes you look like a dedicated employee doesnât hurt either.
Even when you have to trek from the train platform after getting off the L. Youâre not the first person punching in the code to the service entrance that afternoon, but the kitchen is free of yelling. Sydneyâs at the end of the line, itâs her shift for Family, and she flashes you a smile as you shove your duffel into your locker.
Itâs not raining outside but the air is so cold and damp outside, and you dab your face with a towel. The kitchen is so much warmer than outside that for a moment itâs uncomfortable. Sydney watches you out of the corner of her eye as she sautes a collection of vegetables. âAre you alright? Is it wet out there?â
You shake your head, grabbing your apron and using the mirror you hung up on the back of your door to fix your appearance. âJust cold, sorry. Iâll be fine. You get in okay?â
Sydney nods, holding out a spoon for you, hand cupped to prevent anything from landing on the floor. You donât question it, opening your mouth and accepting the sauce while trying to minimise the contact between your mouth and the spoon as much as possible. âFuck, thatâs good. Is there sesame oil in there?â
You didnât know a whole lot about food if you were honest, thereâs a reason that youâre not a member of the kitchen staff. But Sydneyâs been teaching you slowly but surely how to recognise different flavours, which ones go best together, which ones donât.
Her eyes light up. âYes! You like it?â
You shut your locker, moving to stand right behind her. Your chin lands on her shoulder, watching the way she rotates her medley of ingredients. You and Sydney have started becoming actual friends rather than just work friends, the two of you went out to dinner last Sunday, miraculously neither of you had to work. âLove it, need any help?â
âNo, youâre all good. Go find Richie, Iâm sure he needs help with whatever shit heâs doing.â
You leave her alone with a squeeze on the elbow, heading out into the dining room to find Richie. Richie isnât out there but you do find Carmen pulling the chairs off the tables. You donât bother talking, you and Carmen both appreciate the quiet in a workplace as loud as the restaurant. The second you put the first chair down Carmen is flinching. âYouâre early,â he says, trying not to show his irritation.
Heâd left the kitchen to feel productive while being alone, but he doesnât want to yell at you. You deal with that enough. Yelling in the kitchen is natural, itâs fucking loud in there. If he doesnât yell, he doesnât get heard. People arenât moving fast enough, people arenât using proper technique, theyâre running out of ingredients, things are being moved. If Carmen didnât yell in the kitchen it would probably burn down somehow.
You deal with all that and you have to keep a smile on your face. You get yelled at for mistakes that other people make, and you never yell back. You take it all and yeah, sometimes you need to step out into the kitchen with tears in your eyes, but you cop it all and you go back out there.
You donât need Carmy yelling at you as well.
You shrug casually, smoothing the tablecloth. âI am a slave to the public transit system.â Itâs less embarrassing than admitting youâre trying to save money by eating at work whenever you can.Â
Carmen stops at that. He doesnât know why thatâs surprising to him. Heâs always here before you and heâs always here after you leave. He assumed heâd never seen your car in the parking lot because of that, but apparently, itâs because you donât have one. âYou took the train here?â
Itâs early afternoon and people are turning their headlights on already. The closest train station is a fair walk away and itâs freezing out there.Â
You nod, not taking much notice of the change in tone. âYeah, I usually do.â
Carmenâs abandoned the table heâs dressing to turn around and look at you. Itâs almost completely dark outside, itâs the middle of winter. âYou walk to work?â
You look up at him. âYeah, Carm.â Youâre really hoping heâll drop it, but he doesnât seem to pick up on the way you avoid looking at him.Â
âThatâs so fucking dumb,â he doesnât mean to snap, but the mood in the room is frozen now. âItâs like two degrees out there, why the fuck would you do that?â You regret coming out to help him. Usually, this stuff is already done by the time you show up to work, early as usual.Â
You put down the last chair at the table youâre working on and brush off your apron. âItâs not like I have any other choice, Carmen,â youâre trying to keep your voice even. The dining room is empty, itâs still, and it feels much more awkward than having the conversation anywhere else wouldâve felt. âI donât really have many other options.âÂ
You look around the dining room and decide that leaving Carmen to finish setup isnât an awful fate.Â
âYes, you do!â He doesnât drop it. His fists are clenched at his side to stop him from flinging his arms up in frustration. âYou have so many other options! Why did you pick the fucking stupid one?â You can handle being yelled at. Itâs a part of the job. It happens to you every single day without fail. You can handle it.
That doesnât mean that you have to take it from Carmen, though.
âStop it,â you donât raise your voice at him, but youâre not quiet either.
âI just donât fucking get it,â he huffs. Once heâs started he canât make himself stop.Â
You sigh, loudly. âYeah, Iâm not asking you to, Carmen. Okay, but donât treat me like garbage because I canât afford a car.â
Thatâs the final straw in the conversation with him, and you turn to go back into the kitchen. Maybe Richie will be playing Angry Birds on his phone in the office and heâll let you watch. Carmenâs frown deepens. âWhat the fuck are you talking about? Who gives a shit that you canât afford a car?â He dodges the table he was working on and rushes to follow you. Heâs a lot less graceful than you always are with it and thatâs without the tray of drinks. âDo you see that shit out there?â He stands in front of you now, pointing a heavy, tattooed arm out at the front window. âItâs fucking Chicago. You canât be walking here in twenty fucking degrees, honey! Do you not get that? Look at you! If someone pulls a knife on you out there what the fuck are you gonna do?â
Youâre frozen in front of him now. Heâs throwing so much at you that you donât know what to say.Â
Heâs going back to setting up now, but as he turns he blows out a breath. âGet that through your fucking head, yeah?â
Thatâs the part that frustrates you the most. He does this all the time, he presents you with ten different problems and no solutions. You donât need Carmen to tell you how to live your life when youâre struggling as it is. âHow else do you want me to get to work? Itâs either that or you find a new fucking waitress, okay? So can we let it go? What the fuck do you want me to do about it, Carmen? â
Carmen doesnât want to let it go. You take the train in the fucking pouring rain and walk every night only to be yelled at by a bunch of assholes over steak.Â
âI want you to not walk through Chicago in the middle of the night!â Heâs exasperated. âYesterday you left after eleven, do you know how fucking dangerous that is? Fucking⊠Fuck?â It comes out as a question. âWhy the fuck have you been leaving me here at night to go walk home alone? What the fuck do you think Iâm here for?â
Youâre getting upset by the yelling, and now that heâs said everything he needs to say he can see that heâs making you visibly panicked. âI donât know what you want from me!â You let out finally, words exhaling from your chest with force. âJust tell me what you want or stop fucking yelling at me!â
He says your name quietly, letting out a frustrated huff. âFucking- Okay. Okay.â He runs a hand through his hair and has to bend at the waist, leaning on the table you just fixed up, head buried in his arms. He takes a quick three second breather, trying to force down the ugly bubble of anger thatâs rising familiarly to the surface, ready to spill out of his mouth. âIf we are at the restaurant together and itâs the middle of the night, and I have a carâŠâ he pauses, trying to give you time to follow along after previously overwhelming you. â... and you donât.â You blink over at him. âWhy the fuck would you not ask me to drive you home?â
âBecause youâre my boss?â The answer comes easily, and it almost startles him how quickly you respond. âWhat? Why are you asking me this?â
Carmen knows, deep down, that he wouldnât offer the same courtesy to Marcus or Fak or god forbid Richie. Sydney or Tina? If they asked, sure. But he would never stand in front of them in the dining room to yell at them for not asking. He likes to think itâs because he knows youâre different. You donât yell back, you donât antagonise him, you donât push like they do. You handle it, and youâre gentle and youâre soft and for some fucking reason the idea of anything happening to you makes him feel like he has just been mugged in the street.Â
âJust,â he waves a hand in front of his face. He can hear Sydney calling out, probably something important knowing her. âPlease, honey, promise me that youâll let me at least drive you to the fucking train station? Okay? For my own peace of mind. How far away from the station do you live?â
You tell him and heâs immediately groaning. âNo, alright. Iâm driving you home.â He sounds frustrated, not mad at you, but less than pleased. You donât take it to heart. âNow please, go back inside the kitchen and fucking eat something, youâre giving me an irregular heartbeat.â
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hii!! i recently read your âFive more minutes?â story with Choso and am absolutely in love with it, iâve read it a million times already! iâm so so sorry to ask but are there any plans for a part 2?
thank you so much, and again iâm sorry for asking! take care! đ«¶
"beyond that"
"five more minutes": part 2, college au, mutual pining, FLUFF
choso kamo x writing tutor!reader
Synopsis: you and choso, now having been studying with each other for weeks, battle the development of your "little" crushes on one another
to sum it up: at this point, tutoring is the last thing on either of your minds
WC: 4,673
Warning(s): noneeeee, just fluff everywhere
Choso, admittedly, is incredibly nervous.
He doesn't know why after weeks of visiting you as his writing tutor, you have managed to have this affect on him - yet, nevertheless, his heart is pounding and his palms are sweating as he makes his way over to your now usual spot at the library, just outside the school cafe which is attached to the quiet building.
He goes through this every time he has a meeting with you. The two of you will shoot a few texts back and forth about your upcoming meeting time, the brunette would anticipate the day all week until it finally comes and his nerves are eating him alive, his face will burst into flames and his mind will drag him through every possible outcome that could turn out poorly in your presence to make him appear less favorable in your eyes, and then he'd see your face, watch you smile kindly in greeting at him, and all of is anxieties would melt away in an instant.
You have a comforting air about you, though you continue to work his nerves like crazy. While you are beautiful enough to strip the air from his lungs when he lays eyes on you and you are so humbly intelligent that it makes his head spin on his neck, you soothe him with your approach, with your voice, with your gentle advice and teachings that have helped elevate his writing skills immensely, more so than they had developed over the four years he had been attending this school.
As intimidating as you are physically, you bring Choso peace in a subject that has always aroused such stress in his life, and he is so grateful, so baffled by this magical skill that you have that he continues to return to you for more.
He did not mean to develop the crush on you that he harbors now, but how could he not? You are a breath of fresh air, a glimmer of sunlight in a world he previously deemed to be drab and dull. You're light, and fun, and down to earth, and helpful, and unintentionally charming in an adorably shy, giddy way and it makes the violet-eyed man's knees wobble and his throat run dry every time you giggle softly to ease your apprehension in his presence.
Choso loves your tutoring sessions so much, he never wishes them to end. He feels that the hour he now has carved out with you is hardly enough time, and he needs more of you - more of your face, more of your gentle voice speaking directly to him, more of your bright (e/c) eyes that soak up every ray of light that beams into your rented study room, more of the press of your lips together as you smile warmly and fully up at him when he catches on to something you taught, more of your pretty fingers grasping a pen and scribbling over his work, more of the little smiley faces you have begun to doodle onto his drafts alongside your notes.
Choso wants more of you, all of you, but he does not know how to get you. He hardly sees you outside of your sessions, and when he does, its in brief passing and you are too far away to take notice of him catching sight of you. He tries to extend your text conversations when scheduling, but they never go much further than a repetitive expression of thanks for your help or a short inquiry about how your day has been.
You're eating him alive in his mind, and it is driving him crazy. He has no idea what to do with this little obsession he has developed over you except to cling to every second he spends next to you in the library as you work through each and every aspect of his project and then some. Choso finds he has even begun to tune out when you speak to him, his thoughts so entranced by thoughts of you that he is too busy ogling over the new color you have painted over your nails, or the scent that clings to your skin, or the pattern of the skirt that you decided to wear to your meeting with him.
And you, just as smitten with your tutee, feel yourself reverting back to a bumbling schoolgirl mentality when you see him. You're always grinning ear to ear when you catch wind of Choso walking through the door and toward you, his lips curving into a soft smile when he sees you in return. And when you are tutoring him, you pay far too close attention to how far away his hand is from yours when you write over his paper, how the quick brush of your palms sparks your body to life and has you nibbling down on the inside of your lip to suppress a smile.
You like Choso. You like the way he thinks, the way he works, how lowly he speaks as though he is constantly tired, and yet how sprinkles of passion flutter their way into his speech when he discusses his research findings or other unrelated topics like his younger brother. You like the way he sits in his chair next to you, first slouching back with his legs sprawled before him before hunching forward with loose fists to the surface of the table, one leg stretched out while the other bends at the knee under the table. You like the way he focuses, the way his gorgeous lavender eyes flitter over the paper as the two of you work, then up at you when he believes that you are not paying attention, holding the image of your face until you peek up and he's snapping his eyes away as though he has been staring ahead the entire time.
God, you like how he surprises you with his warmth and generosity, his knowledge and selflessness. You like how he looks to the world with curiosity, with a clear goal, and how he acts better than he can form words - you think it proves his genuine spirit, his honesty.
You like damn near everything about him, except for when he has to leave, and he fails to ask to see you outside of an academic setting when he stands before you and stares, stammering whatever he says about having enjoyed the time you've given him. You hate when you have to watch him walk away from you, and how you have to wait another week until you see him again.
You wonder if you have deluded yourself into believing that he could return any form of attraction to you. You catch him staring at you all the time, and you see the bubble of his iMessage pending and disappearing frequently as though he is attempting to think of a way to talk to you but second-guessing so. You think the two of you have good conversations even outside of school-related topics when you are together, and you think he enjoys your company, but he never acts on it. Could it be that you are reading into things? You are his tutor after all. He could be simply behaving respectfully or showing you basic human decency by being kind. You're not sure, but one thing you do know is that you're tired of only getting to see him once a week.
You figure it does not matter when you see that familiar head of brown hair making its way past the cafe and toward the study room on the far left that the two of you have been reserving for the past few weeks. You brighten instantly and give a small wave when Choso's face comes into view. His eyes find yours through the glass and he smiles, waving in turn with rosy cheeks.
"Hi, Cho!" you greet chirpily. Choso's feet almost trip over themselves as he opens the door and walks in, the nickname you have taken to referring to him by still new on his ears, as it makes his heart skip a beat.
"H-Hey," he clears his throat, throwing his bag to the floor and taking a seat next to you. "How are you?"
"I'm good," you smile widely. "I like your outfit."
The brunette looks down at his choice of clothing, an oversized Rise Against hoodie and tattered baggy jeans. "Oh, thanks," he mumbles, looking back up at you. "You listen to Rise Against?"
"No," you admit sheepishly. "I just like the way those colors on you."
"Really? It's just black."
You point to the splashes of yellow and red in the graphic detailing. "Yeah, but the yellow brings out your eyes," you say rather casually, and the tips of Choso's ears burn at the compliment.
"Thank you..." he mumbles, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his neck. "I... um... I like your nails today."
Your brows shoot up as you glance down at your freshly done manicure. "I just got them done yesterday! You noticed they're different?" you smile and he nods slowly.
"Yeah... they had been red for a while. I like the change," he admits before his eyes widen slightly and he looks at you in a panic. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound creepy-"
"You don't," you chuckle. "It's actually really sweet of you to notice. Thank you," you flash him that jaw-dropping grin and Choso swallows hard with an awkward nod and a wobbly smile.
"Sure."
You look down, tapping your hands against the table to ride yourself of the antsiness bubbling inside you. Choso watches the action softly, musing internally at how cute he finds you to be.
"Okay, so how's your paper coming?"
"Pretty good," the brunette eventually responds as he fishes for the said paper in his bag. "My professor's actually been saying that I've made a lot of progress with my writing," he sets the heavily marked paper onto the table along with his computer, which holds a fresh coy he has been working on.
"Really?" you ask excitedly. Diamond eyes shoot to you swiftly out of the corner of his eye as he hums gently in affirmation. "That's amazing, Cho! You should be so proud of how far you've come."
"I'm not all there yet," he emphasizes as the color swirls over his pale cheeks once more. "Even so, I'm only getting better 'cause of you. You're the one helping me out."
"Well, yeah, I'm giving you direction, but you're making the improvements all on your own," you playfully nudge his shoulder, and he topples loosely to the side. You try your best not to allow the bulk of muscle you feel beneath his sleeve to affect you more than it already is as you retract your hand and straighten yourself. "Seriously, you've been doing a great job."
"It's... the bare minimum honestly," he brushes off your compliments, unable to take them on properly without the gears in his head malfunctioning.
"You're so humble," you shake your head.
"I just don't think there's anything to really brag about, that's all," the brown-haired boy chuckles stiffly and you sigh.
"Well, just know as your tutor, I'm proud of you," you say gently, tugging the stack of papers over to your side with the stretch of your arm past Choso's frame.
The purple-eyed senior perks up slightly, blown pupils turning to focus on you as your previous words drill themselves into his brain. You're proud of him? Of him of all people? Hell, he thinks the praise alone from you is going to make him spontaneously combust though you move on as though you have not said anything special.
The session proceeds as normal. Choso shows you the updates he has made in his paper, and you look over his shoulder at the computer screen as he speaks lowly, explaining what you are reading as your eyes skim. At one point, you ask him if you can scroll through the document yourself, and he allows you. He leans back in his chair as you push yourself forward and press yourself to the edge of the table. In doing so, you push into his personal bubble, leaning over his frame so that the top of your head is just below his chin. The brunette's eyes widen as your sugary scent invades his senses, your perfectly manicured finger swiping over the cursor as you mutter his words under your breath with concentration.
Choso feels himself hold his breath within your closeness, blood flooding throughout his body rather aggressively. You have such a strange effect on his body, rendering him weak by simply hovering a few centimeters away and it kills him. He has to fight the urge to lean down and sniff your hair, to run his palm over your hand as you swipe through his computer familiarly, to press his lips to your temple or the exposed skin of your neck as you crane it downward with your free hand pushing into your cheek to support your head.
You're so pretty, so perfect it hurts. He wants you so badly, but he has no idea how to say it- how to get your attention. Do pretty, preppy girls like you even want his attention? Do you think yourself above him though you have made him feel so comfortable, so equal to your intellectual level over the past month or so? Do you think he's pretty the way he thinks you're pretty? Do you stay up in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling with thoughts of his face wandering your mind the way yours does his? Do you think about him like that at all, or are you just his tutor?
Choso breathes in sharply, watching as you pull away to sit upright in your seat again. He watches you speak, the way your slightly glossed lips move to echo a muffled phrase, but somehow his ears are ringing. The sight of you is so loud, so powerful that it overpowers the sound as it travels to his ears and sends signals to his brain. His eyes are still as he looks at you, somewhat dumbfounded, until heâs snapping himself out of it when your voice finally comes back into focus more clearly.
âChoso?â you call his name again, and he hears you this time. His shoulders jump slightly and he blinks.
âHuh?â
You furrow your brows with a small laugh. âDid you hear what I said? Are you okay?â
Just then, Choso can feel his body burst into flames when he realizes that he had just sat and stared at you while you spoke for far too long. âS-Sorry. Iâm sorry,â he apologizes profusely, thoroughly embarrassed. He shifts in his seat, a habit you notice he takes to often when heâs on the spot. âI spaced out for a second. What did you say?â
You look at him for a moment longer than you should have as he fights desperately to look anywhere but into your eyes. He inhales and exhales slowly, deeply, as if he is trying to regulate himself, and you try your best not to look like youâre enjoying the sight.
With your teeth sinking into your bottom lip and the corners of your lips twirling upward, you prepare to repeat yourself. âI was just saying that your sentence structure has gotten a lot better⊠I like what you did especially in the third paragraph."
The purple-eyed man's nose flares subtly. "Oh. Okay," he murmurs, voice dipping lower and lower. "I mean- yeah, I was trying to do something different there... where I transition to talking about the human body as a whole."
"I can see that," you nod, tucking your hands into your lap after tilting his computer back toward him. "I think it flows better. Just make sure you watch your grammar in some spaces too. There should be a comma after that one phrase," you nod to the screen and Choso is quick to turn his head to what you are referring to.
You watch from the side as his jaw clenches and unclenches when he finds his error and hastily clicks to fix it. He's so gorgeous, you think to yourself as you admire the structure of his sharp jaw and the veins running down the side of his neck and into the beginnings of those tattoos that seem to tease themselves to you whenever you're with the bio major.
And oh, do baggy clothes look absolutely amazing on Choso's body. While you're sure he'd look even better with clothes that snugly fit his form, you find his laid-back style to suit him astonishingly well. You like the way his hoodie drapes over his shoulders, the sleeves cupping loosely around large, well-sculpted hands. You especially love how his dark eyeliner accentuates the vibrancy of his irises and blends into the complementation of the rest of his clothes. Choso dresses so well, so uniquely, and you are fascinated by it. You're fascinated by him.
"Alright, anything else? Do you want to look at the most recent section?" Choso turns to ask you but pauses when he finds that you are already looking at him. The two of you blink at each other, and you almost think that Choso is shocked to make eye contact with you again so suddenly. "What's wrong? What... what is it?" he asks, unsure of what you are doing, unsure of himself.
You shrug your shoulders tightly to your ears and look down with a gasy smile. "Ah, nothing," you hiss, pursing your lips. "Sorry, you're just a little distracting sometimes."
His face falls as he tilts his head slightly in genuine confusion. Has he offended you somehow? "Me?" he points to himself slowly and you nod with a tight smile and warm cheeks. "Uh- sorry, I don't mean to... distract you," he says carefully, regretfully, genuinely. "I didn't know I was doing anything to be distracting."
"No, no, you're not," you giggle to yourself and swipe a hand over your heated face with a heavy exhale. "Sorry, it's nothing like that. You didn't do anything wrong."
"...Then what did I do?"
"Nothing," you reiterate as you pick at the hem of your shirt. "You're... nice to look at, that's all," you confess timidly.
Choso can feel his heart plunge into his chest and his pupils shrink slightly when he takes in what you said. For a moment, he thinks he imagined it, but by the way you are fiddling with your clothes and keeping your eyes down suddenly allows him to deduct that perhaps he heard you correctly the first time.
"You think I'm nice to look at?" he asks carefully for clarification and your face tightens along with your nod.
"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything," you quickly say. "I just figured you were wondering why I was staring at you. I do that a lot, anyway... sorry, this is really awkward. I probably shouldn't have said that."
"No," Chose rushes, and you look back up to see those beautifully pinked cheeks and big eyes again. "No, please, don't- don't take it back," he requests gently, turning to face you in his chair. "No one's ever said that to me before."
You suddenly shoot your head up, staring at him incredulously. "What? Are you serious?" Choso nods in confirmation and you gape. "But look at you! You're beautiful!"
The boy's lips spread into a thin line as more color blossoms over his face. He feels that familiar dampness drip over his palms as he fidgets, looking to you meekly as though you have just bent down on one knee and proposed.
âBeautiful?â he tests the word on his tongue, brows drawing together.
âYeah⊠I canât believe no oneâs ever told you that before. You have really good bone structure, and your eyes are⊠pretty,â you scrunch your nose. âI-Iâm only being honest. I thought⊠anyone could see that, really.â
Choso shakes his head. âNot really. I think youâre the first.â
âThat doesnât make any sense to me at all.â
âHonestly, it doesnât make sense to me that you think Iâm beautiful,â Choso chuckles slightly.
âWhy?â
âBecause youâre beautiful,â he shoots out. âAnd to be considered on the same level as you is⊠I never would have thought that.â
Your lips part in shock, your hand immediately flying to conceal your lips as another stupid smile makes its way onto your face. Choso, in turn, angles his brows as though he is angry with himself for allowing his feelings to slip so freely. He cringes softly, berating himself, as his fingers slip into the back of his hair to scratch anxiously at his scalp.
âIâm getting ahead of myself, sorry-â
âYou apologize too much,â you beam beneath your palm.
Choso looks over at you, normally so laid back but now with a tortured expression. âI know,â he admits. âBut so do you.â
You go to retort but find that you can not, for you have to give him credit for how much he has noticed about you. âLetâs- get back to your essay,â you clap your hands suddenly, blinking rapidly as you pull yourself closer to the table to shove your nose into a page that you have already read a hundred times over.
Choso watches you for a second before a smile crosses his lips. He ducks his head down, dimples prodding into his cheeks as he revels in the moment the two of you just shared and the way you are so hastily trying to keep yourself together. Itâs cute. Youâre so cute.
The time flies by just as quickly as it always does during your tutoring sessions, and before you know it, your session is over and the time you rented out for the study room has ran out.
The two of you routinely attempt to mask your disappointment as you pack your belongings in tension-fueled silence, flashing shy smiles whilst gathering your things side by side.
Choso jumps to hold the door for you as you walk out, to which you thank him with a bright grin. The two of you venture out of the library together, outdoors and onto the steps leading up to the building.
You sigh, brushing a piece of your hair back as the breeze waves over you. âI guess Iâll see you again next week?â
You look up and Choso is staring down at you with a hum, clutching the strap of his satchel bag tightly. ââŠGuess so.â
âAlright,â you nod stiffly. âIâll text you.â
âOkay.â
You stand there, looking at each other for a bit longer before you give in and nod again. âOkay. Bye, Cho.â
You move to start heading into the direction of your dorm when the brunette steps forward abruptly. â(Y/n), wait,â he stops you, and you pause.
You swiftly turn back around, eager to stay. âYeah?â
âI⊠uh,â he stammers, eyes darting over your face nervously. He leans back and forth on his shoes, unsure of how to proceed yet knowing that there is something more he wants to say. âI really- I appreciate⊠no, I really like our tutoring sessions together.â
You smile warmly, folding your hands before you. âI like our sessions too. Iâve told you that before. I think youâre a great mentee.â
He gulps. âYeah. I think youâre a great teacher⊠but, I mean I like⊠I like our sessions beyond just working.â
You tilt your head. âYeah?â
âYeah,â he exhales. âI guess⊠what Iâm trying to say is that I like spending time with you.â
You feel your heart in your ears and your cheeks aching from how hard youâre smiling. âI also like spending time with you.â
He perks up. âAs more than my tutor?â
You laugh softly with an enthusiastic nod. âAs more than your tutor, yes,â you affirm. âI think youâre really cool. And I meant what I said earlier about you being attractive.â
A swift breath of relief escaped Choso as he looks down with a gentle smirk, cheeks pinkening. You think itâs endearing to watch such an intimidating-looking man crumble so easily before you like a toddler picking a flower for his playground crush.
âCool,â he chuckles, picking at the belt buckle of his bag strap. âYouâre pretty too. Like, really pretty. Youâre gorgeous.â
âYou said that earlier,â you tease, and flames further ignite the poor boyâs face.
âI-I know. I thought Iâd just say it again⊠I donât know,â he murmurs. âIâm not too good at this kinda stuff.â
âYouâre doing a great job, Cho. Keep going,â you encourage, biting into your lip.
The twenty one year oldâs eyes flicker to the sight before they snap back up to you. âOkay,â he exhales. âI donât wanna just see you once a week.â
You nod. âMe neither.â
ââŠI wanna see you more than that.â
âSo do I.â
âWould it⊠be cool with you if I asked to hang out with you sometime? Maybe tomorrowâŠ? We could go grab some food together⊠I- I have my car. Iâd take you.â
âAre you asking me out on a date?â
Chosoâs brows lift as he looks at you, your expression expecting and welcoming to his advances. Youâre swaying back and forth as he somewhat does the same, one hand digging harshly into his pocket while the other that grips the strap of his bag tightens. ââŠDo you want it to be a date?â he asks slowly. âIt doesnât have to be if you donât want it. I mean, we can just go as friends.â
âChoso.â
âYeah.â
âI donât want to be your friend.â
ââŠOh,â he stills. âThenâŠ?â
Your head tosses back as you laugh loudly, the skin beneath your glimmering eyes creasing. âI want to be more than that with you. Please ask me out on a date.â
Choso feels a weight lift from his shoulders as he slumps with relief. âJesus, you scared me.â
âSorry. Iâm sorry,â you giggle. âGo ahead.â
The brunette shakes his head and rubs a hand over his warm face, biting back his own smile. He looks back up at you to meet your twinkling (e/c) gaze, heartbeat in his throat. âWill you go to lunch with me tomorrow? As more than friends?â
You bounce on the soles of your feet, shoulders raising to your ears again as you lean giddily to the side. âIâd love to.â
A grin breaks onto Chosoâs face as he takes you in. âOkay. Good, Iâm glad. I can pick you up at 12?â
âThatâs perfect. Iâll text you what dorm Iâm in tonight.â
âOkay,â he nods happily.
âOkay,â you grin.
ââŠSo Iâll see you later? Or, sorry, tomorrow?â
âSounds great. Iâll see you then.â
âOkay,â he repeats, and you laugh again.
âOkay.â
âSorry,â he scrunched his face. âYou make me nervous. Iâm sorry if Iâm- sorry.â
You roll your eyes, stepping into him. He watches your movements carefully, slightly confused, before he feels your palm press to the side of his face. His eyes go wide when you tilt up and lean in, pressing your soft lips to his cheek in a quick, sweet peck. His body freezes, his blood pumping through his heart vigorously as you lean away and lower your hand with a cheeky smile.
âStop apologizing,â you advise and he nods instantly.
âOkay,â he obliges, dazed.
With another soft giggle, you turn on your heel to part ways. âGood job today, Cho. I'm excited for our date tomorrow.â
âT-Thanks,â he mutters. âMe too.â
You flash him one more smile before turning and walking off. Chosoâs eyes glue to your fading figure, his fingers grazing the space in which your lips touched his skin with awe.
He does not miss the way you turn over your shoulder as you walk away to give him one last wave, and he returns it eagerly, his heart fluttering and head disappearing into the clouds, rendering himself a dumb mess by the likes of you.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fandom#jjk fanfic#anime#jjk#jjk season 2#jjk x you#choso kamo#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#choso x you#choso x reader fluff#kamo choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso fluff#jjk au#jjk au x reader
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fairy-tale felicity.
yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, obsession, horse hybrid!reader, age gap (reader is 20/21 and riddle is 31), brief mentions of past abuse and neglect, codependency, kidnapping note - the lab has rescued a horse hybrid, and riddle is tasked with rehabilitating her. he bites off more than he can chew when, as his relationship with you progresses and the program boasts promising results, he finds himself getting attached.
As soon as Riddle clocks into the facility, right on time as usual, an assistant researcher barrages him like a freight train. Her entire demeanor kindles concern, a cloying, clawing sort that gives way to uncertainty and, subsequently, confusion.
Before he can ask, she interrupts in a clipped tone: âDr. Crewelâs called you to the exam chamber.â She hurries along so quickly that he struggles to keep up, soles squeaking against too-clean linoleum.
âWhatâs happened?â He matches her pace and fixes her with a sharp stare. âIs everything all right?â
âThereâs this horseâŠthing he found andâwell, itâs hard to explain. Iâll let you see for yourself.â
Riddle doesnât push the matter further, sensing heâll know soon enough. Crewelâs assistant wastes no time in leading him even though he has the labâs layout memorized. It must be severe, whatever this horse-thing is. If it requires his specific presence, surely thereâs a sensible explanation. After all, science prides itself on explaining the unexplainable.
Heâll take his chances and prepare for the worst.
The door is shut and the glass is frosted, indicative of privacy, but Riddle doesnât hesitate to knock. At his superiorâs command, the door slides open on smooth hinges. Riddle swallows hard and steps through with steeled nerves.
He was expecting this horse-thing to be distinctly centaurian or monstrously grotesque, so heâs surprised to see a woman lying on her back on a metal examination table, arms and legs outstretched and tied down. Her eyes are shut, and sheâs dressed in a thin hospital gown. Riddle is about to ask whatâs so odd, but then he sees your ears and legs.Â
So not a centaur. Perhaps something akin to the fabled faun heâs read so much about?
But thatâs not whatâs so surprising. What is, actually, is the rough state youâre in. There are bandages wound tight around your arms, legs, and throat, and Riddle theorizes scratches, bruises, and lacerations are hidden beneath those clean fabrics.
âA timely arrival,â Crewel comments, looking at him from a handful of documents.Â
Medical reports, Riddle assumes, watching veterinarians flit about to take vitals and run tests to gather heart rate, blood type, and even the status of your fertility. Invasive, yes, but the lab is thoroughâa facet Riddle is most proud of. He shuffles closer, hazarding a glance at your bandaged legs. Ghastly chips and cracks run up and along your hooves. He notes youâre without horseshoes and grimaces.
âDr. Rosehearts.â
âYes? You called for me, Dr. Crewel?â
Taking one final look over what appears to be data on your current health, Crewel finally addresses Riddle properly. âI have a task for you.â
âInvolving this hybrid?â
âCorrect. If I recall, you mentioned youâve dealt with horses before.â
âThatâs true, yesâŠâ He knows the path Crewel is treading and heâs dreading it. âIn my youth, I participated in competitive horseback riding. One of our responsibilities in the Equestrian Club was to care for and look after our horses.â
âHow many years was that for?â
âEight or so. Admittedly, itâs been some time since Iâve kept up with it.â
âI see. Then I assume youâre aptly aware of their biology?â
âTo an extent, yes. I know their diet and habits. How to handle one. How to calm one. How to ride one. Etcetera. Iâd say I have my fair share of experience.â
Toeing the line of piqued curiosity, Riddle keeps his eyes pinned firmly on Crewel even though the doctorsâ hushed chatterings reach his ears. He tamps down the urge to turn and watch the hybrid.
âInternal structures are intact. Minor fracture in the left wrist,â one observes. âWeâll insert the microchip between her shoulder blades soon. Be prepared to move the specimen.â
âWhatâs the plan after rehabilitation? Are they going to sell her off to a farm? Is it morally right to put her in a livestock show?â another adds, detached but inquisitive.
âNot just that. Is it possible to breed her? If sheâs more human than equine, does that not qualify her as a beastfolk? Although most of them are centaurs, right?â
âYeah, but Dr. Crewelâs calling her a hybrid.â
âThereâs a difference?â
Riddle wonders that, too.
Crewel clips the pages together before handing them to Riddle for his perusal. âWe responded to a call regarding her.â
Her meaning you, the hybrid. Riddle leafs through the documents, scanning each with his discerning greys. Calls werenât uncommon; most of them were usually false, the result of people who didnât understand that the meaning of a rehabilitation lab is found in its title and that they canât just call to report their friend for being a fool in need of treatment (which was almost always untrue). But sometimes there were genuine callsâthe ones in which hybrids needed help or rescuing or intervention of some sort. This seems to be the latter case.
âAnd does that explain the state sheâs in?â
âMostly. What we know so far is noted in the report.â
He finds it thenâthe official reasoning behind your condition. âPhysical abuse and neglect,â he reads, running down the list as it grows longer and sadder with every word.
âI suspect sheâs become averse to humans as a result of this severe maltreatment. She was given a sedative via tranquilizer dart. It was the only way we could cut her free from the cuff without harming her.â
âThe cuff?â
âThe shed she was locked in. Cuffed to a postânearly frostbitten, poor thingâand fed scraps.â Crewelâs eyes narrow with disdain. âRotten mutts, the lot of them.â
Riddle hums, speechless. What a tragic situation.
âWere the ones responsible caught?â
âMost of them.â Crewel brushes past Riddle to observe the hybrid up close. âSheâs the result of unethical breeding, which isnât as uncommon as we wish it was. But the case is in the hands of the authorities now. Iâm not going to trouble myself with the misdeeds of a few bad dogs.â
âWhat will become of her? I imagine rehabilitation is our top priority?â
âPrecisely. This is where you come in.â Crewel gestures to the slumbering hybrid. âYouâre one of our best good boys, Dr. Rosehearts. As such, Iâm entrusting you to look after her.â
âLookâŠafter,â he parrots, tongue heavy in his mouth. âIâm sorry, what? You canât possibly meanââ
âThe lab is no place for her. Not in her current disposition. Youâre in charge of rehabilitating her from home. Prove to her that humans arenât all naughty pups in need of proper discipline. Youâll report your progress and findings directly to me.â
âI⊠I can do it. Naturally.â Confidence swells within him; heâs satisfied to have been chosen for such an important duty. But rehabilitation from home, in which he wonât have all of the helpful tools the lab carries, is daunting in its own right. âI canât guarantee Iâll have willed her fear away. She might always fear humans.â He gazes sidelong at the hybrid and straightens his posture. âWith all due respect, Iâm a scientist, not a therapist.â
âI donât expect you to be one.â Crewel turns away, tailored lab coat swishing with the motion. âYou arenât required to work miracles. Thatâs not within your job description. Besides, an ambitious pup will never succeed if he adopts Icarusâs mindset.â
Riddle scoffs around a laugh. âI have no intention of flying too close to the sun. Iâll do it in accordance with the rules.â
That earns him an approving nod, which is really all the validation he currently needs, before Crewel steps back to watch the vets prepare you for the microchip. Riddle stands beside him, hungering for more information.
âAside from her past with humans, is there anything I absolutely must know? How old is she?â
âWeâre thinking somewhere between twenty and twenty-one in human years. A fully mature adult by equine standards.â
He cringes at the gap. âIâve no idea what the youth are like nowadays, especially not one whoâs yet to be integrated into society.â
Crewel chuckles, folding his arms across his chest. âWill that be the foundation for your method of approach?â
âIdeally, Iâd like to establish some form of connectionâwhether thatâs by appealing to her human traits or simply appearing non-threatening. I canât treat her like an animal. Sheâs human, too. But then⊠WellâŠâ He shakes his head, sighing. This is a difficult equation with an unclear solution. Normally, Riddle adores these problemsâthe ones that get his brain turning. But this is troubling, and he canât be clinical about it as if itâs something mathematical. He peers at the file once more. âSheâs a thoroughbred? Huh. Vorpal was the same.â
âSo youâve experience with thoroughbreds.â
âI have experience with thoroughbred horses, not thoroughbred horse hybrids. But perhaps her thoroughbred nature matches that of Vorpalâs.â
Riddle worries his lip between his teeth. Thoroughbreds are notoriously hot-blooded. This may prove to be more challenging than I thought.
Itâs not the first trial heâs been handed, and it wonât be the last. His entire life has been one big trial, lived out rigidly and righteously, and heâs learned to weather the difficulties by conforming to the long and often unspoken list of rules prescribed by his mother. There are rules for everything. Rules for when one should sleep if they wish to get a full eight hours. Rules for when one should speak if they wish to follow the guidelines for group etiquette. Rules for when one should have a certain flavor of tea or tart depending on the occasion. For thirty-one years of his life, he has followed all of them near-perfectly.
This circumstance is no different. The task has been assigned and, as he has dozens of times prior, heâll follow the rules to see it through to the end.
But what exactly are the rules in dealing with a damaged hybrid? Itâs the only word he can think of when he looks at you, however offensive it may be. Itâs an objective observation: Youâre damaged and alone, certainly afraid. He doesnât want to picture the horrors youâve enduredâthe dehumanizing experiences youâve been subjected to at the hands of humans.
Riddle is human, and so this is very conflicting. How can he, a human, help a hybrid, who fears them like theyâre nightmarish monsters? And they definitely are to you. If anything, heâs less of a human and more of a cruel beast in your eyes.
âWouldnât it be better to keep her here?â he ventures. The vets sedate you once more when it becomes clear the drugs are wearing off. Your tail swishes, fingers twitching, and then you fall still once more. His eyes track the IV tube to the needle pricking the top of your hand. âSafer, too. There are too many variables in my home. It wouldnât be a suitable environment.â
âItâs separate from the lab, thoughâa fresh, stress-free space. Less chances of running into us, and weâre the last people she wants to see.â
âShe wonât want to see me either.â
âOne is better than a roomful.â
Riddle canât refute that.
âIâll do it,â he says, âbut on the condition that you refrain from interfering directly. If Iâm to rehabilitate her, then it is only me sheâll see. For now, at least. Before she can interact with other humans, she must first learn to trust one and that will be me.â
âVery well. Those are acceptable terms.â
âAnd Iâll need a week to prepare.â
Crewel considers the request before nodding. âA week gives me time to study her further, so Iâll agree to it.â
Iâll need to hybrid-proof the house, gather textbooks and information on horses and horse hybrids, look into dietary needs, write up daily and weekly schedules, research phobias and ways to treat them, draw up a plan of action⊠A backup plan, too. Just in case.
Surfacing from his inner ruminations, Riddle fixes Crewel with a stern look. âYouâre going to study her in a way that isnât hurtful, yes?â
âOf course. This requires patience and tact.â He leans over the examination table to peer at your ears as they twitch. Still sound asleep. âRest assured, Dr. Rosehearts. No harm will befall your hybrid.â
âS-She is not my hybrid.â
âShe is for the time being. Iâll give you one year.â
âA year is a long time to provide room and board for a hybrid. BesidesâŠâ He hesitates to think the logistics over before adding, âYouâre asking me to shape my life around her needs. Not that Iâm unwilling, mind you. It just feelsâŠlong. We canât even be certain of the results.â
âIf youâd prefer I send her to Dr. Huntââ
At the mention of the morbidly eccentric researcher, Riddle shakes his head, a flicker of possessive fidelity sparking in him.Â
âThereâs no need. Iâve already agreed.â
âGood boy! Then Iâll take this week to collect more data, and by Friday morning weâll deliver her to your doorstep.â
âIâll be ready,â he says, but he doesnât believe it.
Just how ready can one possibly be for an assignment as sensitive as this? He supposes heâll find out in a weekâs time.
In classic Riddle Rosehearts fashion, he drives himself mad with preparation.
If his meticulous schedules and plans are worth anything, heâs about as ready as heâs ever been. He feels as if heâs about to welcome a glass sculpture rather than a hybrid into his humble home, what with its many precautions. Corners have been covered with rubber guards, dishware and utensils have been locked away and swapped with paper and plastic, and heâs blocked off the second story with a safety gate. The type used for pets and children. It was the only thing he could think of while he debated whether he should lock the medicine cabinet or just move everything upstairs.
For one yearâthatâs exactly 365 daysâheâll live out his life on the ground floor of his home. And heâs ready.
Is he, though?
He pored over the files day and night, reflected on new data from Crewel, and drafted dozens of plans in preparation for your arrival. Most of these plans ended up crumpled and tossed in the rubbish bin, accompanied with a groan and a muttered complaint, but last night he reached an epiphany after finishing his third read of a psychology textbook on phobias.
Anthropophobia is the fear of people, heâd jotted in a new notebook just as the clock struck midnight. For many phobias, exposure therapy is a useful and valid method of treatment. Seeing as Iâm not a licensed therapist, CBT is not a possibility and I canât bring her to a therapist myself. That would involve its own setbacks and hurdles. Therefore, Iâll keep track of her progress as I attempt exposure therapy.
The textbook recommended he try approaching it with harmless hypotheticals: Imagine youâre interacting with a few people. At first he thought it might work, but in order for you to even listen to him youâd have to trust him. And you canât trust someone if youâre fearing for your life. For a moment, he considered purchasing a horse costume and masquerading as one himself, if only to ease your anxiety, but that would constitute a dishonest practice.
Now, sleep-deprived and uncertain, Riddle attempts to bolster his confidence. He stands at his front door like a prisoner awaiting punishment, tapping his foot against the floor out of nervous habit. A grandfather clock ticks behind him, calling out seconds and minutes in low, slow, foreboding tocks. He flips through his notes to refresh himself even though thereâs no need for that; heâs already reviewed five times since he woke up.
Youâre overdoing it, he tells himself. But is he? Itâs better to be overly prepared.
The sudden rap at the door startles him. He hurries to open it, almost tripping on the hardwood. Inhaling a steadying breath, he holds it for a moment and then releases it. Heâll be okay. Heâs a scientist. A scientist in hedgehog slippers, but a scientist nonetheless. He can do this.
âGood morning, Dr. Crewel.â
Heâs not sure what he was expecting when he peers out at his snow-dusted lawn, but it definitely wasnât this. Youâre bundled in a thick coat, boots yanked up to your calves, and a woolen hat is pulled down over your eyes. To hide your equine features, he realizes. Hybrids are something of a taboo subject, especially those who canât be classified as standard beastfolk. The divide that separates both is a slippery slope.
âSheâs sleeping now, but I suspect sheâll wake in an hour or so. Her left wrist is still healing, so do be mindful.â
Riddle frowns. Itâs not very kind to drug her every time you need to transport her somewhereâŠ
The week and its events were rough on you. He knows this because he was there for the briefing. Riddleâs seen needles and pills forced into you more times than heâd like to admit, and heâs heard Crewelâs trademark, âThis is the only way to keep a pup docile,â so often itâs become a haunting mantra. The first rule, he decides right then, is that there will be no sedation unless absolutely necessary.
How else is he to rehabilitate you if youâre unconscious for most of it?
Crewel steps through the threshold and lowers you onto the sofa. Riddle stands rooted to his spot, observing him as he ducks out momentarily and then returns with a suitcase.
âClothing,â he explains, setting it down in front of Riddle. âAs well as a few sedatives and sleep aids. Prescribed medications and supplements. Nothing youâre not already familiar with.â
Thank the heavens, he thinks with great relief. I didnât even think about purchasing clothes for her.
âI wonât need them.â
At least not the sedatives and sleep aids.
âWhether you use them or not is entirely up to you. It never hurts to resort to old tricks when training a dog.â
For once Riddleâs glad heâs the one in charge. Crewel views everything through the lens of a behaviorist and Rook Hunt isâŠRook Hunt. Obviously, by process of elimination, heâs the most qualified for this job. Who else is going to advocate to get you fitted for new horseshoes?
âWould you like me to come into the lab at any point during this?â
âIf you deem it necessary. If not, you know how to reach me. I expect an email detailing her progress every two weeks.â
âRightâŠâ His gaze pans over to you. âWhat will happen after the yearâs over?â
âThe higher-ups will decide.â
As they have for every other case weâve dealt with, his brain fills in the blank. Riddle doesnât like that. Crowley does his research most of the time, but it doesnât seem fair to send you off to Queen-knows-where if youâve just started opening up to humans. Riddle recalls the furtive mumblings of the vetsâAre they going to sell her off to a farm? Is it morally right to put her in a livestock show? Is it possible to breed her?âand feels himself growing ill.
âAll right. Sure. Yes,â he babbles dumbly, shaking those thoughts out of his head. âI wonât let you down, Dr. Crewel.â
Heâs not sure thatâs possible anymore. Not when the stakes are so high. This is an expectation, not an experiment he can toy with as he pleases.
The last of Riddleâs withering courage goes out the door with Crewel, swept up in a flurry of snowflakes. He heaves a sigh and then deflates, exhausted even though the day has just begun.
âWhat have I gotten myself into?â he mumbles, wringing his hands to calm himself.
He considers removing your boots and coat but thinks better of it. For a minute, he simply lingers. When it becomes clear that you arenât going to wake anytime soon, he resolves to get started on breakfast to pass the hour. He may not be a five-star chef, but heâs had enough practice to know how to cook passable, edible meals. Although passable is not perfect, and even though he knows he should devote more time to cooking heâs never had that chance. Heâs up before the sunâs risen, lukewarm coffee poured in a travel cup, and then heâs off to the lab. An unhealthy habit he ought to snuff.
Now that heâs homebound, he should make an effort to try a little harder. After all, he has a guest now. Riddle wants to impress, if only so he can finally hear someone other than Trey tell him his cooking is good. Genuinely good. He knows Trey only says so because good is a safe word with many interpretations, which is almost always succeeded with a line about how heâs willing to share a few pointers for improvement.
For now he settles on something easy, keeping all of your dietary needs in mind: oatmeal, diced fruits, an assortment of nuts, toast, and scrambled eggs. Itâs less cooking and more arranging, but itâs the best he has to offer right now.
Heâs in the process of setting the table for two when he realizes itâs highly unlikely youâll be joining him. Gathering your plate and cup, he brings both into the next room over and sets them down on the table alongside a napkin and plastic utensils. With his hands on his hips, Riddle surveys his handiwork and beams.
Itâs better than nothing.
His eyes find the suitcase then. It looks fit to burst, bulging with clothes. Crewel must have overpacked, but then that makes sense. Fashion is his passion, and heâd sooner shrivel than send you out into the world, which is currently limited to Riddleâs house, with plain attire. He wonders if any of the contents were designed by him or simply selected from the racks with taste and style in mind.
Riddle supposes itâs not important right now, so he drags the suitcase down the hall and into his room. Technically, itâs his study. But it will serve as his bedroom for the duration of this program. Your roomâthe eternally empty guest roomâis right across the hall. The bed is small, but itâs cozy enough. He thinks youâll like it, if only because itâs better than the dull lab with its hard tables and blinding lights.
Heâs about to begin unpacking when a jarring crash pierces the air. Startled out of his skin, he stagger-runs out of the room just in time to see you splayed on the floor, plate overturned and food spattered. He opens his mouth to snap at you and then stops short. You notice him then, your eyes blown impossibly wide, nostrils flaring, and you scurry back as if burned.
âWait!â he exclaims without foresight. âYouâll hurt yourself!â
He surges forward, intending to come to your aid. You make a noise that sounds like a gasp and a squeal, your breaths coming in panicked huffs and puffs. He watches you curl into a cower and his heart aches at the sight. Gathering his composure, Riddle peers at the mess and then back at you.
Distance, he reminds himself. And patience. Take it slow.
âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to raise my voice.â He issues you an apologetic smile that sits awkwardly on his face. His tone is soft, an even approximation of tenderness. âIâm not going to hurt you. You may not believe that, but itâs the genuine truth. My name is Dr. Rosehearts and Iâm here to look after you. You remember Dr. Crewel, donât you? The researcher with the black-and-white hair.â
Paralyzed, you blink back at him.
âW-Well⊠Ahâum. Ahem. Starting today, this will be your home.â Riddle risks another step towards you and promptly stops when your arms fly up to shield your face.
What did the book say? Proceed with caution, use an indoor voice, let the subject approach you⊠I donât expect her to warm up to me right this very second. Still, there has to be some way to show her I mean well⊠If it was Vorpal, Iâd adopt a calm demeanor and make myself appear harmless. Standing too tall would make me seem like Iâm a predator. But that might not work. Sheâs human, too.
âI know youâre scared. Iâd be the same if I was in your place. Thatâs perfectly understandable. You donât know much of this place or who I amâand you might think itâs scary right nowïżœïżœbut I promise this will be good for you. This place is nothing like the ones youâve been at before, okay? Itâs safe. Nothing will hurt you here. Iâm not going to get any closer. You can stay there if thatâs what makes you feel comfortable.â
Minding your skittish temperament, he retreats to the kitchen. When he returns, he notices youâve pulled your hat over your eyes and shaped yourself into a ball in the corner of the room.
Gingerly, he sets his plate on the table.
âBreakfast,â he says. You donât say anything. âItâs good for you. The most important meal of the day, actually. Studies show that eating a healthy breakfast improvesââ He swallows the rest of the statistic, flustered. Now is not the time, Riddle. âT-That aside, eat only if youâre hungry. I wonât force you, but itâs here in case you want it. Iâll be in the room just down the hall if you need me.â
Riddle departs for his study-turned-bedroom. He sits at his desk, opens his notebook, and takes a pause.
Was that the right method of approach? I introduced myself in an amicable manner, I was patient, and I didnât show any signs of hostility. Despite everything, she probably finds my mere presence hostile⊠I shouldnât have shouted like that.
With a regretful groan, he pens a reminder: Keep voice and tone in check. Always.
On some level, he understands. Or heâs trying to, at least. Every time he puts himself in your shoes, he winds up back in his childhood home, sitting at a desk piled high with thick texts on every core subject. And the one responsible for his entrapment in youth? A woman who is more warden than mother. His life has been a predetermined fairy tale since he was conceived. Even now, sitting successful in a relatively cushy position at the lab, he still feels like someone else is writing his story.
Theyâre holding the quill, scrawling his existence onto mystical pages, and heâs stuck following the script, bound by rules both known and unknown.
By the time heâs finished jotting notes, an air of dissatisfaction falls over the room. He should take a walk, clear his head, do something thoughtless. Anything to distract him from the encroaching bitterness of a bad mood. Riddle catches the time on the analog clock. An hour has passed. Itâs been eerily silent. He doesnât worry because he knows thereâs nowhere for you to go.
Still, it doesnât hurt to check.
Unsurprisingly, youâre still plastered to the corner like a fly caught in a spiderâs web. Grey eyes sweep over the room, finding the breakfast he left you untouched and congealed. Heâs about to frown when he notices something peculiar. The floor, which had once been a mess, has been cleaned. Riddleâs thoughts stall out into confused static.
Did she eat the contents off the floor?
Perhaps itâs not so farfetched. If thatâs how youâve been conditioned to eat, itâs only natural youâd follow that habit. He knows about routines well enough, for his entire existence has been lived out in strict, demanding routine, but this habit is one that fills him with an immeasurable pity.
You shouldnât have to do that here. In fact, you shouldnât have had to do that at all. No one should.
âI hope it was delicious,â he says, allowing a smile to bleed into his inflection. âIâm not much of a chef, but Iâll do my best to make sure youâre fed delicious, healthy meals. You wonât have to eat anything off the ground anymore.â
No response. He wasnât expecting one. He knows youâre capable of speaking, for he heard your voice in the lab during the moments where you were kept awake for important procedures. Truthfully, heâd prefer to hear your voice when it isnât filled with sorrow, fear, or a mixture of the two. But this is just the beginning. He doesnât expect results within a day. A start is a start, and patience is a virtue.
âDr. Crewel tells me youâre afraid of humans.â At that, your ears flatten on your head. âI canât begin to imagine the things youâve been through for that fear to have developed.â
Riddle hesitates, unsure of the point heâs attempting to make.
âI understandâsort of, I think⊠Well, not exactly. But, to a relative extent, I understand how it feels to be alone and misunderstood with no one to turn to. Sooo.â
Not even a day in and Iâm ruining it. At this rate, Iâll just look foolish and sheâll never want to trust me, let alone other humans.
âIâll always be here if you need me. My study is right down the hall, and across the way is your bedroom. Dr. Crewelâs left me with plenty of clothes for you, so you can take that coat off if it gets too warm. Your boots and hat as well. Oh, and Iâve also got your vitamins and supplements. Those are important to take. Iâve yet to arrange them, but once I know when and how often youâre intended to take them we can start there.â
He needs this rigidity. Itâs comforting. Itâs familiar.
âThe bathroom is at the end of the hall. Um⊠You can use it at your leisure. The same goes for everything else here. Youâre free to explore this floor or grab something from the cupboard if youâre hungry. I wonât mind.â
It occurs to him then, standing there and watching you huddle, that familiarity is one of the best medicines when taken in healthy amounts.
Inspired, Riddle rushes back to his study, plops down in his chair, and opens to a blank page. Heâs got itâthe perfect schedule. And itâs all formatted around familiarity! He writes like heâs coming up on a deadline, pen soaring across lined paper in a blind rush. His handwriting may be illegible, but the messy scribble is his and his alone. He understands the intent in the chicken scratch.
Adjusting my approach slightly. Going forwards, Iâll build our routine around familiarity, reads the concluding statement of his newly improved three-page plan. He tucks the journal away in a drawer, feeling more ready than heâs ever been.
At first, time felt slow and sluggishâan agonizing crawl into a far-off future. But before Riddle realizes it itâs already been one month, and heâs spent that time dutifully following his schedule. He wakes at seven, showers at eight, and begins breakfast at nine. You sleep on the floor and eat your meals in the sitting room, wordless and anxious. He learned you wonât eat if heâs watching you, so heâs taken to having his meals in the kitchen. It was awkward at first trying to gauge just how quickly youâd eat so that he could clean upâand one time he walked in on you scarfing down your lunch in a rush, which had given you such a fright that you almost chokedâso now you have a little handbell you ring whenever youâve finished.
Since you first started living with him, youâve taken to eating from plates and bowls rather quickly. Riddle surmises heâd be the same if he just learned there are cleaner surfaces to eat food from. But heâs happy with this development. He wasnât expecting youâd take to plates and utensils so rapidly.
In the beginning you regarded most of your meals with suspicion, so Riddle would take tentative bites out of his portions to prove the validity and safety of each. Heâd say the same thing every timeââItâs very delicious. I think youâll like it.ââand you would submit with flattened ears, feasting with your hands. He attempted to teach you how to use the plastic cutlery, but youâd been too fearful to let him get any closer and so he put that plan on pause.
Now, after plenty of dedication and determination, familiarity has been established. Youâve since shed your coat, boots, and hatâthough theyâre kept close in the corner; you wonât let him touch themâand now you dress in the clothes Crewel provided. He moved the suitcase into the room when it became clear you only ever get up to use the bathroom, allowing you to pick and choose outfits as you please.
Riddle wasnât expecting it, but youâre surprisingly self-sufficient. You bathe without complaint and you clean up after yourself, stacking your paper dishes to make collection easier. You even take your vitamins and supplements without pitching a fit! Heâs honestly impressed; his expectations were, admittedly, rather low when he watched you kick and scream in the lab. But this space is different. Itâs nothing like the lab. Maybe you recognize thereâs some sort of comfort in that.
Youâve yet to venture into the guest bedroom, but he wonât push it. This is already good progress and itâs only been a month. You may be nervous around him, hiding at every sudden, loud sound and trembling when he strays too close, but at least youâre somewhat receptive to him and the things he provides.
So itâs a surprise when, on a mostly unremarkable Tuesday evening, you call out to him.
âDr. RoseheartsâŠâ
He forces himself to act normal, replying from the other room in the calmest tone he can muster, âIs something the matter?â
âAre⊠Are you really not going to hurt me?â The question is uttered so softly he almost misses it.
âI would never.â He rises from his chair, monitoring his noise level, and creeps closer. âMay I look at you?â
âUm⊠S-Sure. Thatâs fine.â
He peeks around the corner and waves. âHello.â
You flinch. âH-HiâŠâ
âDo you have a name? Iâm afraid I donât know what to call you.â
âI donât, sir.âÂ
Riddle blinks, taken aback by the formality. âThereâs no need for âsir.â Just call me Dr. Rosehearts.â
You avert your eyes and drag your knees into your chest. Taking a few deep breaths, you mutter a cursory apology.
âItâs all right. If youâre not opposed to it, may I give you a name?â
âOkay.â
He pauses, reflecting on the ones heâd written in his notes based on his observations. âHow does (Name) sound?â
You nod your approval. âT-Thank youâŠfor the name.â
âDonât push yourself if youâre scared or uncomfortable.â
âBut I⊠I want to talk! Ah. S-Sorry for being loudâŠâ
âItâs all right. What would you like to talk about?â
âI⊠Um, sorry. I donât⊠Um.â You bury your face in your knees. âI⊠I canât look at you⊠Iâm sorry.â
Riddle canât believe it. Youâre willingly engaging in conversation. Itâs only been a monthânot even, actuallyâbut youâre talking! He wonders whatâs working because something must be if youâre already trying to overcome your discomfort to speak. Is it the schedule? Is it the routine and all of the little things in between that help make it easier for youâthe handbell and the distance and the patience? Or is it positive social contact you crave, so much so youâre shrugging off the fear in order to make a connection?
You donât have much of a choice regarding socialization, considering heâs the only other living creature here, so maybe this was inevitable. Still, itâs amazing progress. Heâs already itching to notify Crewel of this development.
âI think I can talk if Iâm like this. Looking at someoneâs eyes is too much for me.â
âAre you certain? I donât want you to push yourself.â
âIâm sure. Itâs not so scary if Iâm looking at the floor.â
âAll right.â Riddle gazes at your empty plate. âDinner was good?â
âVery good. Thank you.â
âReally?â He canât stop himself. The question falls free. âDo you really mean that? Youâre not just saying that?â
âI mean it. Itâs delicious.â
Riddle smirks, feeling very accomplished. You canât compare his cooking to anyone elseâs, aside from whatever they fed you at the farm, and so that makes his the best. Itâs an honor, even if said honor is awarded by default.
âIâmâŠnot known for my cooking prowess, so Iâm glad you find it enjoyable.â
âI do. Iâve never had anything like it before.â
He quirks a brow. âWhat have you had?â
âRound and red thing. Um⊠Orange thing with a green stem. Bland foods. Dry stuff.â
âRed⊠Apples?â
âWhatâs that?â
âItâs a fruit. Theyâre sweet. Very nutritional.â
âOh, thatâs what itâs called? I never knew that. I like them a lot.â
âIâll have to buy some then.â
âWill you really?â
âOf course. It wouldnât do you any good if you were forcing yourself to eat something you hate.â
I should know. My motherâs cooking isnât the most delightful cuisine.
Unseasoned some would call it. Ridiculously healthy, down to exact portions and perfect calorie counts. Riddleâs since learned to be more lenient with his meals, eating until heâs full rather than following the strict parameters he was once held to. Instead, he eats what he enjoys and keeps his health in check. He hopes to impart the same wisdom to you. Youâve already lived a nightmare. Now heâd like you to start living a wondrous dream.
âOh. Um⊠T-Thank you.â
âThereâs no need. Iâm just doing my job.â He smiles even though youâre not looking. âIâm aware youâre not very partial to human interaction, but if youâre willing Iâd like to help you get comfortable with it.â
âI canât.â
An immediate rejection. No surprises there.
âWould it be okay if we start small with just me? You donât have to agree. I can leave you alone if youâve had enough.â
âIâŠcan try. Youâre not very scary and youâre not mean. Youâve never forced me to do anything eitherâŠâ
âIâm here to help you. Iâd never do anything to hurt you.â
âDo you promise?â
âI promise.â
âYouâre not lying? You⊠You wonât trick me later?â You lift your head to look at him, warily eyeing his face to search for a fib that isnât there. âYou wonât send me back to the farm or that cold place with the humans?â
I canât promise that last one. Anything but that, he thinks. Once the year expires, youâll be handed over to Crewel, where heâll determine what to do from there under the jurisdiction of the higher-ups. But Riddle canât share confidential information with you, especially since itâs something you wonât want to hear.
âI wonât do any of that. You have my word.â
The entire point of this program is to treat your fears and get you accustomed to humans. By the end of the year, youâll probably be begging him to let you see and meet others. At least, thatâs what he hopes will happen.
âAnd you wonât make me take any sleep medicine?â
âNo needles or pills. I only ask that you continue taking the other medicines as prescribed.â
Nodding your acquiescence, you rise to your feet and take a reluctant step towards him. Silence stretches between the both of you. He watches, anticipating. But then you shake your head and take three steps back, pressing yourself against the wall.
âS-Sorry. I thought I could⊠Never mind.â
âYouâve only been here a short while, but youâre already making an attempt to communicate with me despite your apprehension. Youâre very brave, (Name).â
âW-Well, you havenât given me any reason to be scared. So⊠So I think I can trust you. MaybeâŠâ
Trust is a powerful thing. A responsibility and a privilege all in one. Therefore, he wonât squander it.
That night, while in the process of drafting an email to Crewel, Riddle listens to your hooves on the hardwood as you move down the hall. He glances past his monitor to the small sliver of space between the door and wall, wondering if he imagined it due to his lack of sleep, but then he hears the guest room door creak open and shut softly.
Unbelievable, he thinks, stunned into silent amazement. Sheâs sleeping in the bedroom.
It feels too fast and too slow. Major progress on a minimal timeline. Again, he thinks heâs dreaming and so he steps out of his study to check the sitting room. Itâs empty. Youâve even taken the suitcase with you. His mouth hangs open in muted shock.
Is she starting to feel comfortable here?
What felt like an impossibility at first is gradually becoming a reality.
The schedule worked.
Good things only ever come to those who wait. Perhaps this is a plausible proverb worth its salt. As the weeks pass and you continue to interact with him, Riddle begins to take note of your personality. Youâre not nearly as fiery as Vorpal was, but you are very livelyâso much so that itâs almost hard to keep up with sometimes. Riddle wonders if this is a side effect of the circumstances you came from. Forced to live a life of solitude, in which you were condemned to exist in silence and act as if invisible, youâve taken to the idea of companionship rather swimmingly.
As the old saying goes, you can lead a horse to water, but you canât make it drink. Riddle has done everything in adherence with his own set of regulations, strict in his dedication to personal forbearance. And youâve made miraculous progress, a testament to his persistence. Crewel seems to approve of the results, voicing his opinions in emails worded with pleasant praise. Riddle couldnât have predicted where heâd be by this point, but with this steady stream of improvement he theorizes youâll be more than ready by the end of the arrangement.
He told himself heâd keep a healthy distance, if only to avoid feeling even more sympathy and thereby compromising this study, but he canât help it. Youâre growing on him.
In the wake of everything, heâs managed to amend his own schedule. Riddle thought he could sleep at his desk and all would be well, but you didnât seem to like that he was neglecting his health in order to look after yours. To his surprise, you nagged him: âYouâre a doctor, arenât you? Itâs your job to know someoneâs health, so donât forget about yours.â
Aiming to placate you, he made the sofa in the sitting room his bed. He does that a lotâplacate you. Itâs not his intention to be a doormatâand heâs notâbut he doesnât like seeing you in pain or upset. Once, when he tried to slip out of the house to go grocery shopping, you interrogated him as if he was guilty of some serious crime, fearful that heâd leave and never return. No matter how much he assured you, you didnât believe him and so, wanting to keep your eyes free of tears and your heart unburdened, he decided to order groceries online and have them sent to his doorstep. It was simpler and it chased away any thoughts you might have had regarding an abandonment that would never come to pass.
Riddle doesnât take issue with it. Youâre learning as you go, and heâs realizing that hybrids are much more complex than he once imagined. Of course theyâd be, though. Theyâre half-human, too, possessing much of the same emotional intelligence as complete humans. And sometimes you prove to be more insightful than he isâhe, the researcher who spent the majority of his early twenties shackled to his schoolwork.
He wonders if you have any goals for your life. Any important items on a bucket list you might want to cross off. Or maybe youâve never had the pleasure of indulging in these kinds of musings, for youâve never been allowed that happiness.
Riddle stares at his reflection in the milk, stirring whatâs left of soggy cereal with his spoon. Itâs New Yearâs Eve, but this will likely be the first year sheâs ever felt truly free. Twenty-something years of nothingness⊠I canât imagine what thatâs like.
But he can. Partially. He lived it, grew up with the hollow in his heartâa void that needed to be filled with validation (and sometimes still does today). He was only ever whole when his mother recognized his efforts and told him what was right from wrong.
Heâs not like that anymore, but some days it really does feel like heâs falling back into inherited habits, a caricature of the imperfect.
A paper plate drops down onto the table. Riddle flinches out of his spiral to find you lowering into the seat across from him.
âI hope itâs okay to sit here. Itâs just that⊠Well, you looked sad and lonely eating by yourself. I thought Iâd keep you company. It gets boring sitting in the next room over.â
âRight. Yes, of course.â He coughs, coltish. âIâve finished here, so you donât need to force yourself.â
âWho said I was forcing myself? I want to sit here. If itâs okay, that is.â
âOh. All right then.â
You beam at him, eating as if nothingâs amiss. He sits in silence. This is the first time youâre eating with him. Crewel will enjoy hearing about that in the next email.
âWeâve an hour until the new year,â he says, still awkward despite having known you for a little over three months now. Itâs occurred to him that what he lacks in socializing he makes up for in logic. Although sometimes he envies those who can have stupid, mindless fun and not have to fret over reputations and repercussions. âDo you have any resolutions?â
âResolutions for the next year⊠Whatâre those?â
âTheyâre like goals. Things you hope to accomplish throughout the year. There are all kinds of goalsâpersonal and social and financial.â
âWow. Thatâs a lot.â
âNew Yearâs resolutions are notorious for being forgotten or discarded. Most people usually follow them within the first week before giving up.â
âWhyâs that?â
âThereâs appeal in wanting to fix something youâve been putting off. Sometimes we need excuses to do the things we donât want to.â
âDo you have anything like that?â
Riddle hesitates around his answer. I should call my mother. Itâs been some time. I should also reorganize my study. Itâs starting to look a little cluttered. I should get better at cooking. I should learn new recipesâŠ
âNot exactly,â he says instead. âMy only resolution is to help you.â
Your ears perk up at that, and your tail swings freely from side to side. He cracks a small smile at this visible sign of merriment.
âI want to help you, too! Iâll talk more and Iâll help you in the kitchen. That way youâll never be sad or lonely again.â
âDid I truly look so distressed?â
âIt doesnât fit on your face. I like seeing Dr. Rosehearts when heâs in a good mood, so please feel better.â You hold your hand out. âYouâre the first human to be nice to me. I want to return the favor.â
Riddle peers at your outstretched arm. Youâre standing up and leaning over the table in order to reach him. Itâs an endearing sight. âIâm just doing my job. Itâs nothing special,â he admits, modest.
âBut it is to me. So⊠So thank you. I hope all of your resolutions come true, even if you donât know them yet.â
He nods, finally closing his hand around yours. Itâs warm in his grasp, a rightful fit that fills him with felicity. This is what life is all about, he soon realizes. Itâs not just endless studying or mundane days spent cooped up in the lab. Itâs about simple, slow pleasuresâabout little joys savored in peaceful solitude. Itâs getting swept up in the sweetness of housebound happiness.
Riddle thought this was the stuff of legend, an impossible, idealistic fairy tale. Now he knows thatâs not true because heâs living it, and itâs the most flavorful dream heâs ever encountered.
âOh, that reminds me! Theyâre playing the New Yearâs program on TV. Shall we watch the last few minutes together?â
You gasp, your eyes bright with wonder. âCan we?â
âAbsolutely. I think youâll like it. Do be warned, though. There may be fireworks. I know loud sounds arenât exactly comforting for you.â
Riddle recalls the first time you heard the grandfather clock announce itself with its booming chime. You hid in the corner, trembling all throughout the night. At the time he could only try to talk you through the fear, unable to offer physical comfort. But now youâve grown accustomed to the clock and its sounds.
âI think Iâll be okay. Youâll be with me, right? And you can just turn the volume down if itâs too loud.â
Humming his agreement, he stands from the table. He aims to be suave and falls short, the feeling bleeding into surprise when you release his hand and dash into the sitting room. He clicks his tongue and follows after you, amused.
The room seems much brighter when youâre in it.
âHurry! Hurry! You said thereâs not much time left. I wanna see the countdown.â You pat the sofa insistently.
Riddle claims the space beside you, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. He flips through the channels before landing on the right one. Just in time, too. Itâs two minutes to midnight. With your stare pinned on the screen, Riddleâs free to admire you in secret. Youâre practically vibrating with excitement, shifting and bouncing in one place. Itâs impossible to imagine anyone wanting to hurt you when youâre too good for this world and its humans.
Perhaps thatâs what makes it unfair.
The host holds a champagne flute in one hand and a microphone in the other, lifting it towards her co-host as they practice a playful toast. One minute left and then this tumultuous year will be behind him. He could spend it reflecting on every notable event from every month, on past years lived and lost to loneliness, but that would be futile. Nothing can compare to the time heâs lived with you, for those months are priceless and precious.
A timer displaying ten seconds flashes on the TV, descending through the numbers one by one. You stare, transfixed by the lights and sounds. Riddle watches you, drinking in your wide-eyed expressions like a man parched. The New Year is welcomed silently under his roof. No boisterous celebration needed. Distantly, just beyond his house or within the scene on TV, fireworks resound in joyous, explosive bangs. He intends to wish you a happy New Year, but you lean over and rest your head against his shoulder. He flinches, almost moving away out of instinct, but he remains seated. The contact is new but not terrible.
Opting to bask in the quiet alongside you, he clicks the volume down and watches whatâs left of the program until youâre dozing. Heâs never known peace quite like this before.
And while he guides you, sleepy and disoriented, to your bedroom, he wonders why he was ever trying so hard to stay impartial.
Three weeks into the New Year, Riddleâs woken at the ungodly hour of two in the morning. He blinks through the groggy haze of sleep, blindly feeling around for the switch on the coffee table. Lamplight casts the space in a pale yellow glow. Youâre standing in the hall, fidgeting from hoof to hoof. He blinks, certain heâs dreaming, but you remain.
â(Name)? Itâs late. Whatâs going on?â
âH-Hot,â comes your reply, thick and raspy.
Alarmed, he throws the covers off and sits up on the sofa. You flinch back, the reflex engraved into your being no matter how long itâs been.
âSorry⊠Sorry. I didnât mean to scare you. Justâah. UmâŠâ He swipes his tousled fringe out of his eyes, clumsy and half-asleep. âCome to me instead. Itâll be okay.â
You hesitate for a beat before staggering towards him, knees wobbling all the way. He listens to the shaky clip-clop of your hooves on the hardwood. âFeels weird,â you elaborate. âMy head is all foggyâŠâ
Upon closer inspection, Riddle realizes youâre sweating as if youâve just run a grueling race. Now heâs wide-awake and worried. A potent combination.
âLet me check.â
He makes sure you see his hand first before he reaches to touch your neck, assessing your pulse. Itâs pounding beneath his fingertips, a wild thrum of barely restrained ardor. He moves to touch your forehead next, but you seize his wrist. He stares at you, bewildered.
Shuddering like a leaf in autumn, you guide his hand to the space between your legs. Riddleâs breath hitches when he feels the wet patch soaking through your shorts. He stumbles away in his shock, tearing his arm out of your hold. You shrink back, looking hurt and betrayed.
âFuck,â he breathes, dazed while he watches you rub your thighs together.
Not good.
He knew this was coming, or he thought he knew. Admittedly, it was one of the last things he considered when making plans to house you. A major oversight thatâs come back to bite him.
âW-Whatâs wrong? Is it bad?â You peer at him through lust-lidded eyes, your speech on the verge of slurring. âAm I gonna overheat and die?â
âWhat? No. No, of course not. Itâsâyouâre in estrus. I⊠I shouldâve known better, but I didnât and nowââ
âEstrus? This isnât sickness?â
âHaveâŠâ He swallows hard, palms unnaturally clammy. âH-Have you not experienced this before?â
âMm, not that I remember⊠No, I usuallyâround things. AâŠpill. I was given pills,â you ramble in between high, reedy breaths, lashes fluttering. âDr. Rosehearts, I canât take it⊠Sâhot all over. Make it stop. Please.â
Suppressants, he thinks and drags a hand over his face. Itâs been put off for so long and now that youâre no longer on them itâs crashed into you all at once.
âI see. All right then. WellâŠâ Riddle peeks at you through the cracks in his fingers. âIâm sorry. Had I known⊠If I was more adequately prepared, Iâd have made sure to get you something⊠S-Something to help withâŠitâŠâ
âYou⊠You know how to make it go away, r-right?â
Riddle inhales sharply. âIâŠâ
Riddle Rosehearts, donât you dare, he reprimands himself. You know better.
Does he, though?
His mouth moves faster than his brain, sparing him the consequent morality crisis. Before he can slip into that debate, he instructs you to sit down and spread your legs.
âA-Are you sure thatâll help?â
âI promise,â he whispers, stressing the syllables. You take another moment to watch his face before nodding and obediently following his commands. He lowers to his knees like a sinner on trial, holding yours apart before they can close. âIâm here for you.â
You squeeze your eyes shut, body tensing.
âRelax. Youâre okay. Itâll pass.â
âWhen?â
âItâll be a few days. The estrous cycle for a mare usually lasts around twenty-one days. There are two phasesâyouâre in the first. Youâll feel like this for about a week, but Iâll do my best to help where I can.â
If I can.
You whine when his fingers drag against your skin. They hook around the waistband of your shorts and he slides them down.
Sensitive, he notes, lips curving up into a tiny smile. Cute.
He knows he shouldnât go any further than this. His thoughts are enough to scandalize even the most open-minded researcher, and he canât possibly include this in his biweekly report. Just what would Crewel think of him? What would any of his colleagues think? Youâre a specimen, the focal point of his research, and heâs kneeling before you with a head full of obscene imagery. Riddle really should stop before he crosses the line between right and wrong and surpasses the point of no return.
Thereâs no coming back from thisâno chance of returning to the dynamic of scientist and subject.
But what else can he do? Leave you in this state, where youâd feel sticky and miserable throughout the week? At the very least, if heâs going to throw morals aside and embrace depravity, he might as well relieve you of this biological burden. He can deal with his own later.
If he wanted to be clinical about it, he could dress in his uniform, don a pair of rubber gloves, and put on a surgical mask. Perhaps that would ease his guilty conscience. But heâs already come so far; itâs too late for any of that.
âJust breathe. Youâre all right.â
You do so, inhaling and exhaling in shaky intervals. His dick, half-hard and yearning, throbs against his pajama pants. Pressing two fingers to the damp outline of your pussy, he feels your slick soaking through the fabric and knows itâs pointless to try to will his erection away with bland, boring thoughts. He couldnât even if he wanted toânot when your voice is in his ears, your every gasp more alluring than the last.
âPleaseâŠâ You grab at the blanket, throwing your head back against the sofa. âPlease.â
You donât even know what it is youâre begging for, but youâre begging nonetheless. Riddle finds the sight adorably addictive. He pokes and prods, tracing your folds through your underwear to estimate the exact shape and size. Heâs proven correct when he peels the sodden garment away, tossing it over his shoulder.
âYouâre very pretty here,â he observes, the ribald remark coming out more refined and flattering than he intended. âLike a rose in bloom.â
You shiver and whine impatiently. âHurry⊠Make it go awayâplease, Dr. Rosehearts.â
He wants to take his time exploring, the researcher side of his brain infinitely intrigued. But thatâs not feasible when you look just about ready to melt into a puddle of sweat. So he does away with any ideas of foreplay, abandoning the thought of building tension when itâs already at its peak, and slides two fingers along your puffy slit. You gasp and shiver when those digits circle your clit, massaging the area generously. Heâs not sure what heâs doing at first, the motions foreign to his clumsy fingers, but heâs studied so many anatomy diagrams in his time and it boosts some of his confidence. Thatâs really all that guides him along. Thereâs also the lust, but heâs ignoring it. Sort of.
Not really.
Riddle slides his fingers deeper, amazed at how easily theyâre sucked in. You cry out and buck your hips up to meet his hand.
âM-Moreâoh!â
âGreedy thing,â he mumbles, but there isnât any bite to the non-insult. âIâve only just put them in and youâre already feening for more.â
âSorry. Sorry⊠IâhaaâI canât help it.â
âItâs all right. Only fair, after all.â He glances up at you and smiles angelically. âThis is to be expected. Itâs your first heat.â
âFirst heat⊠You mean thereâs more?â
Riddleâs breath catches in his throat. How should he explain itâthat this will happen every breeding season and thereâs nothing to stave the inevitable? Unless, of course, medicine is used to tamper with hormones and cycles. Riddle wonders if Crewel would send some over if he asked, but that would require telling him about this and he doesnât want to risk being too grossly candid.
âItâsâŠcomplicated. You donât need to concern yourself with the specifics right now. Letâs just focus on getting through this one, okay?â
âOkay.â
His other hand rubs appreciatively along your inner thigh. âGood girl.â
You smile and sink back against the sofa. Riddle sets to work driving his fingers in and out, curling them every now and then to stretch you and admire the way your pussy weeps. Itâll be a pain to clean the couch, but itâs not like heâs particularly attached to it. Heâs due for a new one anyway. Your gasps fill the room with pretty pitches of pleasure. He gazes at your face as it flickers through desperation and desire, both blending together to make you look perfectly blissed-out. If you had any thoughts in that head, theyâre all but pomace now. Surely, otherwise youâd be more coherent in between shameless moans.
Thereâs a side of Riddle that knows, and it takes all of his willpower not to address it. Itâs just part of any animalâs biological clock. Of course youâd be thinking about it, whether consciously or not, during your heat. At the very least, if not your brain, your body recognizes the imperative to sink down on his three fingers all at once as if theyâre a cock.
But he canât lose in his internal war with ethicality. Because if he loses itâll end with you pumped full of as much cum as he can possibly give, and then heâll be known as the man who knocked up his hybrid specimen. Itâs tempting like the worst drug, a sure-fire way to distort his linear logic. Itâs bad; he knows. But it would be so much better to replace his fingers with the real thing and fulfill mutual urges in unison.
I wish.
He canât, so he wonât fall prey to the charm of concupiscence.
It takes a few more determined thrusts and a pinch to your clit, and youâre squirting on his fingers with a pornographic squeal. He stares at the mess dampening the blanket in muted astonishment.
Riddle didnât know a reaction like this was possible.
Heâs humiliated at his inexperience. His lessons in anatomy have always been strictly scientific, and heâs never explored anything outside of that box. Heâs never been horny enough to masturbate to porn either. To think the human body is capable of such a feat when caught in the throes of ecstasy⊠Just what else can you do?
Youâre panting when you come down from your orgasm, eyes pinned on the ceiling. He knows youâre nowhere near satiated and so, after determining youâre okay, he continues his ministrations. Heâs just being greedy now. Can you blame him?
âDr. Rosehearts, I wantââ your fingers wrap around his wrist, testing his restraint, but he resists the temptationâ âI want more⊠Deeper. Bigger. PleaseâŠâ
âI⊠I canât,â he manages, the words strained with regret.
He wants nothing more than to plaster you to the sofa and rut into you with reckless abandon, hard and fast and then soft and slow. Enough times to ensure youâd be staggering on unsteady hooves come morning. Heâd do so in a heartbeat if not for the repercussions and the rules, an entire novelâs worth of them reminding him of the facts. He canât win in a match against nature. Itâs impossible.
âIâll be good. I wonât ask for anything ever again. So pleaseââ
Riddle heaves a mournful sigh. âI want to help, but this is as much as I can doâas far as we can go. Iâm sorry.â
The risks are greater than the reward. I canât.
But he wants to.
I could lose my job. Iâd be outcasted. Theyâd never look at me the same.
You fix your lips into a despairing moue and pat the space beside him. âThen⊠C-Can you come up here? Sit next to me.â
With his fingers still thrust up inside you, he rises from the floor and moves in to kneel on the cushions beside you. His arm wraps around you to keep you steady while the other remains between your legs. This newfound proximity allows you to cling to him, and you fall back onto the sofa with him on top. Riddle adjusts the position to straddle you, trapped between your legs as they close around his waist. He props himself up with his other hand, placed right beside your head. You loop your arms around his neck and drag him down, endeavoring to pin your bodies like priceless art on a wall. He doesnât object, allowing himself to be pulled.
Riddle peers into your glossy eyes. Fairy-tale tears cling to your lashes, trickling down your cheeks in delicate droplets.
âHow do you feel? Any better?â
âStill the same,â you grieve, chest heaving. Your eyes trail down to the very obvious tightness in his pants, and you quickly blink overstimulated tears away. âYou⊠Youâre in estrus, too?â
He almost cums right then when you press your palm against his crotch. Momentarily stunned, he bows his head and tamps down a gratuitous groan.
How, pray tell, is he supposed to win the war when heâs the weakest soldier of all, tethered to his restraint by a flimsy set of morals?
âNo, not estrus. No, this isââ He hisses through his teeth, his brows furrowing. âH-Hold on. If you touch thereâŠâ
As he says it, he rocks against your hand. You squeeze him through his pants, and the hand that had been diligently caressing your cunt stops for a brief second. He canât get carried away, but heâs already on the verge of cumming and youâve only touched him twice. Not even skin to skin but through fabric! That must be a new form of pathetic.
âI wanna help you, too.â
âYesâright, I understand. But itâs notââÂ
Riddle swallows the rest of that sentence, breathing hot and heavy. His attempt to feign composure is weak. He knows thereâs no point to it, but he tries anyway. A wasted effort. Before he can think any further, he reaches down to grab your hand. He lifts it to his lips, hesitates, and then presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You watch him through hazy eyes, warming beneath him like cinders in a hearth.
âIâll be fine. Donât worry about me.â
You grip his hand with renewed affection. âAre you sure? You donât look fine.â
Riddle can feel the blush setting his face aflame. âPerfectly fine. This is normal.â
His fingers delve deeper, searching for that special spot within, and the discussion ends there. Your protests taper off into lewd incoherency. He decides then that heâll buy you a few toys to make up for tonight.
Better bloodless silicone than something with real risk, he concludes, watching you twitch and writhe.
Heâs made up his mind.Â
Or so he thinks.
You reach for his cheek, brushing your fingertips along his jaw. He smiles and leans into your touch. Itâs fleeting, a mere few seconds of sweetness, and then that same hand is at the back of his head. You yank him down with surprising force and smash your lips against his. He freezes like heâs just fallen into arctic waters, his fingers halting inside of you.
Itâs Riddleâs first kiss at thirty-one.
He doesnât outwardly panic, but his mind is a muddle. He should kiss back, shouldnât he? But heâs never kissed before! How does one even go about kissing? Is there a technique he should practice to perfection? Does that even exist? Heâs drowning in so much distracting doubt that he almost misses the way your tongue slides across his lower lip.
If there exists a method to his madness, this is surely it.
Riddle kisses you like heâs dying. Thereâs no rhythm to the exchange. Itâs a mere meeting of mouths and minds, brought together for the singular purpose of hedonistic indulgence. His thoughts are all but dumb mush by the third kiss. Not that he really needs to think about anything at all. Youâre teetering on the edge once more; he can see it on your face. Your ears twitch at every new sound he makes, curious and content. Youâre not afraid.
Heâs so relieved. You trust him, and he trusts you.
Gasping into your mouth, he pulls his hand from between your legs and grabs hold of your hips, dragging you closer. He doesnât need to look to know heâs already soiled his underwear, cum dampening the fabric. All at once he feels like less of a level-headed adult and more of an insatiable adolescent whoâs just learned of sex for the first time. Which, technically, this is his first time. Yours, too.Â
And heâs ashamed. Not because he came from kissing alone, but because he didnât get to do it insideâand itâs a dangerous thought like this one that stokes the shame in his belly until itâs near-volcanic. Despite this, he canât stop himself from rutting against you, still fully-clothed and achingly stiff.Â
âDr. RoseheartsâŠâ
âWhat is it?â he murmurs, pressing his lips to your forehead.
A sob shakes through your body like a seismic tremor. âPlease⊠Please just put it in. I canât take it anymore. Hurts.â
âNext time. For nowâŠâ He swallows the lump in his throat. Itâs not wise to make promises like that, but heâs come so far already. âThis will have to suffice. Iâm sorry.â
You nod even though you look like you want to argue. To make up for it, he peppers your face with quick kisses until a dreamy grin sprawls on your face.
âThere we are. A pretty smile for a pretty lady. No sadness, okay?â He brushes your clit again and youâre gone, tipped over the edge into a mind-numbing climax. âJust relax for tonight. Youâre in capable hands, my dear.â
The hours stretch on into a vicious cycle of hot and cold. You emerge from the haze long enough to snack on apple slices and toast before youâre inevitably pawing at his arm for assistance. He suspects the days that follow will be the same, exhausting not only his body and its physical and mental capacities but his patience as well. Itâs nothing he canât handle. He didnât survive years of higher education just to lose to his dick. What sort of researcher would he be if he allowed that to happen?
Embarrassingly, the first item on Riddleâs list for next monthâs necessities is a box of condoms. I wonât need it, but itâs important to be prepared, he reasons. Just in case. But even he knows thatâs a bald-faced lie.
So he decides heâll get two boxes.
Partway through the program, Riddle receives a benumbing email. Notwithstanding the upbeat, jazzy notes spilling from the record player, the melody doesnât put his frazzled nerves to rest. If anything, it serves as background music for his worries.
Iâve been in contact with the higher-ups. Theyâre quite impressed with your results. If all continues to go well, we might just be able to find a home for her. A few buyers have already expressed interest. Keep up the fine work, Dr. Rosehearts.
- Divus Crewel
Riddle must have read those five lines a dozen times before he decides to confront the truth. The lab is making plans to sell you after rehabilitation.
âThereâs no feasible way⊠What is he thinking?â Riddle mumbles, scrolling through old emails to distract himself. âThis is a process. He canât justâhe canât shove her into society and expect all to be well! Sheâs not some pet to be sold off either.â
He lowers his head onto his desk, fighting the urge to yawn and simultaneously filter through the stages of grief. Itâs late. He should get to bed. But how can he sleep with this weighing heavy on his mind?
âRidiculous,â he snaps with a scoff, returning to the email once more. âRisible, even. I wonât allow it.â
His fingers tap the keys one by one, hesitant at first. Eventually, he types a harsh, angry message that reads more like a rant than a respectful email. Riddle simmers in that tension while he deletes every word. It helps a littleâgrounds him enough to start drafting a real email. He types in time with the energetic sax and drums, each blending together to form a seamless flow. Relaxing in his office chair, he taps his foot to the rhythm.
Just then, his door opens. He sees your ears over the top of his computer and pushes away from his desk to take you in from head to toe. You look comfortable in your satin nightgown, tail frizzy and tangled from rolling around in bed. Heâs reminded of the times heâd brush Vorpal, smoothing down his coat with even strokes.
âDr. Rosehearts?â you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. âAre you okay?â
âDid I wake you? Sorry⊠Iâm a little busy with work right now and I lost track of the time.â He glances at the record player. âIâll stop this so you can go back toââ
âOh, no! No, please donât. I like it.â
âAh, is that so? In that case, come closer. Letâs listen together.â
He lifts the tonearm to play the song from the beginning. Music soon filters out of the turning vinyl. You hurry to his side, placing your hands on his desk and leaning in close to peer at the record player. He watches your tail swish languidly.
âAmazing⊠How does it do that?â
âPlay music?â You nod eagerly, and he smiles. âThe needle runs across every groove on the record, and from there it takes the vibrations from the moving record to make sound.â
âWow. Thatâs so fancy.â
Riddle chuckles. âActually, itâs a bit dated. Iâve had it for quite some time. Nowadays, everyoneâs streaming music from their phones because itâs easier.â
Thatâs what the youth do, right? he thinks desperately, as if you might correct him.
âBut this is so wonderful! Iâve never seen anything like this before. Itâs likeâŠmagic.â
âIs it really?â Riddle doesnât realize heâs propped his elbow against his desk, his cheek resting casually in his palm. He snaps out of the daze moments later and clicks the email away even though he knows you canât understand it. âHereâpull up that chair. You can move the books.â
You do as youâre told, dragging it over and plopping down without hesitation. âSo whatâs this song called?â
âItâs a classic. âFly Me to the Moon,â to be more specific.â
âWhat does that mean?â
âItâs a metaphor of sorts. Heâs singing about how much his loved one makes him feelâthat he feels very happy whenever heâs with them. Up in the clouds. On the moon. Of course this is an impossible feat for just anyone to accomplishâflying to the moon, I meanâso that alone is supposed to describe just how elated he is with his lover.â
âLover? Is that like you and me?â
He knows you donât mean it in that context, but he still flusters. Awkwardly, he coughs into his hand. âN-Not exactly⊠This is a love song. A romantic love song.â
âOhhh.â You gaze at the record as it spins, head cocked to the side. âI donât get it.â
âItâs likeââ Riddle pauses, unsure of how to properly explain the concept of romance when he himself has never understood it. His mother and father are not a romantic standard by any means. Still, he has to make an effort. âThere are different kinds of love. Romantic love isâŠlove in which you can share intimacy and affection with another person. Like kissing or holding hands. Dating and marriage. At least, I think itâs something like thatâŠâ
âThen what about that time you helped me during my heat? Is that also romantic love?â
Riddle shakes his head, recalling that night with ferocious clarity. âThatâs a little different.â
âHow so? We kissed, didnât we?â
âY-Yes⊠But that was just a physical way of expressing desire.â
âDesire?â
âYou donât have to be in love to kiss someone. Sometimes itâs a matter of physical attraction. Besides, you werenât thinking clearly that night.â
Neither was I, but thatâs besides the point.
âOh. But, Dr. Rosehearts, I like you because youâre nice. I think youâre very smart, too. And youâre always here to help! Physical or not, youâre amazing.â
Riddle blinks back at you. Your bold, plain-spoken nature never fails to surprise. He exhales a long breath, as if heâs losing air and slowly deflating, and places his hand on your head. You allow him to pet you, your eyes falling shut. He scratches behind your ears, carding his hand through your scalp. A wave of intense sorrow washes over him. In just two months, youâll be on your way out the door and heâll never see you again. He canât allow that. But what else is he supposed to do to prevent that? He has a job to do and rules to follow. What he really needs is more time. More months to stall the inevitable.
A year passes much too quickly when itâs lived out in serenity. Heâs gotten too used to living like thisâto the beauty and bliss of friendly coexistence.
âThank you for saying so,â he murmurs, his hand sliding down to your face. You lean into his palm, eyes flicking open to watch him. He runs his thumb over your cheek.
In just two months, heâll lose the best thing thatâs ever happened to him.
The song swells once more before trickling into a joyful conclusion. His arm falls to his side.Â
âLetâs listen to another one, yes?â
âCan we really?â
âWe can listen to as many as youâd like.â
âYouâre the best!â
With a chuckle, Riddle rifles through the many records on his shelves, each organized by decade and genre. He skims through them until he lands on one in particular, pulling it free from its confinement. He admires the design on the sleeve for a short moment before taking the record out and exchanging it with the former. Itâs packed away in its original casing, placed back on the shelf in its rightful spot.
âThis oneâs good, too. I think youâll like it.â
âWhatâs it called?â
He sets the tonearm down. ââCanât Take My Eyes Off You.â Another classic.â
You sit and listen to the music alongside him, absorbing every honeyed lyric. And then, after the instrumental has reached its excitable peak, you grin knowingly. âYou sure like your love songs.â
Riddle laughs sheepishly. âIt does seem like that, doesnât it?â
Some of his first records were albums and single songs purchased from his time abroad. He canât remember what compelled him to poke his head inside the little record store set into some obscure, hole-in-the-wall location in a quiet corner of the city. Maybe it was curiosity or a longing for a new learning experience. Heâll never forget the wise words of the shop owner, though: âMusic is special in that itâs like food. Thereâs something for everyone. And if nothing else, music brings us together and allows us to forget our troubles for a moment to soak in the song itself.â
Since then, Riddleâs developed an affinity for collecting records. New and old, theyâve filled the shelves in his study over the years. The shop ownerâs words are abundantly clear now. Sharing music is a lovely thing. Sitting with you, delighting in the stories and messages woven into beautiful instrumentals, Riddle realizes heâs never known this feeling before. This gentle connection. Maybe heâs happy someone else can appreciate these songs alongside him, or maybe thereâs more to it than simple enjoyment.
âLove songs are so beautifulâŠâ
He hums his agreement, basking in the singerâs whimsical voice as he admits, ââAnd let me love you, baby. Let me love youâŠââ
You fall silent then, and he assumes youâre listening and imagining all sorts of fluffy scenarios to pair with the tune. But when he turns to check if youâre still sitting there, he finds you staring at him.
âIs this one no good? I can change it. Would you like to hear something from another decade or in another language? We donât have to stay in the fifties and sixties.â
âNo, this is fine. Iâm just looking at you.â
âMay I ask why?â
âYou looked so peaceful. The Dr. Rosehearts I know usually looks stressed or sleepy.â
Now acutely aware of the dark circles under his eyes, Riddle winces. He does have that look about him, doesnât he? The gloomy, sleep-deprived sort that puts into question whether heâs the sociable type.
âIâll make an effort to fix my schedule.â
âPlease do so as soon as possible. You have to promise.â
He snorts, amused. âI promise, Dr. (Name).â
Your once-serious expression softens, and you giggle. âYouâre the doctor here, not me!â
Iâm not a very good one, he thinks. Good doctors donât feel these things for their patients.
Frankie Valli fills the quiet with his heartfelt declarations: âI love you, baby. And if itâs quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night.â
Heâs not sure what heâs doing when he leans forward. The tug is magnetizing, tension budding and blossoming in time with the rhythm of the song. You meet him halfway to close the gap. Itâs an innocent peck. Nothing as libidinous as last time. You drift away slightly, still staring into his soul. If he felt like it, he could move in for another kiss.
âC-Can weââ
And he does. Unlike last time, his lips mold to yours naturally. Heâs still not very confident in his technique, or lack thereof, but this time heâs led on by a desire more potent than bodily cravings. Riddle places his hands on the chair to cage you in. You reciprocate in this manner, grabbing his shoulders to drag him closer. The both of you kiss each other breathless, unable to keep away. You dig your fingers in his hair and melt into the messiness. Riddle knows heâs not dreaming. That assumption withers into nothing after the fifth kiss.
Itâs when the song has ended that he pulls back, his heart in his throat and his eyes blown wide. A single strand of saliva connects your mouths, snapping when you move further back. The feeling that courses through his body, electrifying his nerves with pinpricks of anxious excitement, is exhilarating.
âYes,â he manages, hoping youâll understand. His fingers interlace with yours. âYes, we can.â
The tonearm is lifted from the record, but thatâs as far as he gets before youâre seizing his wrist and yanking him towards your bedroom. He just manages to snatch a handful of condoms from his desk drawer on his way out.
Rather impatiently, you shove him down on your bed. He stares, stunned by your intrepid temperament, so much so that heâs almost boneless when you make quick work of his clothes. Theyâre thrown aside in your haste. You strip yourself of your nightgown next. The frilly fabric pools at your hooves. Heâs not sure why his first instinct is to give you privacy, shielding his view. But then youâre crawling onto the bed and pulling his arms aside. You peer down at him, smiling hopefully.
Lying flat on his back, Riddle thinks he just went to Heaven and met an angel.
You palm him through his underwear, and heâs ashamed that heâs already hard and leaking pre-cum. You donât seem to mind. In fact, he watches your tongue as it darts out to wet your lips. The one thing he deprived you of in the midst of your heat when you needed it most, and now you get to have it. Heâd be a fool to try to deny the fact that heâs also just as eager to sink himself inside you and make good on a promise he uttered long ago.
He squeaks when you seat yourself on his lap and wiggle your hips like a slut. Despite the fabric preventing raw skin to skin contact, he can still feel the outline of your pussy pressing against his erection. Heâs dizzy and overwhelmed, still in disbelief that this is even happening.
âI think about you a lot,â you admit suddenly, and his eyes flick from your waist to your face.
âWhat?â he mutters oh-so-smartly.
âWhen Iâm in the bath, I think about that night you helped me and Iââ You bite your lip, coy and shy and so cute. As if you couldnât get even more appealing. Oh, youâre driving him wild. âI touch myself and pretend itâs you. I use the toys you got me, but itâs not the same. Itâs not you.â
Riddleâs eyes widen to a comical size. âDoesâŠâ His mouth dries up. âDoes it have to be me?â
âYes, it has to be you. Who else?â
His fingers dance along your bare stomach, tracing a path towards your breasts. Indeed, who else? Who else if not him, the only human qualified to care for and protect you?
âYou shouldâve told me sooner. I wouldâve helped.â
âWhy didnât you before?â
âIt was reckless. I couldnâtâŠâ
You rock your hips. He hisses through his teeth. âI donât care about risks and consequences.â
But I do.
Does he, though? Does he, Riddle Rosehearts, really, truly, honestly care about those things? He thinks he doesâknows he ought toâbut he doesnât. Not this time.
Heâs still going to use a condom. So maybe he cares a little. Heâs not that impetuous.
It takes some persuading, but he manages to convince you to get off of him long enough so he can pull your panties off. His underwear goes next. He intends to switch to missionary, hoping to be romantically memorable, if not predictably traditional. But you push him back down. He doesnât object to this. Witnessing you take charge is more fascinating than anything he had in mind. Most of his ideas for tonight are plainly vanilla. Heâd probably cum if you traced the palm lines on his hand.
âAre you sure youâre ready?â he asks, fumbling to unwrap a condom. Heâs impressed when he rolls it on one-handed. He practiced that same trick weeks ago, determined to master it then and impress you later. Itâs not a useful skill by any means, but it looks attractive. âIf youâd rather we take things slowlyââ
âI canât wait any longer. Please,â you beg, querulous. âI need you right now or Iâll die!â
He laughs at your dramatics. âWell, in that case, we best not delay.â
Riddle drinks all of you in as you wrap your hand around him. He sucks in a shuddering breath, tensing on instinct when you line yourself up. The head of his cock prods at your folds. Suddenly, he has no idea what to do or where to put his hands.
âRelax. Itâs okay,â you murmur, squeezing him for good measure. He throbs in your hand. How is he going to restrain himself when heâs already on the precipice? Youâll be the death of him.
Your face contorts with concentration, brows knitted and lips pursed, and you bore down slowly. He doesnât want to miss a moment of this, so he forces his eyes open. Awkwardly, he searches for your hands and, finding them, holds on tight. You offer him a wobbly smile, your fingers curling sweetly around his. Itâs a slow process. You donât seem to be in any rush and neither is he. Inches are swallowed gradually. Heâs certain itâd feel better without the protection, but thatâs something to consider for the future. Right now heâs focused on you, on the way you gasp and dig your nails into his hands, on the way your walls clench around his cock in a slick, sinful embrace.
âYouâre doing so well.â One of his hands slides from your grasp to rub your hip. âTake your time.â
âDr. Roseheartsââ you place your hand over his, flusteredâ âDr. Roseheartsââ
âRiddle,â he blurts. âMy first name.â
âRiddle⊠Itâs lovely just like you.â
He flushes scarlet up to his ears. âIs it?â
âMhm. Why didnât you tell me?â
âI⊠I donât know. I guessââ he groans when you shift on his lapâ âguess it never occurred to me.â
I was trying to distance myself. If Iâm Dr. Rosehearts to you, itâs easier to avoid the obvious. He sighs, but it comes out pleasured instead of wistful. What even is the obvious?
He canât admit it outright because then it would be realâmore so than a passing thought. He canât even be sure if you feel the same! Why ruin a good thing? Riddle wonders if that question matters as much as it used to. After all, none of this will mean anything in two months.
âIâm gonna start moving.â
Your voice brings him back to the present. Why is he even looking ahead in the first place? Two months is plenty of time. Even though he soothes himself with this fact, he knows itâs not enough. Heâs acting greedy and spoiled, coveting more than just temporary tranquility.
Heâd grouse that itâs not fair, but itâs never been fair. He has no room to voice his complaints, and even if he does heâs certain he wonât be heard. This is a reality he must accept.
You lift yourself off of him and slam down in one quick motion. Throwing your head back, you gasp in unison with him. Itâs snug and warm, but itâs perfect. You squirm and search for the right pace while he encourages you with a patient smile. Within no time, you settle into the rhythm, fucking yourself on him like a natural, and he can only admire your figure from below, his hands permanently laced with yours. You look and feel soft. Itâs the only adjective flitting about in his head while he follows your bouncing tits, entranced like theyâre the most fascinating thing on the planet. And to him, a virgin at thirty-one, they most certainly are.
The hand that had been petting your waist glides over to the space between your legs. He marvels at the way youâre stretched around him, inches sliding in and out with your gyrations. Loud, bawdy moans spill from your parted lips. Finding his confidence, he grinds his thumb into your clit to watch you come further undone. It prompts more whines from the depths of your throat.
âYes! Oh, thank you, Dr. Rosehearts. Please keep touching me there!â
âUnless you tell me, I donât intend to stop.â He didnât even know his voice could reach a pitch as deep as it does, tinged thick with a ravenous lust. âYouâre such a pretty girl⊠So sweet for me.â
âItâsâooh!âjust like the song.â You tilt your head at him, eyes glittering in the dimming dark. âI canât take my eyes off of you.â
Riddle thinks heâs losing his mind because, though itâs so far from funny, he giggles like an infatuated schoolgirl. ââYouâre just too good to be true. Canât take my eyes off of you,ââ he quotes, beside himself with euphoria. He meets your plush ass halfway, bucking his hips up into you. Your grip on his hand tightens. âDo you remember the rest? âPardon the way that I stareâŠââ
ââThereâs nothinâ else to compare.ââÂ
ââThe sight of you leaves me weak. There are no words left to speak.ââ
âThatâs it!â A bright smile blesses the beautiful face thatâs left him besotted. Itâs taken time, but youâve blossomed under his care. Heâs proud of you. âIâve got good memory, donât I? I only listened to it once, but I remembered the line.â
âYou have excellent memory,â he praises, rewarding you with another gentle massage to your clit.
âWill youâmmh, haa⊠Will you play more love songs for me?â
Riddle hesitates. Itâs just music. There doesnât have to be any deeper meaning involved, and he doesnât want you to get the wrong idea. He thinks he should distance himself, dig a cavern before he falls any further, but thatâs impossible when your bodies are so closely connected. And he likes sharing slices of his life with you. Itâs like marriage but without the legalities or ceremony. Youâve never had a surname of your own. You could take his and the unofficial could become official within the confines of this little paradise.
âO-Of course,â he answers around a groan, his composure cracking.
The conversation falls apart when you set to work fucking yourself on him. Itâs salaciously slapdash, the way the squelch of skin on skin reverberates in the room. Heâs nearing the edge of ecstasy, as are you, and he feels free. Unbound by the rules, if only for tonight.
He allows himself to wade through passionate waters, his body ablaze with unquelled vehemence. Time trickles onwards. He rubs you to your peak, witnesses you squirt with a noisy cry. You call out for him and something in him snaps. His fingers dig into your hips and he drags you down on top of him. Riddle fucks you through your orgasm, fueled by your tearful gaze. You babble senselesslyâhow good it is, how you never want him to stop, how itâs too much and too little and just enough all at once. Itâs not long until heâs reaching his apogee. Eyes shut, lips pressed in a thin line, he holds you still when he spills over.
Riddle comes back to himself seconds later, blinking through the fog. You pet his hair fondly, flopping beside him. Instinctively, he brings his hand up to your head to return the gesture. The two of you are a tacky, breathless mess, reeking of sex and sin. Itâs an invigorating smell, waking him right up.
âAgain,â you plead.
You shimmy enough for his cock to slide out. Riddle doesnât know his limits yet, but he expects to be mostly flaccid. So itâs a pleasant surprise to find heâs still somewhat hard. Vibrating with a woozy sort of giddiness, his stomach a butterfly garden, he removes and ties the condom filled with his spend. He almost doesnât believe it. His first time with you. More than just fingers and kisses. Sex.
He pulls you closer, flipping the position so that youâre caged beneath him and heâs on top. âGive me a minute and then weâll go again.â
You open your mouth to demand more, so he grants that unspoken wish with a kiss. Your fingers wrap carefully around his cock while you lick languidly into each otherâs mouths. Itâs dangerous, the hold you have on him; he ought to have a new condom within reach. Just in case.
âYouâre not tired?â
Riddle grins, smug. âI should be if I want to fix my schedule.â
You pout. âDo that tomorrow.â
âDoctorâs orders?â
âDoctorâs orders.â
The night is long and sleepless, but, tangled in your arms, itâs the most bliss heâs ever known.
Like a dreadful harbinger of calamity, destined to descend at the expiration of two months, Crewel arrives a day earlier than what Riddle was expecting.
âShit,â he mutters, carding his fingers through his hair. âShit. Shit. Shit.â
âDr. Rosehearts?â You peer at him, concerned. âWhatâs wrong?â
âThis isnât what we agreed upon,â heâs rambling to himself, pacing before the door. âI specifically said I would bring her in tomorrow. We still have one more day. This isnâtâthis is completely unfair!â
âDr. Rosehearts?â You tap his shoulder and he startles.
âOh, (Name)! Hello. Did I worry you? Iïżœïżœïżœm a littleâŠtroubled. Itâs nothing I canât handle.â He smooths his hair down. âCan you wait in the bedroom? Iâll be back. I just need to talk to someone. I wonât be more than a few minutes.â
Riddle flashes you a soothing smile thatâs mostly forced, but it does the trick. You linger for a moment before turning and retreating down the hall. Inhaling a steadying breath, he grips the handle and steps outside. The door shuts softly behind him. He feels brittle, like heâll break at the slightest tap.
âDr. Crewel, this isnât what we discussed.â
âI thought Iâd come a day in advance. That shouldnât be a detriment to the results.â
âIt is, actually. I havenât had time to tell her aboutâŠâ He shakes his head. âYou canât take her. Not today. She isnât ready.â
âIf your emails are any proof, Iâd say sheâs plenty ready.â Crewel folds his arms and eyes Riddle dubiously. âFurthermore, I donât believe this is the proper place to hold a private conversation.â
âI urge you to reconsider. SheâsâDr. Crewel, itâs only been a year. Sheâs not ready for other humans.â
âBut sheâs at peace with you.â
âAnd she wonât be with youâor anyone else, for that matter.â He steps in front of Crewel when he strides forward to grab the door knob. Riddle bristles, threatened. âI refuse to throw her back into an unsafe environment. We canât even be sure the buyers will treat her well.â
âOf course we can. Background checks exist for a reason. Sheâll go to a good home.â
âShe doesnât need a âgood home.â This is wrong, Dr. Crewel. I agreed to rehabilitate her. That was all.â
âAnd youâve done just that. Nothing more and nothing less.â Crewel sighs. âDr. Rosehearts, I understand your attachment is coming from a place of sympathy, but a good trainer knows to separate himself from the pup heâs looking after.â
Youâre wrong.
Riddle opens his mouth to object, but Crewelâs eyes narrow. âBefore you speak, I advise you to take your surroundings into account.â
With a stiff nod, he submits and opens the door. Crewel steps inside and peers around the interior in search of you. Itâs then when Riddle notices the pack slung over his shoulder. It reminds him of a medical kit. His heart drops into his stomach.
âWho are these buyers? Are they safe? Trustworthy? Do they have any criminal offenses noted on their records?â
âThe Felmiers are a reliable lot. They run a family-owned apple orchard in Harveston. They have a son around her age. Iâm certain sheâll get along with him. Arrangements have already been made to deliver her by next week or so. Should all go well, I intend to follow that schedule.â
Riddle stares at him, gutted like a goldfish.
âYouâŠâ He barks out a hollow, disbelieving laugh. âYouâre serious?â
âDid you think I wasnât?â Shrugging the pack off, Crewel sets it on the table. He slides on a pair of latex gloves before procuring a syringe from inside. He flicks the needle before turning towards Riddle. âNow then, is the hybrid around?â
âAre you mad?â he hisses, intercepting Crewel on his way down the hall. âNo needles. No sedatives. Sheâll go peacefully if you give me time to talk to her. With all due respect, Dr. Crewel, your sudden arrival will stress her out. Sheâs not expecting you. Sheâs only comfortable with me.â
âThatâs why I plan to put her to sleep. We can avoid most of that.â Crewel gestures to the syringe. âWould you prefer to do it instead?â
âIâd prefer to do it another way.â
âIâm afraid we donât have time for that.â Crewel brushes past him. âIâd like to be back at the lab before noon.â
Riddle grits his teeth, frantically scraping his brain for a solution. There has to be something he can doâanything! Heâs a researcher; itâs in his blood to be innovative and intelligent. But what else can he do? He has to protect you. He has to comfort you. Heâs supposed to do all of these important tasks, and Crewelâs ruining it. Putting hard work and progress aside, he doesnât want to destroy the trust youâve placed in him.
Before he can get swept up in a panic, your frightened whinny pierces the air. His heart crumbles in his chest.
âDr. Crewel, wait!â He hurries into the room just in time to find the lead researcher gripping your arm. You lock stares with him from where youâre cowering in the corner, tears running down your cheeks in salty rivulets. The uncertainty flashing in your eyes is almost tangible, spotted with flecks of fear. âDonât panic. Itâs okay! Heâs justâweâre bringing you back to the lab forâŠtests. Youâll be okay. He wonât hurt you.â
But thatâs a lie. All of it is.
You attempt to yank your arm back, but Crewel holds firm. âBe a good pup and listen to Dr. Rosehearts.â
âNo! Let go of me!â You thrash, kicking out with your hooves and narrowly missing Crewelâs ankle. You glance fiercely at him, your expression broken and betrayed. âDr. Rosehearts, you promised! You said you wouldnâtâyou promised!â
He did, didnât he?
With a clenched jaw, Riddle turns his back on you. Thereâs nothing he can say or do to make it better. You fight Crewel with everything youâve got, crying out when the needle pierces your skin, and you continue to struggle up until the sedative takes effect. Eventually, your sniffles and sobs grow silent and your body falls still, breathing evening out into something peaceful. Riddle frowns at you when he turns around.
âYou care. That much is apparent,â Crewel comments as he gathers you in his arms, passing Riddle the empty syringe. He stares at it, frigid and unfeeling. âBut I expect you to exhibit just a little more professionalism next time.â
âOf course. It wonât happen again,â he grinds out, stepping aside to allow Crewel passage. âIâll pack the suitcase and then we can be off.â
The drive to the lab is made in stifling silence. Riddle follows behind Crewel, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles blanche. By the time heâs made it to the facility, heâs a numb husk.
I shouldâve done something.
But what can he do? This was unavoidable.
Like an empty puppet, he walks woodenly beside Crewel. Heâs back where he began: the examination room where he first encountered you. Only this time itâs not for a meeting but, rather, a departure. Crewel lays you down on the metal table, delegating orders to the few lingering assistant researchers. They spring into action and strap you down. Itâs the same rigmarole as before. Nothing new.
âThe Felmiers⊠Have you met them in person?â he asks, absentmindedly skimming the file on the family in question. He reads what he can stomach and, though he hates to admit it, they really do seem like a safe match for you.
âWeâve talked over the phone a few times.â Crewel studies your hooves, checking each in case youâre in need of new horseshoes. Unlikely. Riddle made sure to reshod you two weeks ago. âYouâre welcome to accompany me to their farm. Iâm sure the hybrid would appreciate a familiar face.â
âIâll consider it.â He sets the file down on the counter before reaching into an open drawer to procure cotton swabs, gauze, and antiseptic wipesâamong a few other useful items. âI would like a moment alone with her once sheâs awake.â
âIâll give you ten minutes to clear the air. Is that enough?â
Riddle considers the speed at which his deft hands work. âTwenty would be better. Sheâll be disoriented and frightened when she wakes. Sheâll need time to settle down so that I can properly explain her situation.â He glances over his shoulder at Crewel. âIâll need a sedative in case she lashes out.â
Crewel nods towards an assistant researcher. âGet that for him, will you?â
She nods and speeds out the door. By the time sheâs returned, the rest of the researchers have finished their assessment of you. Crewel smiles approvingly.
âSheâs much healthier than she was a year ago.â
âAside from correcting her eating habits, I made sure she took her vitamins and supplements.â Riddle rifles through another drawer for a scalpel and forceps. âWe exercised regularly. Walked laps in the house. Stretches in the morning and at night.â
âGood.â Crewel runs a gloved hand through your tail. âI assume you used the special shampoo I recommended?â
âOf course. (Name) enjoyed it. Said it was very gentle on her hair.â
âYou named her?â
âWell, I wasnât going to let her live nameless under my roof,â he snaps, feeling around for the bottle of enzymatic detergent in the very back of the cabinet. He places it beside the growing pile on the countertop, pauses to reflect on what else heâll need, and then crosses the room to grab a few cups from another shelf. As he pours the substance, he adds, âDid you expect me to call her âhybridâ for the duration of her stay?â
This should be enough, he thinks, dropping the surgical tools in to soak.
âNo. Although it did surprise me. Thereâs no mention of that name in your reports.â
âI wrote them in accordance with our protocol, hence why sheâs referred to as the hybrid specimen.â
âI see. In any case, good work, Dr. Rosehearts. Youâve done well.â
âI always do.â Riddle smiles thinly. He doesnât feel proud. He feels filthyâa liar whoâs broken his promise.
You donât deserve this. He gazes forlornly at you. You shift in your sleep, your ears perking as if listening.
Crewel notices you jerk in and out of slumber and snaps his fingers. The assistant researchers file out at once. âTwenty minutes,â he reminds Riddle as he departs. âKeep her calm.â
Riddle nods, watching the door slide shut behind Crewel. And then, after heâs disappeared around the corridor, he bounds over to lock it. The glass frosts over. Privacy at long last.
He yanks another drawer open in search of latex gloves and a surgical mask. Finding them, he heaves a relieved sigh and dons both.
âYou⊠I trusted you,â you croak, struggling weakly on the metal table.
Riddle pivots on his heel. âIâm sorry. Iââ He surges forward and stops when you squeeze your eyes shut in fearful anticipation. âIâm not going to hurt you.â
âYou already did.â
âAnd thatâs inexcusable. I shouldnât have lied to you. I shouldâve told you sooner. But Iââ He hesitates, frowning behind his mask. âIâm going to fix things, okay? You have to trust me on this.â
You shake your head slowly. âI canât. Because of you, the other human⊠You let him⊠The needle and the sleep medicineââ
âI know. I know and Iâm sorry.â
âYou promised, Dr. Rosehearts.â Feeble like a foal, you tug against your restraints. âPlease donât send me back⊠Iâm begging youâŠâ
âI wonât! (Name), Iâd never. Iâm here to help you.â He taps the needle twice. âWeâll talk later. I donât have much time. Please cooperate.â
Your eyes slide from the ceiling above to the syringe. Thatâs when the real struggle begins. Animalistic, driven by instinctual dread, you thrash on the table. Your shrieks are shot through with stress, each whinny a reminder of unpleasant pain.
âStay away from me! Get away! Donât come any closer! Dr. RoseheartsâRiddle, please donâtâŠâ
He hardens his resolve, wipes the area on your arm with a prep pad, and holds tight. âIâm sorry, but I must do this. Youâll understand soon enough.â
The needle pricks your skin. You hiccup around a blubbery sob.
âItâs okay,â he whispers, rubbing the area to soothe you. âThereâs nothing to be afraid of. Iâm going to be here every step of the way.â
âNo⊠No, please donât. Riddle, I wanna go home. Take me home.â
âAnd you will. Soon. I promise.â He stands dutifully at your side, watching the sedative run its course. Time drags on. Your eyelids flutter shut and snap back open. Youâre desperately trying to stay awake. âRest well, (Name). You wonât feel a thing.â
Your fight seeps away just as your body grows sluggish and still. âDonât hurt me, Dr. RoseheartsâŠâ
He smiles even though you canât see it. âThatâs a good girl. Just relax. Iâm here for you.â
And with that, you fall.
He works swiftly, undoing the shackles and flipping you over onto your back. You slump like a limp, boneless fish, arms hanging loosely. If the circumstances were different, heâd be a bit more careful in handling you. But heâs working on a tight time constraint and thereâs no room for error or struggle.Â
Calm down. You can do this. Steady hand. Steady mind.
He exhales softly and then reaches to undo the tie at the back of your gown. The clothes you originally arrived in are packed away in a bag. He hopes you arenât particularly attached to them because theyâll likely be left behind after heâs finished.
I think I could work at a coffee shop, he muses while wiping you down with another pad. Or I could do freelance work. Something low-profile.
His fingers waltz across your back, pressing down in search of a bump. He finds it right where he expects it to be: between your shoulder blades. Heâs about to do something bad. Something against the rules. But, as he retrieves the tools from the cup and dries them off, he knows this is for the best. You canât survive on your own in some quiet corner of the world. It doesnât matter if Harveston is safe and peaceful. It doesnât matter if the Felmiers will take care of you.
You belong with Riddle. Heâs meant to look after you. Itâs part of his job as a researcher. Itâs because heâs the first human to have ever treated you with compassion that heâs allowed to do this. What may look like a bad thing to everyone else is just a step in the right direction. This is good.
He needs you just as much as you need him.
Riddle cuts into soft skin with precision, slicing along the area in which the microchip is contained. His heart is thudding in his chest, but he doesnât let the idea of getting caught and punished deter him. He knows itâs wrong. He knows there will be severe repercussions. He knows heâll never be able to show his face around the lab ever again. But if thatâs the price he must pay in order to protect you from dirty, deceitful humans, heâll gladly forsake his lofty station.
Anything to be able to spend the rest of his life with you.
He unearths the chip and plucks it out with the forceps. It comes free with minimal resistance. After setting it aside, Riddle pats the bleeding wound with cotton gauze. Crimson seeps into pristine white as soon as it makes contact. With a resigned sigh, he leaves it to soak up as much as possible before crossing the room to retrieve the sutures and remaining tools. Itâs not a clumsy operation, even if he currently feels that way. Regardless, he would never do anything sloppyâno matter how important or inessential it may be. Although, if he were to admit to the truth, he works faster than he normally does, stitching you up with expert, unfaltering fingers.
Riddleâs not sure how much time he has left when he dries and bandages the area. He isnât looking to find out.
âLetâs get you up,â he mumbles after tying your gown. Itâs awkward, more struggle than success, but he manages to drag your unconscious body off of the table. Steadying you in his arms, he glances around the room to ensure he isnât forgetting anything. Itâs surrealâthe last time heâll ever find himself in this environmentâbut heâs ready. He has to do this.
If he doesnât, heâll never see you again. And who can say youâll enjoy your life in Harveston? Who can say you wonât immediately call out for him when you wake in an unfamiliar home, greeted by unfamiliar people? Heâd never forgive himself for abandoning you.
Riddle only hopes your grudge can be soothed. Heâs not like the other humans youâve feared your entire life. Heâs shown you heâs different, and you believed in thatâin him.
Itâs not wrong. Itâs a rescue mission, he assures himself, but the delusion doesnât stick.
Instead of wallowing in his crime-in-progress, Riddle drapes your arm over his shoulder and, tucking the scalpel away, helps you over to the door. He staggers more than he walks, having to account for the dead weight, but he doesnât let this hinder him. Worst of all, itâs not even the fear of getting caught that bothers Riddle.
Itâs the fact he left the examination room a mess! The guidelines are there for a reason, but he completely ignored them and neglected to clean up after himself. Thatâs tantamount to stealing the specimen!
Not really. It does feel like it, though.
Riddle pokes his head out the door, glancing down the empty hall stretching on either side. Heâs actually doing this. Heâs breaking the rulesâthe law!
Itâs worth it, he realizes. Every moment spent with you is a dream come true; heâs never been happier in this idyll.
Down the hall he goes, his lanyard swaying with every step. His keys jingle noisily, but he presses onwards. Thereâs no way around the cameras or the guard at the front of the building. He can bypass the latter with a smooth lieâso long as nothing stands in his wayâbut he canât do anything about the mechanical eyes peering down at him. Riddle reckons itâll only be a few minutes before the facilityâs put on lockdown and Crewel gives the command to apprehend him and secure the hybrid subject.
To no oneâs surprise, thatâs exactly what happens minutes later. The intercom crackles to life and with it comes Crewelâs threat-tinged inflection: âI do hope this isnât a blatant display of insubordination, Dr. Rosehearts. Iâm willing to overlook this slight if you return the hybrid at once.â
So much for cryptic getaways⊠Heâs almost certain Crewel suspected this from the beginning. Perceptive even in the midst of surgical chaos.
Riddle stops halfway down the hall, stares into the red eye of the CCTV, and raises his middle finger. The surgical mask conceals the nasty glower scrunching on his face.
And then the lights flick from blindingly white to deep, dangerous vermillion. The sirens come next, angry blares that nearly burst his eardrums. Riddleâs relieved youâre unconscious. The sounds and sights would have definitely startled you.
He sets off half-running, half-stumbling the rest of the way, narrowly ducking around the corner just as three guards rush past. For all of his adrenaline-laced courage, the thought of surrendering never crosses his mind.
Holding you close, Riddle takes a tentative step into the hall and yelps just as something zips past his face, nearly grazing his cheek. His arms wrap around you with a possessive firmness. A tranquilizer dart lies on the tile. Riddleâs certain it would have embedded itself in his neck had he been just a centimeter closer.
That can only mean one thing.
Rook Hunt missed on purpose.
âI must thank you for the glorious chase, Roi des Roses. It was as invigorating as it was enjoyable!â He beams and, rifling through the pockets of his lab coat, produces another dart to load into the barrel. One shot. This one, Riddle knows, will hit its mark. âIâm afraid this is where our paths must finally intersect.â
As a last-ditch effort to have some parody of the upper hand, Riddle draws the scalpel out and points it at Rook. âIâm not going to fight you,â he says, his tone a smidge louder than necessary. âI just want to make it to the exit.â
âYouâre more than welcome to without the extra baggage. Iâm sure you of all researchers should know how important the little trickster is.â
âAnd Iâm sure Dr. Crewelâs told you to use any means necessary to subdue me.â
He smiles an odd, secretive smile, the type of which betrays any and all sentiment. âIt truly pains me to turn my arrow on a fellow companion. What indescribable woe!â
Riddle stands unyielding, holding you as far from Rook as possible. He considers his options. Hand you over to Rook and face the severe consequences for equally severe actions, or attempt to escape even though it may be impossible by now. Any other researcher would have proven significantly less difficult, but this is Rook Hunt. He knows how to corner and capture his prey with unapologetic swiftness.
Riddleâs more miffed that he got so far and still failed. Was he doomed the minute he met you? Forever fated to never know another ounce of felicity ever again?
He looks down the hall, his hardened features set in grim determination. Even if failure looms on the horizon, he lives to beat the odds. Heâs Riddle Rosehearts! It isnât in his nature to fail. He always overcomes adversity. This is no different than a perplexing equation he studied to death in grad school.
âI understand itâs wrong,â he says, choosing his words carefully. âI know what Iâm doing and Iâm content with my choice. I canât let you take her from me.â He turns his fiery stare on the researcher, unaffected at being held at gunpoint. âIâm resigning, and sheâs coming with me. Iâm not going to compromise, so Iâll have to ask you to stop standing in my way.â
Itâs as simple as that.
Rookâs sharp gaze softens into something sympathetic and, much to Riddleâs shock, he lowers the tranquilizer gun. âYou love her, donât you?â
Oh.
Thatâs the emotion he could never place. One heâs ignored for so long. All this time, Riddle Rosehearts, who thought himself incapable of it, is in love.
âI do,â he confesses, a strain in his voice. He holds your unconscious body close, one arm wrapped securely around your waist. âI love her, Rook. And Iâthereâs no way I can allow this. You have to let me go.â
âI intend to.â Rook tucks the gun in its holster and holds out a brass key and a folded slip of paper. âI only wanted to see what youâd do when faced with a challenge. As expected, you arenât so easy to sway once your mindâs made up.â
Riddle peers at both, suspicious, and glances at the security camera mounted high in the corner. Rook follows his line of sight.
âItâs been disabled, courtesy of moi. I canât say for how long it will remain so, but weâre free to talk at our leisure for now.â
Riddle wonders if heâs telling the truth. Thereâs no time for deliberating. The emergency lights fulgurate; sirens scream. He has no choice but to trust him.
âWhy?â
âLove is a marvelous, mystical thing. To take that from another personâto bury it when itâs only just beginning to blossomâdo you not find that unfair?â
âI⊠Yes, I suppose so. Butââ
âI only wish to bear witness to the beauty of love in all its forms. Your love is a spectacle worthy of an audience.â
âBut this isâŠâ Riddle lowers his voice even though itâs drowned out in the wailing alarms. Heâs not sure why heâs trying to get Rook to debate him on it. âThis is illegal. Iâm stealing.â
He laughs. âArenât we all? Whether stealing hearts or tangible materialism, weâre all thieves.â
ThatâŠis not how that works.
âYouâre really going to let me go? Youâre risking your job, Rook. Everything.â
âSo be it. How else can I call myself le chasseur dâamour if Iâm not willing to put everything on the line to do so? If I were to falter here just because of a little danger, I wouldnât be able to observe your romance.â
âIâŠsee. Well, thank you. Sincerely, thank you.â He swipes the key and paper from Rook. âAnd this is forâŠâ
âAn address to an unused residence.â
Riddleâs brow furrows.
âVacation homes. We use them sometimes. This one hasnât had company to fill its walls in a while. Perhaps youâd like to stay there with your amour?â
âWhatâs the catch?â
âNo catch at all! The house is small but secluded. No one will suspect a thing. Your secret is safe with me.â
âAnd youâre justâŠgiving this to me?â
âIâm not using it, and you canât return to your current residence. Where else are you to rendezvous if not the countryside?â
âI appreciate it. If thereâs anything I can do in returnââ
âOh, Roi des Roses, youâre much too formal! All I ask is that you live happily with her.â
A faint smile pulls at his lips. âI will. Thatâs a guarantee.â
âThen please donât let me stop you. Be on your way. Iâll buy you some time.â
He nods and pockets the items, keeping his eyes on Rook while he hobbles past with you at his side. The promising enchantment of a bright future looms distantly ahead.
If thereâs one thing Riddle misses most about his old life, itâs the music. Late nights spent holed up in his study, relaxing to slow, soulful notes or tapping his foot to match the tempo of a fast, fluffy falsetto. Sometimes he wonders if the bushes out front are trimmed or if the flowers crawling up the trellis on the side of the house are getting enough sunlight and water. Sometimes, if he flicks through the people in his life like channels on TV, he wonders what theyâre saying.
As far as anyoneâs aware, Riddle Rosehearts is no more.
Heâs since built himself up as a phony, bleached his hair a pale, cool-toned white-blond, and changed his identity. Rook helped where he was needed, a self-proclaimed master of disguises. Riddle doesnât go out much, but when he does itâs in a small corner of the countryâan area with sprawling farmlands, where neighbors are nonexistent for stretches. The town is tiny and quaint. Itâs quiet here. The ideal getaway.
And itâs all his. A comfortable life filled with nonstop joy.
He really wishes he had his music, though. Itâs just not the same turning the dial on the radio in hopes that one of the stations will reach and have a good queue.
It was difficult adjusting to the change, the scenery, the environment of a new house. You slapped him across the face when you woke up, called him a liar and hid from him. He deserved it. Mostly. It was with great patience that he explained the situation, insisting he never had any plans to hand you over to Crewel or the Felmiers. You came around after the third day, plodding into the kitchen and wrapping your arms around him from behind. You made him promise a real promise, one sealed through hot, heady kisses. One that couldnât be broken so easily.
For the hour the pasta bake sat in the oven, he vowed to never lie again. Over and over, a record on repeat, Riddle spoke those words with sincerity. They punctuated each thrust, pressed into your mouth like a delicate tongue tattoo.
Itâs been a year since then and Riddle, for whatever reason, has yet to confess to a very important truth. By this point, he assumes itâs evident. An unspoken understanding. But then you havenât said it either. He wonders if you know how.
Does he know how?
âI was thinking,â you mumble, sitting pretty in your floral-print sundress. The windowâs cracked slightly to let in a spring breeze. It brings with it thoughts of damp earth, fresh produce, and budding flowers. Backdropped by reflective glass, where a plot of empty garden waits just beyond, youâre a reverie taken and transplanted in reality. âWe should plant something in there.â
Riddle sets his cup on its accompanying saucer, following your gaze to the soil outside. âWhat would you like to grow?â
âStrawberries. Definitely strawberries.â
Briefly, he imagines picking a basketâs worth of strawberries with you. Standing side by side in the kitchen, mashing them into paste to make marmalade or syrup. Baking dozens of tarts with them. Dipping them in chocolate. Eating them as they are. Truly, strawberries are one of the best fruits.
âWe can do that.â
âWouldnât that be so cool? We could have an entire backyard of strawberries! Youâd never have to worry about going to the market again. Not for strawberries, at least.â
He chuckles. âI like the sound of that.â
Humming your agreement, you lift an apple slice to your mouth. Riddle watches you nibble with a smile. Whenever he looks at you he feels weak and wordless, dumbly entranced. An infatuated fool.
You lick your fingers clean next, seeming quite pleased with yourself. Riddle moves thoughtlessly, leaning over the tea table and taking your hand in his. You blink up at him once and then his shadow is eclipsing you. The gap closes; mouths press together. A wind chime sighs, caught up in a breeze. Riddle moves around the table to get closer to you, resting his hand on your thigh. You grab at every part of himâhis shoulders, his arms, his back. Fingers creep along your leg, brushing your dress up higher and higher. You hum against him, your body warm even though the house is relatively cool.
In the crisp, sunny afternoon, you taste like apples and green tea. He savors it with every kiss, chasing after it like itâs to be his final meal.
As if unwrapping a gift, he slides your dress from your shoulders. Bare skin winks back at him, a soft, unmarked landscape begging to be tilled and filled with love. Heâll never get over the sight. It always leaves him breathless. You respond in kind, tugging at his clothes and whining impatiently.
He nudges at your clit, rubbing you through your panties. You slacken against him, gasping around the tongue tangled with yours. Heâs not sure how much time the both of you spend kissing and fondling, but youâre perfectly dazed when he tugs your underwear down. Itâs soaked through with your slick. He marvels at youâbeautiful, blissful you. Sweat sticks to your body, but with the sun pooling in through the parted curtains it looks more like a delicious glaze.Â
Heâs hurrying to pull himself from his pants when he stops. âI shouldnât. Your heatâs scheduled to start any day now. I really shouldnâtâŠâ Foolishly, he attempts an escape, but you grab his face and hold him still. Looking at you now, Riddle realizes he doesnât want to leave your embrace.
âItâs okay. Donât hold back for my sake.â
âAre you sure? What if youââ
âThatâs the whole point of why I go into heat, right?â you murmur against his mouth. If he didnât know any better, heâd think you were in heat now with how you burn holes into his eyes. âWhy wait until then when we could do it now?â
âBut do youââ He frowns, suddenly self-conscious. Life has been too comfortable lately. Surely heâs in for something terrible⊠âDo you want this?â
You give him a strange look. âOf course I do. Why wouldnât I?â Your thumbs brush along his cheeks. An affectionate giggle falls from your lips. âI love you.â
âYes, Iâm aware, but even so I worry. Without proper planning⊠Not that itâs risky or anything⊠I just want to be prepared for whenââ The rest of that sentence cuts off abruptly. He stares at you, dumbfounded.
Your laughter is musical. âI love you, Riddle.â
A wide, toothy smile claws at his face, lifting it with a boyish jubilation. He feels silly, but heâs happy. So overwhelmingly happy.
Riddle wraps you up in a hug. âSo do I! I love youâso, so much.â
You match his enthusiasm with celebratory laughter, drunk on abundant emotion. He said it and it came easy. He said it and he means it.
He said it and you reciprocated.
Oh, what a magical thing love is! To be wrapped up in it as if itâs a blanket fresh from the dryerâitâs refreshing and joyful. Warming his soul, melting the ice in his heart. Heâs smiling so much it hurts, but he canât help it. Heâs in love and itâs so freeing. So weightless and wonderful. Like floating down the sweetest stream, living the love from his dreams. Itâs everything heâs never known, and it feels good.
What comes next is a rush of wandering hands and never-ending kisses all over, stamped into each otherâs skin. He doesnât bother to strip you completely, and youâre much too desperate to pull him out of his clothes. Everythingâs messy, a theatre for the half-dressed.
Itâs to a relieved sigh when he finally enters you from behind. Relief trickles into tears, and the both of you are crying through your moans. He plasters you to the windowpane, unbothered by the noisy debauchery of it all. Soft breezes filter in and mingle with the scent of salt and sex.
âI love you,â Riddle confesses again, leaning over you to grab your chin and turn you towards him. You kiss him desperately, clawing at the windowpane for support. âI love you. I love you. I love you.â
Itâs an addictive, spirituous phrase.
âM-Me tooâooh! So much! Iâmmh!âlove you so much!â you babble, ears pricked forward. A delirious smile curls on your lips.
He peers at your reflection in the window, admiring the bunched ruffles in your sundress and the way your palms press against the glass. He wonders what heâd be doing if he hadnât met you. Perhaps heâd still be the same Riddle Rosehearts, enduring lonely, cyclical days. Working for a purpose he thought heâd lost. Bent over a metal table, dissecting all kinds of stuff for his research. Feeling the empty void grow larger and larger with every passing year.
Thereâs no need to entertain those dismal recollections any longer, though. He has a purpose now. Heâs fulfilled.
Riddle doesnât need to look too far into the future to know heâll be content. Whether itâs tomorrow, next week, or years from now, he will always know happiness when heâs with the one he treasures most.
Pinned to the window, youâre falling first. Riddle runs his fingers through the soft strands of your tail, cooing at you like one might a pet: âThatâs it. Go ahead and cum for me, my dear.â
Obedient thing that you are, you heed his command.
He rubs your hip encouragingly. Youâre on the verge of collapsing, so he grabs your wrists and yanks you back up against him. He ruts into you with more force, knocking you against the window like youâre nothing more than a boneless doll. And then heâs driving home in a final thrust to flood your gummy walls with his spend.
Blinking through your tears and panting heavily, you float back to reality. He steadies you when you stagger on wobbling hooves, feeling only slightly bad that heâs to blame for that. But the prideful part of him relishes in having fucked you so good that you can hardly stand.
He kisses your cheek. âYou did so well.â
âI wanna go againâŠâ
He slides out, much to your displeasure, and helps you sit down. âLetâs take a break. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Another cup of tea?â
Stubborn to a fault, you pout at him. Sitting grumpy in that chair with your ears flat on your head, looking a right mess, youâre the cutest, most darling sweetheart heâs ever seen. It almost convinces him.
âCome now. We have all afternoon to waste away.â Riddle cups your cheek. You turn from him with a huff. He watches you scowl at nothing in particular. âDonât look so glum. I never said we couldnât go again.â
âBut I can go again now! I donât need a break.â
âYou almost fell over. I donât want you to hurt yourself.â
You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to dignify that with a retort. He takes your chin in a gentle grasp and guides your head towards him. You hold his stare with unwavering resolve.
âMy pretty girl,â he whispers, leaning down to close the space. âThat dress suits you.â
âItâll look better on the floor.â
âWill it?â he asks, playing along with a raised brow.
âIt will and you know it.â You throw your arms around his neck, your voice tickling his ear. âSo take it off properly this time, okay?â
Riddle intends to do just that.
#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle#yandere riddle x reader#n/sfw
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We Are and the evolution of Thai BL tropes
The QL discord started a rewatch of My Engineer a few weeks ago, and damn, has it been an interesting experience. At the time I originally watched My Engineer, there was little that stuck out to me, because so much of what happened felt so incredibly common in a lot of the (admittedly rather limited) number of BLs being produced. It felt like pretty standard fare.
But going back and watching it in juxtaposition with We Are airing has been so fascinating. This genre has been evolving, y'all.
As much as we all joke about always getting more university BLs, there is something to be said for a format that can be used as something of a metric for the genre. And though there's only four years between My Engineer and We Are, seeing them both at once gives me such an incredible appreciation for the direction the genre is going in, the impact of having more queer voices involved in the creation of QLs, and how there's a lot of good we can find in seemingly simple spaces.
Obligatory disclaimer: This is just my perspective and subjective interpretation of what I have seen as a BL viewer of some time; also I don't have time to go in and do a university deep dive, so this isn't a real analysis, but more of a brief writeup of observations.
Trends are not black and white, of course, there is a spectrum. I'm sure we'll suffer through more Dinosaur Loves. At the same time, having such predominant production companies as GMMTV putting effort into hiring queer creatives and subverting old cliche tropes is an encouraging thing. (Especially as they were the creators of the original university trendsetting BL with Sotus).
Note: For newer QL viewers, I highly recommend @absolutebl for brushing up on trope history. For university BLs in particular, this post and this post are great starting primers.
Let's talk tropes!
Ok, one more note - some tropes are being what I would consider subverted, some more adapted to a newer framework, and some just played with - I'm going to talk about how they appear to me, but I'm not going to be super pedantic over it, because this is just for fun.
Trope: Bullying/hazing behavior
This did not age well in My Engineer, and I would guess hasn't aged well in a number of BLs (and other media, because the whole "he's mean to you because he likes you" bullshit has been around forever). Not just because the behavior was shitty, but because it was played off in the script as cute, and implied that it was completely justified for the seme to do whatever he wanted in his pursuit of his uke.
(There was also quite a strong tone of internalized homophobia, with the lead feeling more comfortable in expressing his interest through harassment than honest emotion, but the show never actually engaged with that in any meaningful way.)
We Are sets up a very traditional enemies to lovers/bullying start to the story, with Phum taking advantage of Peem's economic situation to make him his "slave".
And yet... there's some important elements here that make this more than the standard use of the trope.
Phum keeps it pretty light in his bullying behavior, and clearly is using it more to keep Peem around as company, versus the kind of bullying in My Engineer, where Duen is literally hit by a car, and yet still expected to keep jumping to Bohn's whims.
As soon as Phum realizes he really upset Peem by leaving him waiting at the mall, he genuinely feels awful about it. It's clear that his intent is not to cause harm, and that he has a conscience. He wrestles with his feelings on it quite a bit, and it ends up being the thing that gets Phum to finally express an honest emotion with Peem.
And most importantly, the script does not let him off the hook. His behavior is bad, and is identified as such by the writing. Peem pushes back and is shown to be right to do so, Beer openly says he disapproves.
So instead of a cliche story beat that's used just to start the action, or a seme who's allowed to do whatever he wants because "passion" (blech), we're seeing it used for characterization, giving us important beats about who both Phum and Peem are in how they engage with each other through the use of the trope.
Trope: Obsessive/jealous behavior
Oh, this one was painful in My Engineer. Duen couldn't even talk to another human being without Bohn getting jealous and angry and dragging him away.
Phum gets jealous, particularly around Kluen, but what makes it feel so subversive here are two key things.
Phum's jealousy has a purpose here, it's not just for drama's sake. It's not the cliche seme doing whatever he wants and being treated as justified. It's deliberately being used to explore his insecurities, and give him a challenge to overcome. Phum doesn't stomp over and drag Peem away, he retreats, he hides. When his jealousy causes him to lash out at Peem, he is immediately aware he fucked up.
And again, the script is making it clear that this behavior is not ok. Peem chides Phum when he acts unkind to Kluen, and Beer makes it clear that the solution is not petty behavior, but actually figuring out a way to communicate his feelings with Peem before he misses his chance. This is portrayed as a barrier for Phum to overcome in order to be with Peem, not an expected part of a romantic relationship.
Trope: Friendship group
There are not enough words to express how much I love the friendship group in We Are. To be fair, this is one of the better historical tropes. We've gotten a lot of amazing friend groups, even in mediocre BLs.
But it's still different in We Are, for one simple reason. In most university BLs, the friend group is a supporting structure. But here?
The story lines may be about the romance, but the point of We Are is the friendship.
I will die on this hill, y'all.
I don't have enough time to go into it fully here, but this show is a love letter to friends. It's a tribute to finding the people who see the real you and have your back unconditionally. Who cheer your successes and commiserate over your defeats, who pick you up when the world knocks you down, who call you out when you make mistakes, and push you to be better.
And romance is lovely, but all of these budding relationships are about being friends first, and then lovers, because that friendship is just as important as everything else, if not more.
Trope: Pink milk
Lol, ok, kinda kidding, kinda not. I know we all got mad over the drink wastage, but also check out these visuals - it's about diversity baby!!
TanFang speed round
My two little trope-busting bebes. These two are already so beautifully non-traditional in their composition, but I love how frequently they are used to make fun of and play with tropes just on their own.
Introduced as pining crush/friend's older brother pair, but actually secret enemies to lovers.
Grumpy/sunshine pairing, where the sunshine used to be a fighter, and grumpy smiles when he thinks no one is watching.
Wound-tending where they keep poking each other instead of acting soft.
Openly mocking the jealous boyfriend trope.
Setting up the possessive trope when Tan doesn't pick up Fang's calls, only to immediately have Fang question if he's being unreasonable.
Setting up their own cute eating scene for kicks.
"First time" sex scene making it clear this is anything but their first time.
Tan holding Fang down in the cliche possessive pose, only for Fang to take the agency of kissing Tan. (And overall saying eff off at the cliche top/bottom roles old BLs were such a fan of).
In Summary
I'm sure there are more tropes that will come to me, and we do still have 5 episodes left of We Are, so there are some potential trope uses that I am keeping an eye on. This is by no means an all-inclusive list.
But I wanted to write this, because I was genuinely shocked to realize how different my My Engineer watching experience was this time compared to my first time. How over the last few years I'd come to expect more thoughtfulness in my QL media, even in the ones that seem shallow on the surface.
Considering how fast and furious the QLs are coming these days, it's easy to forget how recent it was that we were much more starved of content. And I think sometimes we forget to take in the big picture, of how far we've come in just a few years.
Critique is always going to be important, of course, it's part of what helps us make progress. At the same time, it doesn't hurt to take a moment to look around and see some good in where we are.
@sailorbryant thanks for the push to get this written! Feel free to add thoughts!
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Hello hello hellooo I saw hsr and APPEARED I must ask for Kafka with a stoic s/o like everyone in danger s/o is hurt and their just like âow oh nođâ
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đđđđ. honkai star rail
â notes. these two requests had the same kind of theme so i merged it into one post đ
â details. kafka, dan heng, jing yuan, blade x gn!reader (separate). fluff. tw: descriptions of injuries. all of them might be ooc im sorry sjhdhksjkd
kafka
she honestly takes this as grounds to tease you and attempt to find what makes you tick â she finds it as a fun challenge to see what would be able to make your expression shift.
having an unreadable demeanour is an advantage in her profession, as well as having the ability to maintain a calm exterior no matter what the situation. so really, kafka mostly doesnât have any qualms about your behaviour, especially since it also gives her a bit of entertainment from time to time
well, she doesnât have any qualms about it until you rock up with a concerning injury, but seem to be regarding it with nothing but utter nonchalance.
her light plum eyes narrow slightly, examining the long cut down your arm with a hint of scrutiny within her gaze. kafka âtskâs, glancing up to meet your eyes for a moment; a silent question wondering about how youâre so calm about this.
despite how her hands are quick to reach out and grasp your arm, her hold on you is gentle.
she pulls you closer, saying something about how you shouldnât take your injuries so lightly. kafka whisks you away to a more secluded place and has you sit down while she takes on the role of your temporary personal medic.
âyou should take more care of your own wellbeing, alright? sit still and let me treat your wounds.â her words are spoken with something like a drawl, tilting her head as she speaks, but she pats your head and gets to work with helping you afterwards.
dan heng
well, then you wouldnât be the only one on the astral express who exhibits calm behaviour all the time â but admittedly, youâre more proficient at keeping it up than dan heng is.
he tells himself that itâs one less thing to worry about, since your other companions are already quite the group to take care of. march is always running off to take photos or poke in othersâ business, and the trailblazerâs probably digging through trash cans for... who knows what, honestly.
youâre reliable and composed, and he appreciates this aspect of you. itâd certainly come in handy in many situations, and so again, he tells himself that he doesnât have to worry about you...
but he is still very much worried.
especially upon spotting the thin but long cut on the side of your torso.
his eyebrows furrow â this is one of the few situations where you actually manage to catch a glimpse of him showing pure unconcealed concern.
dan heng sighed, inquiring about how you even got that and if it hurts a lot. regardless of your response to the either question, heâs already on helping clean and patch up the injury. âbattles are inevitable along our journey, but you should be more on-guard next time.â he said, checking his handiwork and making sure that the bandages were secure.
jing yuan
itâs part of what makes you very interesting to him, actually â seeing how most things never really crack your solid exterior.
people donât usually come across someone like you every day. even for xianzhou natives, who naturally have much longer lifespans than others, donât often meet someone with your level of calm. even jing yuan himself couldnât say that heâs met many individuals who share your traits, even with his experience.
itâs good to be levelheaded in a fight, whether it be physical or verbal. jing yuan quietly appreciates your ability to keep a clear mind and keep your sights set on the goal. itâs a good skill for people to have on the battlefield.
itâs simultaneously fascinating and concerning to see how you still donât bat an eye even when youâre injured. for a brief moment, jing yuan ponders over whether he should accompany you the next time you are headed out into the places on the luofu which are more packed with mara-struck soldiers.
he knows that youâre a capable fighter on your own, but how could you expect him not to worry on your behalf when youâve ended up injuring yourself like this?
however, tending to your wounds takes precedence over those other matters, so he pushes that aside and helps you out first.
the general certainly isnât a medical professional, but he at least knows how to dress a wound. with many years of experience on the battlefield under his belt, this comes naturally to him. after cleaning the gash, he carefully wraps the bandages around the injured area, asking you if itâs too tight and then asking again to double-check, since he finds that attempting to get a read on your expression didnât really work too much.
jing yuan sighs, reminding you that you should be more careful next time. would you need your injuries checked by lady bailu after this? heâll accompany you on the way there.
blade
wow you guys are twinning!!! đ€
/j
but, unlike him, you donât possess that same self-healing ability that he has, so while it may be ironic of him to do so, heâs silently questioning your pain management abilities.
blade doesnât usually spare anyone a second look, but if you keep a careful eye out, you might catch him taking a surreptitious glance at you, silently giving your wounds a once-over. itâs curious how you manage to stay that calm even when youâre injured like that.
the sight of you getting hurt in some shape or form was a bit of a common occurrence, but no matter the severity of the injuries, you still maintained that unbothered demeanour.
huh. with that sort of behaviour you display, youâd expect someone like that to manage to not get into this many scuffles, but here you were.
clearly, out of the other stellaron hunters, you seemed more injury-prone. maybe it was something that balanced out your stoic countenance. blade has half the mind to simply drag you back to a safer area himself just to get you away from danger.
he mutters some form of curse or complaint under his breath as he sits you down onto the ground then crouches in front of you, lifting your left calf to inspect the injury. âhow do you always manage to do this?â he muttered, earning no response.
that fragmentum creature had swiped at your calf and also left a small burn. blade raised an unimpressed eyebrow, seeing your still unchanged expression.
he may be uttering some complaints and saying that he shouldnât have to look after you like some babysitter, but he in no way would tend to your injury sloppily. in contrast to his remarks, he handles your wound carefully. before you knew it, itâs been skilfully cleaned and bandaged up. ârest it.â he tells you. heâs not completely sure if youâd follow that, though, so with a scoff, blade adds that heâll make sure of it himself.
#đ . writing#đ . mail#honkai star rail#hsr#star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#dan heng#dan heng x reader#hsr kafka#kafka x reader#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#hsr blade#blade x reader
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MYSTERY MAN
starring itoshi rin!
synopsis: you decide to go watch rin's football practice for the first time, much to his delight. his teammates struggle to figure out who you are and what you've done to their usually very grumpy rin.
requested by @checkoutmyflow! i hope i did your rq justice ^^
notes: first time completing a request! sorry for the wait >.< ALSO this is gn!reader :)
admittedly, you weren't much of a football fan, even though your boyfriend was a professional college player. you didn't really understand the sport, as you hadn't played it since second grade gym class, but for some reason, you had decided that today, on this sunny tuesday afternoon, you were going to drop by rin's practice alongside a football-for-dummies book to watch and hopefully learn a little about the sport he was so enamored with.
it would appear that they were in the middle of a practice match, as his teammates and him were wearing different colored pennies, and there was someone keeping score on a whiteboard.
you sat down on the bleachers quietly, not wanting to distract anyone from the game. your eyes scanned the field quickly, almost instantly finding rin's unique dark green hair. you tried your best to keep up with what was happening, quickly flipping through your book whenever someone did something cool to try and find it, but it proved to be quite difficult, and you found yourself very confused at the sport's intricacies.
despite your lack of understanding, the one thing you could observe and comprehend was how alive rin looked whilst playing. he was sweating, shit-talking, and scrambling around the field non-stop, clearly very tired, but his eyes had a certain glimmer to them that you didn't get to see often, and he moved around the field with immaculate grace and precision. you watched as he skillfully maneuvered around the field and how he seemed to be able to calculate exactly where his opponent would go. you didn't have to understand the sport to know that this field was a place where itoshi rin shined like no other.
rin took hold of the ball and began dashing across the field with it, his shiny hair blowing behind him. his eyes began darting around the field, his brain taking in and calculating every factor necessary to victory.
his brain certainly didn't expect to see you, his lovely s/o who knows nothing about football, sitting on the bleachers.
your eyes made contact for a brief moment before rin tripped over his own feet and flew forward, making literally everybody on the field stop what they were doing.
a brief moment of silence washed over the field before laughter soon took its place, his teammates jogging over to him asking if he was ok, and what the hell just happened as they howled in mirth.
he grumbled some excuse with red cheeks as he looked away, clearly very mortified. his coach decided to call a break, seeing as everyone had already stopped playing, and he grabbed his water before practically sprinting over to you.
"y/n," he breathed as he came to a stop in front of you, puffing a little from fatigue. "you're here."
you giggled. "hi, rin. i thought i should come watch one of your practices. i want to get to know all the aspects of your life, after all."
he leaned in closer to you to brush his hand against yours as you two chatted a bit. anyone could see the way his eyes softened as you spoke and how his shoulders relaxed at your every move. anyone even being his pretty-damn-stupid team.
in the distance, bachira, isagi, chigiri, nagi, and reo murmured amongst themselves, wondering about who you were - the mystery person mr. im-better-than-you-and-grumpy-all-the-time rin looked so happy to see.
"his sibling, maybe?"
"nah, i'm pretty sure sae is his only sibling."
"oh! what about his parent, then?"
"dude, do you have eyes? way too hot to be a parent."
"his lover, maybe?"
there were a solid 5 seconds of silence before they burst out into laughter once more.
"get out. itoshi rin, an s/o? no way in hell, dude."
"i doubt he could even keep anyone for more than a month. they'd get tired of his attitude real quick and leave just as fast."
"rin-chan probably isn't capable of loving anyone, after all."
despite their adamant denial of your relationship with rin, they could all notice rin's demeanor. he looked happier, more at ease, gentler, kinder, and overall, he looked like a normal person. who were you, and what had you done to their rin?
coach blew his whistle, and they watched as you gestured for him to get back with his team. they then watched with their jaws on the floor as he, itoshi rin, POUTED and SWEETLY PLANTED A KISS on your forehead before jogging off.
they all exchanged looks of pure shock as rin jogged back to them.
they all gave him a shocked look as he raised a brow.
"...what?"
đđđđđđđ ©đđđđ please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! đ€
#ami writes đ#ami's acquaintances â€ïž#first time completing a request aaaaa!#cue bachira jumping on top of rin as they all start shouting abt how he finally got himself a cute lover#and then a moment where they all shut up and just stand there wondering how rin got a lover before them#âwhat has the world come toâ -bachira#âHOW DID THIS HAPPENâ -reo#â...good for you...â -chigiri#âwow rin! bagged yourself a pretty cute one there!â -isagi#â...huhâ -nagi#rin x reader#rin fluff#rin x gn!reader#gn!reader#rin hcs#rin headcanons#rin drabbles#rin imagines#bllk fluff#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#blue lock drabbles#blue lock imagines#request
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