#and they make mention of his hardly seen or mentioned garden

[mash4077confessions]

[freshxsturniolo]

4th July - chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary / warnings ; inspired by jake webbers 4th july party vid!! mentions of jake, johnnie, carrington and tara as well as the triplets. flirting, fluff.

PT2

"oh fuck, put me down" you laugh through a mouthful of beer, jake holding your legs on his shoulder as tara pressed down on the power button to the keg you were gripping hold of.

you hear the people around you laughing as you feel jake slowly lowering you to the ground and you whip your head back up, swolling down the beer. you wince as the liquid finally flushes through you and you feel two hands clap on your shoulders, the sound of your more recent friend carringtons voice in your ear.

"took that like a champ" he laughs, and you turn round to look at him with a grimace.

"that tastes like shit" you say, and he only laughs harder as he gives your shoulder a squeeze before walking off in the direction of the pool table.

you let your eyes adjust around you, the garden full of people you only half recognised, some you had never seen before in your life, before jake passes you an actual drink.

"here you go, m'lady" he chuckles, and you swat at his arm but take the drink gratefully.

"do you even know everyone here, jake?" you ask, looking around the garden again, and jake pulls you by the elbow closer to him as carrington now wants to take your place with the beer keg. a group of his friends already ready to hold his legs whilst tara stays put on the ground to be the one to assist him.

"no." jake admits, and you give him an eye and he shrugs. "some are johnnies friends. some carringtons. some i just invited to be nice." he laughs, and you can't help but laugh with him. he had always been so carefree.

johnnie comes bouncing over now, a giggle on his lips as he holds 3 jello shots in his hands.

"these were the last 3" he says, handing one to each you and jake.

"the last 3?!" you spit. "we spent hours making these last night. how many fucking people are here?" you laugh, but you all take the shots in one, grimacing as the vodka hits your mouth. you pass the empty container back to johnnie who hurries off to the throw them in the trash, at the same time someone you had never seen before catches jakes attention. he gives you elbow a quick rub of reassurance and you give him a smile, knowing you'll catch up with him later and set off to make yourself mingle with the people here.

but it only takes you a few steps before your eyes meet with the person you've been secretly waiting to arrive.. his blue eyes staring at you deeply.

you're drunk, you know you're drunk, the beer from the keg and the jello shot hitting you immediately after already copious amounts of alcohol you'd been drinking through the day, but you let your face stay calm as you give the blue eyed boy a small smile.

chris sturniolo is leaning against one of the fences in the garden, staring at you with a smile on his lips. his two brothers matt and nick are not too far away, but they're engrossed in a conversation with someone you don't recognise and are yet to notice you.

you take a deep sip from your cup and start the walk over to him. he's looking you up and down, which you can hardly expect anything less. you're wearing the exact same outfit as tara. little shorts and a bikini top, only yours is blue and hers is red, and you have to admit you'll likely a little too exposed. you feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of you, but you appreciate the way he looks you straight in the eyes as you finally reach him.

"that was pretty impressive" he says, nodding over to the keg you'd just been drinking from. you smile.

"what can i say? im a girl of many talents." you laugh, taking another sip from your drink.

"that you are" he says, before he pushes himself off the fence and engulfs you in a hug.

there was something unspoken between you and chris. you had only met a handful of times, two of those being super brief when he was filming videos for jake and tara, yet somehow you could not keep away from him. you were constantly texting, after exchanging numbers over instagram dm after the first time you met, and you had continued to conversate with each other ever since. sometimes they were just flowing conversations, how are yous and what you up tos, sometimes they were deeper, about work and about the industry and about stress, but sometimes they were flirtatious, youre so prettys and wow you look in that recent instagram post.

you dont know what it was about chris sturniolo, but you enjoyed every second of him.

as you pulled away from your hug, you gave him a smile.

"do you not want a drink?" you ask, and he takes a peak into your cup.

"yeah, go on then." he smiles.

"what about these two?" you say, pointing to his brothers who had yet to acknowledge you yet. chris chuckles.

"matts driving and nicks got a meeting early tomorrow."

"too bad" you smile, and you grab his hand without even thinking, pulling him into the direction of the kitchen. you weave past what feels like hundreds of people stopping every now and then as chris daps up the odd person he knows, jake and johnnie being two of them, before you finally make it to the kitchen. you let go of his hand once you're there.

"okay" you say, leaning over to take a look at the ray of beers lined up.

"we got corona, we got some miller, we got some vodka,"

"corna will do" he says into your ear above the music and the bustle of people around you. you lean over and grab him one, passing it across to him before finding the bottle opener. he goes to take it off you but you pull your arm away, placing your hand right at the top of his on his bottle and staring straight at him, before you use the bottle opener to take off the lid. all the whilst your eyes on his.

he can't help but chuckle at you as he takes a sip, and you're about to say something when arms wrap around your neck.

"CHRIS" the voice shouts, and your hand instantly goes up to the arm you as you feel it as carrington.

"hey, man" chris nods, and you notice as he looks at both of your skin touching each other. you can't pretend it doesn't make you smile. so you play with him, you rub your hand against carringtons arm as he keeps it in place, but uses his free arm to clink drinks with chris.

"how are ya?" carrington says, and you take a sip of your beer before moving your head to look up at him. he looks down at you straight away. "what?" carrington says, and you laugh.

"nothing, carry on" and you divert back to chris.

"yeah, good man. real good." chris says.

"as you should be" carrington says, before he bends down so his cheek is touching yours.

"you need to come film a section for jakes video" carrington says, and you let out a groan. you had forgotten jake had meant to be filming the whole thing and you suddenly realise you hadn't seen him with his camera once.

"okay, okay" you say, and carrington finally moves his hand from around your neck and automatically grabs onto your hand. he's already striking up conversation with someone who's just past the three of you, so you use the short couple seconds to look towards chris.

"well" you start, holding up your drink to salute. "short and sweet, but duty calls. i'll catch you later?"

chris smiles, saluting you with his drink. "of course" and he turns around to walk off. you let out a sigh before giving carringtons hand a quick tug, which he turns around to look at you, then to the empty space where chris just was, and he nods in understandmant as he guides you back through the crowd, back out into the garden, and smack into the front of jakes camera.

it only takes a short few seconds before you're laughing, both jake and carrington with their arms around your neck as they sing along to the my chemical romance song blasting through the speakers. you're soon then joined by your best friend tara, who hands you all a fresh shot of tequila, and before you know it you're feeling lose again. dancing with your best friends, no care in the world if the camera is there or isnt.

unbeknown to you, chris is trying his hardest to distract him selves with conversations with this brothers and his friends at the party, but his always found yours. you singing with jake, dancing with tara and johnnie. he doesn't miss every second you get close to carrington either, and he starts to doubt all the conversations the two of you have had over the last few months. had he got the wrong end of the stick? where you just being friendly and he'd let his guard down a little?

after a another hour, you knew you were drunk. not just drunk, but the type of drunk where you go one of two ways. you either stay happy and giddy, or you fall down a pit of annoyance and you simply want to be left alone, but the music and the people surrounding you where only lifting your spirits as you took yourself to the kitchen to get another drink. theres people everywhere shouting your name as you walk through, and you smile and say hi to them, a few of your friends stopping you for photos, but when you finally reach to drinks table you let out a sigh of relief, reaching into your back pocket for you phone just to stand alone for a second.

you click onto instagram, already having being tagged in a few peoples instagram stories from photos you'd been taking throughout the day, a video on carringtons story of you upside down taking the keg, and you laugh as you reshare them all, before a text pings through.

chris : any chance we can properly say hi now?

you smirk at his message but whip your head around to look behind you, and see him standing against the kitchen door looking at you. you roll your head back and laugh, holding out your hand for him to come and join you. you notice the corna you had given him earlier is long gone and is now replaced by what looks like a standard beer, but his eyes are slightly red and you know he's had more than one or two.

"hi" you joke as he reaches you, taking your hand slightly as you let them slip to the side of you. he laughs, before looking towards all the drinks.

"are you sure you're okay to drink anymore?" he says, but you can tell he's being kind and not patronising.

you give him a side eye. "why, have you been watching me?"

his cheeks flush a little. "hard not to." he says, as he looks down at your body. now your cheeks flush, but you laugh it off as you reach over for a beer.

"im good. im a good mood." you say, letting go of his hand now and opening the bottle. "i could do with a sit down, for a few minutes though. are matt and nick still here?"

he smiles. "yeah, we're sat by the pool."

you groan in pleasure. "ugh, perfect. i can dip my feet in."

and you grab his hand again, pulling him out into the garden and smiling at the fresh air. your eyes scan the poolside, but chris steps infront of you slightly to guide the way. you hiccup slightly, and bring your hand to your mouth, and chris turns to look at you.

"sorry" you giggle, and chris look down at you.

"you're so cute" he says, and you notice that his eyes linger toward your lips for a second, but you shake it off as you move over to the pool, finally spotting eyes with his two brothers.

they each jump up when they see you, engulfing you in a hug, each telling you how incredible you look, before you all sit down by the pool again. theres a few others sat around in a circle, tara being one of them and she sticks her tongue out at you, which you return, before you sit closest to the pool, sighing as you deep feet into the cold water.

"that good?" you hear, opening your eyes to see chris has sat directly next to you, breaking up the circle completely. you were planning on twisting around ever so slightly to join in the conversation, but chris has completely blocked the way. you had to admit it made you feel a little giddy.

"so good. its SO hot" you say, facing back towards the pool.

"you could say that" he says, and you whip your head to give him a stare, which he just laughs at. you had not seen him for the last month. both of you so busy with work projects, and he had not long been on a few trips with his brother matt, and he had only grown more attractive to look at. his hair was a little long, possibly from travelling so much, he had a small bit of stubble that you'd never seen on him before in person, he's wearing a plain white tee and as you look down, black shorts. his legs were crossed but his knee was just inches away from your thigh, and you smile.

"what you smiling at?" he asks now, and you divert your eyes back to him as he takes a drink.

"we've never been alone together, did you know that?" you ask, and he raises his eyebrow, to which you roll your eyes. "i mean," you start. "we're always with people. someone else is always in on the conversation. i think todays the first day we've sat alone."

he nods as he looks behind him at his brothers and friends surrounding us, all engrossed in their own drunken little words, not even noticing that you and chris have distanced ourselves off slightly. you sit up slightly now, moving your hands away from the ground and grab your drink, taking a deep swig from it.

"its about time, dont you think?" chris asks.

"yeah. it is." you smile.

"i have to ask you something-" he starts, and you raise your eyebrow in anticipation, but you notice as his eyes scan the garden, his cheeks flushing slightly. "are you and-"

but he's cut off by a loud squeal. you each look up towards the noise as you see both carrington and jake holding tara in the air. one under her arms and the other her feet as they edge towards the pool. you both immediately let out a laugh as you watch the commotion, before the throw her into the pool. the water splashes up and towards you and chris, and you both move backwards to try and miss it, failing miserably as you both accidentally clash shoulders and get soaked through anyway.

"JAKE" you squeal, just in time for tara to emerge from under the water. it amazes you that her make up stays in the exact same position as she pushes her hair backwards, now completely soaked through.

"you're next" jake says, running towards you.

"NO" you squeal, but it's too late before jakes hands are on your waist. tara is laughing in the pool, egging jake on, and you can't help but laugh as jake tries his hardest to get you to stand up. when he finally does so, you let out a squeal and you can't help but automatically fly your hands out to chris, who laughs as he grabs hold of your hand.

"he can't save you" jake says, and before you know it you're flung in the air, hitting the water right next to tara. when you reemerge, you let out a splutter and wipe at your nose, letting your eyes adjust to the garden around you, but its only a matter of seconds before both jake and carrington canon ball in at either side of you, more screams erupting as you get soaked through once again.

"you're both INSUFFERABLE" you scream over the music, and you dodge carrington as he goes to fling his arms over your shoulder. he holds his hands to his heart, pretending to be hurt, but before you know it tara has flung herself onto him. you laugh at the two of them, jake dancing around trying to persuade others to get in the pool, and then you let your eyes divert to chris again. he's watching you with a smile, and you suddenly remember the conversation you were having.

you keep your eyes locked on him as you swim up to him, his legs still crossed at the edge of the pool, and you plant your arms on the ground to keep yourself afloat.

"what where you saying, before we got interrupted?" you ask, reaching out for your beer not to far away. chris watches you, his eyes scanning over your face, down towards your boobs pressed against the edge of the pool and you notice his adams apple bop up and down as he takes a deep swollow.

"nothing. its okay" he says, and you raise your eyebrow at him.

"tell me" you whine, and he looks towards the pool. your eyes follow him as you see tara on carringtons back, bopping up and down the pool, and you look back to him.

"i just - i - is anything going on, between you and carrington?" he stutters, and it takes everything in you to not smile. one, at the ridiculousness of his questions, because no, there was absolutely nothing going on between you and carrington, but two, the fact he cared. he cared enough to ask. you look at him, and suddenly you feel even more attracted to him. maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you, but you pick up your hands and grab his.

"come in here" you say, and he widens his eyes.

"not a chance" he laughs.

"what you are scared of?"

"nothing"

"then get in" you say, and you let go of his hand, lay back, and push yourself off the wall of the pool and float backwards a little bit. when you look back up, he's staring at you intensely, but he still hasn't moved, so you shrug your shoulders and look towards carrington.

but that small little action makes something click inside of chris, and he's on his feet in an instant. you snap your head towards him, and you watch as he kicks off his shoes, socks following closely behind and a smile erupts over you face as you watch him. you hear nick and matt ask him what he's doing, but he ignores them as his t-shirt comes off next, and he gives you one last look before he dives in. theres a chorus of cheers around you as people notice another body in the pool, and a clap from carrington and jake as chris head reemerges from under the water. you laugh as you look at them, but when you look back to chris his eyes have never once left yours. his hair is wet through, in front of his eyes and already curling up, as he walks towards you. your heart is racing, theres something about this that feels different now. and when he finally reaches you he stops, pushing hair out of his eyes and rubbing at the water in his eyes.

when he's finished, you smile.

"is anything going on between me and carrington?" you repeat his words, and he looks at you intensely. and then you finally move. your hands around his neck immediately, your chest connecting with his as you move closer. this felt exciting, fireworks in your stomach. every single time you'd met up until now had been platonic. friends, who each time got more and more comfortable with each other. but the flirtatious texts had got more and more, the subtle comments on each other instagram posts had got more and more, and the alcohol surging through both of your bodies was giving a lot to answer for.

chris stares at you for a second, before a smile grows on his lips and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you in closer than you already where, and his eyes dropped down to look at your lips.

"thats what i asked" he says, but his voice had gone deeper.

he looks into your eyes and you smirk, a gravity pulling you together as you slowly move your head closer towards him, hands coming up into his hair before he finally closes that gap, his lips crashing against yours. it feels electric. you hate to be cliche but it feels like this has been brewing for so long and its finally happened. you can taste the hot dog he just had on his lips, but you don't care, because you probably taste like beer, and you can feel as his chest rises against yours, his hands slowly but surely sliding down until they cup the underneath of your butt, and you use it as a sign to bring your legs and wrap them around his waist. he smiles into the kiss, and you use it as your queue to let out a chuckle and pull away. you can feel his thumbs under the water caress you, and his eyes looked dazed.

"does that answer your question?" you ask, and he chuckles again, leaning in to pop a quick peck on your lip.

"yeah, it does." he says.

your eyes scan the people around you, and you notice that not a soul has looked in your direction. its like the two of you are wrapped in your own little bubble. when you look back towards him, his eyes are only on you.

"i want to take you home, right now" he whispers.

"do it then" you say back, feeling a little giddy, but he smiles at you and his next words make your heart swell.

"im going to be a gentleman, because i genuinely like you. are you free one day this week, for dinner?"

you smile, your heart beating. you're sure he can feel it against his chest.

"are you asking me on a date, christopher sturniolo?"

he smiles. "i am."

"then yes," you lean in and kiss him once more. "im free everyday this week."

"tomorrow?" he asks. you laugh, throwing your head back.

"tomorrow is good”

"great" he says, and then he spins you around in a circle, holding onto your tightly as you grip onto him even tighter, a laughter escaping the both of you as the world spins by.

all you know on that moment, is that there was something special brewing between you and the blue eyed boy.

didn’t intend for this to have more than one part but i kinda feel this going into a little few part series?? lemme know!

[mochinomnoms]

jade tries to get his pearl PTM to join mountain lovers club, and tries to appear all suave and cool but instead floyd ruins it

"i found these beautiful mushrooms in the forest, would you like to join me, i'll need a hand collecting them for my terrarium"

"yeah maybe after jade will put you in a terrarium, shrimpy"

to get revenge jade helps riddle hide from floyd and these antics continue, until riddle and yuu are found at the same time drinking tea in the heartslaybul garden and the twins make a truce instead of ruining it more

Jade and Floyd do love each other dearly, they're brothers after all, twins at that! And family is the most important thing!

However they also fucking hate each other in a way that only two close siblings could. They can also plan each other's murders in a way that isn't concerning because they are siblings.

But murder is illegal, being annoying isn't though! A skill that both are excellent at.

So Jade is happy to tip Riddle of everytime Floyd is on his way. Though he's not his keeper, he knows his brother like no one else, and almost has a sixth sense of where he is.

“Hey Jade, where's my Goldfishie?” Floyd had a pout as he looked around the classroom. He'd just seen Bluebottle walk out, so he knew that Jade was meeting with him and Shrimpy for his potions project.

“Oh, Riddle left already.” Jade was peacefully cleaning up his notes, tucking loose papers into his folder and closing his notebook. “He was in quite a rush when I mentioned that you'd planned on stopping by.”

Floyd's head snapped over to his brother, eye twitching at Jade's self satisfying smirk.

“...And why'd ya do that?”

Jade cleaned up the rest of the table, tucking his items under his arm. As he towards the door, he passed by his brother, leaning in and giving Floyd a rare, evil grin.

“Payback.”

“Oh, fuck you asshole, that's how you wanna play it huh?” Floyd hissed, jabbing a finger into Jade's chest. “Too can play at that.”

And thus, led to just about a week of the twins sabotaging each other's attempts to get closer to their desired mates.

Jade had been overly 'helpful' with Riddle, tipping him off to an incoming Floyd or coming over to 'talk' with his brother, giving Riddle a moment to escape. He'd even gotten Tony involved, though the little sharkmer wasn't privy as to why Jade had asked him to hang out with Floyd more often.

In Floyd's case, he'd taken time out of his day to interrupt any private moments between you and Jade. Floyd was delighted in talking up a storm with you, slipping in little insults at his brother while at it, much to your confusion. In retaliation to getting others involved in their spat, Floyd decided to bring along Wynfred, which got Jade immensely irked.

It's not until the two are walking within the rose maze, searching for both of their mates, that they finally come to an understanding.

“I haven't seen my Goldfishie all week, and it's your fault!”

“I could say the same to you, every time I manage to get a moment's of peace between us, you come and disrupt the entire thing.”

“That's not the same! You still get to see them, I haven't even managed to take a look at his red hair all week! I'm gonna forget what the color looks like Jade! I'm gonna forget unless I see Goldfishie right now!

“Hmph, I hardly doubt that'll happen. Speaking of, where are our mates?” Jade sighed, peaking around the corner to see a dead end. “They said that the two were having tea in the maze, but I can't even hear their voices.”

Floyd paused, taking a moment to go on his toes and peer over the hedged.

“Hmm...I can't tell, Goldfishie has this rose perfume, but everything around here smells like roses.”

Floyd wrinkled his nose before moving to look at the other hedge, as Jade looked down the other pathway, huffing at the unending paths and walls.

“Oh! I see them!” Jade turned back around to see Floyd halfway over the wall, hissing as he dug his palm into a thorn. “Ow! Geez, stupid flowers.”

Hopping off with a 'hup!', Floyd jogged down the path past Jade, a blissful smile on his face.

“I'm coming Goldfishe~” Jade followed after, snorting at the giggles leaving his brother's mouth.

Jade smiled, despite himself. It was always nice to see his twin happy. He used to make fun of his enamor for Riddle, but after you came around, he's begun to understand why Floyd was the way he was around Riddle.

Floyd stopped, peeking over the corner with a grin, which promptly disappeared. Jade furrowed his brows, speeding over to sneak a look at what made Floyd upset, though it really could be anything.

Though, he had to give Floyd credit, he could see why he was upset.

You sat next to Riddle in a small clearing with a table set, drinking tea and chattering. Based on how Riddle was smiling and laughing, Floyd was probably jealous.

“...not fair.”

Jade looked at Floyd and tilted his head. “Hmm?”

“Is not fair, why does Shrimpy get to make him laugh?” Floyd's frown grew as he pouted. “He never wants to laugh with me!”

Looking back at the pair, Jade felt his chest tighten at the scene. You looked so carefree and bright, like the sun shining through the waves. Floyd was right, it was unfair that you two never shared these sides of you with them.

“You're right, it's quite unfair. Why don't we go and try to get those cute reactions ourselves? I'll make sure Riddle doesn't run off, and you'll do the same with my pearl.”

Floyd grinned, giggling as and offered a hand.

“A truce?”

“A truce.”

The two shook on it emerging from their hiding spot and, rather loudly mind you, announcing:

“Oh Goldfishie~/My Pearl!”

If you were to ask the students of Heartslabyul, they'd say that yours and Riddle's screams of terror could be heard from all over the dorm.

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

Nameless Ghouls X Angel!Reader Headcanons

These are headcanons of how you - an angel - would meet the ghouls, and them realizing you were their mate.

Ghouls included: Dewdrop, Rain, Mountain, Swiss, Aether, Phantom, Cirrus, Cumulus, Sunshine, Aurora (if you want other ghouls, feel free to request)

Warnings: Injuries, mentions of blood

Notes: So these are a bit long, but I'm also going to make this into a series - read here on Ao3 - once the little stories have been written, I'll link them to each ghoul and put a color on each name, so you'll know who has a little story written

Dewdrop

You disguised yourself as a ghoul to get close to the Church, saying that you were a ghoul from another ministry sent to help around.

Once in, you met Dewdrop.

He was already suspicious, but he recognized you as his mate immediately. Thank Lucifer his mate was a ghoul.

Slowly, he started to realize how weird you acted. You tried explaining that you were just new to Earth, and that you were still figuring things out.

But he caught you.

He saw you alone, in the spot of the gardens where you two would hide, wings stretched out with an ethereal glow surrounding you as you prayed to God.

He is not happy about this at all.

What do you mean he’s mated to an angel?

The argument he had with you was one for the books. He was beyond upset, and you didn’t know how else to react, so you argued back, desperately trying to explain that although you lied, you truly loved him.

He will literally do everything in his power to avoid you until he physically can’t resist you, and once he does run back to you, you’re so kind to him, which stuns him.

He eventually softens and welcomes you into his life with hesitantly opened arms.

You’re very curious about his lifestyle and other things on earth that you’ve never seen from your above view in Heaven.

He actually explains things to you in such a gentle manner.

After being kicked out of Heaven, you immediately run to find him.

He’s shocked. The only bad thing you ever did was hang around him.

He was responsible for your fall, and this hurt him. He tried avoiding you again, but you wouldn’t let him.

He held you so tight every night, especially the ones where the memories of Heaven would flood back in.

You were his angel, and he wasn’t letting you go now that he’s let you in.

Rain

You weren’t even at the Abbey. You were in the middle of a random city because you were following Ghost’s tour.

One of the head angels sent you to keep tabs on them, which, looking back on it now, was a big mistake.

You were at a small, local coffee shop when you caught that first whiff of petrichor.

Oh, you were head over heels immediately.

Rain noticed you, but tried his best to keep his attention off of you. No way did he just catch the eye of an angel.

He left the coffee shop as soon as his order was ready, trying so desperately to escape your intoxicating scent, but it followed him.

Well, technically you followed him. You weren’t sure where he was even going, but you followed him anyway. And he let you.

He knew he would get in so much trouble, but tempting an angel? Now that was too good to pass up.

Once he put an end to the game, he confronted you. He explained the feelings both of you were hardly fighting, and you just kind of stared at him like a lost puppy.

He was so confused by you. Why are you – an angel – so entranced by him? Shouldn’t you be running? Shouldn’t he be ripping you to shreds? Apparently, neither of you cared enough to find out those answers.

You continued following him from city to city in a Romeo and Juliet kind of way.

Your secret meeting spot was coffee shops. It was away from ghouls, from angels, from anyone. The only reason the ghoul’s figured out what was up was because Rain always came back smelling…ethereal.

You fell once the head angel realized what happened when you kept visiting him after the tour ended.

You immediately ran to him, and he held you while you cried.

He was going to help you adjust to your new life, and he would fight for you to stay with him.

Even fallen, he loved you far too much to let you go.

Mountain

The most collected about this.

At first, he was so put off by it, but once he realized he wasn’t going to escape his feelings, he wanted to keep you.

His only concern was your purity. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to you, so he pushed you away.

It was such a conflicting feeling, and as much as he wanted to make you his, he just…couldn’t hurt you. He didn’t actually hate you of course, but he couldn’t see you ruin yourself for him.

He acted as though he hated you, so you pushed him. This was affecting your purity, and every visit made your feathers darken (metaphorically).

You fell on purpose, and he almost resented you for that.

Your life had been so good, why would you push yourself to him?

Heaven wasn’t as kind as people assumed, but you never told him that.

You just wanted to be near him, but Heaven was holding you back. Why couldn’t he see that?

He wanted to pull you close and protect you, but he was so conflicted.

He couldn’t decide what to do, and he punished himself by staying away, and punishing you all the same.

Once you told him about Heaven and how it wasn’t what was good for you, he was shocked.

He was angry.

He couldn’t believe that anyone would do anything so cruel to you…until he realized that he did.

He isolated you when you needed him the most, and that rubbed salt in the wound.

He held you so close and vowing never to leave you and that he wasn’t going to let anything hurt you again.

Swiss

He’s so protective of you.

Probably the most protective actually.

He couldn’t sleep. He just didn’t have a good feeling about the day.

So he went for a walk in the woods, which is where he saw you all bloody.

You were so scared. Scared of being kicked out of Heaven, scared of the ghoul you heard coming closer, scared of where you were, scared of everything.

Swiss couldn’t hurt you. You were his mate. You were in too much pain to put two and two together.

He brought you back to his room to patch you up. He was too hesitant about everything, but cleaned you up and even allowed help from some of the others.

He growled, snarled, snapped his fangs, and whatever else he could when any ghouls who weren’t actively helping you got too close.

You were his angel. Even if you were technically a fallen angel, you were his angel.

The other ghouls were ready to get on his ass for letting an angel in, but

Aether

He full on panics

He’s Papa’s favorite. He’s righteous. He hasn’t done anything for this to be his fate.

An angel? His mate? Wrong. Absolutely not.

You felt a pull to him. Like you just had to be next to him at all times.

He didn’t like it at all and constantly tried to force you away from him.

But you stuck to him like a fly in a glue trap.

He would snap his fangs, snarl, growl, show his claws, and even threaten to use his quintessence.

But you stayed for no reason other than to feel that static you felt when you were around him.

When Heaven found out about your attempts at getting closer to Aether, you were cast out.

And he…didn’t help. He freaked out again and left you.

It was a lot to pin on him, but he felt that he did this.

It might not have fully been his fault, but he believed that he was the cause of your misery.

He wanted to help, but he could feel every ounce of pain that Heaven inflicted onto you, and he couldn’t stand it.

It wasn’t until one of the other ghouls forced him to see you that he really let himself try to patch up his mistakes.

He was absolutely terrified seeing how much pain you were in, but he slowly began to help.

But trusting him was hard…it happened slowly, but he helped you and you couldn’t help but let him in.

And he promised never to push you away. He promised to never let you get hurt. He promised to never leave you again.

Phantom

Once he finally got control of his glamour, he was allowed out of the Ministry.

Swiss had taken him to a shopping mall, letting him explore and choose his own style (on Copia’s dime of course).

They were taking a break at an Auntie Anne’s when he smelled something absolutely fantastic – and no, it wasn’t the cinnamon sugar pretzels.

Even as Swiss tried to reel him back, he walked over to you. Apparently he needed to get more than just his glamour under control to hide his ghoulish tendencies.

He came up and sniffed around you, making sure that the scent was indeed yours.

He was intrigued, and began asking you millions of questions in the middle of the mall.

Swiss finally pulled him away and took him back to the Ministry, and you…you didn’t know why, but you followed. Secretly, but you still followed.

You roamed the gardens at night, and he came out when he realized that the smell wasn’t just in his imagination.

His ghoul form entranced you, and you decided then and there that you wanted to fall.

There were nightly visits for about a month before you got the warning from Heaven.

He didn’t want you to fall. You were so pure and beautiful…but then he thought about you being a fallen angel. No limitations to your relationship.

So you fell. It was a painful break, but he was there for you.

He held you as you cried, did his best to cheer you up, and helped you find your place in the Ministry. He helped you find your place in the world.

Cirrus

It’s a situation similar to Mountain’s.

You were trying to fall. Trying to give God a reason to cast you out.

When she meets you, she’s confused and doesn’t know what to do.

She doesn’t know whether to push you away or pull you in.

It’s a lot of fighting and a lot of back and forth.

The two of you almost hated each other, but you couldn’t stand to be away from her.

You had already fallen, but there was something about you that was still so heavenly, and she couldn’t stand it.

She was one of the toughest ghouls, but slowly, her hard exterior began to chip away.

You broke her down and forced her to show her vulnerability.

And when she did, you saw just how scared she was.

But you were there to help her, and she was going to help you.

Cumulus

You were just a curious little thing, and she was excited to help.

Everyone thinks Cumulus is soft, but she was beyond thrilled to make you fall.

She’s decently possessive, and Heaven had their claws on what belonged to her.

She helped you learn Earthly ways while sneaking in her own corruption.

But when you did fall? She was terrified.

You were hurt, and she caused it. She didn’t want to see you.

She let the pack tend to you and your wounds.

She only saw you again when you made your way into her room, nothing but a blanket covering you.

She sobbed at the sight of you, and held you so tight.

You were her angel, and she messed up. Even though you’d forgiven her, she felt that she messed up, and she wasn’t going to forgive herself.

Sunshine

This happened in the weirdest way.

She was literally watching Lilo and Stitch, and that one scene where Lilo is praying. Sunshine thought it would be funny to try it out herself.

Walking over to the window, she kneeled down in front of it. “Maybe send me an angel. The nicest angel you have,” she repeated, folding her hands and giggling heavily.

Well giggling until she heard a very chipper “hello” from her bed.

And there you were: wings, golden glow, even pretty robes.

“What the fuck!” “Well that’s not very nice.”

There is an angel. On her bed. And a really really pretty angel at that.

She’s insanely curious as to who you were, and why you chose to come to the call of a demon in a satanic church.

You explain that you were sent to help the sinner in question (her) repent. Because obviously that's why she called you.

She had to explain that she was just joking of course, and that honestly just confused you.

You were very curious about the demon, and she was very curious about you.

There were visits at least once a week to each other after that.

You were given a warning, which is extremely generous of the head angels to give. They only gave you one more chance to stop your visits.

You began feeling guilty about lying, but you stopped visiting. Until you heard that same call. How could you resist?

You came back to her, and she managed to get you to stay the night.

You woke up earlier than her, and quietly rolled out of bed. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the feathers in your wings. Some still white, others graying, and others pitch black. You had fallen.

She felt so guilty, but honestly was more glad. No more restraints from Heaven keeping you from her. She was going to be your forever protector.

Aurora

Similar to Sunny, she summoned you on complete accident.

Sometimes, ghouls will read the bible for shits and giggle, and she was reading random scriptures. In between the pages was a random paper scribbled with incantations on how to summon an angel.

She watched Hocus Pocus one time, and decided that being a witch was her new favorite thing, so of course she decided to play around.

She was curious, and wanted to see what would happen.

So she summoned you on a random Tuesday.

Your curiosity matched hers perfectly.

She taught you all of the human things that she was taught. 

She was so proud of herself!! She even showed you off to Cirrus. 

Cirrus gave her a look of “what the actual everloving fuck?” and told her that you had to go.

Both of you refused, but soon, you felt a tug pulling you back to Heaven.

It was months before you returned.

Aurora became very depressed, only coming out of her room when forced. Heaven realized that you were feeling the same way over a demon.

They kicked you out immediately.

Cirrus was the first to find you after you fell, and immediately took you to Aurora.

Aurora immediately curled around you, keeping you protected and safe from the atrocities Heaven committed against you.

You were pulled from her once, and it would not happen again.

[morning-star-joy]

I'll plant a garden in the yard (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, Post!Outbreak Neighbors

Summary: You're Joel's new next-door neighbor when he settles in Jackson, and you're determined to add some positivity to the grumpy old man's life. This time, instead of baked goods, you show up on his doorstep with another housewarming gift. (based off this request)

Tags/Warnings: Mild language, Joel is unintentionally an asshole, Soft!Reader, implied age gap, things get a little bit kinky/horny if you squint but nothing explicit

Wordcount: 1.9k

Part I || Part II || Part III || Masterlist (More Parts Coming Soon)

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel Miller was, for lack of a better term, an asshole.

Look, you didn’t like calling him that. And you would never dare to say it aloud, but when he took the neighborly welcome in the form of freshly baked banana bread you had spent an afternoon making only to shut his door in your face right afterwards—yup, total asshole.

Still, you had squared your shoulders back, not letting the slight affect you as you introduced yourself through the closed door anyway, before spinning on your heel and making the very short journey back to your own house right next-door.

You knew right from that moment that being Joel’s neighbor would be a very interesting, very peculiar, and maybe sometimes very aggravating circumstance.

The man triggered some smidgen of curiosity from you, though, you had to admit. There was something about the severe set of his brow, the deep-set wrinkles on a hardened face, that caught your attention. Not to mention a frown that you hadn’t seen alleviated for a moment just during the short few minutes you had spoken to him.

Joel hadn’t said a word back, instead letting you ramble on and on, until he roughly muttered thanks for the baked sweets, taking the plate from you to hold in large hands before the infamous door shutting incident.

Large hands. Surely, they would completely envelop yours.

And would they be rough? Callused? Clearly he had lived a hard life, and most likely a long life at that. You were friends with Tommy, and knew how much older he was, and if his brother was even older…

Clearing your throat, you shook your head sharply, wiping the back of your hand across your forehead to get rid of the sweat accumulating there. You glanced from the soil covering your fingers to the freshly planted flowers in front of you, grinning to yourself as you leaned back on your heels to get a better view of the big picture, satisfied with how the new addition to your little garden looked.

When you rose to your feet, it was with a small bunch of bright, freshly bloomed flowers in your hand, clutched tightly as you collected your shears and walked to your back porch.

Your backyard’s small garden has been your pride and joy since arriving in Jackson. Upon settling into your home that was much smaller than the one next-door, you had started the slow process of planting whatever seeds you could find or trade for, taking the time to care for the flowers that eventually grew until they flourished over months of hard work.

Now, you were deciding to share a little bit of that hard work to hopefully brighten the day of your gloomy next-door neighbor.

You hadn’t seen Joel much since he moved in. In fact, you weren’t sure if the man hardly ever left his house.

Ellie, on the other hand, you had caught a few times as she made the journey down from their front porch to the main street.

“Oh, hey!” she had called to you the first time you saw her as you sat on your porch one afternoon, returning your friendly wave with one of her own. “You’re the one who made the banana bread!”

“Yes, that was me,” you smiled, amused as to how you had been deemed the baker by the girl before she left, though not without her giving you a thanks that was considerably more genuine than the stoic man who had received the baked goods from you.

You huffed quietly, shaking any hint of bitterness from your mind. No, you didn’t want to think of him, or anybody, in that way. This world was too cruel, and staying alive was too rare and beautiful a thing to taint it by carrying that kind of hatred around in your heart.

So you dropped your shears off on the small table for gardening supplies on your back porch, before sliding open the back door and heading inside. You hurried through your house, letting the front door shut behind you without so much as a glance back before you were walking down your front path and up to Joel’s.

The stems of the flowers were still clutched tightly in your hands, and you distracted yourself by looking down at each one, noting the colors and thinking over each type as you waited for an answer to your knocking.

When there was none, you frowned, leaning forward on your tiptoes to knock again, a bit louder this time, as opposed to your gentle few taps on the wood that you had given the first time.

Shifting on your feet, you glanced down at your sandals, only then noticing how the bottom of the faded, pale blue sundress you wore today had dirt smudged on the hem.

“Oh,” you murmured to yourself, frowning as you reached a hand down to try and brush it off, only for your eyes to widen when you saw your fingers were covered in soil. “Oh, shoot.”

You glanced around before pivoting to look behind you, wondering if you could make a quick getaway back home to clean yourself up, when the door finally swung open.

Spinning back around, you looked up at the surly man holding it open, staring at you with that same crease in his brow as you stood there, holding a small assortment of flowers in very dirty hands, with an equally dirty sundress on his front porch.

“Um—” you coughed, clearing your throat as you straightened with the intensity of that gaze on you.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if Joel intended to look at people that way—like he was not only sizing them up, but sending a message on how quickly he could take you down if needed—before gesturing lamely with the flowers in your hands.

“These are for you,” you said quietly, trying to find your footing, but you were out of your element with a considerably unkempt appearance and that cold, analytical gaze focused on you.

So you looked away, taking a quiet, deep breath to compose yourself, finding it much easier to speak when you weren’t having to make such direct eye contact with Joel. “I thought it could help brighten you up a bit.”

Or, you thought it was easier to talk.

When you realized what you had said, your eyes widened, snapping back to his to see his face was still mostly blank, but his eyebrows slowly unfurled enough so he could arch one as you stammered, “That is, uh—I didn’t mean to say you weren’t bright. I just—your house, I mean. Brighten up your house.”

You winced internally, shifting again on your feet, and Joel’s gaze shifted, quickly scanning down your body before they snapped back up to your face.

Something about that quick once-over made you hold the flowers even tighter, feeling your cheeks heat in what had to have been embarrassment as he must have noticed how dirty you were when you showed up at his house.

“Sorry,” you murmured, holding back the subconscious need to brush out your dress when you remembered how dirty your fingers were. “I just got finished in the garden. Forgot to wash up.”

Joel shrugged then, a small movement of his shoulders, before you heard him speak for the second time since you had met him, “A little dirt never hurt nobody.”

Your cheeks were heated in embarrassment. Only embarrassment. Yes, you were just embarrassed and there was absolutely nothing else that you were feeling at that comment, nope. Nothing at all.

Shoving the flowers forward, you held them out for Joel to take, watching as he didn’t even flinch at the dirt that dropped from your fingers as he slowly took them, even as he was careful to avoid touching your hand when it retreated from the stems.

“Oh,” you perked up, leaning forward a bit to point towards a couple of the flowers, ignoring the way Joel leaned away at your movement, just like he did with the banana bread, as you said cheerfully, “Those ones are for Ellie. The yellow daisies.”

Joel stared at your face for a moment, his mouth notably set into a firm line—not a frown, you noticed—even as you smiled brightly up at him, before he slowly looked down at the daisies in his hand. “Okay.”

“They’re for cheer and friendship,” you continued, unable to hold back your enthusiasm as you spoke of the flowers, even though Joel had not asked, and most certainly didn’t care as he stared at you blankly again. “To help her settle in Jackson.”

“Flowers are going to help her settle in Jackson?” Joel said plainly, almost sarcastically, and you stiffened for a moment before smiling again.

“Well, a gesture of goodwill can help, I think,” you replied easily, your tone as light and genuine as you meant the sentiment to be, and Joel’s gaze flashed away from you at the sound of it.

“What about these?” he asked, holding the flowers almost as awkwardly as the way you had offered them, gesturing to the ones next to the daisies with his other hand.

“Oh, those are for you,” you replied, pointing to them yourself as you added, “Daffodils.”

“Okay.”

You both were silent for a moment, staring down at the collection of bright yellow flowers, and you watched as Joel almost seemed to hesitate for a moment before asking, “What do I do with them?”

“Well,” you started, your lips titling up in a half-smile as you decided to take a risk and tease, “Traditionally, you put them in a vase. Fill it with water.”

“Oh, funny,” Joel muttered, and you bit your lip, worried that you may have crossed a line too soon.

But when you looked closer at his face, you swear it didn’t look quite as severe as before, and a giggle slipped past your lips as you realized he may have been teasing back, in his own way, before you could try and hold back the sound.

Joel glanced up at you at the sound, staring at your face before glancing down at your hands where they had subconsciously found the edge of your dress to hold onto it, and he quickly shifted away, stepping back into the safety of his home as his other hand found the door.

“Thanks,” he mumbled again, his voice just as coarse—and deep, and rough, and masculine, with that distinct Southern accent hanging from the word—as the first time he had thanked you for a gesture of neighborly goodwill, before he closed that door right in your face yet again.

A small sigh was pulled from your lungs, your shoulders deflating as you let yourself glare in momentary frustration at the barrier for just a split second before brightening up again.

“You’re welcome, Joel!” you called, turning away before pausing, considering before adding loudly, “Er, Mr. Miller? Do you prefer that? Or is Joel fine?”

There was no reply, but you hadn’t heard his footsteps carry away from the door yet either.

So you waited, perhaps for too long a moment, shifting awkwardly in your sandals and dirty dress before saying cheerfully, “Alright—Mr. Miller, then! Until you tell me otherwise, at least. Enjoy your flowers!”

You spun, your dress flaring around you as you skipped down the steps and bounced down the pathway, feeling at least somewhat successful that you had gotten him to take the flowers.

One could only hope that he actually put them in a vase and didn’t throw them away at the first chance.

Lord knew he could use that extra brightness.

[lanadelnegan]

Can you do a pt 2 to your Negan and reader fuck buddies story where some guy gives a his jacket to reader because she gets cold and Negan is working outside and he can see them and when she goes over to him later he's like "who's jacket is that" and she's just like "idk some guys" and he's like "you don't remember his name?" And she's like "No, not really" and then he just whispers good and starts kissing her and then it hits reader that he's super jealous and she starts smiling and shit and they end up having rough sex (matting press pls 😈)

Anon request #2: I love your writing so much and i LOVED your latest post for Negan omg can you do a pt. 2 or something where Negan sneaks off with reader during the day and eats her out since she sucked him off before 🙏 again you're writing is absolutely amazing keep up the amazing work ♥️

___________________________________________

Gonna combine these two since they're similar! Thanks for the requests, ilyyyy 😘

Lip Gloss (Pt. 2)

S10/11 Negan x Reader

Part one here

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex, heavy breeding kink, mentions of future pregnancy, mention of death (negan threatening other men)

It's been a few days since I've visited Negan in his cell, so when I spot him across the yard doing some gardening, I can hardly pry my eyes off of him. They just started letting him help out around here, and I'm happy for him.

I try not to stare, not wanting others, or him, to catch me in the act. I just got back from dropping some supplies off at Hilltop, and I continue walking, eager to finally to get back to my own house. I shiver and grip the unfamiliar jacket closer to me as I walk past him, hoping he doesn't notice me. I can't risk someone seeing us.

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?"

I walk slower but don't turn around.

"You've gotta be kidding, y/n. Not even a hi?"

I turn this time, walking over to him while glancing around. Luckily everyone is either in their homes or far enough away where they won't notice.

"Negan, it's not personal. You know that. But we can't be seen being all sweet on each other."

He grins down at me cockily.

"Then don't. Slap me. Yell at me. Do what you have to fucking do, but don't ignore me."

When I don't respond, his face turns serious and his brows come together. "Whose fucking jacket is that?"

I look down, blushing a little. "I dunno." My hands slide in the pockets. "Some guy's."

"Oh, some guy? You don't remember his name?" He whispers down at me.

"No. I was just cold, Negan. I didn't even ask him his name." I look at him confused.

The side of his mouth raises into a smirk. "Good."

"Aw, is someone.. jealous?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

Without warning, he grabs my wrist out of the jacket pocket and pulls my body against his before pressing his lips into mine.

After a couple seconds, I jerk away quickly and look around. "Negan! What the fuck!" I whisper yell at him.

"No one's lookin', doll." His hand presses into my lower back, pulling me into him again. His other hand tilts my chin up to kiss me again.

"Someone could be looking from their window." I say in between our kisses.

"Then let's give them a goddamn show." He deepens our kiss, slipping his tongue in my mouth as I moan into him.

"Negan." I breathe out.

"Come see me tonight, baby. It's my turn to make you feel good."

"No. I need you.. now."

His smirk widens into pure arrogance as he looks down at me. "Hell baby, I am not gonna say no to that." He looks around to make sure we're still alone. "Come on."

He leads me to the side of one of the houses until we're out of sight before crashing his lips into me hard, pressing my back into the exterior wall.

His bulge presses into me firmly and I reach for him but he grabs my hands.

"Not so fast, baby. I am fucking starving." He whispers as he unbuttons my pants, quickly sliding them and my underwear down and off my legs. My eyes widen as I look around, hoping no one walks by.

"Negan.. maybe we shou-"

Before I can finish, he's on his knees in front of me, throwing my leg over his shoulder, and burying his face into my pussy.

My mouth gapes open as I stare down at him. He licks from my hole to my clit before stopping and sucking it lightly.

"Oh my god." I breathe out. "Negannn." My fingers lazily grip his salt and pepper hair as I moan out.

He pulls back for a moment to look up at me.

"God, baby. You gotta fucking come see me more. This pussy is my new favorite meal." He dives back in like a starving man, devouring me from the inside out.

"Negan.. Negan, I'm getting close." I whimper out, leaning my head against the wall and pushing his head closer to my center. His tongue laps at my dripping hole while his nose nudges my clit.

"Can you squirt, baby? Want you to spray those delicious juices all over my face."

I shake my head. "I’ve never, uh - I don't think so."

He chuckles before pressing his face back into my cunt.

"I do." His lips move against me as he slides his middle finger teasingly through my folds and slipping it deep inside my pussy. He curves it in a "come here" motion while sucking my clit simultaneously and my orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, almost knocking me from my feet.

Negan steadies me with his other hand under my thigh so I don't collapse.

"Fuuuck! Negan!" I suddenly feel a pool of warm liquid between my legs and he groans loudly, licking up every drop. "That's a good fucking girl!" His deep voice vibrates my center.

He pulls back once he's licked up every drop. I blush at the sight of my wetness glistening on his lips and beard.

"I knew you could do it, baby. So fucking proud of you."

He stands up and I slowly trace my lips over his, rubbing my own wetness from his mouth over mine.

The faint sounds of voices appear in the distance and I quickly throw my pants back but not before realizing my panties are gone. I look at his jeans to see them sticking out of his pocket.

He shrugs innocently when I look at him and I roll my eyes. Such a Negan move.

"You just gonna leave my blue balls hangin', sweetness?"

I grab his hand, leading him to the back of the house, which happens to be mine. "You have such a way with words."

"So I've been told." He grins as we enter the backdoor and I waste no time kissing him and leading us to the couch.

"Y/n, listen. We need to talk first." He interrupts.

"What's there to talk about? I need you in me." I continue kissing him while taking my pants off clumsily.

I quickly discard the jacket, then my shirt and bra, leaving me completely exposed to him.

"You are such a fucking smoke show, doll. Holy hell. Don't know what you're thinkin' givin' an old man like me the time of day."

I shrug. "Not a lot of options around here."

He chuckles before slowly walking towards me. "No? Maybe you should go live with your boyfriend at Hilltop, then."

"Maybe I will.." I whisper up at him before he picks me up suddenly, throwing me over his shoulder.

I yelp as I'm turned upside down. "Negan!"

He walks us towards the first door he sees, my bedroom, and kicks it open forcefully while smacking his hand on my bare ass and throwing me on the bed.

"Negan! You just broke my door!"

"Not the only thing I'm about to break, sweetheart.”

I lean up on my elbows and watch him undress. My mouth waters when his cock finally springs free.

I bend my legs, raising my knees and spreading my legs apart in front of him while my hand drifts to my aching center.

Negan watches me lustfully while he pulls his t-shirt off.

"Y/n. Remember when I said we needed to talk?"

I nod my head and slowly circle my finger around my clit. "Yes." I moan out quietly, keeping eye contact with him.

His eyes drift towards my pussy, watching me touch myself for a moment before meeting my gaze again.

"I care about you." He admits.

My finger drops lower to my hole before teasing it. "I care about you too, Negan."

He climbs on the bed on top of me, grabbing each of my wrists and bringing them above my head.

"I'm serious, y/n. I'm tired of sneaking around." His eyes search mine.

"So what does this mean? For us?”

"I don't want to hide what we have anymore."

"Negan - if they find out.."

"Then what? They cut off our heads as punishment?" He says sarcastically. "They'll get over it... Do you want this? To be together?"

"Yes." I breathe out.

That's all he needs to hear before crashing his lips into mine and kissing me passionately. My hands rub over his smooth back as our tongues explore each other's mouths.

“Told you you’d my girl eventually, baby.”

I'm so caught up in kissing him that I barely notice him positioning himself at my opening, until he rams into me in one swift motion.

I moan out as he stretches me open and thrusts into me fast and deep.

“I know how we can show them who you belong to.” He whispers lowly.

“H-how?”

“I could pump you full of my cum every fucking day until my baby grows inside of you.”

My eyes widen. “Negan…”

He smirks. “It’s okay, baby. We don’t have to rush it. You’ll want my baby.. eventually.”

“No.” I quickly blurt. “I want it. I want you to put a baby in me.”

“Yeah?” He smirks down at me as he fucks me faster.

He leans back on his knees for a moment before wrapping his arms around my thighs and bringing them up, spreading them as far as they’ll go before leaning back over me and fucking me harder than before.

He’s so much deeper from this angle and I moan out loudly as his heavy balls slap against me.

“Negan! I’m cumming!” I cry out and he growls, pounding me faster and deeper.

“That’s right, baby. Let go. Soak my fucking cock.”

And I do just that.

His hand reaches down between us to swipe up some of my juices with his finger before sucking them into his mouth. “Cant get enough of this sweet fucking cunt. Could drink you like water, baby.”

I kiss him, tasting myself on him and we moan together. “I could cum just from the taste of you.” He whispers in my mouth.

“So cum.” I whimper and his head falls lazily to the side of mine as he buries his face in my neck.

He groans in my ear as he stops thrusting, pushing himself deeper than I thought possible. My legs wrap around his waist and dig into him as I moan from the feeling of his cock pulsing and seed filling me to the brim.

His lips find mine again as he starts pumping himself in me slowly, deliberately pushing his load deeper and deeper.

“Cant wait to see this belly swollen with my fucking kid, baby. He says before finally pulling out.

I smile lovingly at him as he gets dressed. “Negan, it’s starting to get dark. They’ll wonder where you are soon.”

My heart hurts at the thought of him leaving and sleeping in that stupid fucking cell any longer. But now isn’t the right time. We need a plan.

“I know.” He drops his head while climbing off me and the bed and dressing himself.

“Fucking sucks. I wanna stay with you.”

“You will soon. We’ll find a time to tell everyone, but not tonight.”

Negan just nods understandingly. “I’ve waited this long. A few more lonely nights won’t hurt. At least I have these to keep me company.” He shoves my panties deeper in his pocket while raising his eyebrows at me.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Come on, I’ll walk you out.” I lace my fingers between his as we walk the short distance to the living room and back door.

He picks up the strange man’s jacket from the floor on his way out, flinging it over his shoulder irritably.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll dispose of this for you.” He reaches for the door before turning around and placing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“Oh, and if another man offers you another goddamn article of clothing, I’ll hang him with it.”

The end. Xx

[coffeeandbatboys]

Find me and don’t let go (Rex x Fem!Reader)

I was listening to Smart Iowa by Trousdale, and it made me think of this. I’m probably going to make a part 2

Warnings: angst, reunions, mentions of order 66, mentioned depression, happy ending, fluff, injury

It’s been 693 standard rotations since you fled Coruscant. You’d left everything behind when the troopers turned their guns on you. You were only a weapons officer, but standing up for your Jedi commander had labeled you a traitor.

Somehow, you ended up on Kintoni, a farming planet with rows of corn that went on as far as you could see. You’d gotten a cabin with a garden and adopted a little orphaned Tooka. This is where you stayed. You almost wished that your husband could see the life you’d built. It had been something you had talked about for “after the war”.

But the last time you’d seen him had been not long before order 66. He kissed you goodbye and left with Ahsoka.

You tried to contact him, but all you knew was that their Venator had crashed into a moon. You were devastated because the only thing that had kept you going through the war was Rex.

Footsteps sound from the porch, pulling you from your thoughts—followed by a groan and a frail knock.

Your Tooka growls, though it’s hardly threatening. You grab your blaster defensively, peering through the window. A cloaked figure is leaned against the doorframe, but 501st blue vambraces catch your eye.

It can’t be.

You throw the door open and…

There he is.

He’s bleeding, and his eyes are screwed shut in pain, but he’s alive. The blonde fuzz peeking out from beneath the hood tells you so.

“Rex?!?” You cry, reaching a shaking hand out to steady him.

He sways when his head snaps up. Upon seeing you, he falls to his knees and cries. You follow, hitting the ground and wrapping him up in your arms. You both cry.

“Mesh’la?” He chokes out. You nod into his shoulder, tears still flowing.

“You found me, Rex. I’m here.”

“Maker. Oh, Maker,” he cries “I thought you’d been killed and—“

You scoff, cutting him off. “I thought you were dead, love.”

He holds you tighter and cries into your chest.

“I’m right here, cyare.”

“I missed you.” You cried. “I almost couldn’t go on.”

Rex feels his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Am I…” he hesitates. “Am I still your husband?”

The question makes you sob harder, but you pull away to cup his face.

“You’re the only man I have ever loved. Of course you’re still my husband.”

That’s the only confirmation he needs, catching your lips with his in a kiss you’ve waited nearly two years for. It’s followed by many desperate little kisses before you pull away, making up for lost time. He presses his forehead to yours, tears still slipping down both of your cheeks.

“Rex.” You cry. “I love you so much.”

He nods, wincing. “I love you more, Mesh’la.” He sucks in a breath and whimpers a little bit and you remember his injuries.

You pull away instantly, horrified that you could have forgot.

“Right, kriff. Here—“ he’s quite a bit larger than you, but you help him into the cabin and onto the chair that sits in the middle. You run to the ‘fresher and grab your med pack, returning to his side in record time.

He chuckles, noticing how flustered you are. You dab at the bruises and scratches on his face with the bacta gel, heart full of joy because he’s here. You don’t care how he got hurt or how he found you, because he came home to you. You couldn’t ask for anything more. He takes your hand to kiss your knuckles, and that’s when you know that everything is gonna be okay.

[razbunz]

V A M P

Sephiroth x Fem!reader CW: Blood and light gore, A teaspoon of smut, Petnames (Angel, Doll, ect) , Fangs used as an aphrodisiac, Sephiroth is OOC, takes place mid 1800s, slight angst, 6k WC.

It's desolate on the streets, no surprise from the recent stormy April weather. You can hope it's going to boost the flowering process in your garden. Just enough for some early daffodils to sprout from their buds into full flowers, for sweet smelling roses to travel with each draft. 

Even as a creaking stagecoach slows to a stop in front of your house.

“Madame!” A voice breaks up your thinking, you look at the man who calls for you, He has short jet-black hair that compliments his striking green eyes- they shine with the little sun that peaks through the clouds.

“Ah! Monsieur!” You bow your head and fix your posture “Need some assistance?” you inquire.

“Nothing but a letter for me to deliver ma’am.” He retrieves an envelope from his back pocket, it's dotted with a gold and green wax stamp.

“Why thank you.” Courteously thanking him, taking the letter cautiously and flipping it a few times over searching for a name; but there's nothing.

“Can I help you with anything else though Sir?” You ask as he shakes his head and offers a respectful bow. Giving you his name- Zack Fair.

“Thank you Mr Fair, see you around.” You wave gently as he turns to the wagon.

You close the front gate and enter your house looking for a letter opener, the glint of metal catching your eyes, going over to slit the letter open.

Oddly eager to see what's inside- you can hope for payments from your last event! But it's unlikely. Instead you're met with neat cursive written on crisp paper and reads…

Dear Ms L/N, I appreciate the floral centerpieces you made for us a few months back, Though the flowers are wilted my mind is still stuck on you. No dame I've seen has shun as bright and vibrant as you, With your smile and wit I have fallen. In love with your nurturing care towards others and the way you hold yourself. I acknowledge that you own the Wespritz Grove, so humbly I ask of you to join me at DawnField Castle for this next week.

Spend it by my side and perhaps you can see if palace life is befitting of you. As I can hope.

On April 23 I will send Zack to retrieve you, Please pack what you need to be comfortable- Though I assure you I will have most estentails.

-Sincerely S.

What? You can hardly believe you read it correctly. Questions run rampant throughout your head. What if he’s old and hideous? Or he just wants an heir? You shiver at the thought, But you’d be a fool to not give whoever they are, a chance. 

After all, you've briefly been past DawnField before, And nothing life threatening was mentioned.

Even if April 23d is only two days from arrival.

Waking up on that dewy morning is stomach wrenching, your head spins and twirls with every nauseating thought that passes through. So you try to keep yourself busy with dusting and pruning your flowers.

Ding ding

The door buzzes with life, you freeze up and carefully peak through the door jam. It's Zack, wearing a gray frock- his satchel gone in favor of a green pocket square.

“Are you prepared?” Zack asks and offers you his hand, It's gloved in a soft satin fabric. 

You look around once more- picking up your small suitcase.

“I suppose so.” A nod in confirmation is all you get before he leads you outside into the crisp morning air. Where a carriage rests outside the cobblestone street- He takes your bag and steps up into the Coach box, lifting you up inside the carriage where lush velvet seats meet you. 

He tells the driver to take off and the horses are set.

For hours you look listlessly outside, Peaking over wooden bridges to gaze at the rushing waters underneath and the trunks of trees.

Until the path becomes rocky and strewn with pebbles, and tall steeples of a palace grow from the ground. Seeing it from here makes you imagine how big it is once your feet hit the floor.

Clinking chains and aching wood is enough of a realization to peer out the windows to view the outer castle grounds.

Hash footsteps fill your ears, you reach for the door but Zack gets there before you, swinging it open to the cooler mountain air.

“Let me do that m’lady.” He gives a soft smile comforting your racing heartbeat.

Stepping down on the hard gravel it crunches beneath your feet.

You could never imagine that a castle would ever be this big. 

It towers over you with panes of meticulously crafted stained glass, it depicts an angel holding up a rising star.  Two giant oak panels serve as doors engraved with paisley swirls.

Doormen hold them open closing with a boom as Zack leads you in. High ceilings painted like the Sistine Chapel decorated with tiny cherubs and sirens line the marble pillars which hoist the ceiling up. 

You could have only dreamed of seeing this as an adolescent.

Large decorative paintings adorne the weathered walls, many depict vast nature scenes though many fade into desolate towns.

With him opening a lighter door in front of you, light green walls and a large canopy bed with tulle drapes is what you're met with. It smells dusty like the rooms never been opened.

“His highness has invited you to dinner, do join. Though if you need anything ring the bell- it'll bring someone to assist you.” He nods and turns away, not before you stop him.

“Do you need something?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No I- thank you.” You fumble with your words, he seems worried as you say it. 

“Don't mention it.” as he leaves with haste.

Sudden, is the only way you can describe his exit. 

Your bag is dropped off shortly later and you unpack the few clothes you have, A small tea dress and some other more worn ones. You wish you had something better to present yourself in- to the King? Lord? Someone with money and power whatever he is, it'd be for the best to look nice.

Knock… Knock… You scramble up from your bed to answer the door,

“Hello Madame, I'm Miss Davenshaw- Your personal maid. I’ll be here to help you throughout the week.” She curtsies even when you stand awkwardly at her.

“Umm much appreciated.” You attempt to form a shaky curtsy back. 

“No need.” she shakes her hands in front of her. 

You move out of the way for her to enter your room, she bustles past and goes straight to the large wardrobe in the wall.

Whipping it open to reveal dresses of different lengths, fabrics and colors are sitting in the closet. Unlike the room they smell new, and fresh. 

“Ahh there it is, He's requested for you to wear the emerald one, All your options are open though.” Miss Davenshaw hands it to you. 

It's gorgeous, decadent emerald silk that almost melts in your hands. It's a color that only appears in your Zinnia’s. Never in cloth.

“Does it suit your fancy?” she asks and wipes her hands down on her skirt awaiting your response.

“It's absolutely gorgeous.” you let out a soft chuckle, and look over the fabric once more.

“Then let's get it on?” she ensures and once you nod she starts to assist you getting you out of your road clothes.

To your surprise dress fits perfectly, It holds and hugs your curves and doesn't scrunch up much when you sit down. Once you're in your dress with a little bit of hair tasseling she leads you to the dining room. 

Arriving at the dining room the doors are locked with Zack standing guard out front, he greets you with a nod and looks you up and down, Quickly- as if it's a crime to look at you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, wondering if you don't look enough to be meeting whoever rules this castle.

He opens the doors, taking you into the space. Just like many rooms of the castle you've seen everything is fit, well for a king. A huge center table with a glistening candelabra lights up the room, while through the windows you can view the mountains off in the distance.

Someone sits at the end, it feels like a mile away. 

He pulls out his chair walking up to you- gesturing for Zack to leave. You almost don't want him too. Shockingly, the person who approaches you is young. And let out a smirk with the small cursty you give him.

Long silky hair that sways with each movement he makes, with bangs that cover some of his face- and as he stands in front of you his deep green eyes meet yours. They watch your hands twitch and the goosebumps that raise on your arms.

“Relax.” a cold hand covers your shaking one. 

“I apologize for the wait, I had business matters to take care of.”  He straightens his collars and looks back down at you. “I am Sephiroth, Lord of the castle, writer of the letter.” You look up at him, towering over you- it’s hard to muster an answer when he looks at you like that.

“Oh, it was very sweet… thank you.” You attempt to compose yourself.

“Sit with me?” he gestures to the table, walking to one end where you match him at the other.

Sitting down you adjust the dress, waiting patiently for him to begin to eat the food in front of him.

“Go ahead, I'm not hungry.” He reassures you as you open the cloche to eat the lean meat inside, it looks like venison. Bloody but delightfully warm- enough to keep you seated.

Sitting across from you he asks you questions, along the lines of ‘How was the trip?’ or ‘I hope this all accommodates you.’

Sephiroth is kinder than you thought, He's patient and unbelievably attractive.

When you finish your plate, you see Sephiroth approaching you,  he adjusts his gray vest and offers his hand out. You reach your hand out- his skin frigid and places a gentle kiss onto the top of your hand. It makes your cheeks heat up. You hope he can't tell in the candlelight

“Will you let me escort you back for the night?” His face is still so close to you, he smells like jasmine. 

“Please?” you pout up at him, begging without words. He takes your arm into his and walks you up the stairs infront of your door where he lets you go. 

“Au revoir che’rie” And waves you off as you enter the room. Hastily,you ring the bell for Davenshaw to undress you.

Once she leaves though the castle is eerie and dark, windows once bright in the day are now shadowed over with tall pine branches that curve and crack with the wind outside.

The entire place, once dark, has a sense of uncanniness. The oil lamp in the room is still going strong, and its light comforts you as you let down your hair.

You blow out the lamp and crawl into the sheets, the smooth cold fabric is easily recognizable as silk, you almost laugh to yourself imagining how much sheets cost.

It makes it easy to fall asleep.

*

Sunlight seeps through the flimsy curtains, without a doubt they are only there for decoration. Standing on the stone floors sends shivers up your spine, at least the ones near the windows are warm with the sun's grace. You don't believe anyone is up, at least not if they had a choice. Shimmying on a pale yellow tea dress, with little frills on the sleeves and hard buttons you place outside.

Closing the door with a soft thud, the castle sprawls out before you. Unlike night, it's much more homey. 

“Miss!” a shout echoes from down the hall, and you whip around to see a lady running after you. She carries a nude pair of flats as she sprints toward you. “I'm sorry to disturb you but I was sent for you this morning!” She explains as she attempts to catch her breath. “I'm just here to chaperone you around the castle, DawnField is much larger once you're inside I assure.” You tuck on the pair of flats she offers. You wait for her to fill her lungs before you continue walking, to join you it's best to be on good terms.

“I didn't know I needed a guide, sorry” you apologize to her. 

“It's okay! He just wants to make sure you're safe. And since you're a guest it's my job to give you some direction, no?”  She confirms.

Normally, walking around aimlessly isn't something you do, but given this morning. You cant help but see what the day could bring.

The girl explains a lot of the doors you go past, lots of them being spare bedrooms how many could you need? You ponder to guess- I mean there's even an indoor flour mill.

One room though that catches your attention is the library, you've never really had the opportunity to visit one. 

“Can we go there?” You ask.

“To the library?” She questions back to you “We can go.” she opens up the doors revealing endless shelves of books, reading seems like the perfect thing to do to pass some time.

You scrounge around looking for any novel to catch your eyes. A light rosette color with a faded gold lettering seems to be today's pick, you take it over to a tiny alcove with a daybed inside, laying down on the cushy fabric and adjusting the pillows.

“Can you read?” the girl asks you, while an innocent question it reminds you of what outsiders of the palace must appear as.

“That I can.” You chide and open the book.

‘Tales of the supernatural, Chapter one: Undead creatures.’ 

Pages after pages you read, clocks ringing with the hourly reminder of times passage. By the time you look up from your book it's 10 o’clock, sun is fully out.

Heavy footsteps take you out of your thinking.

“There you are!” a familiar man approaches you, its Zack with another guard by his side “His Majesty was wondering where you two ran off too.” Something about his voice sounds anxious, his fingertips twitch against his halberd.

You profusely apologize, “I wasn't trying to cause any trouble, what do you need Mr Fair?” you sit up dog-earring the page.

“You are invited to eat breakfast with the palace, if you are hungry?” The guard next to him moves forward, offering a hand. You take it and he helps you up. 

“I'd love that.”

All three lead you into a dayroom, a different area than where you ate dinner prior, increasing your questioning of how big is the castle really? The room is full of people who you haven't seen yet. As they follow you with their eyes, it's difficult to believe you're different from any of them.

In the midst of the people you spot Sephiroth, wearing simple dress pants and an overcoat. From where you stand you dont think there's a shirt underneath. 

He gestures you over, a maid pulling up a chair on the other side of the table. You're closer than last night- maybe only 4 feet apart. Upon sitting, conversations return to normal, and the room less tense. 

“How did you sleep?” He smiles, leaning in to ask.

“Rather well, Thank you.” You take a plate passed to you.

“Is everything to your liking so far?” He takes a sip of juice from his glass.

“It's a beautiful castle you have, Your majesty everything is so pristine~”  The castle is truly dreamy, if you're ignoring it at night…But you're not going to mention that.

“This makes me wonderfly happy to hear.” he claps his hands together and leans back into his chair. His skin almost glows in the sunlight, he still appears sickly pale though.

“Not trying to intrude, but are you not hungry?”  All he has is a glass of juice.

“Oh no, I ate with a merchant earlier, a ‘good deal always comes out of a meal’ is something I live by.” You laugh at his joking manner.

“I just want to see that you're alright, No harm meant but you're quite pale-”

His nails clink against the glass “No harm done, it's hard to catch some sun when I'm cooped up all day in here.”

He suddenly lights up “Speaking of going outside, we have a garden on the grounds! If you'd join me on a walk after breakfast…I'd be delighted.” His voice is honey smooth, dripping with elegance and charm.

“There's gardens!?” You ask, sitting upright and listening with full attention.

“Why of course, no castle is a castle without a garden, Darling.” He takes another sip. “And I'm sure one as familiar with plants as you are, might even be impressed.”

“That could be plausible.” You smile at him, enjoying the rest of your plate in a comfortable silence.

After breakfast, many servants retreat to their tasks while maids clean up whatever mess left behind, having someone do your dishes in front of you is different.

sephiroth waits for you under a large engraved oak arch, if you look closely the engravings are flowers, Angrec flowers…Maybe the gardens have some.

“Ready?” he awaits your reply, staying a step behind him even as your lead outside. Two guards stand mere steps behind you as well, so quiet you didn't notice them until they opened up outer doors.

“Sir, your coat?” one offers a long black coat, and Sephiroth takes it instantly.

“And one for the lady.” Sephiroth requests moments later “It looks blustery.” One guard goes away to fetch Miss Davenshaw.

The guard returns with a white cotton jacket, complementing your dress. You thank the guard as he helps put it on.  Sephiroth takes your hand as he leads you down the marble stairs, he wouldn't want to risk you falling of course.

Giant cypress trees make a wall of evergreens, smaller boxwood shrubs lining the path. 

Moving past the wall of trees, it opens up into what you can only assume is acres of land.

In the front are flowering roses, in the back you can imagine an orchard from the way workers are climbing up trees and shaking the branches.

“Thoughts?” he asks.

You wouldn't know how to even begin to explain to him the beauty of his gardens, not when you can smell the fruiting pomegranates from afar, not when you feel the chilled wind against your skin. And definitely not as he gently lifts up the furred hood of your jacket as you shiver, his fingers swiping against your cheek ever so slightly.

“Captivating.” you breathe into the morning air, turning just in time to see his mouth twitch up in a smile.

“I am overjoyed to hear this.” He claps his hands together, the guards behind you coming to attention.  Sephiroth ushers one over going to whisper a few words to him before both of them leave, and suddenly it's just the two of you left alone in the garden.

“I- where are they going?” you watch as they walk away.

Sephiroth speaks up “I'd just like some time for us, me and you. Unless that's a problem?” quirking an eyebrow he asks, focusing on your face.

“Nono, no problem, I was just wondering.” You stare at the ground, clicking your flats against the soil.

“Then you'll come with?” his eyes glisten with hope, meeting you soft gaze when you whisper a yes. He leads you through the garden through each row of blooming flowers to bushels of fruiting berries. 

“Is the castle your familys?” you ask looking at the ivory pillars supporting large potted ivies, large white feathers engraved in the smooth stone, you rub your fingers over it- feeling how with each cut it dips under your fingertips.

“It is.” he pauses to think “Why do you ask?” 

“Everything has a sense of cohesiveness, of royalty. All of the paintings I've seen are all gorgeous If I can add.” you continue to walk.

He nods “I appreciate that, But what about you?” A brush against your lower back guides you closer to him, his touch is soft- addicting. You clear your throat after his gesture.

“Well, what of me?”

“I want to know all about you, everything and anything that I can, your quite… what's the word?” he rubs his temple “Intriguing.” You beam at his complement, humming thinking of where to start.

“Hmmmm, Well when I was young I used to play with the earthworms when my mother asked for my help in the garden.” you scoff at yourself, looking up to Sephiroth for his reaction.

“She said it was ‘unbefitting’ of a young lady, that didn't stop me from laying them on a rock and naming them though.” you sigh at your reminiscing.

“That's oddly adorable” he chuckles “I can still see some of that in you today.” 

“Is that right?” you question him, all while he nods and smiles. 

He lets you go on with your tales, some recent, some old. He comments on them and laughs along with you as if you are old friends.

He's surprisingly easy to talk to, not once does he talk of his rank or power.

Right now, you're just two people on a walk.

Before you know it you're on the other side of the garden, laughing with him.

He leads you into the wooden building in front of you, he ushers you inside- and for the first time you're walking in front of him.

A neigh and trotting in the back confirm the smells of hay and dirt, they have stables.

“My Liege! What do you need?” A stablehand approaches him, bowing.

“Two of our finest horses, and a saddle for the lady.”  The stablehand bows before going to get what's asked.

Sephiroth shows you around the barn in the meantime, introducing you to the exterior staff.

He picks up a small pair of riding gloves, taking your hands in his- buttoning them securely onto yours. He lifts your now gloved hands and kisses the backs of them.

“Comfy?” He grins and lets them go, You can only nod dumbfoundedly. It doesn’t help that he chuckles at it either.

Luckily the stablehand comes in time to prevent you from an untimely death.

“I’ve brought Beau and Hazel sir, with a saddle for her.” The stablehand bows at you as well,

You thank him with a smile.

Sephiroth approaches a woodsy colored horse combing through his mane whispering his name. The horse whinnies at him and trots in place, he appears happy.

Sephiroth turns to you offering Hazels bridle to you, you take it albeit confused.

“Sir?” You attempt to gain his attention

“Yes?” He responds by turning towards you.

“I've never ridden before, I don't really even know how.” you rub the back of your neck.

“Oh that's no issue.” He brushes off  “I’ll give you a steady hand, if you need it.” he assures you. 

One of the stablehands helps you onto hazel, showing you where to put your feet on the stirrups, sitting there anxiously as Sephiroth switches to his riding gear.

“Are you ready to depart?” He hoists himself on the horse, taking the reins with confidence and sitting up straight.

“Now or never, I guess.” You try to imitate his posture and attitude, as many equestrians believe horses smell fear. 

Sephiroth leaves the stable first, and you attempt to follow after him. The horse is jumpy, jolting at you taking the reins. You hope it’ll understand your inexperience. Later down the path he waits for you, giving a few pointers to be more comfortable in the saddle.

“Is that an improvement?” he notes, watching you keenly as you roll your shoulders.

“Definitely better.” you remark and gently kick the horse to get it to move. Hazel and Beau stick by each other even as you try to guide them away.

Sephiroth guides down a winding woodsy path, only small strips of sun peaking through the canopy. Chittering of chipmunks and other small creatures can be heard underneath Sephiroth's low whistling. He whistles a tune that you've never heard of, and he hums some parts. And as the air gains a chill to it a stream pops into view.

You both dismount from your horses, staying behind Sephiroth like a lost puppy.  He keeps walking alongside the river, something silvery in his hand, it's a knife. You stay a little further back, silent.

“Are you okay? You're rather quiet.” he mentions as he digs through some brush.

“I'm just wondering why we’re down here. It's getting dark.” You look through the forest, you don't want to imagine what creatures might wander the woods.

Like some of the ones you read about- like a zombie, or even a wraith! His voice loops you back into reality.

“Oh, I didn't say?” he chuckles and shakes his head “ We are collecting water chestnuts for tonight's dinner.” The release of tension in the air is palpable and suddenly you feel like a fool.

“If you want you can help me, I have a spare knife in my saddlebag” he points to Beau.

You jog over there to fetch the knife, rubbing off the sticky rust-red substance on it.

“Glady.” and you go the opposite way of him, moving along the water looking for bushels of stalky leaves. Almost immediately you find some, digging it up with the flat end of your knife.

“These right?” You lift a bunch of them up for him to see. He squints before shouting a yes, moving towards you.

“Those are perfect, It takes me plenty of time to even find small ones.” He sheathes his knife 

“Though I suppose I am working with an expert.”  He winks at you and takes the bushel from your hand.

“Well,I wouldn't-” you attempt to defend yourself.

“Don't sell yourself short darling.” He claps his hands to cut you off. “No need to humble yourself around me, please.” You nod slowly, trying to make sense of what he's said, but his words are crystal clear. 

Grabbing the leather sheath for your knife you attempt to slide it in, but it catches one of the seams, slitting your palm open. You nurse your hand to your chest while inspecting the damage 

“Are you alright?” he comes up to you, gently taking your injured hand into his.

“It's just a little cut, it's not deep.” You try and fail to assure him. Sephiroth digs through his pocket, fetching a tiny handkerchief, Wrapping it over your palm tightly- his teeth digging into his lip to where it draws blood.

“Is that better?” He rubs the top of your hand- looking at you intensely as you move it with caution, nodding moments later.

The crimson seeps into the white fabric, staining it red. He turns away from you, gripping the reins to Beau until his knuckles are white.

“I think we should call it a night.” he barks out, there's no room for suggestions. You shuffle onto your saddle wondering if you did any wrong.

The ride to the castle is eerily silent, and once you arrive Zack hustles you to your room, where you're quickly dressed for dinner as another washes your face.

By the time your sat and served at the tables, he's not there.

“Zack?” you raise a question to him.

“Madame, what is needed?” he bows slightly. 

“Where is Sep-” 

“He is feeling ill.” Zack interrupts you, letting the servers aside to place down your entree.

The doors slam with an echo,Only two guards guard the entrances.

It's silent.

Every bite you take seems to echo, the meal is warm and tastes amazing. But it's different from before. Either way you finish up the stew and let someone in armor bring you back to your room. Your seamstress undresses you quickly with no words spoken.

Once she leaves you slump down in your beds burying your face into a pillow.

You didn't mean to fall asleep especially before bathing, but you do.

When you do wake up it’s too the sound of glass shattering next to your room. You peek outside the door to look at the commotion, but nothing is broken at all.

Remembering you didn’t take a bath yesterday you ring your bell for Ms Davenshaw to run a bath for you. The bath smells of lavender and warms your skin as she helps find an outfit for you.

She pulls from the wardrobe a lacy lilac dress with puffy sleeves.

Your day goes by rather slowly, mostly full of dragging your chaperone from the library to the garden, plenty of ways to waste time in a castle this large.

Sephiroth isn’t present again when dinner rolls around. You try to act cordial about it but it’s frustrating.

By now the dark night outside your window and a flickering oil lamp you sit and fiddle around with the corners of your bedding.

Tip tap

You pause, looking outside.

Scratch

You stumble towards the window holding a blanket to your body as makeshift armor, grabbing the dying oil lamp for comfort.

Holding the lamp to the window it shows nothing but the tall evergreens outside.

You pace around the room, listening keenly for each groan the wind seems to travel with. By now it’s not the wind that’s in pain.

Without a second thought you race into the hallway feet barren to the cold stone.

You follow the sound to a wall, to a wing you’ve never entered. Ignoring your more coherent thoughts you push the doors open and walk up the stairs lined with foreign rugs and the walls hung with extravagant tapestries that go ceiling to floor.

A giant chandelier made of silver and emeralds gives it a green lighting.

This must be where Sephiroth stays, right? If he’s in pain an attempt to help is better than none at all.

Entering his room it’s even more apparent that it’s his, Feathers of every creature imaginable are interwoven to create a canopy that covers the ceiling.

His bed is messy with blankets strewn everywhere, Your eyes travel to the floor where his clothes are doused in blood so much that it sticks to the floor.

Scratch marks are splintered into the golden wallpaper.

“Sephiroth?”  You call out for him, hoping for a response.

“Leave.” His voice rocks you to your core.

“Where are you? Let me help you.” You beg him, looking around the room.

“Just go.” He repeats, this time with more vigor. You stand still reaching out to where you hear his voice.

In a blink of an eye he appears in front of you, his dress shirt open and legs covered in the same baggy fabric. “I need you to leave.” His body shivers and he’s deathly pale, blood covers his mouth where two white fangs stick out- eyes slitted and pupils red.

You fall back at the sight, you would know if he was a monster!

“I didn’t need you to see me like this.” He gestures towards himself.

His nails are clawed from this angle, inhumane.

He looks you up and down staring at your face- his pupils dilate at the sight. 

“I just need you to help me.” He takes a breath “Help me Angel, please.” a whine leaves his throat, his nails gentle closing into the fat of your cheek, blood drips down his face with his skin sheened with a cool sweat. His shirt clinging to his chiseled body.Every atom in you begs to scream and run, but you don’t. He holds you in place and you nod, giving up to the vampire in front of you.

He lifts you onto the bed with him easily, lifting you onto his lap and brushing away any hair restricting his view of you.

“You're such a sweet girl.” you grimace at the feeling of his tongue tasting your skin.

“So smart yet so naive.” He huffs “Gorgeous.” He peppers kisses on your collarbone and neck.

“Will it hurt?” you ask, trying to fight off the warmth his tongue offers your body.

“Only for a second, my sweet girl.” He assures you as his teeth graze your skin.

“Promise?” a childish wish you ask upon him for reassurance.

“Of course darling, I promise the world to you.” He whispers into your skin  a puff of air blows over your skin, creating goosebumps in its wake.

“Relax for me, okay?” His voice is honeyed with hunger and bite, fangs glistening in the warm light.

He splays one hand over your stomach pinning you to his chest, while the other rubs over your inner thigh. And then he bites, everything in your body erupts into flames. Charring your skin and bones in an unstoppable fire- one that isn't real. 

“Shhhh shhhh, you're okay- it’s over now okay?” He gingerly laps up the warm blood seeping out of you, moaning at the taste. He sinks them once more into you, egging a whine from your limp body. It feels good.

You rut against him experimentally, gasping at the feeling it draws from you. Soon you're grinding on his thigh with no shame, biting your lip to quell any loose moans. 

Until you feel a large hand rub against your clothed cunt pulling your panties to the side, fingers slipping into your wetness. You freeze up breathing heavily at the foreign feeling as they curl up into you. Rolling your hips into his hands meeting his slow pace, moaning unabashedly as his thumb rubs the letter S onto your puffy clit.

He groans as you clutch onto him, breathing a low- “Make yourself feel good for me,Angel.” into your skin. Waves of pleasure continue to build up inside you, tears glistening on the corners of your eyes. His fingers rhythmically curl and scissor inside you- bringing you closer and closer to the edge. A pleased hum leaves him “Let go, let go for me.” he whispers to you.

It's all it takes for you to climax, releasing on his thigh with a sharp cry of his name.

He's all that you can think of, as he rubs your back in comfort.

Your eyes are hazed over in pleasure where only his name enters your mind,Sephiroth, Sephiroth, Sephi-

Too far gone to realize it's your neediness that's etched into the words spoken around the room. Everything spins slowly, drooping into his arms as if you're drunk. Though only one is drinking, it's your consciousness that slips.

Everything hurts… 

Is what you realize when you come to your senses, You can hardly move without feeling aching soreness. Opening your eyes shows Sephiroth clung to your almost bare body- your face burns red in shame. You try to shake away from his grasp “don't go, please.” His voice is soft but hoarse with the morning wakeup.

You avoid looking at the bloodbath on your right shoulder, taking every ounce of energy you have left to not gag. Even when you know it's yours.

“My dear- what have I done?!” he reaches out to hold your face, but retracts as his blood covered hands reach his vision. Cries of frustration echo in the room as he throws on whatever robe he could find. You try to follow him out but he gives you a harsh look, surprisingly the sheets are mostly undamaged which you're sure when he returns he’ll be thankful for.

Soft padded steps reenter the room, long white hair following the figure that comes into view.

“They are heating up a bath for you, they know as much as I told them.” His voice is curt, leaving no room for any questions. “You can leave now.”

He points towards the hall.

Arguing feels pointless against him, everything is nothing at once- Biting your lip is the easiest option. Miss Davenshaw escorts you outside as she covers you with an oversized sleeping dress, The blinds are closed in the hall leaving everything in a darkened veil, No words are spoken as she undresses you for bathing.

Warm water rolls over your skin loosening the blood stuck onto it with each scrub, By the time you exit the water the scent of lavender is what fills your senses now.

Zack drags you to your room and tells you to eat and rest, standing guard outside your room.

The heavy cloud of sleep over your eyes ushers you into your bed, sleep comes easy.

Upon Waking up you find that it's dark outside- ringing eerily similar to last night. 

A knock comes from your door creaking open to show green eyes meeting yours, but it's not Zack, Zack doesn't soften his eyes when he looks at you, and those eyes don't plead with you to let him in. And it works- your resolve crumbling as you let out a shy nod.

“I'm sorry, so sorry my dear.” he shuts the door quietly behind him, taking your hands into him. It's gentle, sincere. “They didn't tell me you’d be here, I promise I'm not here to harm.” he lets out an airy laugh “I want to apologize…tremendously for everything. If you desire to leave I cannot and will not stop you- Just don't lead the mobs back to me though I suppose I can't stop that either.” He shakes his head.

“I don't want to leave here, leave you.” You urge him.

“I am a monster, a beast that hides away for a reason, I shouldn't have ever brought you into this.” He furrows his brows and sighs.

“I- not to me.” you beg him to listen to you.

“Then you're wrong.” He finalizes and rolls his shoulders “Why don't you see what I am?” His voice is cracked,outlined in pain.

He takes off his jacket, black inky feathers falling from the coat he grimaces and in a blink of an eye black covers your vision. Feathers fall from every angle in the room, covering the floor in them. Sephiroth looks away as you scan his body and the wing that's sprouted from his skin.

There are droplets of blood where the wing came from, he hisses as you touch the line but lets you do so anyway.

Fangs peek out from his pursed lips, as him nails dig into the coats fabric-

“I told you.” he shakes his head and tucks his wing into his body using his hands to preen away any loose feathers.

“You didn't tell me.” you argue “You didn't tell me that the man I see in front of me is the same caring and beautiful man I've met over the last few days.” only breathing is heard in the silence.

“Not a monster, that's the last thing you are.” you put your hand by your side. “That's how I view you.” He looks at you with a gaze full of mixed emotions, and shakes his head.

“You're stubborn, and a little naive. Both traits I've happened to fall for-” he scoffs and beckons you closer. He wraps his wing around you suddenly, pushing you closer to his tall frame. “I was taught to not reserve the same fate as others before me. But with someone like you it has become difficult to not make another ‘mistake’ as many would say.” he looks down at you, cheeks flushing a light red. “If I ask you to stay though… would you?” his wing twitches and lets you go.

“I-” you can think of the rumors and speculations when your garden grows over, its unchanging. 

“I would.” His wing instantly pushes you to his chest, an arm wrapping around your waist, You find your lips parting themselves.

“I'll forever cherish you my love, I promise.” He leans down closer to your face, brushing your hair away from your lips. And as the feeling of sharp fangs dig into your lips, you smile.

Finis.

A/N- This was for shits and giggles at first, clearly that changed. If you enjoyed it support my ao3! Thank you, Razzy <3

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Reading in the bio seem there different types of faes and I think the snow leopard ask is trying to say that og Crewle daughter is a snow leopard type of fae ( maybe explain why she dressed light in summer and spring to prevent over heating but wear normally with pants in the other seasons, and to add in to fae mythology that faes can shape shift at will )

And thinking of something since Rook is a hunter, and Jack is that big dog who seem mean but nice

What will Rook, Jack, Riddle,Carter, Jamil,and Sebek ( because I liked that one story where he said something mean for og daughter Crewle being weaker then the average fae, so he there to properly apologize )

Went to look for Crewle daughter at the Ramshackle for something and see her at the garden area in her Snow leopard form sun bathing/napping in a bikini and not even noticed they are there

Separate hc please

Kitty Nap | Yandere Twisted Wonderland x Leopard Half-Fae Crewel Daughter Reader

Your father wouldn’t let you leave the house with a bikini in your bag, you're wearing a one-piece and bringing your protective pendant. "Darling if you want to sunbathe why don’t you do it on our sundeck? Or our private beach?" But above all else, you wouldn’t be sunbathing at Ramshackle. Have you seen the lighting over there? It's like always looking haunted even in the daytime. The point is: the light’s not good there! But do you know which dorms do have good lighting with sun perfect for your kitty-in-the-sun moments?:

Rook Hunt

Savannaclaw!

The hunter is always willing to stalk his prey

You just so happened to be staying near the dorm of said-prey

That’s all it is 

That’s what he says when you're sure you see the flash of a camera out of your peripheral vision

“I just love to see you embracing your fae side!”

“Of course you do…I’m sure you’d prefer I let you have your chase. Aren’t I right hunter?”

“Oh mon amour, you know me so well! But I have more interest in the prize rather than the chase”

He knows about it

and he’s delighted that he gets to witness the faint leopard prints on your thighs and shoulders

He adores the comfortability you’re displaying 

But he’s concerned because of it

Savannaclaw is filled with…possible prey

But he worries his amour is all too comfortable

So he’ll stay by your side as a guardian of sorts

Hunters are quite good at that no?

“Would you like me to rub you down…mon amour? With the sunscreen? Yes, of course!”

Jack Howl

Savaanaclaw

Already standing at your side to protect you

He smells you better without the extra clothes 

Its just an observation! Devoid of any emotion at all of course!

“I-i will guard you, while you lay here!”

“Thank you, Jack. I can trust you to make sure the motley curs stay looking only, right?”

“YES MA’AM!” 

“Good boy.” 

His wagging tail is a glorious fan

He does his job with due diligence

Focusing on the ogling Savvannaclaw students 

He keeps his mind off of your vulnerable position

Soft thighs crossing over one another

Those manicured hands applying an oily sheen of sun protection 

The way your skin just glows under the intense Savvanna heat

Not to mention the delicious raw scent of your sweat increasing as time continues

He tries to stave urges especially when he has such an important duty

But the moment you slip on your robe and make your way to Leona’s bathroom

He releases, sooner making a mess of himself than you

“Hah hah, (Y/n) hah I-i’ll escort you to your father! A-after we both have…cleaned ourselves off.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Heartslaybul

Call you genuisely mad but where better to sunbathe where its not too hot not too cold and all the dorm students are too busy to bother you

Of course there are hardly any places you could set up shop with the students either leaving for class or coming back

So why not the sweet spot in the maze that the dorm leader has special access to

“I-i can’t believe you’re doing something so-so indecent on Night Raven Campus!”

“Please Riddle, I would hardly consider improving relations with the Princess Academy indecent. Besides I can guarantee, you will not tattle-tail on me.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“This is the closest you’ve ever gotten to an unclothed woman.”

“W-what!? I-ah-well I never!” 

He willingly becomes your verbal punching bag 

If it means he gets to admire your glistening face 

While you tease him from the protection of your coutoure sunglasses

He’s making sure not alert his dormmembers

Claiming he must monitor you so that your not ‘destroying school property’

“An unlcothed woman?! That woman! She’s practically geared on destroying my calm…”

Carter Diamond

Heartslaybul

“I know a place! Its the best selfie sunbathing spot!” 

“I figured you would. Your timeline never fails.”

“Why thank you, bae! Now do you want me to bring (f/d) or the ice?”

You’re not doing this alone 

Even if you drop however many hints

He’s skipping just to cozy up with you under the sun

Posting every 1/3rd of a second with captions like

‘Oh my bae’s so sleepy #hottie’

or

‘You know she’s down bad when she’s taking your straws #baddie #mybaddie’ 

Funny because he’s the one who keeps mixing your drinks

Its unavoidable that Crewel will get word 

And the poor vicewarden will be slapped with sudden decreases in his grade

“Ah its fine. In the long run I got the chance of a lifetime! In the timeline of our marriage it’ll make a great anniversary tradition!”

Jamil Viper

Scarabia

Where better to feel the heat than in Scarabia!

He’s more than aware when you decide to choose the place

Kalim agrees to just about anything in a heartbeat

So as his loyal servant its his duty to clean up after him

And he begrudgingly gleefully brings you iced tea as you get your fill

Even better if he can convince Kalim to make you a little oasis 

So while the kids are at play 

He’ll fulfill anything you desire

“(Y/n), you look as though your absolutely burning in that. If you’d like something more freeing I can whip you something up real fast.”

“I appreciate that Jamil but I’m not exactly looking to incur the wrath of my father. More than that: whatever follows a Viper’s hungry gaze.”

“Oh? Didn’t you know? Their bite of course, now where would you like to take it?

He doesn’t hide his intentions with you

It makes it more fun anyway

But in all honesty he may not be able to handle more than the leopard patterns fading onto your exposed skin

“The sight might be enough for now but don’t doubt that I’ll be…waiting in the sands for you forever.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Coming to apologize to your sunbathing spot on campus may have been good for anyone else

But Sebek has a problem 

A problem that makes it hard for someone he’s wronged to give him the time of day 

Coming across you wherever but Diasomnia in his search for you

He screams the only thing that he can think of as his face alights with blood

“H-HARLOT!”

“Huh? YOU?! Ugh I didn’t want to deal with this today!”

While it was certainly a different feeling from soft touches in forgiveness it was certainly…something

Sebek was kept heaving by the pressure of your foot on his back while you continued to tighten the whip you had wrapped around his heated form

Even as you reject his struggled apology he can’t stop his heated reaction to the sight he gets as he awkwardly looks up

“I-I AM S-S-S–I APOLOGIZE!”

“Do you? I don’t think you’re begging hard enough!” 

“Aaaaagh~!”

When he returns to Diasomnia with red lines lining his face and hands accompanied by red ears and tightened pants he refuses to give an answer or at least one that would explain anything that had transpired

“Crewel-sama uh refused my apology Waka-sama…I-i am not sorry to have failed you!”

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

The Massage

When Aesop Sharp returns home to find his fiancée in bed with aching muscles from a long day of work, he's quick to offer his help. However, the situation takes a much more intimate turn, leaving both of them enjoying far more than just a little relief.

Big thanks to my dear friends @tea-withjamandbread and @dzajna for bearing with me while I wrote this beast, and providing their feedback and advice ❤️

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

[FULL NSFW PICTURE]

The Massage (9.8k)

tw: age difference (reader is an adult and has been for quite some time now), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex, might be cheesy

Aesop Sharp sighed with relief as he pulled off his coat and blazer, depositing both on the hanger by the door before freeing his feet and calves from the heavy leather boots, replacing them with the soft slippers he wore in the house. 

He knew his beloved was home, since the messenger bag she carried to work lay upon the bench in the cloakroom, but he currently couldn't hear a sound which would hint as to where she was. Perhaps she was out in the garden, he thought, she did like to rest there for a bit when she came home. Before beginning his search for his young fiancée, Aesop headed off into the ground floor bathroom in order to wash his hands and refresh himself a little.

Once there, he cast a quick cleaning charm on his clothes, swiftly ridding them of any traces of sweat or remains of any fumes from the potions brewed during his classes today that might've lingered. He splashed cool water on his face and let it air-dry. A few droplets still cooled him where they clung to his beard as he ran his fingers through his hair. Once he deemed himself presentable enough, he exited the bathroom and made his way through the dining room into the winter garden, and then out into the garden after putting on his outside shoes once more.

It was quite a nice afternoon, the air cool and crisp. The earth smelled of rain, the last remains of winter fading away and making way for spring to come. The sky was rather grey and sunless, but Aesop's mood was not at all soured by that. No, he instead inhaled more of the earthy scent, letting his eyes glide over the sizable garden. It looked quite different than it had when he still lived here by himself. There were more flowers in the flowerbeds, a little fire pit was added for the two of them to warm up on cool evenings spent outside, and a small shed was built to house his beloved’s owl. 

Aesop made his way around the house, only to discover his wife-to-be was nowhere to be seen. He went back inside, mindful not to make a mess with his damp and slightly muddy shoes. It wasn't too cold outside, but he nevertheless shivered a bit when the warmth of the dining room enveloped him once more.

"(F/N)? Are you home, love?" He called out softly, off-handedly making the kettle float from its place on the stove to the tap, filling itself up with water before going back to its original place, so that they could share a cup of tea once he found her.

"Here," came muffled from above him. The professor smiled and unhurriedly made his way upstairs, ascending the steps with an easy step. He had to admit he felt quite appreciative of the work he and his beloved did in the house since she officially moved in with him. The house was never once uncomfortable, of course, but following the lack of fairer sex in the home, not to mention the depression that settled over him after Ashley's death, the house grew a little... empty. Most of the original furniture from when he was a child remained there, but without loving care, the paint faded and chipped, the wood surfaces lost their shine, and some articles of furniture grew desperately outdated. 

When he still lived by himself and mostly just for himself, Aesop hardly cared. The few visits he had, mainly just from his mother, Dinah and Abraham, never once commented on the state of his home, and he was quite happy about it. However, when the young woman he couldn't wait to marry came to live with him, it was like he saw just how metaphorically grey the home had become. It didn't go well with the radiance of his sweetheart, of their love, and maybe of Aesop himself these days. 

So they made the acceptable investment of one shilling for a large muggle catalogue of furniture and got to work. Aesop had smiled to himself then - maybe he'd tell Matilda of this endeavour of theirs. After all, a lot of transfiguration had been involved. Maybe she could make a similar exercise for her students - this was definitely more useful than turning a porcupine into a pincushion, at least in his opinion. Not that he'd tell her that... It took more than a week, mostly because they both had full time occupations after all, and when he and (F/N) were finally done, they were more than a little glad the next day was a Sunday, their magical cores feeling drained. However, it really felt worth it. 

The house was once more perfectly warm and cosy, just like it was when Aesop had been a small boy, and then later when he and Dinah lived together. It once more held that comforting scent he could never quite put his finger on, and he felt the wear and tear of his teaching job melt away into comfort. The colours of fabrics, be it the sofas and armchairs, rugs, or perhaps some tapestry, were vibrant and warm, the wood of the tables, bookcases, and the wardrobes in the hallway once more shone and glistened with novelty. The rooms which were empty for long years, including Aesop's own childhood bedroom, became comfortable looking guest rooms for the time being. At least so until Aesop and (F/N) fully joined their hands in holy matrimony and embraced the idea of procreation. Aesop never once stopped feeling at home in the large house, but the way things were now, he felt genuinely happy every time he stepped over the threshold.

Finally, Aesop opened the door to his and (F/N)'s bedroom - it had more Ravenclaw colours than he'd personally seek out normally, but the end result certainly made for a very comfortable space. His beloved certainly seemed to think so, given she was lying on the spacious bed on her stomach, her arms idly by her sides and her face buried into the pillow. Aesop grinned, as he looked around. He could see the woman's outer, slightly dirt-stained clothing hanging from one of the chairs in the room. 

He chuckled to himself and slowly walked to her side of the bed. Noiselessly, he kneeled on the floor, his face close to her head. Feeling his presence, his fiancée's head finally turned, and a pair of large tired eyes met his own. 

"Hello," she murmured hoarsely, but nevertheless offered her lips to him. Aesop didn't waste a single second, he chased her mouth in a long, sweet kiss, his right hand gently stroking the woman's back and waist. 

"How was your day, my sweet?" Aesop asked, though he could very much see her day had been difficult and strenuous. She merely groaned in return, and stayed silent for a few minutes, during which Aesop continued to stroke her back and shoulders gently. "Well," she spoke finally, "if you ever feel like trying to subdue a frightened unicorn stallion without using a light stupefy at first, I can tell you it's not a good idea... I took some Skele-Gro and Wiggenweld, of course, so I can proudly say my arm and my ribs are, once more, fully intact, but my muscles are still killing me..."

A small click left the professor's lips, his concern for his sweetheart's well being obvious. Nevertheless, he didn't say anything for several moments. But then: "Do you think you could lift your arms for me, my dear? I want to try and help you..." She observed him with a curious expression, but did as she was told, seemingly with great difficulty. 

Aesop's large warm hands slipped under the hem of her blouse and pulled her chemise out of her drawers. He then carefully slid the soft materials up her body, over her head, and off her arms. He took in the sight she made momentarily - her hair was spread around her head like a halo, and her soft breasts were squished against the mattress in a rather lovely fashion. However, he shook his head then - now was the time to make his sweetheart feel better. His hand once more glided over the pale expanse of her back before it retracted and the professor made way to his side of the bed. After safely placing his wand upon his bedside table, he reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a small glass jar containing dark pink ointment. 

He rolled up his shirt sleeves, and, without further ado, climbed atop the bed, and then carefully straddled his sweetheart's body, until he was partially sitting on her pert bottom. She huffed a little when she felt the extra weight on her bum, though it was not so much a huff of pain or discomfort, as it was one of confusion. "What are you up to, Ace?" she questioned, struggling to turn her head further to be able to look at him. Aesop only smiled: "Just wait. I promise it'll feel nice."

He took the cork out of the jar, and reached two fingers inside. It was one of his experimental brews, back when he was still looking for a cure for his leg. This particular ointment made muscles loosen up, and gave off a very pleasant warmth when rubbed into the skin. Which is exactly what Aesop did, once he deemed the amount of ointment on his fingers acceptable. 

It was cool upon the young woman's skin at first, and she hissed at the feeling. However, less than a minute later, she was pretty much melting under Aesop's strong and steady hands. The professor himself was very careful in his application of the ointment at first, but grew a little firmer once he felt the kinks in his fiancée's back begin to loosen up. Soon he was fully massaging her slight shoulders and back, and thirstily drank in the sweet sounds that left her lips, as well as the flush that coloured her cheeks. 

His movements caused his whole body to rock against her slowly, but he barely paid any mind to the pleasant friction of the soft flesh of her behind against his stiffening shaft. That is, until he felt the young woman purposefully roll her hips in a way that made the sensations way more pronounced. Aesop stilled in his movements, his breathing considerably heavier than it had been a few minutes ago.

"Sweetheart," he said gently, "as much as I’d like to, the last thing I want to do is hurt you more than you're already hurting..." The young woman groaned softly and further wiggled her bottom to the best of her abilities, given the fact Aesop was still partially sitting upon it. "It does not hurt that bad anymore..." she tried to protest, "besides, we can go really slow..."

Aesop couldn't hold back a small chuckle as he stared at his fiancée’s back in awe.

He lowered his upper body until his mouth was right next to her ear, his hands bracing his weight on each side of her head: "Really slow, hm?" he purred, making her shiver slightly. He rocked his hips against her a few times, slowly and passionately. 

"This slow?" he asked, his voice growing lower. (F/N) didn't answer. Aesop then raised himself somewhat, and when he was positive he wouldn't lose his balance and collapse directly onto her, his hands left their previous position and closed around her hips instead, pulling them up from the bed. His own then ground into her, hard and excruciatingly slow, making the woman hyper aware that he was rock hard now: "or even slower, like so?"

She groaned again, her hands that were previously just lying idly by her sides now gripping at the sheets in obvious need. "A-Ace, please... Please, stop teasing, I really want this. I want you... And besides, you know nothing makes sore muscles relax quite as much as some nice lovemaking..." Once again, the professor snickered, even lower than before, still grinding his clothed erection against her. "You Ravenclaws," he said softly, "finding logic in everything... Very well then. But you'll tell me the moment something hurts too much, alright?"

The young woman strained her head, and actually braced her own hands next to her in order to raise herself up slightly and look at him better. She indeed seemed much less miserable than she did when he originally walked in, and instead now looked like a woman starved. 

Oh, how could he ever resist her? Without another word, Aesop once more lowered himself, but this time to connect their mouths in a hot, passionate kiss. 

One of his hands gently wrapped around her throat, neither pushing nor squeezing, simply holding her there, enjoying the feeling of her quickened heartbeat below his fingertips as well as the knowledge of how entirely she trusted him. His hips kept rutting against her more rhythmically now, and it made him release small short hums of desire into their kiss, his tongue cheekily prodding and teasing at her own, only to dart back so that he could gently nip at her lower lip. 

Her own hand stopped pawing at the now rather ruffled sheets around her, and instead moved down to stroke his knee, which was about the only part of him she could reach without too much discomfort. Well, that just wouldn’t do, Aesop decided. But still, he gently ended the kiss, and motioned for his beloved to lower herself down again. Once she did, he covered her body with his own, his chest flush against her warm back, and his lips bestowing butterfly kisses against the nape of her neck and all the way to her ear. 

“Are you completely certain?” he asked once more, but the grin that appeared on her face revealed her mind was quite made up. “Unless you plan to literally bend me in half, or restrain me into some extra ridiculous position, it is my firm belief that I’ll be just fine,” she replied, looking at him through her eyelashes, “but even if you do, I will survive. I took a day off tomorrow - well, not accurate - Ellie made me take the day off. She said I either stay home, or I’d be cleaning undersides of Flobberworms tomorrow, because she’s not letting me get trampled over twice in two days.” 

“Hm, remind me to send her flowers,” Aesop murmured, only just resisting the urge to ask whether his fiancée ever thought about a different occupation. It was a silly thought, of course. She loved her job and was completely brilliant at it, and the last thing Aesop wanted was to limit her in any way, but any man who loved his woman half like Aesop loved (F/N) would have very much preferred knowing his beloved was safe. 

He shook his head. Though there have been, and will undoubtedly be scuffs and scratches, and bruises and pulled muscles, (F/N) was a tough woman. Not two armoured mountain trolls and countless goblins attacking at once were able to put her down when she was just a student, and he doubted one stupid horned horse could do the job now that she was a bit older and much more experienced. 

“Aesop,” she said with a small hint of impatience, but mostly a healthy dose of teasing, “should I feel offended you’ve still got enough blood in your brain to think despite me trying to do my best here to make it all go someplace entirely else?”

Aesop’s quiet laughter rang through the room. His arms pushed until they were tightly nestled under and around her waist, and his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. She too released a little giggle, with Aesop unsure whether it was because of the combined sensation of the small scratch of his beard and the tickle of his hair on her soft skin, or just him showering her with his affections like this.

When she wiggled her bum again, Aesop was reminded of his desire, and found he had not wilted in the slightest during his brief moment of thinking. Carefully, he rolled to the side, ridding her of his weight on her back. No sooner than he’d done so did he move to turn her to face him, and their lips connected in another heated kiss. Thin fingers slipped into his hair, and one of her long legs found its rightful place over his hip. The warm skin of her bare upper body pressed against his own chest, and he was hyper aware of her softness and the gentle curves of her bosom despite the offensive fabric of his own garment separating them still.

As if on cue his fiancée pulled back slightly, her nose still gently bumping into his own. “Like always,” she whispered, and Aesop hungrily drank in the hotness of her breath, “you are wearing way too many clothes, Ace.”

The professor was very nearly ready to grab his wand from the nightstand and wave it in the air to immediately rid them of the remainder of their clothes, but at the same time didn’t for the world want this ever increasing thrum of arousal and anticipation to end. 

The act of lovemaking itself was always lovely; both of them always went above and beyond to ensure their partner reached their peak in the most pleasurable way possible. However, Aesop knew they were also united in their enjoyment of foreplay, in the intimacy of once more, like so many times before, succumbing to one another’s embrace, to their most natural form, the sweetness of the other’s lips, and then finally the joy of their bodies uniting into one.

And so, quite unhurriedly, he looked deep into his beloved's eyes and pulled at his tie until it slipped from its knot and came loosely off. The single look was entirely enough to get her to understand, and she too wasn’t entirely urgent when her fingers left his hair in order to pluck his waistcoat buttons free from their holes. 

Still, their clothes soon littered the floor of their bedroom, and the two of them were left in just their drawers. A low moan was released against the young woman’s tongue as her slight hand closed around the stiff member that was tenting Aesop’s underwear, and she gave him a few gentle strokes through the thin fabric. Her mouth watered at the feel of him, the organ hot and heavy in her hand and throbbing under her attention.

However, after she pulled a few more pleasurable sighs out of him, Aesop decided that two could play that game. 

And so he let his mouth slide down slowly, kissing and biting at her neck, her pulse point and collarbones, soothing each of the harder nips with gentle licks of his tongue, his hand kneading the flesh of her pert buttocks appreciatively. And then, finally, when his lips reached her left nipple, his hand dipped in below the hem of her drawers, squeezed the soft bum, then made its way to the other side, long fingers sneaking their way towards her damp nether lips.

His beloved sighed, her head dropping to the pillow, and her hand momentarily ceasing its sweet torment of him at the sensation of the work-hardened tips of Aesop’s fingers dragging over her swelling lovebud and seam.

Quite soon however, she recovered enough to copy him. Aesop gasped lightly against the pink areola of her breast when he felt the gentle scratch of her nails drag from his belly button down through the dark hair of his happy trail, her hand soon also plunging into the tight confines of his cotton breeches to begin touching him fully.

The couple gently and unhurriedly fondled one another as much as their current position would allow them, with Aesop worrying at his fiancée’s nipples using his mouth while her free hand tugged at his hair, sending gooseflesh down his neck and back, and little electric sparks into his groin, which continued thrumming under her delicious caresses. He grinned when a particularly mean bite resulted in her hand in his hair tightening to the point of light pain, and she motioned for him to move up again. The professor did so without a word, immediately chasing her mouth in another kiss, less coordinated than the previous ones.

A smug smile spread on his face when they pulled away for breath. How he adored working her up like this - his beloved always seemed to have this detached sort of elegance about her, even after she just sent some wayward group of ruffians packing, twigs in her hair from leaping across the ground and dirt staining her cheeks. There was absolutely nothing detached about her now... Holding her gaze, he pulled his hand free from her drawers and brought it to his lips. His fingers glistened with her arousal visibly, and the professor made a show of slowly pushing each of them into his mouth to suck on them, closing his eyes and humming at her taste like she was a fine meal.

Suddenly, his teeth flashed as an idea popped to his head. The young woman gasped when she was suddenly pushed on her back and pulled lower on the bed, until Aesop was able to move to kneel behind her. His strong hands moved to once more stroke and squeeze at her soft breasts while he looked upside down on her face, his knees on each side of her head. 

“This alright?” he asked quietly, his fingertips teasing at her ribs. She needn’t ask what he had in mind exactly, knowing all too well where a position like this might go. She felt herself dampen further with anticipation. Her hands reached up, and Aesop took them in his, shuffling down a bit to be able to kiss her once more before he began his descent down her body.

This time, he only spent a short while teasing her breasts and teats with his mouth before moving lower, his tongue gliding around the pale skin of her stomach and circling her belly button. Finally he reached the hem of her drawers, and his beloved lifted her bottom off the bed a bit, so that he was able to push them down her legs. The soft fabric bunched just past her knees, and the young woman used one of her feet to take them fully off, clearing the path for Aesop and his increasingly hungrier stare.

The teacher braced himself on one hand next to her left hip, and used the free one to spread her legs further, which made his fiancée shiver at the cool air lapping at her heated skin. Bending his head down, Aesop flashed one more grin at the young woman, before he finally lowered down to bury his head between her milky thighs.

A small groan was forced out of (F/N)’s mouth when his mouth immediately found her swollen clitoris and began sucking at it fervently, his strong arms curling around her limbs to hold them perfectly in place. The very view of him from this angle was maddeningly erotic, and when she turned her head up, she found she was perfectly level with the tent in his pants. There was already a damp little spot forming where his tip was, and the young woman decided that she made him wait long enough.

The large erection bumped her nose as it sprung out from the cottony confines upon her pushing the hem down, and her mouth watered further at his heady musky scent. She turned her head further, until his dark pink glans brushed against her lips, prompting the professor to release a harsh breath against her folds. The young woman giggled even as another wave of arousal rolled through her, and proceeded to toy with the tip using her mouth, suckling on it and rolling it around, prompting more lovely reactions from the professor.

Teasing little licks soon turned into proper pleasure when Aesop began using one of his hands to gently finger his beloved, while still worrying at her lovebud deliciously. The young woman in turn opened her mouth and carefully covered her teeth with her lips before accepting his hard cock inside, slowly bobbing her head up and down and taking him further with each move. Her fingers kneaded and teased at his heavy testicles, occasionally prodding at that one spot behind them that she knew made him see stars when she pressed down on it.

The increased stimuli sent small shivers through the teacher’s strong frame, and he unknowingly began thrusting his hips, shallowly at first, but then increasing in intensity, just like his mouth and hand did on his fiancée’s need. Their groans and gasps were muffled by the other’s skin, free hands were grasping at whichever part they could reach, hips, thighs, bottoms, fingertips leaving little red spots in their wake. The flank of (F/N)’s leg bore the perfect imprint of the potions master’s palm, while the woman herself took a small break from swallowing around the thick prick in her mouth in order to deliver a sharp bite at Aesop’s inner thigh. His strangled ‘Oh, fuck’ spoken against her drenched core was music to her ears.

Aesop adored being marked by her in the throes of passion, be it a bite on his neck, a couple of bruises on his hips where her toned legs squeezed him, or the sweet sting on his back where her fingernails dug into it. 

His tongue thrusted into her opening along with his fingers, while his thumb now rhythmically rubbed nonsensical patterns against her little pink pearl. Aesop felt his release approaching rapidly under her incredibly intoxicating touch, but refused to let himself succumb to the sweet pull of no doubt brilliant orgasm before she tumbled down that ravine herself. And so, using the very few bits of self control he had left, he lifted his hips up and his member out of her brilliant mouth.

Now, the young woman tried to protest at first, her arms wrapping around his hips in an attempt to pull him back, but a small strategic bite at her folds coupled with a prod of his fingers to the little bundle of nerves deep within her made her arms lose their strength, and her back to arch against the mattress. He sped up his ministrations further, moaning quietly at the feeling of her climax approaching and at the sounds that now poured out of her mouth freely. He couldn’t see her currently, but he imagined her hands fisting the sheets below and her face twisting in pleasure.

Finally, with a cry she came undone underneath him, Aesop hungrily lapping up everything that she could give him. As she writhed with the sensations, one of her hands made its way to his hair, and she closed it around a few strands, not exactly pulling, but rather just hanging on while her orgasm shook through her. Aesop slowly rose when a little whine told him she needed a break from his continuous worship, and he wasted no time, kneeling back on the bed and pulling her somewhat into his hold until he was able to close his arms around her waist. He bent his head to kiss a trail from her neck to her jaw, and then finally to her lips. 

He couldn't help but smile at the image of her red face, the sweat running down her forehead, and the blissed out expression when he pulled back from the positively filthy kiss.

“I hope that was to your liking?” he asked cheekily, his forefinger taking to drawing little patterns over her front, connecting the various freckles and moles on her chest and stomach. (F/N) snorted unabashedly, her breathing still laboured. “As you can clearly see, I hated it,” she quipped right back, her own hand coming to lay hotly on his thigh. She turned her head a little in a clear invitation for him to kiss her again, and Aesop didn't have to be asked twice.

After a few more minutes of exchanging languid kisses, she separated their mouths and whispered: “Although I am cross with you - while you made me finish, you didn’t let me finish.” 

She looked awfully proud at the choice of her words, but Aesop merely chuckled: “And would you like me to let you finish, or shall I take you and we can make each other finish together?” An adorable pout of mock consideration appeared on her face and her eyes closed as she still rode on the gentle waves of afterglow. 

Finally, her eyes sought out his own: “I say - why not both? Like I said, I’ve got a free day tomorrow. And, if I’m not wrong, your first class is at eleven o’clock, so that gives us plenty of time to have a little rest before you can go again, after that a nice bath, a bite to eat, and plenty of sleep still.” 

Aesop shook his head slightly as another chuckle rolled through him. Still, he reached to gently caress her heated cheek, looking down at her with endless affection: “And you tell me I’m incorrigible, you little minx.” His beloved returned his smile: “Oh, you are. But I never claimed not to be incorrigible myself, did I?”

Aesop’s eyes shone with happiness and love as he watched the face he grew to adore so much, her cheeks still flushed and a few strands of her hair sticking to her forehead. The professor used his finger to push them to the side. The young woman used her hands to brace herself somewhat, and turned to steal another kiss. Truth be told, the angle was a bit awkward, but she was determined to make it work. 

Aesop suddenly groaned into their kiss, his hand closing tighter where it was squeezing her hip, and he gave a shaky breath. 

As she turned, his sweetheart once more took hold of his leaking cock, tugging at it rhythmically and driving him to his brink steadily. Knowing what she wanted, Aesop helped move her down on the bed again, his knees spreading wider where he was kneeling, and her head immediately arching back. She was smiling even as she observed him from her upside down angle, and licked her lips when his throbbing shaft appeared inches away from her face.

Aesop was breathing hard as he stroked himself a few times to take the edge off, and watched with a rapturous expression as she accepted him rubbing the glans across her swollen lips after a clear droplet of precum seeped out. 

Without further ado, he used his finger to motion for her to open up, and once she did, he pushed the hard member into her waiting mouth again. A hum from her and a groan from him cut through the silence of the room as she enveloped him in her hot, wet heat, her cheeks hollowing out when she started to suck.

Aesop was mindful at first, his hips moving slowly and shallowly, despite his sweetheart not showing any sort of discomfort with having her mouth and throat plundered by him. Still, even though she became quite… experienced in this act since they were first intimate together, he always started off carefully - not that he ever tried himself, but he imagined having something so large in one’s mouth must be a bit difficult.

However, it would appear the young woman didn’t appreciate his carefulness all that much, for she slowly pulled her mouth off of him. “I won’t break, you know. Neither will I choke or bite your family jewel off.” she said with a challenging little grin. Aesop couldn’t help but smile right back at her. “I know,” he said quietly, “but just… just let me know if it gets too much, alright? Maybe, I don’t know, slap my thigh three times.”

She only rolled her eyes at him with another grin, before positioning herself to take him in her mouth again.

This time both of the potions master’s hands found her cheeks and jaw, and carefully closed around them. With a sharp thrust, his entire length disappeared in her mouth, and a quiet curse left his own. After a few more movements of his hips, he found a rhythm, quite faster than the one before.

He used his hold of her head to keep her in place while he fucked her throat, the the young woman’s little gasps and groans making sweet vibrations go through his shaft, and were soon making him lose himself. He watched with endless fascination as the skin of her throat grew slightly more taut each time he pushed himself deep inside, as little drizzles of drool soon began to leave her lips where they were closed around the thick organ, and how she rubbed her thighs against each other in an attempt to bring herself some friction.

He spread his legs even wider, his breathing hard and laboured, and his hold on her head increasing along with the speed of his movements. 

His eyes closed momentarily as he was getting overwhelmed at the feeling, and nearing ever closer to that sweet release. The suction of her mouth, of the way her tongue lapped at him as best as it could given the position, the jolt of pleasure every time she swallowed around him, his tightening bollocks slapping against her face with every thrust, oh, Aesop knew was going to come hard.

It was quickly becoming too much. The professor’s member was now constantly weeping out in his fiancée’s throat, the coil in his stomach was becoming tighter, burning hot and bright like iron in a forge, his breathing came out in short bursts, and a litany of blissful sounds was leaving his mouth. His brain finally gave out, and he barely noticed his own hands leaving her face. Still, she stayed in her place, her own hands reaching up to grab at his hips, her fingernails digging into the flesh there as she hung on. 

One of the teacher’s hands closed around her breast, kneading it roughly, while the other carefully covered her throat. He could almost feel it where he fucked her, he imagined he could feel his cock stretching her neck, her Adam’s apple bouncing each time she swallowed around him. 

“Hnng, b-bloody hell, (F/N),” Aesop managed to grit out before another groan left his lips, and his eyes rolled back, “Bloody hell, I’m so close. I’m so close, sweetheart…”

His hips began staggering, and the teacher felt the build up of sensation spreading through his entire body. His muscles were tensing up, and his cock was throbbing desperately. The fingers on his hips dug in deeper, the sting of the fingernails doing nothing but pushing him further, further towards that edge. He rutted into her incredible mouth, his own dry and open, sounds of pleasure falling out freely. 

“Oh, Merlin, I’m coming. Oh! Mhm!” Aesop’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he bit his lower lip harshly when the coil in his lower belly snapped, and the pleasure exploded within him. His prick emptied into her throat in long spurts, and soon his body started trembling slightly under the immense gratification. He then sat back quickly and pulled himself out of her mouth, so that the last two ropes of pearly white cum landed on her dark pink lips and spit-damp chin.

Aesop fell down on his arse, nearly collapsing right into the pillows behind him, breathing hard. The young woman before him was in a fairly similar state to him. He heard her swallow a few times, her own breathing quick and laboured. The professor used the last bits of his strength to lie down on the bed next to her. His heart still beat louder and faster than a wardrum, and his hands were still shaking a little.

Turning his head, he saw his sweetheart’s eyes were closed, her face relaxed, and her lips spread into a content smile. The product of his pleasure still clung to her skin, and Aesop found the sight incredibly erotic, his just spent shaft twitching ever so slightly with residue arousal. He turned on his side to face her, and threw one arm and leg over her heated form in as much of an embrace as he was able to execute at the moment.

They spent several minutes like this, bodies slowly calming and cooling down, heartbeats returning to normal, brains regaining control of their higher functions once more. Finally, Aesop summoned a cool wet cloth using his hand, once he actually felt all of his fingers again. He propped his head up on his other hand, and gently got his fiancée’s attention by pressing a small kiss against her cheek. 

Her eyes opened, and the look she fixed him with was enough to make his heart quicken up again. 

He never quite got used to the way she looked at him after they just indulged in the pleasure of each other’s arms, no matter how they went about it. Her gaze was open and sincere, filled with trust, and with so much love and happiness. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

Aesop never truly realised that his own expression was the perfect mirror of hers.

The teacher brought the hand holding the cloth up, and gently dabbed at the drying seed on her lip and chin, prompting her smile to widen further. “I like it when you do that,” she whispered, as if worried she could ruin the atmosphere that settled between them had she spoken any louder. “Do what?” Aesop spoke, just as quietly, a sly little grin on his face “clean up my mess?” 

There was a mischievous sparkle to her eyes. “Actually, I like it when you create it… You’re always such a perfect gentleman, but I know it drives you crazy to mark me like this. Drives me crazy too, when you lose control like that…” she admitted to him, her smile still present.

“Well,” the professor chuckled, tossing the cloth away after his young sweetheart’s face was, save for some perspiration, once again pristine, “I can hardly deny it, can I…” He chased her lips in a kiss, finally embracing her fully, carefully climbing to lie atop her again. His hand caressed her cheek, and Aesop checked her gaze for any sort of discomfort. He was relieved to find none.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked still, “Are you sure you’ll be alright for a second round?” Her pearly white teeth flashed in the afternoon light of their bedroom, and her eyes once again took on that slightly mischievous look: “Oh, I’ll be up for round two the moment you are up for it.” 

Aesop chuckled at her words, his hands moving down to teasingly squeeze at her waist, their bodies flush against each other. He happily settled where he was, his face buried into the crook of her neck, her hands gently brushing through his hair and separating the tangles that formed there during their activity. “Mhmm…” he murmured, his voice low. He again reminded the young woman of a severely overgrown purring cat, “give me a while. Don’t forget I’m no spring chicken.” His words were met with another chuckle, and one of the hands slipped away from his hair to stroke his cheek instead.

“You know,” she said airily, an amused expression in her twinkling eyes, “for you being, by your own words, ‘no spring chicken’, you’ve got enough stamina for at least two or three spring chickens…” Aesop wasn’t able to hold back a snort at her words, and squeezed her again. Slowly, he raised himself up to be able to look at her, once more propping his head on his hand.

He might not ever get fully used to seeing that look of hers, but he got so very used to everything else. To their closeness, both physical and emotional, to their tender banter, their own little inside jokes. And to the two of them seeing the other completely utterly dishevelled like they were now, naked and sweaty with messy hair, and it feeling so natural, so familiar and comfortable. And yet he couldn’t stop being so fascinated, so absolutely taken with the sight of her every day.

He shook his head with a smile.

“You know, we Aurors have something of a… reputation in this regard,” he offered, still grinning. That prompted a curious gleam to her eyes, even though they were currently softened by tenderness. “Oh? And it applies to the former Aurors as well?” Aesop’s other hand gently slid down her body, caressing her wherever he could reach. “If they keep themselves in shape, surely. And I’d been staying in shape for a while now… However, some Aurors tend to get a little… sloppy…” The young woman sucked in a breath when his hand squeezed between their bodies, his fingers teasing at her inner thigh, “wild… Which can be pleasant, certainly… However,” he continued, his fingers getting closer to their prize, “I hear that when combined with precision… the sort of precision potioneers, for example, have…”

Her eyes fluttered when he reached her core, once more dampening under his skillful touch, “I hear it can get even better…”

And with that, his mouth latched onto hers in another searing kiss.

His hand began to move at the same pace as his mouth and tongue, slow but intense, rekindling in her the fire he already made explode once today while his own body recovered. 

Indeed, his precision and attention to detail was something the young woman appreciated deeply. He knew exactly how to touch her when he wanted her to come apart in his hands within mere minutes, thighs shaking and lungs sore from moans. Or he could slowly break her apart, piece by piece, coaxing little whimpers out of her while her fingernails broke the skin of his back. He could edge her until she begged him to let her come, and he could make those silky soft walls flutter and contract around him near continuously, the poor girl struggling to stay conscious once he was finally done with her.

As he very gently fondled her lovebud and opening, his mouth moving to her neck instead, the professor considered how he should bring his fiancée to the breaking point tonight. Finally, he decided that, seeing as he didn’t want to add to her soreness, and that they still had a few things to do before they ultimately retired to the sheets to sleep, he would go easier on her today. Not that going easier ever meant worse, of course. 

And so, Aesop carefully moved down to once again lie beside her, and then helped her turn so that her back was flush with his chest. Slowly the couple fitted against each other until they were comfortable and Aesop had access to tease his beloved some more before he could fully take her. His other arm became her makeshift pillow, and the girl wasted no time, turning her head to seek his lips. 

Several ardent kisses and hot sighs against his mouth later, as Aesop’s fingers explored her plush depths as if it were their first time again, he felt his shaft stir and slowly begin to fill up once more. The heady feeling of desire seeped into his core again, and made him too release a shaky breath against his beloved’s swollen lips. He savoured the feeling of her hand once more messing up his hair, quite addicted to the sensation. As their kiss drew to a close, Aesop instead dragged his nose against her cheeks and jaw, and her fingers disentangled from his hair, her palm going to stroke a line over his waist and hip, and even strayed to caress his buttock, a little smile appearing on (F/N)’s face.

“Stamina and precision, indeed,” she teased, opening her eyes momentarily to look at him. Aesop replied by curling his fingers within her and prodding at the bundle of nerves deep inside, making her throw her head back against his shoulder. A low chuckle left the professor’s lips, and he ground his hips against hers, his stiffening prick bumping against her bum. “When there’s a good motivation,” he purred into her ear, then started nibbling on the sensitive skin below, spreading his fingers inside her in preparation. It wasn’t as needed these days, but Aesop still preferred to take his time rather than risk accidentally hurting her.

When she once more threw her head back and moaned loudly, Aesop chuckled further, and finally pulled his fingers away and licked them clean. He then noiselessly positioned himself at her entrance, and sought out her gaze. The professor looked deep into his beloved’s eyes as he took hold of her hand, bringing it close to his face. “The best motivation there is,” he whispered.

The ring, that once belonged to his grandmother, sparkled and shone on (F/N)’s elegant hand, the physical proof that she gave him her yes. Still looking into her eyes, Aesop slowly brought her hand even closer, until he was able to press a kiss against her ring finger, right above the ring itself. His hips snapped forward, and he filled the young woman to the brim in a single deep thrust, forcing their shared gaze to separate as their eyes fluttered.

He remained unmoving for several seconds, enjoying the feeling of being once more completely sheathed within her, the warm depths enveloping him perfectly. His fiancée breathed slowly, adjusting to his length inside. Aesop's head leaned forward again, and he hid his face into the crook of her neck, her hand still clasped tightly in his. He rocked his hips shallowly several times, looking for an angle that brought the most pleasure to both of them while the young woman hummed happily, her own head coming to rest upon his arm.

They set a slow, unhurried rhythm at first, (F/N) answering Aesop's slow deep thrusts by rolling her hips in time. His mouth began administering small kisses and gentle bites to the warm skin of her neck, his own cheeks feeling hot as he made love to his beloved.

He had to put some effort into raising himself up when her arm curled around his shoulders and neck, but he managed. Their eyes connected once more, and Aesop was again absolutely in awe of her.

She truly looked ethereally beautiful like this, hair messy and face hot, eyes dilated and so sincere. And while months separated them from their wedding, from the day when they would unite officially, bind themselves to one another, as Aesop's gaze melted into her own, he once more realised something he had known for a few years now.

She was his. And he was hers.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, and how could the professor ever refuse her.

His mouth moulded against her own, sweetly, ardently. (F/N) hungrily drank from his lips, tongue lapping at their seam and seeking out his own tongue to engage it in a sensual dance, one into which Aesop readily gave in. His hips snapped suddenly, prompting a gasp from his sweetheart, one that let him take control of their kiss, and he began plundering her mouth in earnest, the rhythm of his hips increasing in speed.

After a while, neither were able to keep up with the kiss much, their breaths becoming shorter and more laboured, their heartbeats growing swifter, their mouths moving against the other’s with little coordination. Aesop shifted, letting go of her hand in order to take hold of her leg, moving it a little forward for easier access, wanting to penetrate her even deeper. His fingers then closed around her hip, and he used the leverage to deliver harder, more intense thrusts. Soon, he was rewarded for his efforts when the young woman went taut against him again, a choked gasp on her kiss-swollen lips, her breath hot on Aesop’s own.

She too moved, removing her arm from around his shoulders and twisting her upper body so that she was lying on her back a bit more and didn’t have to turn her head quite as much to be able to face him. Aesop seized the opportunity to administer another messy kiss to her mouth, while the arm below her head bent at the elbow and his hand closed around her breast again, gently squeezing the soft flesh.

“Oh, Aesop…” she whined breathlessly when he ended the kiss only to lick a long stripe starting at her neck, going over her chin, only for his tongue to shortly plunge back into her mouth in a display of pure, intoxicating decadence. 

Soon the room filled with the sounds of their fervent lovemaking, soft sighs and gasps turning into short moans, their bodies, damp from their efforts, sliding against each other sweetly and with practised ease. Aesop’s mouth began to worry at her jaw and neck, and moved even lower. His own groans of bliss were muffled by her soft skin, the vibrations seemingly travelling directly to her core and making her fall apart in his strong arms. 

After a particularly hard thrust in that one perfect angle, one that made her entire body give a shudder, the young woman felt the burning coil of an upcoming release materialise in her core out of nowhere, her head falling back onto the pillows and Aesop’s bicep. The potions master, who had been nibbling on her collarbone, planting small marks and bruises along its length, chuckled, which prompted another wave of pleasurable vibrations to run through her, setting her nerve endings ablaze and pushing her further toward that edge.

He could feel her peak approaching, her breathing becoming uneven, her thighs beginning to tremble as he continued moving at the same angle as before. He wasn’t far behind by any means, but felt confident that he’d be able to hold off until he brought her her pleasure. That is, until she cried out for him and squeezed him within her in a vice grip following a particularly hard bite to her neck and a pinch of his fingers to her teat: “Ace! Aesop, p-please, don’t s-stop!” Her walls were quivering around his leaking prick, her hands grabbing for whichever part of him they could reach. Her sounds were pushing to his own climax much faster than he’d anticipated. He rose a bit, a sense of urgency in his voice as he whispered hotly into her ear.

“I-I’m almost there, sweetheart… Come on, c-come for me, love. ”

“Aesop-!”

Her back arched and her toes curled as the coil within her snapped, as if a bolt of lighting suddenly struck her. Aesop groaned at the feeling of her walls closing so, so bloody tight around him. Her body was quivering under the pleasure he brought her, her chest rose and fell hurriedly as she sucked in mouthfuls of air, and she was so amazingly overwhelmed by the sensations.

He let her ride out her orgasm, his rhythm becoming slow and deep, rutting against that bundle of nerves deep inside her as she still convulsed and contracted around him, her head thrown back. Only when her bliss began to ever so slightly subside did he wrap his arms around her waist, holding her firmly in place, and sped up his movements once more. He truly was not far behind her, he could feel his bollocks drawing up, and the pressure in his lower belly increasing with every move. His mouth was inches away from her ear, so she heard every single sound that fell from his lips as he pounded away into her, the muscles in his legs straining and his cock becoming nearly painfully hard as he chased his own climax.

“Mhmm, f-fuck-” he groaned 

He was certain he was squeezing her too tight now, but she didn’t show a single sign of discomfort, her head still lolling on the mattress, sweet little whines pouring out of her mouth, her velvety depths still pulsating around him, beckoning him to join her in her pleasure. 

Oh, he would.

He tried to hold it, at least for a few seconds, edging himself, but then one, two, three hard thrusts, and he pretty much exploded. 

Aesop moaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull, and his arms squeezing the poor girl even tighter, as his cock spilled inside her in several bursts, his hotness flooding her plush depths completely. His hips kept rocking into hers, as if on their own accord while the professor lost himself in the gratification, his body and head suddenly feeling so heavy, so comfortably tired. 

Finally his movements drew to a close, his head dropped and he remained where he was, breathing hard, completely high on the endorphins flooding his brain.

A long, content sigh was released somewhere next to his head, and a soft hand caressed his cheek. His head was resting partly on her chest, partly on her neck, his arms were still enveloping her tightly, his softening shaft was still nestled inside her. Aesop would’ve gladly stayed just like this, but as his head cleared of the hot, heady fog of lovemaking, he realised that this position wasn’t probably doing anything for her back, and he rolled off next to her.

To his great pleasure, (F/N) immediately turned around and snuggled into him, seeking his warmth and his love.

As they lay together, satisfied and spent, the two lovers took a moment to just close their eyes and rest. 

“Are you alright, my sweet?” Aesop asked, still breathless, only able to open eye for the time being, “I haven’t hurt you any more?” Instead of an answer, what he got was an even fuller armful of his fiancée, one of her hands coming to run through the hair on his chest, damp with sweat. Finally, she spoke: “You worry entirely too much, Ace.”

While a shared bath was still on the schedule before they’d go to sleep, a wandless Scourging charm was used for the time being, just to remove the discomfort of sweat and other bodily fluids drying up on their skin. 

The potions master took comfort in the familiar soft scent of her hair, and his arms, while slightly weakened by the sweet afterglow, still had strength enough to hold his fiancée exactly where she was: Exactly where she belonged. Not that she minded, of course, there was no place on earth as safe and comforting as right there with this man.

However, (F/N) had to admit the difficult and strenuous day followed by the couples’ only slightly less strenuous but just as intense activities left her feeling rather ravenous. So much so that even the picture of something as bland as oat porridge left her nearly salivating.

So, she took a deep breath and gathered all of her strength, and made an honest attempt to wiggle out of the professor’s strong hold. And, of course, he did not budge one bit. Another attempt - fruitless again. Aesop murmured unhappily, obviously less than thrilled about the very prospect of releasing her.

“Not ready to let you go yet,” he confirmed her suspicions. The young woman simply rolled her eyes good-naturedly, her own hands coming to caress at whichever part they could reach. “Come now, Ace,” she reasoned, “neither of us ate. I haven’t since lunch - something I’m quite happy about, since otherwise I surely would've lost whatever I ate in a most unpleasant way - and I doubt you had anything other than tea and biscuits since your own lunch.”

Aesop grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, making his young fiancée chuckle: “What was that, dear?” The professor only wrapped his arms around her tighter: “I said I wasn't hungry.”

As if right on cue, Aesop's stomach gave a very telling and loud growl.

“Liar,” (F/N) said only, a victorious smile playing on her face. Aesop finally loosened up his arms a little, but his hands remained on her hips. He raised his dishevelled head, a lazy grin playing on his lips, one that made his sweetheart want to kiss it right off. 

“You know, we could just summon something and make a meal out of it here,” he made his last attempt, brow raised.

With a huff, (F/N) finally managed to leave his arms, right away missing his warmth but ready to stand her ground. She stood up next to the bed and placed her hands on her hips: “Aesop Theodore Sharp, it's one thing to indulge in a meal in bed every once in a while, but prepare it there too? That's how you get ants, you know.”

Aesop seemed quite unbothered by her voice, seemingly enjoying eyeing up her bare curves too much.

“Now, where are my knickers,” she asked, looking around the room, mostly scanning the floor. The professor meanwhile stretched his tall body upon the bed further, again rather similarly to a content tomcat. “I think I'm lying atop them, actually,” he admitted lazily, making absolutely no attempt to actually roll over a bit and hand her the garment. The young woman couldn't help but shake her head, both exasperated and loving every second of it.

“Well, may I have them back? In return for a light supper?” She tried, but even as she was speaking her question, she knew what the answer was going to be. Still, Aesop made a small effort and had the decency to appear thoughtful for a moment.

“No deal,” he said finally, “However, I will run us the bath in the meantime, and make breakfast to bed for you tomorrow. In a similar state of undress, if you so wish. How's that?”

With a final chuckle and a roll to her eyes, (F/N) turned around and bent over, at the very least picking up Aesop's shirt to cover up while she made their food, ignoring his little wolf whistle. She closed the two bottom buttons of the shirt, still leaving her cleavage quite visible to his hungry gaze. 

“Spoilsport,” he said with a mock-pout, and this time she wasn't able to hold herself back from putting one of her knees on the bed and kissing that silly expression off his face. To Aesop's great displeasure, she soon pulled back and fixed him with a triumphant expression.

“I'll hold you to that bath and breakfast,” she said as she turned away and began walking out of their bedroom.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story! You can also check this work and all of my other works over on my AO3. Feedback greatly appreaciated ❤️

[allyjoe755]

Family Ties Pt. 2

Benedict Bridgerton x reader

part one

WC: 1152

a/n: I originally set out for this to be the last part; lo and behold, that isn't happening. So there will be a part three!

warnings: benedict is kind of an alcoholic, slight angst

o-o-o

Five months later

Lady Danbury’s ball was, as always, a smashing hit to the start of the social season.

Benedict Bridgerton, as always, was searching for a good glass of brandy and avoiding the dance floor with the new debutantes and their mamas.

He kicked himself mentally. He had been a fool, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Francesca had debuted this season, which he supposed was exciting, but he had watched at the presentation for a different individual to make her way down to the queen.

You.

Had it truly been nearly half a year ago when he had first met you, had gotten to know you? It had only been for a day, and yet…

And yet, you had stayed. Not physically, but you hadn’t left Benedict– hadn’t left his thoughts, plaguing his mind with images of you, of your laugh and smile and quick wit.

Not even a night out spent drinking and filling other certain desires could take his mind away from it, away from you.

But you were the sister of his brother’s wife. It was ridiculous, because that meant you were off limits. If Anthony knew– oh, if Anthony knew– Benedict didn’t even want to think about the havoc that it would wreak. You were Anthony’s younger sister-in-law, which meant you were protected by Anthony.

So, Benedict had kept these thoughts, these feelings to himself. He had tried, over the past five months, to put on an air that said everything was fine. Perhaps he had spent more time in his art studio as an escape, but no one had noticed, and that was a good thing.

But it hadn’t stopped him from searching for you at the debutante presentation. You had said you were debuting this season. And when you hadn’t shown up…

It was the first time he had brought up the topic of you since you visited. His curiosity got the best of him, and he asked Anthony and Kate where you were.

“She has come down with a rather nasty cold,” his sister-in-law answered. “She will begin attending balls when she feels she is ready.”

“Rather disappointing she couldn’t experience her presentation to the queen,” Anthony said. His wife hummed in agreement as Anthony looked at his brother, a brow just barely quirked. “Why do you ask, brother?”

“Just curious, is all,” he answered, perhaps a bit too quickly, but he smiled at the couple and excused himself before anything else could be said about it.

Now, he was here. You were not.

And he hated how disappointed he was by it. He hated that the only thing that could make him feel at least a little bit better was alcohol, and hiding away in Lady Danbury’s garden.

He was a fool. He resigned himself to this as he sat on one of the cold, stone benches. He had to be, because he had never been so distracted and enamored by someone before, someone he, truthfully, hardly knew–

“Have you been avoiding me?”

The voice was so shocking Benedict almost choked on the brandy sliding down his throat.

There you stood, just to the side of him, your hands clasped at your front.

“You– you’re here,” he choked out, his eyes wide. He stood from his seat in a hurry.

“Of course I am here, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied, the edge of confusion evident in your voice. “I believe I remember mentioning that I would be debuting this season when I visi–”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” he interrupted, and he hated that he did it, hated how flustered he felt. He cleared his throat. “My apologies. Your sister had informed me that you had fallen ill and would not be joining us until you recovered.”

You raised a brow. “So, you truly have not seen me at all this evening amongst the fellow guests?”

Benedict shook his head, and then, he laughed. “I hadn’t believed you would be here.” Truthfully, he hadn’t really been looking for you.

You shook your head in turn. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that.”

The side of Benedict’s lip quirked up into a smirk. He didn’t mean for you to be confused, or hurt, just–

“What’s funny about it,” he said, taking a step closer to you, “is that at the queen’s presentation, I stood for what felt like hours, watching each new debutante, and praying that the next name called would be yours. And each time, when it wasn’t, I grew more and more impatient… until suddenly, it was over.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you whispered, your cheeks growing pink.

“So I was told,” he replied, flashing you a quick grin. His eyes quickly darted to the rest of the garden, to make sure they were in a public enough area, that there were others close enough around… 

He realized he did not want to dishonor you by accident.

His eyes met yours again. “I had assumed, with Lady Danbury’s ball being the first, you would not be feeling well enough to attend. I had assumed you would not be here, so I did not even think to look for you amongst the crowd.”

You released a breath. “Truly?”

“Truly.” He offered you his arm, and you took it as he walked you back toward the ballroom.

“That is a relief,” you told him. “I was hoping to at least have some familiar faces at these social gatherings.”

At your words, Benedict felt something twist in his stomach. Familiar faces. That was all she was looking for. Was that the only reason she had sought him out? As an acquaintance. He was, after all, her sister’s brother-in-law. Perhaps that’s all she saw him as, all she wanted to see him as.

He smiled at her. “Of course.”

His heart thrummed in his chest… but he could do that. He could be content with that.

He just felt better with you being near.

As you stepped back into the ballroom, the musicians began transitioning into a new song. Benedict gave a polite smile and held his hand out to you.

“May I have this dance?”

You let out a giggle and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He guided you to the dance floor and you stood opposite each other, his hand on your waist and yours on his shoulder, the others gently clasped together as you began the steps.

You continued your small talk, your pleasantries, and Benedict enjoyed watching your smile grow wider and wider– enjoyed feeling the own ache in his cheeks. When was the last time he liked anything at a ball?

He didn’t know when, but he knew why.

Benedict Bridgerton liked you. Forbidden as you might have been, he wanted you.

And so, as the dance ended and he bowed to your curtsy, Benedict accepted his resolve to do one thing.

He was going to court you.

o-o-o

taglist: @vicurious28 @pear-1206

[dreammeiser]

Is it okay to ask what where the inspiration for the characters of Dream along?

Of course! I'm always dying to talk about their creation and inspiration but worry about getting too wordy/annoying about it, so I hardly talk about it unless asked (please ask me about my brainrot heeheehee). I can only fit so much on an Instagram Story or a Tweet, so I'm glad you asked here. I guess this will be the master reference for them. Sorry in advance that this is wordy!!

I made these characters spanning the past 14-15 years, with their story only being worked on about 10+ years ago, give or take. I will mention that they were made with Earl as a starting point while I was working at the cool puppet place; the show I was interning on wasn't scratching the creative itch I had, so it was recommended to me to make the project that I wish I was working on. :oD

The Muppets, Sesame Street, Osamu Tezuka's works, and Moomin were some animated/puppet media off the top of my head that always stuck with me my whole life and have influenced my retro inspired work the most. They all had such sweetness and charm to them, and all felt like a found family :o) My favorite trope. Puppets were also just deeply meaningful to me because they were physical forms of creativity and childlike wonder you could hold and play with! I thought whenever you made one, you put a little bit of your heart and soul into them.

I wanted the Dreamalong Gang to have the charm of Jim Henson's and Tove Jansson's characters, but I wanted them to have the humor and intrigue of Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, and Welcome to Night Vale. DHMIS and Night Vale actually inspired the story the most because they were both a really nice mix of absurdist humor and horror! Sleep Paralysis Demons were a point of intrigue for me that I thought were perfect for a Dreamscape setting, so I started working on including those.

The Dreamalong Gang has little bits and pieces of friends that I had loved, but I leaned into the group dynamics more for them. They're composed of friends I wished I had growing up!

Visually, I'd think of a fun/dream adjacent theme for the characters to tie them all together thematically. I know people tend to bark at me when they see what I'm inspired by but, I don't like to copy directly from my inspiration sources. They're just there to inspire you, ya know?

Archie's theme was Wishing Stars and Bedtime Stories; Hunson Abadeer from Adventure Time used to be on here, but I moved away from anything that might've made Archie spooky. I forgot to include Peter Pan and his Shadow on here, but they inspired him as well!

When it came to palettes, sometimes I'd have something in mind for them already like with Roy G Biv, Archie, and Mae-- Roy has his kidcore rainbow/SMPTE bars, Archie had some of my favorite blues and creams with a pastel minimal rainbow, Mae's were based off the colors of a golden hour rainstorm I had seen on my travels. Other times I had to play around with what color I hadn't used much of yet. I wonder if you can tell which colors are my least favorite and which ones I like a lot hahaha :'o)

I would also think about stories and songs that went with the characters thematically and use those to shape their character a little further, like looking to The Impossible Dream from the 1972 Man of la Mancha and Moon River for Archie, as well as old Ole Lukoje fairytales. He used to draw inspiration from Hijo de la Luna, but I wanted his story to be more upbeat on surface level with hidden tones of sadness instead of dramatic.

I don't want this to get tooooo long, so I'm going to put a pin in it there. If people want to know more in depth inspiration sources for specific characters feel free to ask! I like being open about my inspiration sources and my process since so many other artists gatekeep stuff. I hope this was a nice read!! :o)

[berryhobii]

My Person(knj x reader)

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x black!female!reader

Word Count: 8K+

Warnings: fluff, established relationship but the first part is how you met, I’m not very good at dialogue but I tried to make them have funny conversations, (18+ but I don’t control what you consume.) Smut, unprotected sex(please stay safe and have conversations with every sexual partner you have!), vaginal sex, slight anal play(he sticks his thumb in readers-), squirting, rough sex, soft dom Namjoon, slight breath play, strength kink(bc look at Namjoon), spanking(he’s obsessed with reader’s ass), reader is dark skinned and curvy, reader also has piercings(ears, belly button) and dark stretch marks, mentions of micro aggressions and discrimination but not much. I didn’t have a specific Namjoon in mind for this except that he’s buff so imagine him as whatever you like!

A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting on tumblr. I don’t know how to work it very well but I’m getting there. If anyone has any tips, please tell me! This story is for all of my black army’s, more specifically my dark skinned ones. I love fan fiction but I hardly see myself in the stories. I don’t blush, my hair is tightly coiled, I wear braids, I have dark stretch marks and I know that’s true of so many army’s out there. No hate to any writers. I hope to be a voice for all of my melanated readers out there. Please enjoy my first attempt! Any criticism is accepted and feel free to pop in to talk! Thank you💜

Namjoon met you at a popular club in downtown Seoul. It was his birthday and his friends wanted to take him out to get “shit faced drunk”. Jimin’s words, not his. He wasn’t much of a drinker. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t a lightweight or anything, his college years had built his immunity. He just wasn’t very interested in risking his liver every weekend like most of his friends did. It still baffled him how Jimin was in perfect health. He’s seen that guy pound back shots without flinching and he could still stand up straight.

Instead, he enjoyed quiet nights in reading while sipping tea or cultivating his small garden. Call him a nerd or a homebody, he didn’t care. It’s what he enjoyed and that was perfect for him.

Still, he was young so of course he liked going out with his friends. He was turning 26 and not getting any younger. These were his prime years to go out and party like no tomorrow before his mother started pushing him to settle down and get married. Not that he didn’t want to but he wanted to find love naturally, not by some meet up that his mother would arrange. She’s already sent a few young women his way but none of them worked out. They were all nice women but they just didn’t click.

The music was bumping, speakers shaking the ground underneath his feet. The atmosphere didn’t feel like the shoddy bars they used to go to back in college. This one was more sophisticated. Honestly, Namjoon was expecting something more…..unhinged. Considering Jimin and Taehyung planned this, he was fully expecting strippers or maybe tigers in cages.

“Come on, I got us a section upstairs.” Jimin yelled over the music, guiding them through the bodies and past the multiple tables and other sections filled with other club goers. The club was packed with people dressed to the nines; Rolex watches, Gucci purses. And was that someone wearing a Givenchy necklace? He swore he heard Taehyung saying just how expensive that thing was.

“How did you get us a section? Isn’t this place super exclusive?” Jungkook asked as he checked out one of the bottle girls that sauntered past.

They reached the top of the black carpeted staircase—there were multiple sections up on the balcony, most already occupied by other groups. They all seemed to be having fun taking shots, dancing, and snapping videos on their phones.

The section Jimin reserved was behind a black curtain. Hoseok let out an impressed whistle at the decor. “This place is awesome. Nice work, Jimin. Who’d you have to bang to get us here?”

Jimin just winked and held a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry about that. This is about Namjoon. Let’s order some bottles!”

The night was in full swing. A few rounds of “necessary” shots served by scantily clad bottle girls, including the one Jungkook checked out earlier. He made sure to slip her some extra cash along with his phone number just in case.

“Make sure you girls give the birthday boy here some extra attention.” Taehyung said, clapping Namjoon on the shoulder. Those words immediately made Namjoon feel nervous. While it was his birthday, that didn’t mean he wanted all eyes on him, especially from a lot of attractive women.

One of the girls leaned over to pour him a drink, her mascara coated eyelashes fluttering at him and her red stained lips lifting in a flirty smile. He gulped down a block in his throat, suddenly feeling shy. This woman was very beautiful but he doubted she was actually interested in him. It was her job to act this way and he didn’t want to assume anything just because she batted her eyelashes at him.

He threw back a shot of tequila given to him by Hoseok, the liquid burning as it went down and his face turning but he felt himself loosen up a bit.

Hoseok must have noticed his facial expression because he let out a laugh. “Hey, remember last time you had tequila?”

Yoongi, who had been expectedly quiet during this trip, suddenly slammed his hand down on the table. “Don’t bring that up.” He glared, dark eyes staring right into Hoseok’s soul. Hoseok mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. He was not about to poke that sleeping bear.

Namjoon laughed at their interaction. They all knew about that and no one ever mentioned it. Being a law major, Yoongi knew a lot of things about the legal system. A lot of things…..which probably meant he knew how to effectively get away with a crime….

He’d never do that though….right?

“Hey! Are you drinking tequila?” Seokjin exclaimed, drunkenly stumbling over to them. He was such a lightweight. Hoseok was too but the difference was that where Hoseok got quiet while drunk, Seokjin got loud.

Loud and loose lipped.

“Remember in college when both of you compared your dicks” a hiccup broke up his words, “took photos, and then accidentally sent them to Ms. Choi? And then she sent a nude back?” He guffawed a laugh, throwing an arm over a fuming Yoongi’s shoulder. If bodies could generate explosive heat from anger, Seokjin would be on fire right now. And if he didn’t die from that, Yoongi’s ice cold glare would surely freeze him.

Yoongi stood up, brushing his hyung off, mumbling something about whiskey before exiting the section.

Namjoon and Hoseok looked at each other before bursting in laughter—a confused Seokjin whining for his buddy to return.

All that laughter must have pushed his bladder to its limit. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

He made his way down the stairs, almost bumping into a girl carrying a tray of drinks on the way. Whew, that tequila must be getting to him. Ah, who is he kidding? He would have fully crashed into that girl completely sober. Does alcohol straighten out his normal clumsiness? He could test that theory later.

For now, bathroom.

After relieving himself, quickly since he accidentally walked in on two men incredibly close to penetration, he tried making his way back to the stairs. He passed the dance floor, seeing all of the packed bodies dancing and having a good time. He wasn’t much of a dancer but it looked like fun. Maybe when he got back to his friends, he’d suggest it. He knew Jimin and Hoseok would be down, Jungkook too. Yoongi had probably disappeared to the bar but they all knew he’d be against it.

Seokjin would……

Wow…

All thoughts about his friend’s willingness to dance were cut off when he caught sight of you.

You were absolutely stunning, a stand out in this overcrowded place full of drunken rich kids. The shiny decorations and strobe lights seemed dim in comparison to your effervescent beauty.

The silky expanse of your golden sepia brown thighs made him clench his fists, fingers tingling to sink into the plush fat. You crossed one knee high boot clad leg over the other, your ass practically smothering the little bar chair under you. Your cheek rested on your palm, deep brown eyes staring listlessly into the fruity drink in front of you. You were scrolling through your phone, manicured finger slowly tapping on the screen. Now that he looked more closely, you seemed…..down.

Were you alone? Why did you seem so upset in a place like this?

You must have felt eyes on you because you turned your head, locking eyes with him. His breath got caught in his throat. Your front profile was even more ethereal than your side; your skin was dewy and glittery, sparkling under the lights. Full lips outlined in black with a clear gloss over them, smokey eyeshadow made your eyes look even more captivating, and your hair was long and in braids he’s only seen in old school hip hop videos he used to watch.

You tossed your braided hair over your shoulder, the tips ending just below your thighs, eyes focused solely on him.

Your staring contest was cut short when someone threw an arm over his shoulders. He startled, quickly whipping his head around. His pounding heart calmed at the sight of Jimin.

Jimin leaned closer to almost yell in his ear. “Why are you just standing here? Let’s go dance!”

Namjoon nodded, about to follow Jimin but he couldn’t help but look back towards where that mysterious person was just sitting. Only to find you gone. He felt a slight pang of disappointment. Where had you gone? Did you leave? His eyes searched the crowd but he didn’t find you. He didn’t have a lot of time to think about it before Hoseok and Jungkook joined them, dragging him to the dance floor, their laughter almost as loud as the music.

Dancing had pretty much made him forget about you. While you were very gorgeous, he doubted you’d ever cross paths again. It was just a small connection in a club, it wouldn’t go anywhere.

He made his way off the dance floor, sweat rolling down the back of his neck and throat dry. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, letting out a breath once he made it to the bar.

“Can I get a water please?” He asked the bartender who nodded and moved to take another order.

As he waited, his eyes scanned the other people at the bar—the counter was a large circle that took up a lot of surface area, tall shelves held most of the alcohol, a draft beer tap area just in front of him.

Something moved to the left of him so he innocently looked to the side. And the alluring eyes that stared back at him caught him by surprise.

It was you again.

He almost couldn’t believe you had appeared before him once again, closer and looking directly at him. Now that you were so close, he could appreciate just how absolutely striking you were. Your lashes were long and delicate, a helix piercing in your right ear, a chain hanging from it that connected to the second piercing in your earlobe. He also spotted the cutest little mole under your left eye.

He didn’t even realize he was staring until the bartender placed his water in front of him, the feeling of the cold glass pressing against his hand breaking him from his frozen state. He blinked his eyes frantically, averting his gaze to his glass of water.

How embarrassing. He must have looked like a creep staring at you and the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

“Can I get a strawberry virgin margarita please?”

He was surprised at how light and airy your voice was. It didn’t quite match your dark clothes and leather boots but he guessed that was just one surprise about you. He wondered if you had any more.

“Water, huh? You a lightweight?”

He didn’t answer at first. Were you talking to him? You must be. He was the only one with a glass of water across this entire bar.

Chuckling, he shrugged his shoulder, not noticing how her eyes focused on his muscles. “My throat was dry. Alcohol actually dehydrates you.” He instantly regretted saying that. Bore you with random facts, that’ll keep you interested. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the drink the bartender had just placed in front of her. “How about you? Drinking something that looks like alcohol without any actual alcohol seems more like lightweight behavior.”

That made you laugh, the sound hitting his ears and itching his brain in the best of ways. The sight of your sparkling teeth and the way your eyes crinkled at the ends made his heart speed up. You were captivating, he almost couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

It was your turn to shrug, index finger twirling the straw. “I guess I just like to feel adventurous while still keeping my inhibitions. Alcohol affects the prefrontal cortex first, the part of the brain that controls impulse, judgement and reasoning.”

His mouth dropped open in shock. Did you just….?

You bashfully giggled, eyes focusing on the designs on your oval, manicured nails. “Sorry. That was kind of weird to say, huh?”

He shook his head so hard that his neck could have cracked. “No! Not at all. I didn’t even know that. That’s really interesting.”

Your shy smile made you all the more endearing. “Is it? My friends say I’m kind of a bore.”

He smiled back at you. “Mine do too but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a healthy dose of knowledge. Facts like that can save lives.”

“I’m y/n.”

“Namjoon. It’s a pleasure.”

Sitting and talking with you, Namjoon learned a lot about you. You were a 24 year old foreigner who moved here 2 years ago to attend Seoul University, a full ride scholarship under your belt. You taught yourself Korean through books and the nice lady at a grocery store from your hometown. You loved mangoes and hated ketchup, your favorite number was 4—and when you were 5, you accidentally walked followed the dolphin trainers at the aquarium and almost drowned. Now you were afraid of open bodies of water.

Namjoon also found you to be incredibly optimistic, charismatic, and sweet. He was absorbed in every word that passed your glossed lips, falling a little deeper with each shy giggle and tug of your ear that you did whenever you said something embarrassing. You were so adorable and Namjoon found himself wanting to hear more about you.

Currently, you two were laughing about a story Namjoon was telling you.

“No way!”

He nodded his head. “It’s true.“

You wiped a tear from your eye, laughter reducing itself to little giggles. “How do you fail a driver’s test 6 times? There should be a limit.”

“Yeah. The driving instructor knew me by name. My mom even invited him over for dinner when I finally passed. Apparently, he also had a bet going on with his friends on how many tries it would take me.”

Your laughter picked up again. “I’d make that bet too.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad.” He pouted. “I’ve never gotten pulled over or a ticket. I even keep both hands on the wheel.”

You leaned your cheek against your palm, much like how you did when he first laid eyes on you. This time, however, your eyes weren’t bored or sad—they were filled with mirth and light. He wanted to see you like that all the time.

“So what are you doing out tonight? Did you come with friends?”

He noticed how your eyes kind of dimmed, fingers lifting to tug at your ear again. A sense of panic immediately flooded his stomach. Oh no, had he offended you? And the conversation was going so well too.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Your eyes lifted to his, mouth slightly dropping open. “Oh! No, you didn’t offend me.” You waved your hands around. “It’s a honest question. I did come here with friends but I think they ditched me.”

He didn’t know these so called friends but right now, he wanted nothing more than to give them a piece of his mind for leaving you alone.

“What assholes. They don’t sound like very good friends.”

Your eyes casted to the watch on his wrist and then up to meet his eyes once again. “No. I guess they aren’t.”

“I’d never leave you alone like that. I’d at least have the courtesy to leave a text or something. It’s dangerous to go anywhere alone this late.” He didn’t even realize he was rambling or the frustration that was building in his chest.

A soft hand on his arm stopped him from his rant, his eyes meeting yours. The brown irises sparkled, a gentle smile on your face that made heat rise to the tips of his ears.

“Thank you, Namjoon. You sound like a really good friend. I’d love to have a friend like you looking out for me.”

The sincerity of your words made him feel all warm and dizzy. He didn’t even remember why he was upset anymore, not when you were looking at him that way. Not when you were touching him so softly and definitely not when you were so close.

A sheepish smile crossed his face, dimple indenting his cheek even deeper. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, gaze going to a random spot on the bar. “Um….yeah. I just….friends should be like family. They should look out for you. I’d…..I’d look out for you like that.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” Your hand moved from his arm, your warmth leaving at the same time and causing him to feel cold. “But enough about me, how about you? Why are you out to tonight?”

“It’s my birthday. My friends took me out. They thought I needed a night to let loose. I normally prefer to spend my time indoors or out in nature but they thought I needed to go out and party. It is my 26th after all, not getting any younger.”

You hummed. “Well, happy birthday. I hope you’re having a nice time.”

“I am.” He looked deeply into your eyes when he said that. Your eyes widened a little, fingers twitching to rise to your ear but you pushed it the feeling down. After a few seconds of staring, you coughed, reaching for your drink to sip down the remainder of it.

He offered you another smile. “May I buy you another?”

“It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t I be offering you a drink?” That little teasing smile and tone came back. You were too cute.

“You can offer next time.”

“So there will be a next time?”

“If you allow it.”

You bit your lip, trying to force down the smile that threatened at your lips. Damn, he got you.

~

Namjoon didn’t even realize how much time had passed until his friends came searching for him. Jungkook was balancing a sleeping Hoseok on his shoulder, Seokjin and Taehyung not too far behind and stumbling all over the place.

“We’ve been looking all over for you. Where’d you go? It’s almost 3AM.” Jimin said, the only one who looked normal but judging by that glassy look in his eye, he was wasted too.

“Ah sorry. I was just speaking to someone. Got caught up.”

You gave all of the conscious men a wave, flashing a smile as well. “Hi. Sorry I hogged your friend.”

Jimin and Jungkook’s eyes almost popped out of their heads at the sight of you. They looked at each other and then at you and then at Namjoon.

Namjoon coughed, noticing the looks on their faces. Jimin was the first to smile, shaking his head at you. “No, no. It’s cool. Hog him all you like.” He flashed a look at Namjoon that read “later” before smiling again. “Yoongi hyung’s waiting outside. Can you drive your car or do you feel drunk?”

Seokjin, Taehyung, and Hoseok definitely weren’t driving anywhere. And he’d feel bad if he let the others haul the family drunkies all the way home.

And then there’s you….

He turned to you, your eyes lifting to meet his and instantly smiling.

“Do you need a ride home? Or an Uber? I’d be happy to take you or request one.”

His offer gave you a weird feeling behind your rib cage. Shaking your head, you stood to your feet. “I drove here. I’m not drunk either. I’m pretty sure I can get back.”

“Are you sure? At least let me walk you to your car. The bar’s are emptying out and I want you to be safe.”

“I’m sure. Your friends look like they need you more than I do.” You looked behind him, seeing how the broad shouldered one was trying to lay a kiss on the pierced one who was balancing a sleeping one.

Namjoon waved his hand. “They’re big boys. I’m pretty sure no one would kidnap them. They’d bring Seokjin hyung back for sure. He’d talk their ears off.”

An indignant, “hey!” came from behind Namjoon.

You let out a giggle. “I think I got it. I’m a big girl. I cross the street all the time by myself.”

Namjoon ran a hand through his hair. He was sad you had to go. He really wanted to talk to you more.

“Do you think…..I could have your number? I’d love to see you again.”

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, leaning forward a bit to crowd his space. Like this, he could smell your perfume—fruity and feminine and oh so you.

“I’d like that. Maybe you can show me what helped you succeed on try number 7.”

He playfully rolled his eyes, cheeks hurting from how hard he was smiling. Fuck, you were amazing.

You exchanged numbers, you putting his contact as Namjoon 10 And 2💜. Him putting you down as y/n🐬.

You followed him and the others outside into the breezy Seoul air. Summer was just getting ready to leave but thankfully, it was still pretty nice outside.

“I’ll see you around, Namjoon.” The way you said his name made him want to hear it more and more from your lips.

He gave you a little wave. “Bye. Get home safe.”

“You too.” Tossing your braids over your shoulder, you gave him one final look before bidding his friends goodbye and starting your walk down the street. He watched you until you disappeared from his sight, letting out a dreamy sigh when he could no longer see you.

“Well, look at you, Casanova. Didn’t know you had it in you.” Jimin teased, clapping a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Yeah. She was…..amazing.“

Taehyung stumbled over, almost falling if not for Namjoon catching him. “Awwwww, our Joonie hyung’s in loveeeeeee…”

Rolling his eyes, he helped Taehyung stand a little straighter, bearing his weight. “Come on. You can crash at my place.”

And as Namjoon laid in bed that night, he thought about just how memorable this night had been. He’d spent time with his friends, celebrated his birthday, and met the most wonderful woman ever.

His phone pinged from his bedside. Leaning over, he grabbed it and unlocked it, a smile rising to his face at the name.

y/n🐬: made it home and in bed. I tried driving with both of my hands on the wheel. I felt lame

He rolled over, arm tucking under his pillow, phone illuminating the doofy smile on his face.

It wasn’t love. Not yet.

Not yet.

~

“What are you thinking about, baby?”

He looked up from his phone, attention going to your body as you climbed on top of him. You both had finished dinner and having a shower and were now getting ready for bed. He was scrolling through his social media, timeline bringing up memories from 2 years ago. It was a photo Jungkook posted, a candid shot of them—Yoongi and Namjoon were raising their glasses to the camera, Taehyung and Jimin cheering while clinking shots together, Hoseok was staring blankly at nothing and Jungkook was cheesing hard. He doesn’t even remember this picture being taken but he can remember how he felt that night. He felt so free and happy, being with this best friends and partying like there was no tomorrow. It was great.

He connected eyes with you. God, you were just as gorgeous as the first day he met you, maybe even more. Dressed down and barefaced, he thought you were the picture of beauty and allure. Everything you did enchanted him—even something as simple as when you’d put your chopsticks in your hand one by one or the way you’d shake your arms because they’d get tired when you braided your hair.

You were perfect to him. Everything he could ever want and need. You completed him. You gave him what he lacked, supported him wholeheartedly and genuinely, and loved him in a way that he’s never felt before.

You were his person.

He showed you his phone. You observed the picture for a moment. “Isn’t that from your birthday 2 years ago? But your birthday was last week, why is it just now appearing in your memories?”

He placed his phone on the bedside table, hands going to your bare thighs since you hated wearing pants to bed. Weird since you wore socks to bed, only to take them off in your sleep but adorable nonetheless.

“Jungkook posted it a week later. It was that week after he dropped his phone in that pond.” His fingertips lightly grazed over the dark stretch marks that stretched over your thighs and love handles. He loved every inch of you. You were so confident and sure of yourself, never letting anyone’s comments diminish your glow.

You let out an “ah” of recognition. “Oh yeah. He would carry his iPad everywhere.”

Namjoon chuckled. His friend was so silly.

“That was the night we met. Has it been two years already?”

He hummed and exhaled a deep breath. “Yeah. It went by so fast.”

You leaned down to press your foreheads together, one hand coming to rest on his collarbone. Your thumb gently stroked the skin there, playing with the silver chain that sat around his throat. You remembered when he had broken the clasp on one he had before and he was actually really upset about it. He said it was a gift from an old friend that had passed away a while back. While he tried to act like it was fine, you could see just how broken up about it he was so you wanted to do something to make him happy again.

So while he was away, you took the necklace to a jewelry repair store and got the clasp replaced. You surprised him with it the next day and the look of absolute elation on his face was enough to move you. That was the first time you had seen him cry. He hugged you so tightly, his warmth seeping into your bones and tears soaking your shirt. And you held him until he had fallen asleep, the repaired necklace clasped around his neck.

It was also the first time he said he loved you, the three little words sending you to cloud 9. You loved Namjoon too. He was really the first actual friend you made since coming to Seoul. Being a foreigner, people treated you differently. If not by their micro aggressions or blatant rudeness, it was how they ignored you and treated you like you didn’t exist.

The “friends” you went to the bar with that time were classmates of yours. They were nice at the start, always asking questions about your hair and about America. You were just happy to have friends so you didn’t mind. You felt like there was a bit of a gap between you and them. Your Korean wasn’t that good when you arrived so that language barrier often made things a little awkward.

And when they invited you out to a high class bar in the nicer part of Seoul, you were happy to tag along. You didn’t leave your apartment much aside from school and work. Mainly because you were still a little uncomfortable being in a new country despite living here for close to 2 years. It kind of felt like you were just drifting around and biding your time until graduation.

But you didn’t want to do that. You were in a new country! You could make new experiences and learn new things. You should be getting out and having fun.

So you dressed in one of your most adventurous outfits and you met your friends at the bar. At first, everything was going fine. They were taking shots and pictures and you were trying to loosen up. Eventually, your friends went to dance while you went to go to the bathroom. They were gone when you returned and you couldn’t find them in the sea of people.

That’s why you were sitting alone. You were waiting for them to come back but after about an hour and a half with no update, you were getting ready to leave.

That was until you saw Namjoon. Just from across the room, you felt a connection between you both. When you saw his friends come up to him, you sighed and got up to go to the bathroom. At least his friends looked like they wanted to be around him.

A few Korean men had approached you throughout the night while you sat alone and while you tried to be nice, they were much too imposing and forceful. That’s what led you to the bar. You wanted some space and maybe one more mock tail before going home.

Seeing Namjoon again was a complete coincidence. You didn’t even notice he was at the bar until you stood next to him, your eyes instinctively looking over.

And wow….

He was so much more handsome up close—tall, broad, and those biceps looked like he could throw you around a room without breaking a sweat.

Whew…you were repressed.

Those thoughts ceased from your mind the moment you two started talking. Namjoon was wholesome and intelligent, a little bit goofy and very very lovely. Unlike most of the men you’ve encountered so far, Namjoon wasn’t pushy or sleazy—he was a gentleman, he listened to every word you said, and he kept you engaged. It almost felt a little too good to be true.

But it wasn’t. You deserved it. And so did he.

“That’s okay. At least we know we cherished every single day.”

“And I’ll cherish each one after that.”

He reciprocated your wide smile, love and adoration flooding both of your gazes.

“I love you, Namjoon.”

“And I love you.”

Your lips met in a sensual kiss. You melted further into his hold, your chests pressing against one another. His thumbs rubbed at where your panties sank into your plush hips, tilting his chin so that he could kiss you deeper.

It didn’t take long for you to start moving your hips cover his crotch, sweats being your only barrier.

He pulled away from you, both of you panting, gazes locked and stirring with desire.

“You aren’t tired from my birthday weekend? We barely made our reservation.” Namjoon recalled.

You snorted, lifting back up. “If I remember correctly, it was you who couldn’t keep it in your pants right before we walked out of the door.”

“You looked absolutely ravishing in that dress. Did you see your ass?” Delivering a swift smack to one of your cheeks and then squeezing the burning skin. He was obsessed with your ass. It was perfect for your hips and thighs, perfectly round and it rippled in the most delicious of ways whenever he slapped it. Not to mention, it filled out whatever you wore; skirts, dresses, jeans….You in jeans should be considered a world wonder. For his eyes only though.

You didn’t try to fight down your grin. “Me? Did you see your arms in that dress shirt? I was ready to ride you the moment you buttoned it up.”

Biting his lip, his fingers went under the band of your panties. “Why don’t you ride me now? Give me a demonstration.”

Your eyes darkened at the feeling of his hardening cock pressing into your covered heat.

“I’ll give you more than that.”

Leaning forward again, you placed a sweet peck to his lips before trailing down to his throat. You sucked and nipped at the skin there, careful not to leave any marks too high that would show over his collar. Good thing the base of his neck and his collarbone were open and safe for marking.

He let out a sigh at the feeling, body shivering when you ran your lips over his soft spot. Lifting up to study your work and feeling satisfied at the darkening marks across his chest, you began kissing your way down his body. He’s been spending more time in the gym so the flat expanse of his tummy was starting to harden, light abs beginning to form. You loved feeling the hard muscle, your manicured fingertips ghosting over them. He sighed again, stomach seizing up a little at your touch.

Finally, you reached your destination. Eyes hungrily taking in the large bulge in his black briefs. Your hand raised to rub over it, feeling his cock jerk slightly from your touch. Reaching for the band of his underwear, you tugged them down, him lifting his hips to help you. Once the stupid fabric was tossed to the floor, you got to take in the thick and throbbing cock in front of you—a lush pink tip with veins running all over it and precum leaking from the tip. Delicious.

Licking your lips, you ran your tongue over the underside, all the way to the tip where you sucked him into your mouth. His legs tensed up, sighing at the feeling. Finally.

Your tongue flicked under the head of his cock, his most sensitive spot. His hand lifting to rest on your head, making sure to be gentle since he knew your scalp was still a little sore from your new hairstyle. He remembers coming home from work to find you in the bathroom laying down your baby hairs. When he left that morning, you were in your natural hair, the tight coils refreshed and bouncy. He loved any hairstyle you had and he thought it was amazing that you could transform it into so many ways. Throughout the summer, you had been wearing it more naturally and on his birthday weekend, you installed a beautiful honey blonde wig that he really liked.

Now, you were in shoulder blade length boho braids. You had sat in the bathroom for hours following a YouTube tutorial, arms constantly getting tired and a few of the braids turning out a little wonky but in the end, you thought they looked good. It was a good try. And when Namjoon came home, his eyes brightening and compliments flowing, you felt even more beautiful.

And much like right now, you had given him the blowjob of his life that day.

One hand grabbing his shaft, you pursed your lips to drool spit on his tip before sucking him back into your mouth. You did that a few more times to fully slick up his cock, hand pumping up and down his shaft.

“Fuck. Come on, baby. Stop teasing.”

Humming around his cock, you took him all the way down, relaxing your throat to swallow him all the way. His back arched, the warm heat of your mouth feeling absolutely amazing. Lots of practice made you a master at deepthroating his cock. Before, you could barely go down halfway without gagging but now, you could take him to the hilt without flinching.

You bobbed your head up and down his cock, both hands digging into his strong thighs as a balance. You hollowed your cheeks when you came up, cupping your tongue along the underside of his cock. You wanted him to feel absolutely every sensation and god damn, he did.

His eyes he didn’t realize were even closed finally opened, head lifting to look down at you. Breath hitching when he saw you were already staring up at him. If there was one thing you loved, it was eye contact. The way your brown irises stared directly into his made him feel fuzzy all over.

That feeling in the base of his tummy began to form and he knew he had to stop you. “Shit, stop baby. Stop.”

You pulled off his cock with a pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Trying to regain your breath, you crawled back up to straddle his stomach, leaning over him again to kiss him. His hands grabbed at your hips, rubbing the skin there before traveling up your sides under your shirt. He tugged at the fabric, you releasing his lips to take it off—your body now revealed to him and it was the picture of perfection.

From your deep brown nipples down to the pudge of your belly where a pink belly button piercing sat to the swell of your hips. You were dazzling, the picture of femininity, goddess like. So many words yet not enough to describe you fully.

You were just perfect.

His hands ran up to your nipples, tweaking the buds and squeezing your breasts. You sighed, eyes fluttering closed at the little sparks of pleasure you felt. That pleasure went right to the space between your thighs, dampening your already soaked panties even further.

“Get up here and sit on my face, baby.” Namjoon’s deep voice ordered and who were you to deny him?

Climbing off his lap and to the side of him, he lifted up to help you out of your panties. The grey fabric was now almost black with how soaked they were. He lifted the clothing to his noise, inhaling deeply.

“Fuck.” He tossed them to the ground, dragon like eyes staring deep into your soul. His gaze sent shivers down your spine. He was so fucking sexy—hair messy and thick lips bitten red. “Get the fuck up here.”

You barely had time to move before he was grabbing your thighs and hauling you up to his face. You moaned from the movement. Okay so maybe you had a bit of a strength kink. Who wouldn’t when your man was 6’1 with biceps bigger than melons and thighs thick enough to crush your head.

And Namjoon knew it.

Now with your glistening pussy right above him, he could show you another part of his body that you loved.

Tongue swiping through your slit, he hummed at the taste. You were dripping, a single strand of wetness dripping down to hit his chin.

You grabbed the headboard once you felt his tongue graze over your clit, a light moan coming from your lips.

His lips wrapped around the bud, sucking it with enough pressure to send you reeling. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs, one hand on your ass to hold you closer. His tongue lapped over your clit, the little bud pulsing under his ministrations.

“Ahhh, Joon….” You moaned out. He hummed against your pussy, the vibrations striking right through you.

A swift slap to your ass made you squeal. “Ride my face, gorgeous.”

Always a good girl, you adjusted your knees before you started rocking on his tongue. The rough texture stimulated your clit in the best way, the feeling of Namjoon’s hands slapping at your ass fueling you on.

Your mouth was dropped open, head tossed back as hot pleasure sparkled all across your body. That band in your stomach beginning to wind itself tighter and tighter.

Hand coming down to wrap in his hair to pull him closer, you humped against his tongue, clit feeling so sensitive yet so fucking good. Namjoon knew you were close so he moved his head with your hips, hands gripping at your ass hard enough to leave bruises.

“Oh my god! I’m cumming! Fffffff-uhhhhh….”

Your orgasm crashed into your body, pleasurable waves radiating down your spine.

He flicked his tongue against your sensitive clit until you shivered in overstimulation, sitting yourself on his chest. Both of your chests heaved, gazes locked as you came down.

“Ready for more?” You asked, eyes squinting and a teasing smile on your face.

He smirked. “I believe a demonstration was in order?”

Working your way down, you straddled his hips once again, feeling his cock press against your sopping heat. Your lips locked in another kiss, this one a little more desperate.

Reaching under yourself, you grabbed his cock in your hand, stroking him a little.

A hand came down on your ass, the burn making you moan.

“Sit on my fucking cock. Right. Now.”

His voice sent shivers down your spine but you obliged. Lining his cock with your entrance, you slid down his shaft—thick girth stretching you open in the most delicious of ways, your walls constricting around him.

Namjoon’s hands gripped at your ass, feeling like he would float away. Your pussy was so warm and squeezed around him so tightly. He’s had sex in the past but no one would ever compare to you. The way your body reacted to him, how your pretty eyes crossed a little at the feeling of his cock filling you up. He was obsessed with you.

And he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life.

Once he was all the way inside, you let out a breath.

“You feel so good.” He sighed.

You kissed him again, loving the feeling of his lips on yours. “So do you. So big.”

Your hips began moving against him, gaining a comfortable rhythm. His cock rubbed against your walls—you could feel him pulsing inside of you, the head of his cock reaching deeper inside.

His head fell back against the pillows, eyes closing as he focused on the way your pussy felt around him.

“Feel good, baby?” You whispered in his ear, sucking the lobe into your mouth. You moved back and forth against him, your breasts pressed against his chest.

“Yeah.”

Adjusting yourself, you began bouncing up and down on his cock, the wet slap of your ass against his thighs filling the room.

He slapped your ass again, using his hands to help you move against him. “That’s it. Bounce on that cock, baby.”

You moaned. “Your cock feels s-so good.” Mouth dropping open in pleasure, you began to move faster on his cock. The head was rubbing right up against that soft spot inside of you. That band was starting to tighten again. Only Namjoon could push you to orgasm so quickly. Just as much as you knew his body, he knew yours. You two were perfectly in sync.

“Turn around, baby.”

You whined from having to stop but you did what he asked, secretly loving how he bossed you around. Keeping him inside, you turned around on his cock so he could get a view of your juicy ass.

You started your rhythm back up, ass jiggling as it met his hips. Your back arched, sweat dripping down your spine and making your melanated skin glisten. His eyes were mesmerized by it, cock throbbing at the sight. Namjoon could watch you bounce on his cock forever. If he could frame it, he would. But this was for his eyes only and he liked to keep it that way.

Your hands found stability on his knees, leaning forward to bounce even harder on him. Namjoon’s hands spread your cheeks to get a full view of your pussy. He groaned at the sight of your sweet cunt wrapped around him, your viscous wetness soaking his cock, a ring of cream starting to form at the base.

“Pussy’s so good, baby. So fucking tight.”

You clenched around him at the praise, basking in his attention.

“Mmmmm. M’gonna cum again….baby….” You breathed out, head falling forward as pleasure consumed you. His cock was scrambling your brain, your entire being consumed by him. He made you feel so good, so beautiful, so utterly loved and adored that you could burst.

“Me too. Do it. Cum all over my cock.”

Thumb swiping over your puckered hole, he barely stuck the tip of it in before you were cumming all over his cock.

The feeling of your walls gripping him like vice was enough to push him over too. He spilled into your warm heat, moving you back and forth against him to ride out both of your orgasms.

But it wasn’t enough.

Before you could even come down, you were being tossed onto your back, legs being thrown up until you were folded in half. You could barely react before his lips were wrapped around your clit. His head moved side to side, slurping up all of the juices you offered.

“Ohhhhh f-fff-uhhhh! Namjoon!” Your head kept lifting to watch him and falling back into the pillow. You wanted to watch but just the sight of him between your thighs was enough to propel you to another gut wrenching orgasm. Your hips jumped against his face, his hands holding your thighs to keep you still.

He pulled away from your cunt, juices all over his chin and cheeks. The sight made your pussy clench, more wetness leaking out of you.

Keeping your legs up, Namjoon brought his hard cock back to your opening, pushing inside with no hesitation. You screamed at the intrusion, walls sporadically clenching and unclenching around him. Your lungs burned, trying to suck in air but he was punching it all out of you.

The connections in your brain were going all haywire, all of your thoughts absorbed by him and the feeling of his cock bullying your walls.

Namjoon set a punishing pace, hips pistoling in and out of you until you could almost feel him in your throat. His eyes found where you were connected, your juices and his cum spilling out in a messy mixture. Everything was so wet. He was slipping in and out of you so easily and it felt so good.

Your eyes crossed, mouth open as screams and chants of his name left you. His right hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly—not enough to cut off your already sparse air but just enough for you to feel it. Your hands scratched at his arms, the burn fueling him further.

Namjoon couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were truly a sight to behold. He almost wanted to tattoo this image on his eyelids. Your pleasurable state was one of his favorite sights, right next to you smiling, your ass, and that confused look you got on your face that first time you saw a pink strawberry. Strawberries were red, right?

He could feel your walls suffocating his cock once again. You were close. Incoherent ramblings fell from your lips, chants of how good he felt and how close you were. His hand released your throat, both coming up to hold onto the headboard and hips slamming into you even harder.

“N-Namjoon!” Tears welled in your eyes, overwhelming pleasure and love filling your veins. You loved him so much. He was everything to you. He was your person.

Your orgasm hit you so hard that your vision went white, ears ringing and toes curling. This orgasm was stronger than your others and it felt slightly different but very familiar.

Your walls forced Namjoon’s cock out of you, a short burst of liquid leaving your pussy. He used his cock to slap at your clit, prolonging your pleasure.

“Good girl! Squirt all over my cock.” He praised, a slightly sadistic smile spread across his face. He loved you like this—when your pleasure absolutely consumed you to the point where your body reacted this way.

A few tugs to his own cock and he came as well, spurts of cum landing on your pussy and dripping down your ass.

He slowly let your legs down, massaging your thighs. Leaning over you, he pressed a few kisses to your temple and cheeks, whispering sweet words to you as you came down.

After a few moments, you let out a hum, lifting your weak arms to wrap around his neck and pull him into a kiss.

“Are you okay?” He asked after pulling away.

“More than okay. I haven’t squirted like that in a while.”

He rubbed his nose against yours. “Mhmm. I love when you do. It’s so hot.” His softening cock rubbed against your ultra sensitive clit, your body jumping and a whine falling from your lips.

“Stop.” You whined. “I feel like my pussy is going to fall off.”

“Well, we can’t have that. Why don’t we go shower and have some cake?”

Your smile was dazzling. “That sounds amazing.”

After you were done using the bathroom and cleaning up, you went to cut the cake, not trusting Namjoon with a knife.

“Don’t want you losing any fingers. I won’t be able to live if you lost those.” You winked, giggling when he gave you a playful slap to your ass.

While you did that, he sat on the couch and went back to his phone. It was still open to the photo of his friends. Liking it, he closed out his social media and went to the page he was looking at before he opened Instagram.

The bright colored logo stared him him in the face, that feeling of anxiousness rising in his chest once again.

“I sliced some strawberries too. All fully red, as they should be.”

At the sight of you, that pressure alleviated, adoration swelling at how adorable you were.

Why was he so nervous in the first place? He couldn’t remember and for now, it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was you.

“Pink strawberries are valid.”

“They’re confusing! It’s like, why are strawberries red but strawberry candy is always pink? Then do they use pink strawberries for candy? It’s ridiculous.”

Yeah. You.

~

Staring up at the building, Namjoon inhaled a deep breath, palms feeling sweaty. The drive here had been full of nerves. He swore his hands were on 11 and 3 this time.

Calm down. Deep breath. Everything would be fine.

A kind woman greeted him at the door.

“Welcome to Euphoria Jewelers. How can I help you?”

“I want to buy a ring.”

[mint-yooxgi]

{4} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa, Yunho, & Yeosang)

Words: 9,390

Warnings: Petty jealousy, nasty comments and name calling, slut shaming (not done by any of the guys). Minor violence, blood mentioned and the use of it to smear against someones's back in a show of dominance, unconventional cleaning of wounds. The later half of this chapter isn't edited, so please excuse any weird mistakes. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is!!! The next part!!! I'm very excited for this chapter, and the following ones to come. I have a feeling a lot of people are going to enjoy the next one a lot *wink, wink* hehehe, anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

A vast expanse of red and golden rocks stretches on before you as soon as you transport to the harpy’s nest. The badlands are dry, raising at odd peaks which round out above your head as the sun shines in a cloudless sky. You can practically see the heat rising off of the stones as you shift your gaze, three males surrounding you.

“Their nest lies beneath the ground,” Yunho explains. “We just need to await their messenger.”

You nod your understanding. “I know this is way off, but I am so tempted to make a joke about hunting for dinosaur bones right now.”

“The only carcasses you’ll find here are from last weeks' hunts.” A feminine voice sounds from between the hoodoos. “I apologize for Riza making you wait to be seen. You should have been invited to appear inside.”

The woman is beautiful, there’s no doubt about it as she steps into your line of sight. Her skin is a pale blue, a stark contrast to the red hue of the stones surrounding her. Feathers line her arms, bright red in colour to match her hair which falls nearly to her waist. Her arms are crossed, and on the tips of her fingers, you can just make out the faintest outline of claws.

“Wow.” You cannot help the breath that escapes you in awe.

The smile she sends your way is polite, albeit apologetic, and you notice short, pointy teeth lining the inside of her gums. It appears as if there are two rows on top, the front slightly shorter than the back, and only one row on the bottom.

“These three know me, but allow me to introduce myself now,” she addresses you fully. “My name is Rita, the youngest of the harpy sisters. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She inclines her head in your direction, blinking at you lightly with dark brown eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You incline your head back, introducing yourself as well.

She smiles. “If the four of you would follow me, we can get this meeting underway. My sisters are waiting for us inside.”

Immediately, she begins to lead you all deep into the heart of the badlands, beginning to descend into an opening with crystals lighting the way. You notice she hardly spares a glance in Seonghwa’s direction, and his shoulders seem to relax the more time passes without her making a comment his way. 

You hum lowly to yourself, noticing Yeosang quirk a brow in your direction subtly. A second later and you’re leaning slightly into Seonghwa. “I understand.”

It’s slight, but his breath catches in his throat, a nervous smile being sent your way.

The deeper into the tunnel you descend, the more you notice other harpies peeking their heads out to look at you. All of them seem to have that same pale blue skin that glimmers beneath the light of the crystals, along with vibrantly coloured hair and wings. Some have their feathers lining their arms, while others have large wings which protrude from their backs. There are even some with more bird-like features, including beaks and plumage around their necks and eyes, highlighting their sharp gazes and pointed teeth.

“They’re just in the main chamber,” Rita says, leading you through a separate hallway once the path diverges. “I honestly don’t know why they insisted to wait inside. We literally could have taken all of five minutes to come to an agreement, but you know my sisters. Always have a flare for the dramatics.”

You can’t see her face, but you bet more than anything she’s just rolled her eyes.

“My apologies for that,” she mumbles, a slight sigh escaping her lips.

Reaching the end of the hall, Rita pushes open a large set of double doors. Stepping through, she doesn’t bother to close them as more harpies begin to fill out the grand hall where you see three thrones near the front. Two thrones are currently occupied by a female each whom both seem to be chatting with a third person, but harpy they are not. At least, not with the way their hair seems to slither and hiss with every movement they make.

“Rika! Riza! Will you act like the leaders you are and greet our guests?” Rita clicks her tongue, shaking her head in clear annoyance.

The two harpies sitting on their own respective thrones straighten slightly. The one on the middle throne immediately locks on to Seonghwa, a sultry pull of her lips upwards as she sits forwards. Her bright green wings twitch in excitement behind her, hands grasping the arms of her chair for support. Her dark brown hair, almost black, falls to her shoulders, and she’s quick to brush some strands out of her eyes.

The other, with deep purple feathers trailing down the skin of her arms looks you all over, a curt nod being sent your way in greeting before she’s turning back to the gorgon in front of her. She has bright orange hair, cropped short to her head and styled in every direction messily, but it suits her well.

“Oh,” the one on the middle throne seems to flick her gaze over to you for the briefest of moments, nothing but a look of disinterest crossing her features, “you’re here.”

“Nice to meet you,” the other one gives a tight smile in your direction. “I’m Rika, the middle sister, and this is Riza. The eldest. You’ve met Rita already, but we’re the harpy sisters.”

“Thank you for hosting us today.” You incline your head, introducing yourself quickly afterwards.

Riza snorts, rolling her eyes quite pointedly as she leans back in her seat. “Save the diplomacy, we all know why you’re here.”

Yeosang’s eyebrow twitches, Yunho exhaling a low breath as he crosses his arms over his chest. Seonghwa goes to take a step forward, but your hand on his shoulder stops him. A movement of which you notice causes Riza’s eyes to narrow where your skin makes contact with his.

“Always such a warm welcome with you.” Seonghwa huffs, not bothering to hide his irritation.

“For you?” Riza leans forward, that sultry smirk pulling onto her lips once more. “Always.”

You cannot prevent the way your eyebrows raise in response, eyes widening slightly as you blink in disbelief.

“I apologize for my sisters,” Rita directs her comment at you, another sigh escaping her as she shakes her head. “They aren’t usually like this.”

“This is the coldest greeting we’ve ever gotten from you.” Yeosang observes, tone cool and calculating as his gaze flicks over the two sisters still sitting on the thrones before you all.

Your brow quirks, gaze darting between the three sisters before you.

“Bring better company next time.” Rika shrugs, turning her attention back to the gorgon before her.

Yunho takes a deep breath to steady his building rage, but at one small brush from you against his mind, he manages to calm himself enough to stay where he is.

“Didn’t realize this meeting was for an approval committee.” You deadpan, shrugging cooly in the next second. “Not that your opinion of me matters all that much.”

“You seem to regard yourself highly.” Riza huffs, clearly unimpressed.

“I’m not one to waste my time bragging to someone who hasn’t learned the difference between incompetence and imbecile.” You shrug, and you hear Rita snort out a laugh from your left. “You’re a leader, aren’t you? Learn some respect before you demand it.”

“Oh, I like you!” Rita points at you eagerly, noticing her eldest sister practically fuming in her seat.

“Well, so far, you’re my favourite.” You turn to her, grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “You must be the head sister. You’re certainly the most mature out of the three of you.”

You notice both Riza’s and Rika’s feathers flare in irritation.

“I’m glad someone’s noticed,” Rita grins right back, back straightening as she stands a bit prouder than before. You swear a pleased coo escapes her, too.

“Oh, shut up, Rita,” Rika rolls her eyes. “You literally fall to your knees for the first person who praises you.”

You turn to Rita, brow quirking playfully. “Praise is rather flattering when it’s earned, juxtaposed to an air of preeminence.”

“Not our fault it’s a great ego boost.” Rita crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head quite sassily at her sisters.

“You’re agreeing with the human who just insulted us?” Riza scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her throne. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she’s sulking. You particularly don’t appreciate the way her gaze keeps flicking over to Seonghwa, hoping for both his acceptance and support.

“Don’t dish out what you can’t dish in.” You shrug casually. “I really don’t have time for petty jealousy.”

“Me, jealous of you?” Riza replies, incredulously. “As if!”

You lean slightly into Yeosang’s side. “How old did you say they were again?”

“What does our age have to do with anything?” Rika frowns, staring down at you from her throne.

“You two are acting like young human teenagers.” You shrug, somewhat nonchalantly. “I thought I left that shit back in high school.”

“You’re really going to let her talk to us like that?” Riza shifts her gaze between the three males beside you, purposely leaving Seonghwa for last so she can stare at him with mock hurt in her eyes the longest. “Do I mean nothing to you?”

The way your breath catches in your throat does not go unnoticed by any of them. You stiffen, and it’s Yeosang who places a comforting hand onto your lower back.

Rika smirks.

“We’ve already dealt with the jealous ex, we don’t need another.” Seonghwa states, rather bluntly as his scrutinizing gaze trails over Riza’s figure. “Not that you could even be considered an ex. We were never together.”

“Yet, you kept coming back for more.” The way she smirks is nothing short of malicious, especially when she turns to look down her nose at you.

You bite your tongue to keep the retort you have building within you from escaping your lips. Only, it’s as if your void has slipped, and Seonghwa has read your mind.

“But am I with you now?” He quirks a brow, a clear look of skepticism on his face.

“You could be.” She hums, a sultry look pulling onto her features as she practically spreads herself out on her throne for him. Almost as if she’s trying to entice him in every and any way she can.

You cannot hide your appall as you blink up at her in disbelief. Your lips part slightly as your eyebrows raise, your head tilting the slightest bit to the side.

The entire room is silent, both Rita, Rika, and the gorgon looking between both you and Riza periodically. It’s as if they are waiting for a bomb to drop, noticing the way the three males practically shake in rage beside you.

“Oh, sweetie,” you shake your head, tutting all the while. “Desperation isn’t a good look on you. Frankly, it’s embarrassing. You’re the eldest of the harpy sisters? Really? I’ve met dogs with more manners than you.”

“Did you just call me a fucking bitch?” She stands from her seat so quickly, you swear it almost topples to the ground as her feathers ruffle.

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug, nonchalantly.

“You come into my home-“

“You insulted her first, Riza.” Rita cuts in, stepping in before her sister can swoop down upon you from her position atop her throne. “Not everyone is going to put up with your shit.”

“It’s about time someone put you in your place.” Rika chuckles, standing from her own throne and descending the steps to stand before you. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for my sister’s eccentric behaviour.”

“Older sisters,” you huff out an amused breath, lips quirking at the corners. “Am I right?”

“Literally, you could not be more correct.” Rita nods along with your words, quite enthusiastically.

“Hey!” Rika shifts to ruffle her younger sister’s hair. “It’s not like you’re a pile of daisies, either!”

“Don’t we have things to discuss?” Riza calls, irritation clear on her face as she glides down from her throne to join the two of her sisters standing before you.

“We do.” Yunho replies, quite sharply. There’s no hiding the irritation on his face, that all too familiar darkness swirling within as he glares at Riza for the moment.

“I see Sudaem has already arrived.” Yeosang shoots a pointed look towards the gorgon still standing off to the side.

“Unlike some, she’s actually welcome here.” Riza replies, somewhat pointedly in your direction.

The three males don’t even attempt to suppress their growls any longer. If Riza is going to throw all sense of diplomacy out of the window, then so are they.

“Riza.” Rita hisses, smacking her sister harshly on her arm.

“Sudaem is our friend, and also the current leader of the gorgons.” Rika informs you, a light smile pulling at her features - her way of easing the sudden tension between all of you.

You notice the gorgon tilt her head in your direction when she senses your gaze on her. You bow back, a small, polite smile gracing your own features.

“She was worried Jongho was going to be attending the meeting.” Rita says, causing your eyebrow to quirk at the almost dreamy way she speaks his name. “He scalped their last leader.”

“Yeah, cause she tried to assassinate us.” Seonghwa retorts, his entire body tense as he stands beside you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Riza inching closer to him.

“Talk shit, get hit.” You blink, turning back to the three sisters in front of you.

“Oh, I really like you.” Rita grins, her fangs on full display.

“You’re nothing special.” Riza mumbles, now being the sister standing the closest to Seonghwa.

Faintly, you register the side of her wing brush against his arm. 

Irritation flashes in his eyes as he steps away, shifting closer to you for the moment.

This time, you don’t even react when the eldest sister says this, turning back to face Sudaem.

“You’re still contemplating whether to join the alliance, right?” Once she nods, you continue. “Then, join us. We’ve got a lot to discuss. This affects you as much as them right now.”

“I thought we were already in agreement to join you?” Rita frowns, looking between her older sisters for the moment.

“After the way this one,” Riza jerks her chin in your direction, “has treated me, I’m having second thoughts.”

“Riza, can it.” Rika shoots her sister a sharp look. “No one wants to listen to you whine.”

The eldest harpy huffs in response, a subtle pout tugging at her lips. Again, she shifts closer to Seonghwa, almost as if she’s hoping he’ll comfort her.

Her wing brushes tenderly against his shoulder, and this time, he shoots her a dark look. He eyes her figure pointedly, disgust pulling at his features. “Don’t touch me.”

Riza clearly looks taken aback by the malice in his tone. Enough so, that she retracts her wing. For now.

“So, this alliance,” Rika begins once Sudaem has joined the seven of you. “You mentioned we’d be going up against Malik, and the sorcerer Dimitri?”

“Yes.” Yunho confirms with a nod. “Miyeon convinced Malik to stage that coup twenty years ago, and now we’re seeing all the uprisings her little rebellion cause has started. They’re determined to make a ‘New World’ for all. Dimitri has simply been caught in the crossfire: he’s suffering under mental manipulation from her, even after her death.”

“You mean you haven’t freed him, yet?” Riza quirks a skeptical brow in his direction, clearly unimpressed.

The way Yunho purses his lips does not go unnoticed by you. You frown.

“You’re weaker than I remember.” She hums, beginning to pick at her nails.

“Don’t you dare speak down to him.” Your brow is furrowed, eyes blazing with a building rage. 

You can handle insults being thrown your way just fine, but the moment something is said against someone you love, you have a little bit more of a difficult time controlling yourself. You have half the mind to tell Yunho to fuck with her own mind right now, but you’re not that petty. Yet.

“Riza, he could tear you apart in an instant if he wanted to.” Rita reminds her eldest sister.

“We’ll just call San to do it.” Yeosang shrugs, noticing how all three of the sisters seem to stiffen slightly in fear.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Riza feigns confidence, scoffing in disbelief.

Again, she attempts to move closer to Seonghwa.

A blink and you’ve wrapped your arm around his waist, pulling him into your side and away from her. Her arm just misses brushing his, but from the faint rumble you can feel emanate from his chest, you know that he’s far too caught up in the feeling of you holding him against you to notice. 

Seonghwa practically melts into your touch, immediately wrapping his own arm around your waist as Yeosang removes his hand from your lower back for the moment. The eldest can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a certain pride swirling within as your actions wash over him. You wanted to protect him.

Perhaps his fantasies are coming true. Maybe, just maybe, you are jealous.

Riza scowls, but you simply raise a brow in her direction. If she wants to challenge you, and disregard Seonghwa’s own boundaries, you are more than happy to remind her of her place.

“You said they have an army?” Rika draws your attention back to her as she asks this.

“Dimitri’s sorcerers and hunters for one. Plus, all of the demons that have pledged their loyalty to Miyeon and Malik’s cause.” Seonghwa replies, briefly filling them in on all of their other allies, too.

“Damn sirens.” Sudaem scowls, her hair hissing along with her. “Greedy bastards. Never content with just one thing.”

“No wonder Miyeon propositioned them with an alliance, then.” You huff dryly, shaking your head.

“Did she ever try to attack you herself?” Rita asks, meeting your gaze curiously.

Your lips purse, shoulders tensing slightly. A fact which you know the harpy beside Seonghwa notices.

“Multiple times.” You say, steeling your features for the moment as you attempt to keep your voice from shaking. “She succeeded once.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rita’s expression drops, worry taking over her features as she notices how tense the three males become beside you. “The few times I had the displeasure of meeting her were rough. I can only imagine what she was like with a personal vendetta against you.”

“No one deserves that.” Rika agrees, concern shining in her eyes as she notices you swallow thickly.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You tilt your head in acknowledgement to their words, your lips quirking upwards slightly despite the smile being tight.

Riza seems to hum in disappointment beside you, and you notice Yeosang’s hands twitch at his side.

“Our magic should be more than enough to combat the sorcerers.” Rita continues, looking directly at you as she says this. “After all, their spells don’t work against us.”

“They don’t?” There’s clear wonder in your voice, eyes lighting up as you meet her gaze.

“You mean you didn’t tell her about us?” Riza huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You weren’t important enough to mention.” Seonghwa states, rather bluntly as his sharp eyes dart beside him.

Her jaw clenches, clearly irritated by his response.

Rika chuckles. “To answer your question: yes. We can’t cast any spells of our own, but we have magic flowing through our blood all the same. Witches and warlocks do not affect us in any way, unless they choose to physically attack us.”

“That’s really cool!” You say, eyes lighting up in awe. “Having your own immunity to magic must come in really handy.”

“For sure!” Rita nods enthusiastically along with your words. “It’s like having a built in forcefield around us at all times.”

“Do you feel it if a spell gets deflected off of you, or is it undetectable when magic is used against you?” You ask, that curious gleam ever so prominent in your eyes.

A look which three males know all too well, and despite the irritation they feel towards a certain sister, they all cannot help the way fond smiles begin to pull at their lips while looking at you. It’s nice to know that you’re still curious about their world, and that you want to know more about the different creatures that reside within them. They would tell you themselves, but what better way to learn than from that species themselves?

“Sometimes we feel it, and other times we don’t.” Rika answers, a smile pulling at her features as she sees you turn your bright gaze towards her. “It depends on the level of the spell, the intricacy in it’s casting, and the power of the wielder.”

“Though, only those with casting magic in their veins can perform spells.” Rita adds. “If there’s no trace, the spell won’t work.”

“A caster doesn’t even need to have any training for a spell to work for them.” Sudaem chimes in. “Though, it depends on how much stored magic said castor has. If it’s a high level spell, like summoning or inflicting damage on an opponent, then they have to come from a strong line of casters.”

You blink, as if realizing something. Subtly, your grip tightens around Seonghwa’s waist.

“Sorry, can we just pause for a second.” You raise your free hand in the air. “You just said that a caster can performs spells properly without knowing as long as they have powerful magic stored within them?”

Riza rolls her eyes, mumbling how you need better comprehension skills. You ignore her, as do the others for now.

“Yes.” Sudaem nods, meeting your gaze. “That is correct.”

“So, say someone read from a ‘book of spells’,” you put those words in air quotes for the moment, “for fun, but it actually worked. That means that person has casting magic lineage?”

Realization crosses the three male’s faces, eyes going wide at what this means.

“Most likely.” Rika confirms with a blink.

“Why? Do you know someone who is unaware they can cast spells?” Rita’s brow furrows, head tilting in curiosity at you.

You look between the three males surrounding you, amusement dancing in your gaze. “My best friend is a witch, and none of you bothered to tell me.”

“Your best friend?” Sudaem’s brow furrows slightly. “Did she summon them or something?”

“You could say that.” You reply, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Summoned, how?” She presses, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. “Physically?”

“No, not physically.” Seonghwa answers for you. “It was only through a mirror at first.”

A snort of laughter is heard from off to your left. “Weak ass witch could only summon you through mirrors?”

Again, you ignore her, but that doesn’t stop your brow from twitching in irritation.

“Do you remember the name of the tome you used?” Sudaem meets your gaze.

“Uh…” you grimace slightly. “No, I do not. My apologies.”

“There’s only two clans of casters that are powerful enough to summon the Eight Kings.” Rita shifts her gaze between all four of you standing before her. “What’s your friend’s clan name?”

“Clan name?” Your brow furrows before realization crosses your features. “Oh, her last name is Ciervo.”

A brief look is shared between Sudaem, Rita, and Rika. Even the three males seem surprised by this revelation, for you’ve never spoken your best friend’s last name in front of them before.

“Has she ever discussed her magic abilities with you?” Rika turns back to face you, running a hand through her hair and causing the spikes to stick up in new directions.

“I didn’t even know she had them.” You reply, somewhat in awe as you blink.

“You didn’t know your best friend is apart of one of the most powerful caster clans in the realm?” Sudaem frowns slightly, nothing but a meek curiosity in her gaze.

“I don’t think even she is aware of it.” You exhale a low breath. A second later, you meet Sudaem’s gaze. “How do you know so much about casters?”

“Subject of interest.” She shrugs lightheartedly, a bashful chuckle escaping her shortly afterwards as she smiles.

“Our dear Sudaem here has been attempting to impress the head of the Sintra clan for years.” Rita affectionately wraps an arm around the gorgon’s shoulders, shaking her lightly.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t seem to be working.” The gorgon grumbles, looking down at her feet.

“Their loss, then.” You hum, and you notice her head whip up to look in your direction.

“You think so?” She meets your gaze, a sort of hidden hope shining behind her eyes.

“Anyone who puts in that amount of dedication to learn something about the person they like is definitely worthy of praise in my books.” You smile at her, nodding your head all the while. “Don’t waste your time on someone who sounds like they don’t deserve your energy. You’re better than that. You deserve better than that.”

She averts her gaze somewhat bashfully, only causing your heart to warm.

“If you have anymore questions, just let me know.” Sudaem mumbles, her hair swaying softly around her as the serpents coo affectionately.

“Oh, boy! Do I ever!” You immediately perk up, and loving chuckles are falling from Yunho’s, Yeosang’s, and Seonghwa’s lips. “Though, I don’t want any of my questions to come across as rude, or potentially ignorant.”

“Go for it,” Rika shrugs, straightening out her shirt for the moment. “If what you’ve said about them not telling you shit about us is true, you must be curious.”

“You honestly have no idea,” you breathe, meeting her gaze.

“Then, ask away!” Rita encourages you with a soft smile.

“Okay, this might be really ignorant of me,” you turn to face Sudaem once more, “but isn’t your gaze supposed to be able to turn people to stone?”

The one corner of her lips quirks upwards. “It does.”

Your eyes widen in awe, but before you can ask, she continues.

“We have a second set of lids that cover our eyes like a film. We can retract them at any time to allow our cold gaze to freeze anyone we see fit.” She explains. “It’s clear, so you don’t notice it, but if you know what to look for, you’ll be able to tell when it’s there.”

“That’s so cool!” Your lips part, a pure look of wonder on your features as you gaze at her. “I’m still wrapping my head around learning that all of these incredible species I’ve long since believed to be mythological are real. It’s incredible, and I’m honoured to be in your presence.”

Again, you incline your head in their direction, and you notice the smiles stretching wider on Rita’s, Rika’s, and Sudaem’s faces. Hell, even the corner of Riza’s lips twitch upwards.

“You should have seen her when she met the dragons.” Seonghwa hums, nothing but pure affection dripping from both his tone and gaze as he shifts to look at you.

“Apparently, she left quite the impression. The babies imprinted on her.” Yunho adds, pride clear in the way he stands a little straighter.

“We heard Wyno gave you her blessing.” Sudaem comments, her own eyes lighting up in awe. “That’s incredible!”

This time, it’s your turn for your cheeks to warm. Averting your gaze to the floor, you mumble out a ‘thank you’.

“It’s been over one hundred years since the alpha of the dragons has granted anyone her blessing.” Rika comments, clearly impressed. “You must both be extremely special, and have done something incredibly selfless to earn that bond.”

“She did.” Seonghwa confirms, a hint of roughness to his voice.

You squeeze him tighter.

“She is.” Yeosang adds, his loving gaze turning to focus on you as you briefly meet his own. 

The smile you share is nothing short of tender, and you faintly hear some soft cooing coming from around the room. Your audience seems to be able to pick up the amount of love you have between you and Your Kings, and even Sudaem, and The Three Sisters all have to admit that your bonds are obvious.

Riza’s expression falls.

“I have been allowed to thrive thanks to them, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You admit, heart swelling in your chest at your own words. You speak nothing but the truth, and every person in that chamber can tell.

Three content hums from Your Kings greet your ears, each of them taking the time to brush tenderly against your void.

Sudaem smiles. “Do you have any more questions for me?”

You turn back to her, eyes lighting up with that familiar spark of curiosity. “Do I ever!”

Her whole demeanour perks up. Ever her serpents hiss excitedly.

“So, with the dual lids, do they change your eye colour at all?” You ask.

“Slightly.” Sudaem confirms. “Our natural eye colour is slate toned, but the lid makes them lighter. Would you like to see? I can’t show you my true eyes, lest you be turned to stone, but I can show you a half comparison.”

“If you’re okay with that!” You nod eagerly.

A few steps and she’s in front of you. The way her serpents slither to rest behind her shoulders to make you more comfortable as she gets closer warms your heart. Slowly, she leans in, and you watch her eyes as a clear film begins to shift over the one pupil. It raises about halfway before stopping, and you can see the bottom half of her iris is a slight shade darker than the top half.

“Wow.” Your lips part in awe, blinking a few times as you both lean away from each other once more. “That’s incredible!”

“Thank you.” Sudaem returns to her original spot, clasping her hands bashfully over the front of her body.

“Oh,” Rita teasingly wraps her arm around the gorgon’s shoulders, shaking her lightly, “someone’s getting shy.”

“Shut up.” Sudaem mumbles, her hands beginning to fiddle with each other, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Aw, our little Sudaemie is gonna develop another crush,” Rika joins in on the teasing, moving over to poke the aforementioned female’s cheek affectionately. “How will I ever survive my love leaving me for yet another?”

The way you see the serpents on her head begin to playfully nip at Rika’s finger has you laughing. You can just tell how close friends they all are.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Riza remaining oddly quiet for the moment. Her own gaze is calculating, never once leaving Seonghwa’s profile as she studies him from head to toe. The way your hand still rests comfortably on his hip has her pursing her lips.

“You three remind me of Reina and I.” You grin, failing to notice how the three males grin slightly along with you. “Teasing and all.”

“You mean you purposely continue to flirt with others despite being in a relationship?” Riza cuts in, clear malice on her features as she feigns shock. “Kings need someone loyal to them, not an ugly whore who spreads her legs for the first thing that gives her attention.”

Both Yeosang and Seonghwa nearly lunge at her right then and there. Only, your hand raising in front of all of them prevents either male from doing so.

“You certainly have a lot of pride for someone attempting to be a home wrecker.” You reply, somewhat bluntly. “You clearly have your own personal vendetta against me, and I’ve already dealt with someone much worse than you. You’re about as intimidating to me as a chicken.” You sigh, shaking your head before pretending to think about it. “Actually, no. At least chickens are intimidating.”

Rita bursts into laughter almost immediately after the words are out of your mouth, slapping her eldest sister playfully on her arm. Even Rika has a difficult time muffling her laughter, while Sudaem can barely contain her own.

“If all you’re going to do is stand there and insult me, I’d really rather you get it all out of your system now.” You motion her towards you, clearly unimpressed by her. “I’m sure the King you’re trying to impress will love you threatening His Queen, seeing as it worked out so well for the last one.”

Her wings flare out in irritation behind her, scowl pulling at her features.

“At least I’m not some weak, pathetic mortal who needs saving every ten minutes.” Riza spits, taking a threatening step towards you.

Only, you perceive it as her wanting to get closer to Seonghwa again, given the way she goes to reach for him. So, you do what you feel is best: you push him behind you as you fully turn to face the harpy beside you.

“Sorry, how long have we been talking?” You tilt your head, almost mockingly at her. 

If she’s going to continue to be a bitch, then you’ll gladly match her energy.

Immediately, her wings spread out behind her in attempts to intimidate you. You can see the irritation shining clear as day on her features, fingers flexing at her sides as her claws glint in the light.

The way you hear all three males growl warningly behind you lets you know that her flaring her wings like that holds some deeper significance. The next words you hear only serve to confirm that fact.

“Riza, not the wings.” Rika warns lowly as a commotion begins to stir within that chamber.

All of the other harpies present begin to whisper, their feathers ruffling as more enter to see what all the fuss is about. A few even go so far as to take off into the air, hovering around to get a better view of the action that might be about to take place.

“Don’t challenge her.” Rita adds, a hint of worry shining in her eyes as she sees the dark gazes of the three males behind you.

“No, if this wannabe Queen wants to come into our home, and insult me, then she should expect retaliation.” Riza spits, rather harshly. “I’m not going to stand here and take this disrespect.”

“Riza, you’re being a huge hypocrite right now.” Sudaem grimaces, glancing between her friend and the three Kings whose black eyes are all on full display. Her serpents hiss nervously, shifting restlessly over her head.

“Can it, Sudaem.” Riza hisses, feathers ruffling as her wings flare once more. “This is between me and her.”

“I literally never took issue with you to begin with.” Your tone is blunt, a bored sigh escaping you. “You’re the one who’s had it out for me since we walked in here. Just get it all out now, I’d really rather not have issues on the battlefield.”

“Who says we’re going to align with you?” Riza’s fingers twitch once more, snarl pulling at her lips.

“So, you’ve wasted all of our time.” You nod your understanding. “Good to know.”

“No, wait! Please!” Rita reaches out for you before stopping herself. With how tense the three males look beside you, the last thing she wants to do is actually touch you. Who knows how they might react. “We’ll align with you! We have in the past, and if the sirens have truly agreed to fight with Malik, then our friends in the gorgon territories aren’t safe!”

“You’ve had my allegiance since you mentioned that fact. Besides, I really like you.” Sudaem nods firmly in agreement. “We’ll support you in any upcoming battles.”

“Thank you. That is very much appreciated.” You smile at the three other women off to your right.

They all smile back, shoulders slightly drooping in relief as they believe this issue to be resolved. Only, you know better. 

Riza still does not back down.

“Well, since we’ve now done what we came to do,” you incline your head respectfully to the two younger harpy sisters, as well as Sudaem. “We’ll take our leave now.”

“Thank you for meeting with us.” Rita bows to you, along with Rika and Sudaem. “I would extend an offer to return, but not until out eldest here learns some manners.”

Riza’s nostrils flare, “how dare you sister-“

“Can it, Riza.” Rika’s eyes narrow at the female. “Don’t shame us any further because you want to fuck her King one last time.”

The harpy purses her lips, smartly remaining quiet for the moment. From the way her wings twitch, though, you can tell she has more to say.

“We’ll be in touch,” Yeosang states, rather bluntly. “Be ready for anything.”

“We will.” Rika nods, Sudaem and Rita adding their agreement.

“I’ll walk you out.” Rita practically skips over to you, a joyful glint in her eyes as she smiles your way.

“I would enjoy that very much.” You return her expression.

Shifting back to the open doors of the chamber, you begin to make your way back out of the caves. Your right hand comes to settle on Seonghwa’s lower back, an added protection and assurance for both you and him against that piercing gaze you can feel watching your every movement.

You get all of two steps before a loud huff is heard from behind you.

“Wait.” The voice is calmer than before, but still urgent, desperate in a way.

You feel it long before you register what has actually happened. You had been expecting something like this, anyways. Considering the way Riza couldn’t resist continuously reaching out for him, you knew she would most likely try one last time.

Your hand is around her wrist before the tips of her fingers can ever graze Seonghwa’s back. There is an unbridled fury burning behind your eyes as you meet her own, shock clear on her features. With a brief look around the room, you know she’s not the only one.

“I though he told you to stop touching him.” Your voice is deadly; calm in the way a storm is before it hits.

Riza’s wings flare out behind her once more, feathers expanding to make herself appear bigger as all eyes are on the two of you. Even the males can only watch on, a certain sense of pride and smugness welling within as they observe the scene. Yet, none are as affected as Seonghwa is.

You protected him. You defended him, and made sure this damn harpy knew her place. Despite the tension and rough patches in your relationship, you chose to fight for him. A fact which sets his entire body alight, soul blazing with that all too familiar burning desire and love he always feels when he looks at you.

Nothing could have ever prepared him for this.

“Don’t touch me!” Riza seethes, ripping her wrist out of your grip and managing to catch the skin of your palm with her nails.

Blood begins to drip onto the floor of the chamber, and the three males cannot contain the threatening snarls that escape them. Long since have their eyes flashed black, immediately shifting into offensive stances as they stare down the eldest harpy before them.

Alliance be damn, she just hurt their Queen.

“Oh, so you are aware of the notion of consent.” You hum, nodding to yourself as if you’ve just learnt something astounding.

“You bitch!” She lunges. 

A screech tears from her in a blinding rage, her claws extending as she reaches for your throat.

The only assurance the three males get is you calmly brushing against their minds.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve flipped the eldest harpy over your shoulder, implementing the training both San and Jongho have taught you this past week. The fact that Riza doesn’t expect you to do this works to your advantage, momentarily stunning her, and using her own momentum against her.

She flips herself onto her stomach, attempting to lift herself back to her feet. Only, she doesn’t get very far.

Riza is forced to the ground, her face in the dirt as you step on her back, right between her wings. Each of your hands grip at the plumage of her feathers harshly, the bones groaning from the strain. Subtly, you lean in to her as you press her into the ground, your blood staining her bright feathers red.

“Get off of me!” She shrieks, arms trying, and failing to push her up from the ground. Your hold on her is too strong, and besides, every time she moves around too much, you tug on her wings, pain filled cries escaping her in tandem.

“Why should I adhere to your wishes when you continuously disrespect My King’s?” You hum, feigning innocence as you tilt your head mockingly down at her. “You challenged me first. I’m simply answering the call.”

Whispers reach your ears from around the room, overhearing some of the harpies whispering about how Riza did flare her wings at you earlier. From what you can gather, the eldest harpy sister has garnered no sympathy from the crowd.

“You wanted to test my patience. Now, you have to suffer the consequences.” You spit, tugging firmly on her wings yet again as she cries out for someone, anyone to help her. “Do not touch what isn’t yours, Riza.”

You lean in closer, dragging your foot purposely down her spine as your injured hand comes to rest between her shoulder blades. Squeezing your hand into a fist, you purposely let your blood drip onto her skin, smearing between the space between her wings as a crazed look takes over your features.

“Let this serve as your reminder,” you begin, voice booming around the room as you command everyone’s attention. “I am not some weak, pathetic mortal that you can walk all over and treat however you please. If you strike me, I will strike back. If you so much as lay a finger on someone I love without their permission, it will be the last thing you ever do. I only have respect for those who respect me, and if you ever disrespect My Kings, or me, their Queen, again, I will not be so forgiving.”

Shoving yourself off of her, you step back. Making a show of it, you wipe your hands together, cracking your neck all the while. 

Your eyes flash. “Do not test me again.”

A silence so still settles over that chamber as you step away from the stunned harpy on the floor. Turning back towards the two younger sisters and Sudaem, you notice them tense as your fiery gaze meets their own. Firmly, you incline your head.

“Thanks again for today.” Your voice is somewhat gruff as you step back over to your three Kings. “We’ll be in touch.”

The moment those words escape your lips, Seonghwa’s hand is on your lower back. You can feel the way he physically trembles as his fingers press into your skin, immediately transporting you home. The foyer greets you in the blink of your eyes, and you let out a long sigh.

The others appear instantly, having both heard your sigh, and smelt your blood.

“What happened?” The worry is clear on San’s features, the memory of the first time you came back from visiting the dragons flashing through all of their minds.

“Nothing.” Your reply is short, tone pointed as you swallow thickly. 

Jongho takes a step closer to assess your hand.

“I’m fine.” You raise your palm to him, the cuts now on full display.

“You’re clearly not fine, My Love,” Hongjoong’s brow creases in worry as he grabs your bleeding hand in his own. A single thought prevents him from healing you for now, instead choosing to take the pain away for as long as he can. He turns to the three males standing across from them. “What happened?”

Both Yeosang and Yunho share a look between each other, the corners of their lips twitching upwards seeing as the eldest cannot form a coherent sentence. A few words later, and they’re sharing their most recent memory of you putting that damn harpy in her place from mere minutes ago.

Seonghwa’s chest heaves, breathing ragged as he cannot tear his eyes from you. Hongjoong’s arm is currently wrapped around you waist in comfort, and the elder male cannot help the way his jaw twitches in slight irritation. That should be him right now. You protected his honour, and now, all he wants to do is worship you. He wants to show you how grateful he is, and show you just how much what you did for him means to him.

More than all of that, though, he wants to pull you into his arms and tell you how you just made him feel.

The warmth flooding his veins sets his skin tingling, electricity coursing through his very soul as he continues to stare at you. His eyes are hooded, nothing but that familiar darkness swirling within his gaze for you as he attempts to control himself for the moment. The fact that you went out of your way, not once, not twice, but three times to protect him today has an ecstasy unlike ever before running through him.

All he wants to do is please you. To show his Queen how grateful her King is for her very existence.

After all, it’s what he’s always wanted. It’s what you’ve always deserved.

Your voice manages to pull him out of his thoughts, grounding him to the very reality before him.

“I’m not jealous, I’m angry.” You seethe, pacing rather pointedly back and forth. “I’m fucking angry that that chicken-“ Mingi and Wooyoung both snort in laughter at this, “had the audacity to disrespect My King’s boundaries. Multiple times.”

“How do you think we felt, listening to her insult you the whole time?” Yunho hums knowingly, Yeosang quickly agreeing with him.

“Oh, insults I can handle.” You freeze in your spot as you turn to look at him. “After the shit I went through with Miyeon, I can handle some petty comments thrown my way. But the moment, the fucking moment those comments or actions get turned on any of you?”

If you were holding onto something, you would have already thrown it at the wall in attempts to dispel some of your anger.

The eight males straighten all around you, low, pleased growls emanating from their chests.

“I doubt that chicken will do anything else to you now, Angel.” Wooyoung chuckles affectionately, stepping towards you and wrapping you in his arms. “You’ve really put her in her place.”

“Yeah, and smearing your own blood over her back where her wings protrude?” San whistles lowly. “Power move.”

“I wish I could have been there to see it first hand.” Mingi sighs, almost wistfully.

“It was certainly a pleasant sight to see.” Yunho grins, eyes shining with that fondness you’ve become so used to from him. Not only that, but the way you can see that same pride lingering within sets your heart racing inside your chest. 

A look you know is mirrored on all of their faces.

“Looks like all that training is coming to fruition much sooner than we thought.” Jongho wears a smug look on his face, chest rumbling in content as his hooded gaze zeroes in on your every move.

“How did it feel, Baby?” San asks, taking a step closer to you to join Wooyoung in holding you in his arms. “How did it feel to put that bitch in her place?”

You turn to him, sparing a glance out of the corner of your eyes as you finally get your breathing under control for the moment. Gently, your hand comes up to rest on the skin of his forearm, grounding yourself as you avert your gaze to the floor.

“Amazing.” You breathe, voice barely above a whisper as you shift your gaze up to meet Seonghwa’s eyes across from you. “Like it has always been what I’m meant to be.”

“And what is that, My Love?” Hongjoong asks, an eager gleam shining within his gaze. A look which he knows is mirrored on all of his brother’s faces right now as they watch you intently, hearts beating erratically within their chests.

Your back straightens and you take a deep breath in.

“Your Queen.”

Eight pleased snarls greet you in response, Wooyoung going as far as to affectionately nuzzle his face into the side of your neck. Even San’s grip on you tightens, but you’re slipping out of their hold in the next second. Much too soon for either of the two male’s liking.

This whole time, Seonghwa has yet to stop trembling. His eyes track your every movement as you approach him, shamelessly leaning into your touch the moment you reach up to cup his cheek.

For a moment, nothing is said between you. The silence is calm, welcome as you search his face. For what, you’re not quite sure, but the way you trail your hand down to grasp his own, tugging him towards your room for the time being, Seonghwa knows that everything will be okay.

The others don’t bother to stop you, nor do they say anything as you walk passed them. Even Kuroo seems to be nowhere in sight as you shut the door gently behind the two of you.

Softly, you guide him over to your bed, sitting with him on the edge of your mattress. A blink, and your hand is back on his cheek.

“Mars,” the way you call his name, so tenderly and full of nothing but love for him as your eyes fill with concern has a shudder caressing his spine. “Are you okay?”

He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he absolutely revels in this moment here in time with you.

Still, he cannot keep himself from shaking.

“I should be the one asking you that, My Divine.” His eyes blink open, that same fond look shining through as he stares deeply into your own.

“I’m more worried about you.” You admit lowly, thumb stroking along his cheekbone as he blinks at you. “I’m sorry I let her push your boundaries so far.”

“No, My Divine,” he shakes his head, shifting all the more closer to you as he cups your own face gently in the palms of his hands. “What you did for me today, what you said, has made me so unbelievably happy. Even now, I can hardly contain myself from ravishing you on this very bed to show you just how deep my gratitude for you lies.”

You cannot deny the way your heart simply flutters from his confession, breath catching in your throat.

“The fact that you wanted to look after me, that you wanted to protect me means more to me than you’ll ever know.” He tilts your head forward slightly in order to place a gentle kiss onto your forehead. Allowing his lips to linger against your skin for as long as possible, he mumbles, “Now, let me take care of you.”

Carefully, he reaches down to grasp your injured hand in his own, pulling away the slightest bit to get a better look at the cut. He’s glad Hongjoong listened to him, allowing for him to heal you after everything that you’ve done for him today.

You didn’t even notice you were still bleeding, blinking down at the open wound. There seems to be about three small slits, the blood flow slowing, but still enough to have droplets of red swelling against your skin.

Seonghwa’s breathing deepens, intently staring down at the blood that gathers in the palm of your hand. His touch is nothing short of tender as he caresses your wrist in his hold, and from the way you can feel his finger pressing into your pulse, you have a feeling you know exactly why he’s in such a trance.

“Please, My Queen,” he’s nearly panting at this point, eyes locked intently on your hand. “May I-“ he swallows thickly, grip tightening the slightest bit on your wrist. “I promise to be gentle, just please,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips, “may I have a taste?”

Your own breath hitches in your throat, and you notice his eyes flick upwards to meet your own. You swallow thickly. “You may.”

Seonghwa’s heart positively leaps for joy in his chest, eyes flashing black as the significance of this moment washes over his very soul. The fact that you’re even allowing him to do this, and he’ll be doing so after such a monumental event that happened today, means more to him than you’ll ever know.

Slowly, and with the greatest of care, Seonghwa raises your hand slightly, leaning down all the while. Gently, his fingers hold your palm open, his tongue lightly dragging over your wounds.

The very second that your blood touches his tongue, he moans. All sense of composure is thrown to the wind as he cleans your blood from your hand, his tongue nothing more than a gentle caress over your skin.

With every drag of his tongue, those small cuts begin to heal until there is nothing left. Still, he holds you to him, laving his mouth sensually against the skin of your palm as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses over your hand.

Shamelessly, he moans against you, guttural groans escaping him as he begins to trail his kisses up your palm, and to your wrist. Purposely, he laves his mouth over your pulse, feeling the way it stutters beneath his lips for him and him alone.

His tongue continuously darts out to taste your skin beneath him, slowly making his way up your arm with his kisses until he can go no further. The barrier of clothing irritates him, but that does not prevent him from wrapping his one arm around you and pulling you flush into him.

A moment later, and his forehead is pressing against yours once more.

“I love you, My Queen.” He breathes, the ghost of his breath fanning over your lips and causing tingles in its wake.

“Mars-“

“Please,” his voice is desperate, and he knows this as the words escape him in no more than a whisper, “My Divine, may I kiss you?”

This time, you don’t even have to think about your answer. Hopefully, you won’t be interrupted again, either.

“Yes.”

His lips are on yours without a second thought, pulling you impossibly closer as he pours all that he is into the kiss. The way he can feel you hum against him is simply icing on the cake, and he cannot prevent the way he begins to smile against your lips.

A moment later, and he deepens it, one hand coming up to support the back of your neck as he holds you to him. The way you shift to crawl onto his lap has a pleased growl escaping him, his eyes flashing as he feels you gently push him down onto your bed.

You can taste the faintest bit of your blood lingering on his tongue, but it doesn’t bother you at all. Not when he’s holding you like this. Not when he’s kissing you like you are the very air he needs to breathe.

He groans, hands holding onto your waist tenderly as you pull away from him in order to stare down at him from your position above him. A position he has fantasized about more time than he’d care to admit.

“My Queen,” his voice is nothing more than a pleased rumble as his thumbs begin to stroke tenderly against your skin beneath your shirt. “Kiss me more.”

You smile: a simple, seductive pull of your lips upwards as you lean into him once more. He can feel the ghost of your words against the skin of his lips, and he shivers, pulling you closer, “With pleasure.”

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Moon’s Queen ~ Ramsay Bolton x Tyrell!Reader ***

This is lowkey N.S.F.W., but not only. 

Basically, the reader goes up North for the first time, takes a liking to a certain Bastard and he shows her the beauty of the Snow Land, only for Myranda to butt her nose and try to kill poor reader... Who only gets the most royal treatment from the bastard~

---

“Is there really any place better than the ethereal gardens of our capital?” Y/N asked, twirling barefoot on the green grass, as she bathed in the warm caress giveth by the Sun. “I agree, My Lady. The beauty of the Reach is known all over Westeros, and even far beyond the borders.” Y/N’s maid smiled, looking at the joyful maiden. “Leana, come over, come over - Have you heard that rumours? They say some lords from the North are going to arrive soon. I wonder the purpose for their long journey. Surely, if it were not important, a Lord would not be making such a tedious trip.” Y/N turned abruptly towards her maid and grabbed her hands gingerly, yet her smirk was mischievous, like that of a playful vixen. “My Lady, please, for the love that you bore me and your Lady mother, behave as a lady should. Such wicked curiosity is unbecoming of someone of your status. Not to mention, you are not even betrothed yet, grace of your Lord Father’s love for you and your... Adventurous side, let us name it that way, as to avoid words unspeakable for a lady --” though the maid continued reproaching her, Y/N already was far away, as she had seen the retinue making their way towards the castle.

Keeping her distance from the main road, Y/N ran along, inspecting the banners - Of course, as the eldest daughter of the Tyrell Lord, she was well educated. She just didn’t bother acting the part. Thus, she easily spotted the main banners of the Stark and Bolton family, along with some of their vassals and other lesser... Far less important lords that were hardly worth caring for.

She at least could realise why her father wanted to keep this as a surprise - He always loved surprising her with the newest things out there, even if that meant some new lordlings visiting with sons and daughters her age so that she would make new friends, should they be willing to.

Unable to contain her excitement any further, the young lady of barely eight and ten years of age bursted through the front doors of the Castle and ran all the way to the throne room, where she saw her father greeting Lord Stark and Lord Bolton, while their children and the lesser lords were one step, or even two,  behind. Y/N grinned widely as she skipped to her lord father’s side, hugging his side and wearing the most charming and innocent expression a daughter could make to melt her father’s old heart, as she kissed his cheek.

“Sweet father, what a pleasant surprise! To think that we would be guesting visitors from so far away! How very exciting!” then, she turned to the two older men and did a pretty curtesy, despite not wearing any shoes and wearing a light, simple dress. “You must be Lord Stark and Lord Bolton - It is a pleasure meeting you and your envoy.” Eddard Stark was the first to step forward and kiss her hand, with the other one following right behind. Her father guffawed mirthfully and put his hand on her back, while with the other, he pointed to the children of those lords. “Y/N, darling, why don’t you entertain the young guests? They must be tired after such a tiresome journey. Show them to their room and then guide them down for the feast, will you?” with a pat on her head, the girl nodded with a bright smile and skipped towards the other ones, some her age, while some, much younger than her. “If you would be so kind as to follow me - Ah, of course, where are my manners, do excuse me. My name is Y/N Tyrell and I am the eldest daughter of my Lord Father, Mace Tyrell, and my Lady Mother, Alerie Hightower. I have four other siblings - Willas, who is the oldest one, Garlant, my dear twin brother, Loras, who is by far, the prettiest young man the Reach has ever seen, and my sweet sister Margaery, who rivals any flower in Westeros.” Y/N continued to speak, not daring yet to get a better look at the young ones whom she was guiding - She wanted to take each of them through a detailed lens, once the feast began, so she could see what kind of people they truly are, despite their frail age.

Despite her reticence, she could already see their personalities shine, more or less individually - While Robb was more sober and chivalrous, Jon, the bastard of Lord Stark, was rather timid and dared not speak. Sansa was the definition of the perfect lady, whilst young Arya was an adventurous, playful soul, just like her.

And then, there was Ramsay Snow, Roose Bolton’s bastard and only child, and much possibly, the one that will become his heir and take over the Dreadfort... This one was... Odd, to say the least. Handsome, charming, well-natured, rather funny and an outright gentleman - He even seemed interested in her passions and anything that she has to say, unlike the other two boys.

Was Roose Bolton trying to have his child court her, for a better claim to get his bastard legitimized? How intriguing.

By the time evening came through, Y/N was already bathed, oiled in the most fragrant, sweet perfumes and garbed in the most beautiful light blue and gold dress, making her shine even more beautifully than the colourful flowers that were braided into her long, shiny hair that cascaded down her back in velvety waves as she entered the feast room and sat between Sansa and Arya (asked by their Lord Father, in hopes that they would stop their on-going feud), with the three visitor boys sitting opposite of them. Margaery and Loras were chatting somewhere closer to their mother, while Willas, Garlan and his wife were having a pleasant conversation at the other end of the table.

"I would love to ask you how do you find Highgarden so far, yet that would be just silly of me. You are far too tired for a walk through the gardens, though I promise you that, on the morrow, I shall be guiding you through all of the beautiful places that the proximity has to offer. There is truly nothing better in life than to feast your eyes on the beauty and art that life has to offer.” the girl smiled serenely, as if she was completely unaffected by anything tainted in this world. Ramsay Snow, with those gargoyle blue eyes, was staring at her with wonder and intrigue - There was also something else, rather foreign for him... A kind of hunger that he had never experienced, no matter how many pretty girls passed through his hands and bed. 

Was it his intuition? That there was something far more sinister about this young girl that hid behind wet fawn eyes? Something that was hidden away from anyone to see? Surely, there was no human capable of being this... Sickeningly soft and sweet and whatever other feminine words that are hammered down into a woman’s brain from birth.

No - Perhaps, not EVERY woman. Myranda cursed like a sailor and her speech was dirty and vulgar, unlike her pretty face and fragile body. She could easily break, just like all of them, no matter the vocabulary they used. Pathetic.

Still, he was outright fascinated, and he wanted dearly to see whether this Tyrell girl was made, inside and out, of flowers and perfume - If honeyed wine was surging through her veins, because if so, he’d get drunk on her blood, and feast on her supple, tender body like a madman.

“Lady Y/N, did you make your dress yourself?” Sansa asked with a shy smile, admiring the fine craftsmanship - The fashion style and hair styles were so different down south, compared to those in the north. “Not entirely, though, I suppose I could, if I put my mind to. I love embroidery, but I do not much fancy tailoring as a whole. Whenever I want to pass some time, I go in the garden and embroider whatever designs I am inspired to on a new dress that the seamstresses make for me.” the girl answered truthfully, allowing the red haired beauty to trace the golden, intricate designs with her soft fingertips. “See? She said she hates tailoring! She’s on my side!” Arya blurted in a bratty voice, making her two brothers lean on each other, to hide their chuckling. “No! She said she loved embroidery, she’s nothing like you, you dirty sewer rat!” Sansa gritted her teeth at her younger sister, latching her arms onto the Tyrell girl’s arm. “Oh my, oh my, what do we have here, a little sister feud. I see that sweet Sansa is rather fond of feminine arts... But you, Arya, are not. Could it be that you prefer a... Different kind of ‘needlework’? Could it be that, should you have been born a male, you could have easily defeated your two sniggering brothers over there?” Y/N raised her hand to her mouth, humming in amusement at their family interactions. “What?! You mean you like sparring too? And archery? And horse-riding? And fencing? And --” Arya’s eyes became wide like saucers from absolute amazement. “No way Lady Y/N enjoys something so brutish and barbaric as that! Look at her, she’s such a fine and delicate lady - There’s no scar or bruise on her skin, and her hands aren’t even pricked by needles!” Sansa tried to defend her own vision of the Tyrell girl, who only shook her head. “It is a wide belief that people should be owners of a variety of skills, of the widest ranges. Be it that I am arranging flowers with my sweet sister, or sparring with young Loras, if I am discussing history, art and philosophy with my eldest brother, or winning riding contests against my darling twin, it matters little. Those skills need not be necessarily mastered to the maximum degree possible, but they should at least be known, for the most part.” she explained as gracefully as she could, hoping that both sisters would be pacified... Somehow.

However, they only began arguing more, making Y/N lean backwards to allow them to face each other better. With a low chuckle, she slipped her way out of there, sharing an amused look with the three boys opposite of her, before she stole a plate filled with small cakes, tarts and pastries and making her way outside, so she could take a stroll through the garden, the dimly lit lamps and the silvery light of Mother Moon being the only source of light.

The sound of rapid footsteps on the cobbled street, however, made the corners of her mouth turn upward in amusement as she continued to walk, seemingly unassuming, until the owner of those steps jumped right in front of her - Yet she did not flinch - Instead, she took a strawberry tart and popped it into his mouth.

“Do you have strawberries up North, Lord Ramsay?” the man’s eyes were wide, yet nowhere near matching Arya’s previous shock. With a huff, he gulped down the bite-sized tart and nodded his head in approval. “I have to admit, My Lady, that I have never tasted anything as delicious as this tart. I may have not realised entirely the benefits of living in the most prosperous land in Westeros. There are many a fruit and vegetables that are foreign to me, who has not left the North until now.” he spoke, side-stepping so he could walk next to her. “I can only assume Highgarden is a most safe land, otherwise, a gorgeous lady such as yourself would be afraid of walking the dark gardens, unattended by anyone.” he assumed, stealing another cake, this one, a pomegranate one. “Yes, you are correct, My Lord. There have been no assaults in Highgarden, since I have been born. I often stroll through the gardens at night - I have found it a rather relaxing and enjoyable hobby of mine - And through none of these promenades of mine, have I ever needed to make use of my hidden weapon, thankfully for whatever fool might be out there.” she explained nonchalantly, entering a large garden filled with only white flowers that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. The girl sat down on the grass and looked up at the moon, letting the plate on the ground, and she smiled. “Do you know what flower this is, Lord Ramsay?” she asked, a serene and peaceful expression on her face, as the man sat down next to her. “No, I dare say, I do not. We do not have such majestic flowers in my lands.” he answered, examining and analysing her face as if she was some kind of Moon Nayad. “They are called the ‘Moon’s Queen’, for they only open their petals during the night, if they receive this silvery light.” her smile felt as serene as the moon - Was she some kind of Moon Goddess that thrived best in the night light? Or, perhaps, some kind of witch, for she completely enchanted him. Getting up from the ground, she waltzed to one of the bigger flowers, and taking a dagger hidden within her hair’s braids, she cut it short and returned to the man. “The petals are even softer than a rose’s - And unlike one, they have a sweet perfume smell. But they are shy, and not many people know of them, hence why this flower is always... Forgotten. It can only be white, unlike the rose, which can grace every colour there is, hence why, it is the most loved and praised flower, especially here - Our symbol is a golden rose, after all.” the girl was kneeling on the ground in front of him, the flower nestling beautifully on her two joined palms - In the light, it looked as if it was glowing. “You said your sister was named ‘The Rose of Highgarden’, as she is the most beautiful woman in the Reach. I beg to disagree. Roses are common, and boring - One can find them anywhere. They are even freely given at jousting tourneys.” Ramsay spoke, carefully taking the flower, and fixing it into her hair. “But I think true beauty is hidden away from the common eye. The most endearing things are the mysteries you unveil yourself.” though her eyes were cast down, and a soft blush was painted on her cheeks, the bastard could see the enigmatic smile that was painted on those sweet lips of hers - He was convinced they were even softer, and more velvety than even the petals of this flower - And oh, how he wanted to test that theory for himself. “Then, how would you name me, Lord Ramsay~?” her eyes slowly met his, and for a moment there, he had forgotten how to breathe. Those sparkling, beautiful eyes of hers were so full of life, so mischievous - He was more and more curious how would she react to seeing a man flayed before her. “The Queen of the Moon.” the man gingerly held her chin, leaning it down, enough to plant a kiss on her forehead.

The next day, after a hearty breakfast, they were to have a ride through the forest, along with her brothers. Willas preferred to stay on the side and have good chats with his father and the other two Lords, while Garlan was already out with his Lady wife. That left Margaery to entertain Sansa, who didn’t want to get her dress dirty in the woods, even though she would have gladly ridden with Loras. At least, with Margaery, who was her age, she could chat for hours and walk through the gardens.

Arya, however, jumped up and down in excitement and insisted she rides with Y/N, who could only chuckle and agree, despite Robb and Jon shaking their head at the young girl’s stubbornness. 

The young ones had a lot of fun, riding and hunting game, then at night, the royal kitchen would make a feast from their triumphant victory. Unfortunately for everyone, the retinue had to return back home after a week, and though it felt like barely a few moments had passed, it was time for them to leave...

But not without the Stark Lord inviting the Highgarden Lord and his children over in the North - The reasons mattered little - Y/N was more than excited to see the beauty of the North, as Ramsay had described it, especially after he, himself, had invited the girl while in private. Since the day that the envoy left, Y/N was all over her father, telling him to start preparing for the long journey up the King’s Road, all the way to Winterfell.

Moments passed like hours, hours like days and days like weeks, and than months, but finally, after far too many months of waiting, Mace Tyrell allowed his eldest daughter to go first up North, for a brief journey towards the Dreadfort - Though the man wasn’t too happy that his sweet Y/N has become smitten with a bastard, he knew very well that Lord Bolton was the second most powerful man in the North, and was fighting hard to get his son ligitimised. He hated the idea of settling for second best, but at the same time, his darling had never been status-ambitious like her grandmother or her youngest sister, preferring to enjoy life to the fullest - And, of course, how could he deny his darling Y/N the freedom of falling in love, something all nobles had been prived of for so many centuries on end? Though she has never proven to be a romantic, Mace and Alerie both hoped that, just like her twin brother, Y/N would meet a man that will make her feel like a maiden from the bards’ love stories, like Florian and Jonquil.

Y/N was warmly welcomed in the Dreadfort by none other than the Snow boy himself, who wore a large, excited smile on his face, and he gallantly invited the lady inside the humble abode, as he called it - How could he compare his small fort to the gracious palace of the Highgarden, after all? Not wealth, nor grandeur could come anywhere close to what he had witnessed in the beautiful South.

However much Ramsay wished to get her inside, out of the harsh cold that was reddening her cheeks even more so than the red roses that grew wild, as soon as she heard the squealing of dogs, she found herself rushing towards the kennels. There, Ramsay noticed, she completely ignored Myranda’s presence and ran past her, to the kennel of one bitch that had just gave birth less than a month ago. “My~... Aren’t you so beautiful?” the bastard watched the fascination emanating from the girl - Did she truly love dogs so much, he wondered? Was she maybe that much of an innocent girl, and he misjudged her? “Do you have a death wish, or are you just plain dumb?!” Myranda angrily shrieked at the beautiful lady, shocked at how boldly she knelt by the bitch’s side. “You don’t just go next to a bitch that just gave birth! It will think you’re trying to harm her pups and she will attack you. It’s common knowledge!” however much Ramsay wanted to slap Myranda for speaking with such insolence with his sweet flower, he couldn’t help but notice Y/N taking her furs off and creating a blanket for the dog and her puppies.  “There, there, you must be cold, aren’t you, darling? All better now, isn’t it? Sweet lady, you must eat well and keep warm if you and your babies want to keep strong.” he watched as the dog sniffed Y/N’s palm, only to lean its head onto it... Acting like a spoiled pup, melting in the caring, loving touch of the nurturing lady.  “Wh-What the hell are you doing -- Are you insane?! You can’t -- You can’t just -- That’s our most aggressive bitch, you can’t just tame her like that, she’ll become useless!” the kennel master’s daughter roughly grabbed at Lady Tyrell’s dress, pulling her away from the dogs - Though much surprising was that the bitch rose and started growling menacingly at her. Myranda could only stare at the bitch in shock and slight fear - None of the dogs ever dared growl at her, let alone snarl and bare their fangs at her. She was the dog whisperer! The one tasked with taking care of her beloved Lord Ramsay’s precious bitches! How dare that... That whore interfere! How dare she mess everything?! “Myranda.” the woman froze, feeling complete dread take over her senses. “It is clear that Lady Tyrell here is far more competent with dogs than you, the kennel master’s own daughter, are.” a bead of sweat ran down her forehead from the sheer pressure of his stern, ice-cold voice. “If even the dogs are going against you for your silly mistake, then I believe you should leave for the day. I and Lady Y/N will be taking care of them for now.” “B-But R-Ramsay, I-- I--... Sh-She---” the skinny woman’s otherwise dominant and harsh eyes became wide with fear as her master stepped closer to her, those gargoyle-like eyes staring deep into her soul, and for a second there, she could see herself being flayed alive. “Leave.” he ordered. “I will think of a proper punishment later.” with a flick of his gloved hand, Myranda whimpered and ran out of the kennels. Ramsay took a deep breath before kneeling by Y/N’s side. “Forgive her, My Lady, she overreacted. She wasn’t aware of who you are, otherwise she wouldn’t have spoken out of line.” Y/N smiled softly at him, before pulling him towards the dog. “It is quite alright, I don’t mind. In fact, it was I who was in the wrong. Lady Myranda tried to warn me, though my recklessness could have cost me my hand, or perhaps worse.” Ramsay looked into those glimmering eyes, and without much thinking, he grasped her chin and forced her to look at him - It earned a growl from the bitch, though Y/N pat her head enough to calm her down. “Incompetent slaves ought to be reprimanded and put in their place, My Sweet Lady, otherwise they grow bold and misbehave.” his tone changed to a more whispery one, which only seemed to grow her own smile. “It is not up to me to reprimand a servant that is not of mine own, especially as she simply tried to save me from a sure mauling.” he could see the corner of her mouth twitch upwards, just a little bit. “After all... Slaves and bastards aren’t too different in the eyes of the people, are they?” Ramsay’s eyes seemed to flash, grabbing her face closer to his, only for the dog to outright bark at him. “My Beautiful Lady resembles the flower with her own name - Beautiful, yet poisonous and deadly. Perhaps I ought to reconsider the nickname I address you as.” “Sweet Ramsay, I think Lady Dog is trying to tell you that you should be more gentle with me.” she softly put her hand over his, releasing the grasp on her face. “After all, I’m just a little lady, frail as a flower, and afraid of getting hurt.” “Do you even believe your own lies, My Lady?” Y/N smiled at him, tilting her head to the side, completely innocent - Though Ramsay knew that sparkle in her eyes very well - It was a challenge - She was provoking him. “You once called me the Queen of the Moon, Sweet Ramsay - It wouldn’t bode well for you to treat me any less than that.” the man scoffed, an amused smirk on his face as he took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, bringing her closer to his body. “Flowers freeze in this cold, My Lady. You should come inside and warm yourself up. You must be tired after such a long journey, and Myranda’s less than optimal behaviour wasn’t the greeting that a princess like you deserves.” the man helped her up, and with a hand placed on the middle of her back, he guided her inside the unexpectedly warm fort, into a cozy room, clean and already warm. “I will have the servants bring you dinner here. The maids will know better than I, the kind of hospitality that a lady needs.” he bowed his head at her slightly, watching as she went for the window, and she looked outside, a serene look on her face. “Does it mean that you’re already leaving me alone? Well - I suppose I won’t mind much. The view here is spectacular - And I have some puppies to care for, and books plenty to read. I doubt I’ll get bored, even without your great company.” she hummed, not even sparing him a single glance. “Your room is across mine own.” she needn’t look at him to feel the forming smirk on his face. “For any reason you wish to see me, I will be at your disposal, whatever hour of the day or night, my sweet lady.” “That is a proposal that I will be taking to heart. Thank you for such lovely and warm hospitality, my sweet Ramsay, I appreciate your kindness and care for me.” she turned to him, holding her hand over her heart. “It is my first time here, up North, after all.” he was so smitten with that soft, tender voice of hers - But more, he was head over heels with the mystery hidden behind that angelic facade of hers. “By all means, my lady. Although the North isn’t as wealthy and welcoming as the South, we still strive to show its beauty, for there is plenty.” with a charming smile, Ramsay left the room, allowing the girl to be attended to by the maid.

The maid was Myranda, Y/N realised with great amusement, and she was nowhere near as talkative as before, when she’d snapped at her. Y/N smiled sweetly at the dog caretaker, but it wasn’t difficult to realise that the reason for her muteness was the emotion she was failing so miserably to hide. She was so jealous. 

Was it her wealth? Her beauty and grace? Her noble status? - Or, perhaps, it was Ramsay’s evident interest in the Tyrell girl that she was so envious of. Either way, it didn’t matter - Y/N was loving the torment storming behind those blue eyes - Those eyes of her were kinda pretty, Y/N thought, yet they somehow became incredibly dull on her. They didn’t fit her. She was dull.

With the expected curtesy, Myranda brought the tray of food and beverages inside the room, placing it carefully on the table next to the fireplace, yet despite how annoyingly chatty she previously was - Now, she remained silent. Good. Her voice was rather grating.

“My Lady.” unfortunately, she had to open mouth of hers - Y/N noticed she had applied some make up, and her lips were deep, blood red. Awful colour on her. “My Lord asked me to draw a bath for you after you’ve eaten.” “Very well, you may do so.” the Tyrell beauty sat at the table and kept herself busy by reading a book whilst eating the tasty dishes. The meat was unexpectedly tender - Y/N was sure this must be some kind of venison done with a secret recipe that they didn’t have in the South. It was perfectly delicious, and the text was rather interesting - If only Myranda’s presence hadn’t been such a hindrance... At least her maids were better company and knew when to give her the much needed quiet, alone time that she so greatly needed - It was such a chore, engaging in social interactions. “You are very beautiful, My Lady. Where are you from, if I may ask?” Myranda spoke, sniffing the powerful, sweet floral perfume. “Highgarden.” one of Y/N’s maids spoke in her stead, not wanting their lady to be interrupted whilst busy. “Lady Y/N Tyrell is the most beautiful maiden in the Reach.” Leana smiled dearly at her lady. “Ah!” Y/N snapped her head towards her friend. “Margy is!” Leana’s smile widened. “My Lady, forgive me for disagreeing with you - Whilst Lady Margaery is, indeed, the Rose of Highgarden, I cannot help but find your beauty above any word from every vocabulary in Westeros, and beyond.” “You flatter me so, my sweet Leana, you needn’t!” Y/N hid her flustered face with the book she was reading. “There were others before you. All of them just as beautiful, or maybe even more than you.” Myranda’s eerily soothing voice spoke, her fingers tracing the water, feeling its temperature. “You are not that special to him... My Lady.” she offered Lady Tyrell a small, venomous smile. “Lord Ramsay gets bored very quickly.” Whilst Leana was ready to speak up and defend her lady, Y/N simply smiled sweetly at Myranda, gesturing for her maid to remain quiet. “Is that so? Thank you, I will keep that in mind, erh--...” Y/N smiled wider, taunting her. “What was your name again? Meera? Maria?” “Myranda, My Lady.” the girl almost snapped. Y/N let out a small ‘ah’ sound, though the kennel master could see that she was acting. “Right. A name as dull as you. It fits you!” she said. “Will you tell me about these ladies that preceded me, then?” Y/N could see the way Myranda was trying so hard not to break her composure, and with each twitch of her face, she was feeling more and more ecstatic. “Let’s see... There was Kyra, the blacksmith’s daughter. She was taller than you, with a lovely figure... But... She talked, and... Talked and talked... And Ramsay grew tired of that.” Myranda spoke, adding more boiled water to the tub. “And then there was Violet... She had gorgeous blonde hair... Well... She got pregnant, and - That was boring.” she chuckled lightly. “Then... Tansy... Such a sweet girl, much like you.” Myranda grinned. “Of course, sweet girls get a bit... Dull... After a while, don’t they?” she stared deep into Y/N’s eyes, hoping to see the fright and alert. There was nothing but twinkling of amusement. “Ramsay let me come with him on that hunt.” “Then, when is it your turn?” Myranda’s smile faltered in surprise. “I wonder if I need to do anything more than batting my pretty lashes at him, to let me come to your hunt. I’m a pretty good shot, you know, he even praised me when we went hunting last month.” she giggled sweetly.  “Just because you’re a new hyper-obsession of his, doesn’t mean you’ll last. They all exhausted their use fairly quick. It’s their fault for being boring. Noble women like you, especially, are the most dull of all. No personality, no interests - You just sit in a corner, have a pretty smile and you embroider some handkerchief.” Myranda shot to her feet immediately, not realising her outburst. “If I’m the new obsession, it just means you’re old news. Remember how he scolded you earlier today? He didn’t seem too happy with you. Were you... Jealous, Marla?” the woman spat her name again, correcting her. “Ah, yes, forgive me - It is not easy remembering such a stale name.”  “He promised to marry me! Ramsay always kept his promises to me!” she almost looked like a bratty child, with angry tears making her eyes gleam. “And you truly believed that?” Y/N widened her eyes, letting out a fake, dramatic gasp as she got up and called for Leana to unlace her dress. “Oh, sweet girl, how naive must you be - So blind and deaf, so muddle-headed, to think that the man who’s trying to get himself legitimised as the next Lord Bolton would actually spare you another glance once he gets that title and will realise how absolutely tiresome your ugly jealousy is. He won’t have any time for the silly temper tantrums of a dumb, little girl who thinks she is going to marry the man of her dreams.” Y/N hummed in amusement, feeling the water-like material of her dress falling down to the ground, revealing her gorgeous silhouette and harmonious curves in all their glory, only to take in another sharp inhale, once she noticed the gears of Myranda’s brain working, fear and doubt overwhelming her, as well as a sense of perfect inferiority, seeing the Goddess body of the Tyrell woman. “No, don’t tell me...” she said, pitying her. “You thought that... By offering him your flower, he was truly going to commit to you? Oh, darling, you sweet, sweet girl - How foolish can you get? Don’t you know that mundane, predictable thoughts like these are...” Y/N grinned wickedly, making Myranda’s blood freeze in her bloodstream. “Boring.”

Myranda felt her heart stop, and with a kind of uneasiness that she hasn’t felt in a long time, she quickly left the room, allowing Y/N and her maids to giggle and continue gossiping and making fun of the kennel master’s daughter. What a delusional girl.

Y/N stepped into the hot water and allowed the steam to soothe her tired muscles, just allowing her maid to clean her and oil her with the sweetest perfumes that the South can create. Once it got late enough into the night, Y/N, wearing a light sleeping gown that would have been perfect for the Reach, yet not so much for the chilly nights of the North - Draping herself in furs yet remaining barefoot, she swiftly stepped out of the room and with a soft knock, she creaked open the door, calling out his name. “Sweet Ramsay, are you awake?” He must have been asleep, as he hadn’t answered to her whispery voice - It only made Y/N bolder, closing the door behind her and quietly tip-toe to his bed. His pretty face was being illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window, though Y/N could only stare at the man sleeping without his shirt, and she felt a cold shiver down her spine - Were all Northmen so cold resistant, she wondered.

She crouched by his face and trailed the back of her fingers by his sculpted jaw. He looked so peaceful and innocent sleeping, it was like he was a whole other person. “My Sweet Ramsay, are you having nice dreams?” Unexpectedly, her hand got grabbed, and with outstanding force and another hand on her body, she got pulled into the man’s tight arms. “They are, now that you’re here.” his low, husky voice spoke. “Were you missing me so much that you couldn’t sleep, my sweet flower?” “Yes.” she breathed out, already feeling her body warm under the furs, held flush against his hot body. “So genuine. Very endearing.” Y/N could feel his body shaking softly from one attractive chuckle. “You were cold, weren’t you?” “O, you’ve found me out!” she nuzzled in the crook of his neck. “I didn’t mean to appear as though I’m trying to make use of you... Though I cannot deny that I am already feeling so much better.” “Had that useless wench forgotten to do the fire in your room?” the man grumbled. “That must have been my fault - I think I upset Lady Myranda with my teasing. She walked away with tears in her eyes. I called her name, but... I think I really made her sad. Forgive me, sweet Ramsay.” that sickly sweet voice of hers only made him scoff in mock amusement. “Whatever you said to her, she’ll get over it.” he seemed harsh. “There is no wrong you can do here, especially against some slave girl that can’t even do her job right.” “Please, sweet Ramsay, don’t be so harsh with her - It is not her fault that she is still dreaming like a little girl.” the man hummed questioningly. “She was so happy, speaking about you, I couldn’t help but tease her a little - You know, like friends. Alas, I think I must have gone a bit over board for someone who isn’t as close to me as any of my friends back home.” “What kind of idiocy has she bored you with?” Ramsay was now wide awake, already thinking of a way to punish that stupid slut.  “No, No, my darling, love is not something boring, nor is the sweet promise of a happy marriage!” Y/N shifted up, resting on her forearms to get a better look at the man. “She seemed so delighted, thinking about you and your future together. It was so precious, mind you.” Ramsay remained quiet for a few seconds. “You have gone quiet, sweet Ramsay - Have I... Bored you already?” The man took a sharp breath, his hands finding their rightful place, cupping her cheeks. “You could never bore me, My Sweet Flower. I was just wondering the extent of Myranda’s delusions. Stupid girl believes everything anyone tells her - It’s as if she is incapable of thinking.” “Ahh, no wonder she was so convinced you loved her the most.” Ramsay was almost fascinated with the way she pretended to care for Myranda’s feelings, but the mocking sweet tone with which she was talking only made it even more amusing, were it not for the internal anger he felt simply thinking about that wretch. “Did she speak ill of you in any way?” he asked, his voice almost showing his rage and how close he was to marching up and wringing her neck like a pigeon’s. “Oh no, not at all! Though she did mention some other ladies. One tall with a lovely figure, though very talkative. The other, she said, got pregnant... And the last one was a sweet girl, just like me - And, just like me, she was also incredibly boring - Or so Myranda described them. Ah... What were their names... Forgive me, I cannot remember their names... No, wait - I think one of them was... Kyra? Was she the blacksmith’s daughter? Ah, yes, she was the talkative one, who talked so much that she bored you to death... Just like I am, right now...” she stopped speaking abruptly, turning her head to the side as though to mimic guilt and shame. “If anyone speaks too much is Myranda, not you.” Ramsay got in a sitting position, dragging her up with him. “Has she also told you what I did with them, once I got bored of them? Has she threatened you?” “I’m very happy to know that I’m not disinteresting you with how much I’m chatting - You see, I’m used to talking so much with people I like, I tend to forget all courtesies.” she, inching closer to him.  “Speak as much as you will, I find not only your voice, but your words also, to be enticing and worth hearing.” the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Myranda told me about these... Hunts you’re attending. She did say you allowed her to join you once, and I... Was wondering if you’d entertain me also with such activity. I believe I proved my sharpshooter skills last month.” she leaned in so close to his face that he could almost feel her plump lips touching his. “Oh, sweet lady, if only you knew what that implied, you wouldn’t be wearing that innocent smile on this perfect face of yours.” his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. “But I do know, my darling. I do know.” his eyebrows slowly rose up in surprise. “I don’t need the image of a small, pink, flayed man to know that your hunts must hold some kind of peculiarity that would serve as entertainment.” she smiled more. “Are those lovely dogs involved too?” The air was punched out of his lungs - How can someone so perfectly angelic, so seemingly innocent, this noble lady that’s supposed to be frail like a flower - She was speaking so tenderly and sweet about hunting people! She was an oxymoron, and he, was in love with her. “I want you to come for every hunt from now on, my Moon Queen.” That happy smile, along with the soft pink painting her cheeks, only made his heart beat so, so fast in anticipation. “Can we have Myranda’s hunt soon?” that venomous sweetness was enough to drive the bastard over the edge, and instinctively he grabbed her hips and brought her over his lap, pulling her flush against his chest. Her slender legs straddling him, and the way she felt against his pelvis only made him grow wilder and his grip on her flesh got tighter. He wasn’t thinking when he tried to slam his lips against her own, nor did he realise that instead of those petals, his mouth came in contact with her palm. Through his bewilderment, he noticed that vixen-like grin of hers, unreadable and enigmatic. “Sweet Ramsay, you are running so fast to action, you’re intimidating me. I am not Kyra, nor Violet or Tansy... And least of all, not your dearest Myranda. Are you trying to scare a little maiden such as myself?” Slowly she removed her hand, gazing at the man’s beautiful blue eyes. “Could it be that you’re intentionally trying to get a rise out of me? “ “Is it working?” the way she tilted her head to the side so cutely made him want to throw her down on the bed and claim her. “It is.” he admitted, his jaw gritted down as a way of holding back his animalistic urges. “Good!” that cheeky, chirpy way she exclaimed drove him mad, as she rolled to the side and cuddled into him. “Will you keep me warm, sweet Ramsay?” “Every night, my sweet lady.”

How was he supposed to keep his hands from lingering down that warm skin of hers, or hold back from having his fingers grip down on her flesh so hard that it left bruises, all due to his insatiable desire for her? If she was just any slave girl from the North, he could have shackled her down and claimed her in any way he so imagined - And only the Gods knew how very creative he was when it came to the pleasure-taking he was crazy over... But Y/N was from an affluent family, renowned all over Westeros and far beyond, second only to the Lannisters. Even if he wanted to re-enact all his perverse fantasies about this mischievous little vixen, he knew there will be hell to pay, and any claim of legitimacy would be thrown out the window.

Still, she didn’t seem opposed to getting intimately close to him in the least - She showed no signs of fear when she implied hunting down Myranda, nor did she seem intimidated by the bitch’s failed attempts of taunting her - More, she made her cry, if the story was as true as she claimed it to be, and truly, he was disappointed that he wasn’t there to watch the interaction go. He long knew how annoyingly jealous Myranda was of any girl that he bedded or showed any kind of personal interest in, going as far as to sabotage them, and more - But she was beginning, at a rapid pace even, to get stale, and no amount of perversion or unheard of pleasing methods could save her from her fate if she continued to whine about any silly little thing.

Y/N was different - He could read what she was thinking, and the games she played were far more interesting. She was fun to be around, and that innocent act of hers, pretending to be a small and naive little bunny, all righteous and benevolent was nothing more than the beauty of a rose with poisoned thorns. Here she lay, her body softly going up and down with each of her inhales and exhales, as she slept so peacefully, nuzzled to his side, just like a fawn cuddling with a predator ready to tear her apart - But she trusted the killer wouldn’t harm her. Was it because of her status? Her family? Or simply, she could feel how taken he was with her, from the very first second that his eyes met hers and he saw that playful and slightly illicit twinkle in those beautiful eyes of hers?

For a whole week he will have her all for himself, yet at arm length; So close, yet so very far away, and no matter how much he wanted to snatch that beautiful, blooming flower of hers, he was forcefully held back, shackled to the wall and left to drip with lust like a ferocious wolf watching a lamb with snow-white fleece, prance around fearing no danger in the world.

Patience was never one strong suit of his, but now, he had to be. He cared little that Y/N Tyrell was a noble woman and being with her would help his claims at legitimacy, and he cared even less that he had to marry a woman of status whilst having promised the flock of girls surrounding him already his heart. He had no heart - And even if he did, it was already taken by the sheep wearing wolf’s clothing and strutting around him, just closely out of reach. He wanted to eat her whole, and then some more. He wanted to drink her honey and feast on her strawberry tarts, sickly sweet yet so addicting. He wanted to hear her sing the thrills of the nightingales every night as he looks down from above her, and he wants to feel the way her body dances involutarily from the pleasure he offers her. 

And most of all, he wanted to see that pleasure-drunk expression of hers, all bashful as she’s driven off the edge, and while she tries to hide from shame, he’s going to force her to look him straight into his eyes and drink in her gasps and moans with another kiss, feeling her stiff body gradually grow lax in his arms, seeing only the stars, and him amongst them.

Their sharing of not only a room but the bed also continued for the rest of the week, without Y/N even bothering to blame Myranda’s lack of brain for the coldness of her own dormitory - She has made it clear already that she simply wanted to display a pretext to sleep with him, and Ramsay was more than thrilled with such a notion - After all, it wasn’t often that he fell asleep and woke up to the same woman, beautiful above all and enticing as very select few.

Still, if Ramsay could feel jealousy, it would be on his own dogs, though he’d rather say he was feeling as territorial as his bitches, yet maybe not even then. He was more than content to see someone actually capable of bonding with his dogs as well as he did, while also being obeyed so well. One would think the daughter of the kennel master would know dogs better than human - Alas, Myranda was capable of none of those - But Y/N was, and that mattered most.

“There, there, mommy, you and your sweet puppies have to stay comfortable and warm. The cold of the North is very harsh, even if you’re used to it.” the mother dog whined, happy, as she was being spoiled, kissed and caressed by the woman. Y/N continued praising and loving the dog, and though she was a large breed with long, thick, black hair, looking more like a bear than a dog, she had the cutest name - Faye. Y/N wondered who Faye was, before she was killed - How did she get so dull that Ramsay had her kill, who was she while still alive, how did she look and so on. “Beautiful, sweet Faye, you are so loved, my darling.” she was so absorbed in her pampering of the canine that she didn’t hear the intruder stepping towards them until it was too late. “You stupid girl - These are hunting dogs, not pets! They are supposed to stay vicious, starved, to mauls and rip apart the prey... Not... Not this - Whatever this is! You’ve ruined them! Ruined the whole batch and the bitch!” Myranda’s glare was as harsh as the wind that was blowing outside. “I beg to disagree Myranda, though I can see why it would seem offensive, considering you were born and raised among dogs. You see - Fear is a double-edged sword when it comes to obedience. Dogs may be loyal, but fear is fickle. They can always turn on you, if pushed enough. If you treat them well, they will treat you just as well, but tenfold. Just like people.” Y/N smiled defiantly at her, only making her growl as well as any mutt. “Why did you come here?! To steal my man? To steal my job? You’re already so rich that you don’t know what to do with your wealth - Did you come here specifically to bring me misery and rob me of anything I have?!” Myranda’s yelling only proved to make the dog snarl at her as a warning. “Even the dogs hate me now - Because of you!” “Once again, I’m inclined to disagree, mostly because... Living beings aren’t property and Ramsay was never yours. If you want to play technicalities, it was you who was his, not the other way around - Even more, you were... Naive enough to believe he would actually marry you. Silly girl, you don’t know him half as well as you think you do.” the Tyrell’s mocking smile proved enough to drive the other one off the edge of her sanity, and she took out a dagger from her waist and tried to push her away to get ahold of the pups and kill them. What a stupid move, Y/N thought as she grabbed her arm and tried to wrestle her off. “Have you gone mad?! How could you do that?!” “GET OFF ME, YOU STUPID WHORE! I’M GETTING RID OF ANY LINGER OF YOUR PRESENCE IN THIS PLACE - BEGINNING WITH THIS LOT, AND NEXT - YOU!” Myranda’s growls echoed through the humid kennels as she tried to launch at the dogs once more, but the noblewoman leapt up to shield them, her shoulder proving the stabbing point of the blade.  “Leave, Myranda! Get out and calm yourself - You’re being irrational!” Faye, too, jumped to her paws and started aggressively roaring at the attacker, ready to maul her off the same as she did for her namesake - But she stopped, as soon as another pair of steps seemed to bother the squaffle between the two women.

Ramsay’s blue eyes, usually frozen as the water of the North, were now blazing with pure rage - How dare that whore attempt to kill his beautiful Y/N? Did she have a death wish and had no clue how to act upon it? He had as many inventive killing methods, as he had pleasuring ones, and perhaps even more - Myranda, of all people, the expendable woman who lasted the longest so far should have known best. “Myranda.” his voice seemed even colder than the weather outside, and the woman seemed to submissively let the knife drop with a loud, resounding clank, as she stepped away with tearful eyes. “M-My Love...! Y-You’re here! You - You have to see what she’s done, she -- She was trying to TAME the girls, she -- She was SPOILING them! She was RUINING them! My love, you must do something about this--” even louder than the sound the dagger made, the slap which she received was enough to make even Y/N flinch, watching Myranda painfully fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “M-My love...?!” she seemed absolutely betrayed - What a delusional woman. “You have been testing my patience recently, Myranda. If I’d known you were suicidal, I’d have killed you already. Not only you bore me to death, you also piss me off. That’s a worse transgression than either of those before you. I’ve been merciful and understanding with you so far, but I’ve reached my limit.” Myranda, terrified out of her mind, scrambled over to embrace his feet, only to get kicked in the face and made to fly backwards. She was crying rivers. “Don’t touch me with those filthy hands of yours.” he sneered at her.

Leaving her to grovel on the ground, Ramsay stepped in front of his beloved and carefully touched her bleeding shoulder. He slipped off the material of her dress, only to hear the large dog snarling at him. “Shhh, sweetling, don’t worry, he means no harm to me. Thank you for protecting me, my sweet Faye.” Ramsay watched the tender way with which she was praising the dog, and petting her hair. Maternal bitches were fickle and dangerous, yet with Y/N, Faye seemed completely loyal. Good. “Come. I’ll treat it for you.” he spoke gently to her, hoping the harshness of his tone had completely dissipated. Y/N worriedly looked down at Myranda - the Bastard realised she was afraid not for her, but for the neurotic behaviour she displayed as she tried to attack the pups. “I don’t trust her around Faye and her puppies. I don’t want them to get injured because of her.” “THE DOGS ARE TAINTED BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU RUINED THEM!” before Myranda could recover the knife, Y/N already kicked it away - Though the woman was so far gone that she tackled her to the ground, yelling all sorts of perversions and curses as she tried to get ahold of the noble lady’s throat and squeeze the life out of her. Before Ramsay could rip her off, and throw her in the dungeons to punish later, Faye leapt sprung on her and threw her off her new master, chewing at her arms and legs. “Faye! Sweetling, stop, come here - Faye! Leave her be!” much to the bastard’s shock, the dog obeyed immediately and went to the lady’s side, licking at her wound and standing protectively over here. “There, there, sweet girl. Clever girl. You are fantastic.” Ramsay almost felt jealous, with the amount of kisses the bitch was receiving, but the fact still stood - The dog’s loyalty changed in the course of five days. Myranda was the enemy, whilst Y/N was the loving master whom the dog obeyed. Fascinating. He wasn’t sure if the dog could sense the kindness and purity of her soul, or simply, behaved like any manipulated human - But whatever it was that Y/N was doing, she was doing perfectly fine, the same as when she captured his interest and made him fawn over her so completely. “Faye, stand down girl. I’ll take care of Y/N for you.” he felt compelled to offer the dog a few pats on her head, and surprisingly, she licked his hand affectionately - It must have been the way he was always by Y/N’s side whenever she spoiled the dogs, why Faye now possibly saw him as this benevolent master all of a sudden - It was even better than he expected. “As for you, Myranda...” he glared down with disgust at the cowering woman. “Make yourself comfortable in the dungeons.” she whimpered, afraid of the consequences of her own actions. Y/N has completely bewitched her beloved Ramsay Snow. She ruined him.

As Y/N sat on the edge of his bed, her bare shoulder being carefully treated by the man with unexpected delicacy and tenderness - He wasn’t even aware that he, Ramsay Snow, the feared bastard of the North, kneeling in front of her, was capable of something like this... But somehow, it felt... Good. It felt... Natural, like this was how things were supposed to go. He was to protect his fair maiden, and she was to look at him with those pretty eyes of hers, bat her lashes so bashfully and offer him a timid smile. “Does it hurt, my sweet flower?” he looked in her eyes so deep... Deep enough, as he wished he would be buried in her already. “You are very attentive with me, my dear, there is nothing that can hurt if it is you caring for me.” was she using such words to purposely throw him off the rails? Did she want to be thrown on the bed and claimed on the spot? To have her sweet flower taken from her - And that he’ll be gentle with her, and loving, and will make sure it won’t hurt at all? “My intention is to make sure you’re never going to experience anything negative, especially pain. I will deal with that wench later.” he found himself gulping - The more he looked at the unveiled skin, the more he wanted to rip the thin material of her dress and see her in all her glory. “You will have to excuse Myranda. She... Was not in the right state of mind. It cannot be easy for her to accept that... Well... She might still have some more to learn.” Ramsay could see how she tried to find the rights words as to not outright shade the bitch who attacked her, and still maintain that darling facade of hers. “Stop trying to protect her.” he snapped at her. “She knows the rules. If she breaks them, it is her own fault.” Ramsay didn’t realise the edge of his voice until it was too late. “Forgive my tone, My Lady, I didn’t mean to scare you.” But she wasn’t scared, he noticed - Instead, she smiled at him, almost as though it enticed her. “There is nothing to forgive, my sweet Ramsay, after all, you simply spoke your mind - And you are right - She is your servant, and you know  best the way to discipline them. She is old enough to know how to play this game, and if she was too incompetent to get a grip, it is her own fault. I will not attempt to shield her again from any scolding you’d wish to instill upon her.” Y/N could feel Ramsay’s hands stop working on her wound, and after wrapping it up properly, he rose to his feet, cupping her face. “Then, would you join me in her hunt, after we’ve returned from Winterfell?” that sweet, excited smile of hers made his heart beat so fast that it made his mind go hazy - More, his brain completely stopped working once she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Her soft lips were even softer than the flowers, and so plump - He never kissed such sweet lips before, nor has he ever been as addicted to kissing a woman as he was with her, after a single kiss. “I would be honoured to join you, my sweet Ramsay.” though he tried to dive in for another kiss, desperate as a thirsty man in the desert, she ducked under his arm and twirled around away from him, a vixen like smile turning his nether regions aflame. “One at a time, sweet Ramsay - One at a time. I wouldn’t want you to get used to quickly to the sweet fragrance of the Moon’s Queen.” her giggle as she waltzed out of the room almost made him lose his balance - What the hell was she doing to him? Maybe Myranda was right, she was destroying and eroding away at his mind to the point of manipulation - Was she manipulating him? Maybe she was, but he didn’t mind anymore - He needed her like he never needed anything else - And one day, he was going to have her for himself, and never share her with anyone else. Y/N Tyrell was his and only his.

Once the week was over, the Tyrell family were finally moving towards the colder regions of the Seven Kingdoms, all the way to the castle of the Stark family, after stopping to the Dreadfort to collect the eldest daughter. Though cold and snowing, the landscapes were already so beautiful, despite how different they looked from back home. The cold shades of green, white, grey and blue were fantastically blended together into such a picturesque framed painting made by the best artists.

The journey was long and tedious, but it was well worth once they arrived to their destination - They were welcomed very warmly, especially by the children, and were shown their rooms. Y/N and Margaery were also shown the hot baths, so they could relax after such a long ride, and they could use it every time they wished to. The feast was rich and very delicious, but something was missing - A certain Bastard from the Dreadfort, who was to arrive the following day - Why he hadn’t joined Y/N, she was not yet aware, but he promised a surprise, to keep her excited and expecting.

The very next day, Y/N was awaiting the untimely arrival of her favourite bastard by doing the most boring things - Giving embroidery lessons to Sansa, Arya, Jeyne and her sister, made by Lady Catelyn and their Septa. How absolutely terrible, doing nothing but embroidering handkerchiefs and dresses. Dull.

When finally, the Sun went down and allowed the majestic moon rise up, the retinue was invited to the feast - And down there, already waiting at a table, was him - The man with brunet hair and the most piercing blue eyes - He had risen his head to scan the commotion, and upon seeing the girl, a smirk had taken place over his previously bland expression. Getting to his feet, he stepped in front of Lady Y/N and bent at the waist, taking her hand and kissing it. Had she gotten more attractive in the time they were apart, or was he simply missing her too much? It has been barely three days - Why was he so addicted to her?

Just like before, the children were sat at a table, to enjoy the merry feast, the singing and the laughter - But feasts were just that, feasts - And Y/N had always thought feasts were boring as all hells, and she was in grave need of entertainment.

“Sweet Ramsay, you once promised to show me the ethereal, vivid lights of the sky that only the North hosts. Let us slip away from this banquet and have a walk, shall we?” young Y/N whispered into the ear of the bastard, only to get up and leave the halls of the Stark feast, hoping that the brunet wouldn’t take too long to follow - And thankfully, he didn’t, for he was right by her side, with his furs over her, seeing as she shivered once she came in contact with the harsh, cold wind. “Your health comes first, My Lady. If it gets too cold for you, we can always return on the morrow, there is no rush.” Ramsay had his arm around her small form, keeping her flushed to his side, under the pretense of keeping her warm. “Alright, alright, that is quite the bargain. Is it far from here?” she kept trying to imagine the snowy cliff that he described days and months prior, but no matter how much she tried, nothing compared to the crystal-like sparkle of the snow as it reflected the silvery light. “Careful steps, My Lady, the ground is frozen and you might slip.” he pointed out, keeping a tight grip on her, worrying with every wobble she’d make. “How darling of you, my dear... Oh, this forest is gorgeous! This green amongst all this fluffy snow... How lovely!” her excited admiring came to a halt soon. “... Ah! Not so lovely when it’s so cold...” the girl eeped as the snow from one of the branches fell onto her head, mixing with her hair as if it was a flower crown. “How clumsy of you, Lady Y/N. Thankfully, we have arrived. Be very careful, the cliff is steep and there is a lake right underneath.” the man warned as he guided her onto the cliff.

As soon as she stepped out of the woods, she gasped and looked up - The dark blue sky was painted with such a vivid palette of colours that she’s never seen even in the most renowned paintings all over Westeros, or far beyond. The way they undulated in the sky, and how, with the scenery, it almost seemed as if a soft lullaby was playing in tune with every move.

Ramsay told her an old tale that, up there, the lights represent the running souls of every animal that ever lived here, in the North, and that it plays with its kin forevermore. The more he spoke, the more fascinated the girl was, and with that, her eyes sparkled even brighter than the moon and stars combined. How could a creature be so beautiful, in her own innocence? And, most of all, why doesn’t he want to break and taint her? Why doesn’t he want to rip her apart and destroy any ounce of hope and happiness embroidered in that heart of hers?

Instead, he reached his hands up to her hair and kicked some of the snow off, letting only a circlet of frozen flowers around her hair. He gazed down, deep into her eyes that were shining with more life and bliss than he’s ever experienced before in his entire life. He wanted to drink her in like the sweetest ale there was and never let her go. “I may not be able to make you a true Queen, however, My Lady, if you would have me, I would love for you to be my Moon’s Queen. A flower more beautiful than any other around her.” though she looked absolutely mesmerised, she leaned in and shared a sweet kiss with the northman, whose cold hands warmed as he held gingerly her soft face. “I have been rather spoiled until this age, I must say. Not only I had no betrothal obligation, but I could freely pursue any of my passions. I would love nothing more than to call you mine own sweet love, though I have not asked for permission from mine Lord Father. I... I dare not go against his kindness.” though her response was timid, the man before her merely kissed her forehead reassuringly. “Worry not about such trivialities, my sweetling. If you so desire, all shall be taken care of.” his heart was beating so fast, just like an obsessed child that finally got the toy he wanted so badly - He felt absolutely on fire with so many emotions that he couldn’t even name. He felt so powerfully that he could almost feel his fingers digging into her flesh to the point of grinding her bones. It was such a strong feeling of possessiveness - Having Y/N being HIS was like a dream, and he was not going to let anyone take her away from him. ”The reason for arriving so late was that we were awaiting a letter from the King.” he spoke, and on his face, a wide grin that looked almost boyish graced his features. “It is long since I have awaited the good news to come - So long, that I feared they may never come - At last, however, my Lord Father had received the letter.” he quickly took the letter from his pocket, and almost shoved it into the girl’s hands from excitement.  The girl, with her frozen fingers, took the paper into her own hands and her eyes skimmed over it - And she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. “Ramsay -- You did it! You did it! Finally -- O, I am so happy for you!” she pulled him into a few more kisses, much faster and chaste, but they only made the man feel sublime bliss and euphoria. He felt as if he was flying. “Lord Ramsay Bolton.” she breathed out. “That sounds beautiful. Congratulations, my darling, you deserve it. You are now the legitimate heir.” her smile widened even more. “Now that I am a real Lord, I can properly court you and ask your father for your hand in marriage.” he enjoyed so dearly watching the happiness in those fawn eyes of hers - He never imagined that there would ever be a person that would be so genuine with him. She had no reason to use him, and she never scolded him, or looked down on him for being a bastard. In fact, she treated him so much better than anyone ever did, including his own whore of a mother whilst growing up at the mill, or even that heinous Lord father who hated him.

The only one who actually tried to form a bond with him was his half brother... Too bad Ramsay had no intention of having Bolton siblings that would be named heir in his stead. “And once you do... Will you finally tell me of your... Inconspicuous passions of yours? Officially, this time.” the man froze, and his eyes widened in surprise, and a slightly sense of fright - Does she know of his hunting? Or the flaying? Would she run away if she did? He never did confirm anything back at the Dreadfort - Had she somehow gone down to the dungeons and witnessed the tortured and flayed victims? Had Myranda described in morbid details the hunts he officiated? “What is with that look, Lord Bolton? It is unbecoming of someone like you.” she giggled teasingly. “What better way to strike fear into your enemies, than showing them the true meaning of the symbol of your own House?”  Ramsay looked at her, flabbergast - Did he hear those words correctly? That sweet voice of hers, uttering such... Things? Without any bit of fear? “My Lady, what is it that you are implying?” his own voice went lower, barely audible. “Ah, I see, you must be finding some kind joy out of having a lady speaking bluntly.” she hummed as the corner of her mouth twitched upwards, amused, and she brought him closer to her body. “I feel much safer by the side of a man who is unafraid of protecting his people by any means necessary... Whether or not he takes pleasure from inflicting pain on his enemies.” speaking into his ear made the man shudder slightly. “As long as it is not me that comes to harm... Anything goes... And anything can be... Entertaining.” Ramsay gulped and roughly brought the girl at arm’s length, looking down at her with even wider eyes - His breathing was ragged, his heart was beating so, so very fast, and he was feeling heated. In an instant, the new Lord brought his Lady into a deep kiss, from which he didn’t want to let go. How he wanted to bring her to his home again and hold her slender body to his own, without the pestering feeling of so many layers upon layers of furs, leathers and plush clothing.  “You saw right through me, did you not, My Lady?” he asked, between kisses. “And so have you, My Lord.” she retorted immediately, stepping backwards, her hair messy, and in need of breathing.

The lingering feeling of her sweet and delicate petal-like lips left him in such a drunken state, that he didn’t realise the predator going to destroy his new-found euphoria. Before he realised what was going on, Y/N was pushed out of his embrace, close to the edge of the cliff. Ramsay could see the fear and confusion in her eyes, as a loud crack was heard from the hanging body of land she was sprawled over. He yelled out her name and leapt to grab ahold of her hand, hopefully drag her to a safer part of the cliff, but before he could get anywhere close to her, the edge surped, aided by a perfectly aimed arrow, and the girl fell to her doom.

Unable to get up from the snowy ground, Ramsay was in a deep daze, and strongly spiraling. Just now, he had that sweet flower right in his arms, and she was HIS, and now, she had fallen, away from his reach. He was going to destroy the person who did it. Outright shatter. Rip their nails, flay them, pour salt on their flesh, break their bones, gouge their eyes out, pull out each of their teeth, cut a few fingers and toes...

“My love, are you alright?” that voice... That awful voice... He should have wringed her neck and ripped apart her vocal chord and every strand of her hair, should have bashed her skull against the wall until only mush remained. “M-My love...?” how dare she call him that? When did he ever give her the consent to ever use such an endearing name for him, when she’s nothing more than a toy for him to use as he pleases? Has she forgotten her place? Or did she rightfully anticipate that, once he marries Y/N Tyrell, he would throw her in a hunt and get rid of her permanently? What a scared cunt. She doesn’t deserve any bit of him. But why was she in Winterfell, to begin with? She was not taken in the Bolton party - She was supposed to be at the Dreadfort, taking care of the kennel. Pathetic and disobedient. There was going to be hell to pay. “You stupid, dumb cunt. What have I told you, all this time? You think that killing Y/N would make me spare you? No, Myranda, you are dead wrong. Jealousy bores me. You know what happens to people who bore me. And not only you bored me, but you angered me beyond any boundary. You know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you, you dumb whore.” in his fit of rage, he wasn’t even able to rejoice in the desperate, frightened cries, nor in the complete fear that was gleaming in her eyes. No amount of blood spilled on his body, nor how much pain he was putting her through helped, because just like the broken marionette that she was, her strings were cut and she was easily thrown in the trash, where she belonged. But she wasn’t dead - And nor did he want her dead... Not just yet. “If you want me to spare you, you better return home. Otherwise... I will make sure I find you - And when I do... You will wish that the cold had taken you.” Ramsay threatened the woman after choking her, before he took off some of the layers of fur and stared down at the freezing cold water - He was a northman, he had taken such baths before. He wasn’t fond of them, but he was resistant to the cold. All northmen had to get their body strong and immune to such freezing temperatures since very young. “Y/N... Y/N, I will find you... Whether you are dead or alive, I will find your body.” he muttered to himself during his hyper-fixated state, and he jumped down from the cliff, diving down into the bone-chilling freezing water and swimming down.

He easily spotted the girl, as his own fur coat was weighting her down massively, but thanks to his northman strength, he took off her coat and managed to swim up with both the unconscious girl and the furs that will prove, once dry, a perfect means of keeping her body temperature up. That is, if he can even get that thick thing to dry any time soon.

Though difficult, Ramsay was able to swim to the surface and picked the girl up in his arms, looking for some shelter, and much to his shock, there was a small fisherman’s hut and a fire seemed to illuminate from the inside.  He knocked on the door, hoping the peaceful method would make due, but as the fisherman answered the door and outright denied them entry, seeing the pin of the Flayed Man on his vest, Ramsay blocked the door with his boot, and leaning the girl on one of his arms, he took out a dagger and slit the old man’s throat.

What a dumbass. He was going to let him live, should he have been more hospitable. Too bad.

Carefully, the bastard placed the unconscious girl on the furs on the ground so he could take off her clothes and put them on the string to dry, just next to the hot fire that the fisherman had made to cook a stew. ‘Perfect’ the man thought, knowing the girl would need to eat something warm to get better.

But thoughts about the stew were far gone as he reached her undergarments and instinctually pulled them away, leaving her soft body on display. Though a hue milky to light blue from the freezing water, she still looked so enticing that Ramsay thought, just by looking alone, his clothes would dry immediately from how hot he felt. He could catch fire and immolate immediately from how he was suffocating.

The Bolton bastard couldn’t believe that he got to see his paramour’s body like that, thought he was glad that at least, he knew how to save her. How to care for a hypothermic body, how to maintain a fire, dry the furs and make food - Otherwise, she’d be long dead.

Still, he put his own clothes on the string to dry after putting the only blanket available over the girl, tucking her in... But it wasn’t enough. She was shivering, and she looked paler than before. His body was feeling even more hot now that he realised the only way to warm her up was to hold her naked body flushed to his own. What a sacrilege for noblemen of this era. Lady Y/N Tyrell was an unmarried maiden, she should choose death, rather than allow her skin to be touched by a man - A bastard, no less, be him legitimized or not... Or at least, that’s how that stupid church dictated the laws.

He was going to burn the church from the ground and hold Y/N so tight that all of his lustful fire would transfer to her. Getting behind her, he wrapped his strong arms over her small form and kept stroking her damp hair, hoping to take some of the water away from it. 

Time was passing at an unknown time, but unlike her body, his was feeling ablaze. His grip tightened even more once he heard his name being spoken out so lightly, barely above a whisper. Ahh, the way she was mewling out his name - “Ramsay... Ramsay...” was driving him crazy to the point of spontaneously combusting. “Yes, my sweet flower, I am here. Do not fear, I am right here.” he mumbled into her ear, yet it seemed to be left unheard. “Cold... S-So cold... So... C-Cold...” she kept shivering over and over in such a weak voice that it made the bastard’s nether regions go aflame from lust. Her weakened state was so fragile and easy to break. Her body and mind were completely in his hands, and he had complete control over her very being. “We have been staying this way for hours, my sweetling. Are you still cold?” he asked, frowning as he realised that her trembling hasn’t diminished in the least and that her skin was as cold as ice. “Cold... Too cold...” she was repeating the same words like a broken doll. Pondering, Ramsay immediately jolted into a sitting position, taking the girl up to sit on his lap, her soft chest pressed flush against his own. He could feel her hardened rose buds poking him from the cold. “Are you really cold, my darling?” he asked in an almost poisoned-sweet voice, watching her head lull as she nuzzled her face into the side of his neck, her hands placed on his chest, humming in approval. She was so out of it from the cold, it was unreal how vulnerable she was. “I know a way to make you warm from the inside out, but a sweet maiden like you, with no husband, might not agree to it.” he teased her girl in a low, sultry voice. “I’mm’a d-die... S-So cold... D-Don’t wanna...” hearing that, the man cupped her face and made her look at him - Her hooded lids and dazed expression was enough of a trigger for him, and he didn’t await any other answer. He pulled her into a deep kiss, so filled with passion as he’s never kissed anyone ever before, and his hands pulled the blanket over her form, before he got a firm grip on her hips. “Do you want me to warm you up, despite not being you husband? Do you want me, Y/N? Tell me that you want me, Y/N, and I will make you feel as though you are back in that comforting warmth of Highgarden. Just say the words, Y/N. Say them.” he kept pressuring her between kisses, and for a few moments, she felt lucid. Those firm, warm hands were dragging her soul back to her body and re-awakening her miraculously. “You said I was your Moon’s Queen, didn’t you? Then, it matters little whether I have yet a husband or not, for I have you. You said you will go to my father and ask for us to be married. Do not keep me waiting any longer, I am freezing.” the little flower was demanding of him, how brave of her, Ramsay thought, as he felt himself suffocating with desire.  “People of Highgarden are free to explore their pleasure, you once said. Have you ever been touched by a man?” the girl shook her head. “A woman, perhaps?” once again, she denied. “Yourself...?” nothing. “Not as adventurous as you claim, are you, my dear?” “Stop taunting me... I’m freezing.” she muttered, casting her gaze to the side, only to feel the skin of her neck attacked by those lips of his, kissing all over, and licking and sucking, even grazing his teeth, almost as if biting. The girl could barely contain her sweet sighs, her fingers holding tightly onto his shoulders for support. “Don’t hide those beautiful sounds from me, Y/N. I want to witness everything about you.” that low husky voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand up from desire. He wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, the beginning of a sickness, or simply, the cold, but those splendid eyes of hers were gleaming - It only made her look even more ethereal, if that was even possible. “Your tears are getting me excited, my darling flower - It couldn’t be that this was your plan all along, could it? Fall into my arms like a damsel in distress and seduce me with the sweet melody of a nightingale?” kissing down her throat, Ramsay could feel the vibration of a whimper, which only made him feel more suffocated. “You are driving me crazy, Y/N.” “You’re going to kill me before you can warm me up properly - Was this your plan, then? To make me die of embarrassment?” her bottom lip quivered softly, feeling his hardening member putting pressure on the length of her watery slit. “What is there to be embarrassed about, my sweet flower? It is only what a husband should do to his lovely lady. In fact, it should be me complaining about the things that you do to me. The amount of restraint that I proved was above what I imagined myself capable of.” he sighed into her ear, making her shiver against his touch. “You came over into my bed, nights on end, wearing only that sheer nightgown of yours. You think men and animals aren’t alike, my lady, but when you tease me, there is not much I can do to hold back the feral desire that I have for you.” he felt one of your hands caressing his cheek, then raking up through the messy dark ringlets of his hair, tugging lightly at him - He gritted his teeth to the point of thinking they were going to shatter. He was losing his grip on reality, but he knew he couldn’t give up yet - He didn’t want to harm his sweet flower. “It was no different for me, my sweet Ramsay - Bound to rules and regulations, and a desire to drive you crazy enough to want me more than air itself.” the weak smirk of hers only made him pull her into deeper kisses, his tongue slipping in to explore every inch of her mouth. “I wanted have you as crazy in love for me, as you made me for you. Do you have any idea how much I wanted your arms around me, and you to speak only my name? I want you mine and nobody else’s.” “You’ve been a good girl for me, my sweet flower. Let me reward you for all the times that you’ve teased me to the point of losing my restraints. Were it not for the need of warming you, I would have taken my time with you more, until you were such a mess that the only word you remembered was mine name. I wanted to see you come undone before me, times and times again, and still, I wouldn’t have been satisfied.” carefully, he lay her down on the bed, her back slightly raised by the mound the fur blanket made for her. “It is about time I spoil my sweet lady the way she deserves.”

Ramsay’s hands were on either side of her head, looking down at the precious lady, with her long hair sprawled all over, and a glazed expression of bliss mixed with love and lust sparkling in her eyes. For the first time, Y/N was exposing herself as vulnerable and willing to submit to his every whim. One of his hands trailed down her throat - And oh how delicious she looked with his hand clasping over her neck - And down to the mounds of her breast and the erect buds which he teased with a short pinch. The small twitch of her body only made him feel more smug, as he attacked the rose bud with his tongue, one arm underneath her torso to keep herself up, while the other went down to feel her thigh, and in between. All her beautiful skin was hers to touch, and it was no longer as freezing cold as before. “You are mine, Y/N.” he whispered against her skin as his fingers found their way teasingly trailing across her womanhood with such gentleness that she thought it was a feather torturing her with anticipation.  “Then make me yours.” her comment him chuckle, the vibration against her skin instinctively making her bite her lip as she tried to close her legs to create some friction for her aching, teased core. “I will, darling, I will - Be patient. It is your fault that I can’t help myself from taking my sweet time teasing you. Your body is so honest, betraying your need for me.” a soft gasp escaped as he pulled her thighs apart. “Much better, isn’t it?” and he trailed his fingers towards the little bundle that he knew would create such desperate reactions. “I can’t allow you to do this to yourself. It is me who makes you feel this way - And it is me who will offer you your sweet release.” “You’re so cruel to me - It’s not fair!” she breathed out, her cheeks reddening, her body squirming for his touch.  “Are you feeling bothered just from this, my sweetling? Well - Aren’t you the most precious little thing in the world.” he really couldn’t help himself - His lips found themselves over hers once more, and he took turns between kissing and biting at those soft petals, whilst his hand was applying more pressure, all the way from  the top, and downwards, at such an agonizingly slow pace. His touch was intoxicating. It was maddening. This man was insane, and everything he did made her head spin with every repeated motion, each time, with more and more pressure applied, feeding onto every little gasp and twitch and whimper, her inability to keep quiet making him go feral. “Sing for me, my little nightingale - I love your melody the most.” he said as he held her face up, forcing her to looking into his crazy eyes - Eyes dripping with lust and obsession - He was watching her like a sadist as she tried to keep any bit of composure she had left, and as he cupped her womanhood, playing with her special bud to the point that her body twitched and she gasped - Her torso arches whilst she gripped down on the furs and her legs tried to close once again. “Now THAT is the reaction I was hoping for!” he found himself laughing like an obsessed child, happy to get his puppet move the way it wanted. He drank in her moans as the hand gripping her face was now carefully placed over her throat. “I could snap your neck so easily, like the frail flower that you are - Yet here I am, indulging you to the point of driving myself mad, not only you. You have made a fool out of me, my darling.” Through hooded lids, Y/N looked up at the gorgeous face of the man having far too much fun pleasuring her. “You’re already killing me in more ways than you realise.” with a smirk, his mouth trailed down with kisses from her forehead, down to her chin and her now unveiled throat, and down to her chest, grazing his teeth against her nipple, almost as if he was trying to distract her from the way his fingers were slipping on the wetness of her core.

“My, my, so needy for me, aren’t you? My sweet little flower is so greedy.” his head slowly lowered down to her abdomen, and between her thighs, planting kisses on the supple flesh of her legs. “I will give you pleasure like no woman in this world felt before.” that low, alluring voice of his hypnotised her as he positioned himself against her cunt, her legs over his shoulders, and gripping on the plush of her thighs, his fingers digging into them firmly while his other hand pinned her waist down onto the bed, rendering her unable to squirm from his intoxicating touch, his lips kissed the sensitive area which sent a bolt of electricity through her veins, earning gasp after gasp and timid moans that only made him ache.

His eyes looked up at her, drinking in the way her body convulsed so sincerely just with the way his tongue was teasing her - But he wanted more - So much more. Sinful sighs echoed through the small cabin as he kissed and sucked at her bud, and then more, when his wet, hot tongue danced inside her cave. Sounds so hedonistic that, should the church have known, would have punished her for being a temptress, though the way she mewled his name... “Ramsay... Ramsay...” so broken, her fingers ripping into the furs, drove him over the edge.

His cock was so hard, just by hearing those lustful please of her, so desperate for him, he couldn’t help but imagine that pretty mouth of hers around him, his hand on the back of her head, pushing her up and down until she choked and cried, sucking and kissing and licking him like he was her last meal on earth, and then more, him painting white with his seed, that innocent fawn-like face of her, gorgeous above all, and down on her teats, and on her hands and body, as she begged for more of his milk like the desperate, needy kitten that she is for him.

Oh, the things he’d have her do for him, in the near future - But for now, he was content edging and pleasuring her, just enough so that she’ll be screaming his name and even her parents will hear her, all the way from Winterfell, and then some more. She was such a good little girl, all for him, so hopeful and obedient, and needy - All for him. ONLY for him. HIS Y/N.

“R-Ramsay, stop, I-I... I can’t, I--” that pitched, broken cry, trying to hard to remain coherent yet unable to, as her legs tried to clamp around his head and even his hand was unable of holding her down completely. Lady Y/N Tyrell has experienced her first sweet release, all thanks to his tongue alone.  “What a good girl, Y/N - Was it good, my darling? Do you want more?” he asked, his hands gripping on her tights, holding them on either side of his waist as he towered down to her level, gazing with the eyes of the devil, speaking to her in whispers that would make the devil feel shame. “Y-Yes...” she managed to rasp out despite her embarrassment, yet he took her wrists away from her face as she tried to hide. “Yes - What, my dear? What is it that you want? Tell me what do you want me to do.” he pulled her hands to his face, kissing the inside of her wrist, watching her struggle to speak as honestly as her body did. “I want you - Ramsay, I want you - I want you to claim me. My heart, my soul, my body - Make me yours, my sweet Ramsay. I want you to make me yours.” and how could he resist that sweet voice of hers - The voice of an angel, speaking the filth of the devil - The most beautiful woman in the world craving for his body as much as he did hers. How could he deny her, when he is a slave to her desires. “That’s my good girl.” he cradled her face, refusing to bend down and kiss those sweet lips of hers, and instead, forcing her to watch, to look into his eyes, so dangerously close to her, as he teased her sensitive bundle once again, yet this time, Y/N felt the electricity shortcircuit her wires even more, her whole body felt aflame from the pleasure overheating every inch of her - Every twitch, every mewl, it made the man throb more. He wanted to bury himself inside her warmth at once, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt, toying with her body like this.

The way her body begged so sincerely for him, for his touch, as he entered a single digit into her core - The way she clenched around him only made him imagine the drunkening sensation his cock would feel, held prisoner inside her wet prison. It was no secret - She needn’t say any word, for her body spoke everything she couldn’t, and describes so well the way she loved the way he moved inside of her - So slow, so teasing, curling, sending waves of electrifying pleasure through all her nerves - And he added another finger, and her fingers were digging crevasses into his skin, leaving red trails down his paleness, all from the intense feeling building up more and more. She was so close, Ramsay could feel another release threatening to escape - She was so close, so, so dangerously close that it was excruciating how close it felt - 

He took out his fingers and palmed her cunt, applying pressure on her sensitive bundle, making a tragic heat suffocate her, only to turn pained and frustrated from the denial. “Wh-Why... Why did you stop? You sadistic jerk - Is this torture what I deserve for teasing you?” she panted, deep and in agony, as his smirk only widened with twisted wickedness, and positioned himself to her entrance, leaning down over her body as one hand held up her body, while the other he used to hold himself up, trapping the girl completely under him, getting a better angle at abusing the skin of her neck. “Why, you ask? My sweetling, I simply want you to get so completely lost in this feeling that you won’t know anything else but the pleasure I’m giving you.” he muttered in her ear, feeling her stiffen, and pulling her into a passionate kiss, he slowly entered her soaked heat. Each sweet thrill she made, he drak away, and every time his cock touch a sweet spot, her nails would attack his toned back as if she were a kitten destroying the drapes. “You’re taking me so well, my love.” he said, his mind going black, watching himself pully sheathed inside of her, head held back from the pleasure she was feeling, amplified by her mark he was leaving on her skin, to the point that he was unsure there was any bit of skin left untouched and unkissed. A smile almost impish painted her face, succumbing entirely to the hot waves of pleasure drowning her as her walls clenched down around him, unwilling to let him go.

“Look at you, enjoying yourself so shamelessly. I assure you, no noble lady was ever treated this way by her lord husband. Those arrogant fucks are too afraid to explore the body they crave so much. All they know is to make heirs, but they don’t know how to enjoy it.” his breathing was ragged against her skin, though he was unsure if her mind could hear his words properly. The small bulge he created at her belly with each thrust of his member drove him to madness - She were a slave to his body, as much as he was hers - He disallowed her to get used to any pace, be it faster and sloppy, or slower and deep, yet each time, that sweet spot was hit, she’d let out a new sound that he hadn’t heard before. The cabin was filled with nothing but passionate words spoken with such fire and filth. “My sweet flower, do you want your release?” he asked against her lips, her hands gripping his hair as to force him down into a kiss. “Yes...” she exhaled between the passion. “Then beg me, my darling. Beg me to bring you over the edge of this world.” the girl whined, face red with shame. “If you don’t... Well, I’ve already given you a taste of denial. Tonight I’m feeling merciful - I’m giving you a choice... Do you want to cry my name from the pleasure of release, or... Mayhaps you wish to whine as I leave you here all alone.” he gently captured her quivering bottom lip, graving his teeth over its plumpness. “Though, without me filling you, I suppose you’d get desperate enough to pleasure yourself, and... I cannot deny, your insatiable greed is something that I desire to see.” “I will be the one doing the flaying if you dare leave me like this--” he couldn’t help but grin in amusement - How adorable she looked, attempting to threaten him, all because of her neediness. How very precious.  “Then come undone for me, my love.” he held her even tighter as his pace roughened, her legs wrapped tight around his getting him even closer to her, if possible.

His name was mewled one last time for the night, a sinful, desperate thrill that drove him to an even more brutal pace as he rode her release, watching pleasure take over her senses - Ramsay buried his face into her shoulder, biting onto her flesh and he felt his own release paint her walls white. Once the clouding euphoria start to unfog his mind, he lazily propped himself up, watching the dazed look on Y/N’s face, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to breathe properly after all the pleasure that he drowned her in. Slowly, he took his cock out of her, watching with a sense of accomplishment and devilry as his seed seeped out of her. He hadn’t felt so good before, with his body pushed flush against a woman’s, not did his mind go hay-write when any cunt would shriek his name as he fucked her into oblivion - Yet that body of hers drove him crazy, and her nightingale song was truly special if it was able to burn him like that.

With a satisfied smirk, Ramsay looked down at her flushed face, and played with a strand of her now dry hair - Though her breathing had evened out to some degree, the high was still possessing her. “Was that treatment worthy of a Queen, my sweet flower?” he spoke, taking the lobe of her ear in his mouth, playfully chewing on it, before tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue. “So... When’s the wedding?” she let out an amused exhale, only to find herself switching positions, placed on his lap and with him already inside of her all the way, his arms almost blowing away the air from her lungs as he embraced her tightly, his body glued to her own. “What - Didn’t think I’d just let you go, did you? I’ve got a lot more of the frustration you pent up on me to release, my dear. It is your fault - Own up to it.”

Though the night was long, it passed by like a breeze for the two lovers, intertwined within their lust and desire for once another, yet once the sun was fully up in the sky and the furs and clothes were all but dry, and the food that the old man cooked was finished, the two left the sinful cabin and returned to the castle that housed the Warden of the North and his people. Though they didn’t stay for long, Ramsay, with his new claim of legitimacy, asked Mace Tyrell for his daughter’s hand in marriage, and seeing his sweet  Y/N so excited, he couldn’t help but agree. The Boltons might not be the most affluent family, but relationships in the North were just as important, yet nowhere as much as her happiness.

Once Y/N and Ramsay returned to the Dreadfort for a few days of time spent together, whilst the Reach was to prepare for the wedding ceremony, grandiose and worthy of the second most wealthy in the realm. Meanwhile, the Ramsay invited his darling down to the dungeons, where Myranda was tied up to a wooden X. “Myranda - I present to you Lady Y/N Tyrell, the most beautiful woman in the realm, and, coincidentally, my wife! Isn’t that fantastic?” Ramsay’s poisoned cheerfulness as he presented the woman as though the two never met made the flower chuckle. “Her lips are so sweet, she’s got me addicted.” he continued, pulling her into a tender kiss that only grew more desperate with each and every heartbroken protest from the kennel master’s daughter. “What is it, Myranda? You think Lady Y/N is beautiful? Well, you should see her body! You’ll lose your mind!” with one swift move, Ramsay unlaced and unburdened the Tyrell girl from her dress and pulled her up to sit on a desk, offering the perfect view to the tied up woman, as his hands roamed up and down Y/N’s soft flesh. “I know Myranda, I know - I’ve lost my mind too just seeing her... But when I’m side her and she cries out my name so sweetly... I can’t help but melt and feel like a slave before her.” he admitted, burying himself inside her wet core, his grip on her tightening harshly from how good she felt, but also, the desperate, broken and hopeless sobs from the jealous woman only fueled his animalistic desire for Y/N’s body. “There’s nothing better in this world then getting drunk on you, my sweet Queen of the Moon. I’ll never let go of you.”

After ripping at least two sweet thrills from the woman coming undone in his embrace, Y/N kissed him with so much fire that he was ready to perform more - Until he heard her whisper in his ear, enticing him for illicit activities. “Hey, Myranda - Are you ready for a hunt?”

[littlepadika]

Little Duck Goes to Market

Pero Tovar x Reader(Patitia), mention of ddlg, how they met

Hope you enjoy, my patitas! 😘 unedited just vibing :)

The first cool breeze of the summer slid in through the cracked window of the truck as you and pero went into town. It had been a particularly good harvest which meant you and pero were taking the surplus to the saturday farmer's market.

Home was a twenty minute drive into a small farming village. Every saturday neighboring farmers and locals would set up stalls with trinkets, clothes, produce, fresh bread, flowers. The make up of the merchandise would change as the season got colder. Fruits to vegetables to canned goods then sweet breads and jerky.

"Excited patita?" Pero reached over the seat and laid a hand over your thigh.

"Mhm. I love it!"

"I know you do, bebita." He chuckled.

"I think Elena will have flowers for our table, papi. And Rebecca told me last week she had some beads I can have! OH and Arturo should be back from the city with all new candies!" You rattle off this information which makes him smile more.

"Ay you will be so busy will you have time to help papi?"

"Of course!" You lean over and kiss his scruffy cheek.

You loved the saturday market. The idea you were seeing special treasures and food grown with love. It was endless possibility. It's where you first met Pero. You were new in town, hardly knew anyone. You had come across his stall and bought a honey stick from him...

Pero thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, wearing bright yellow rain boots and a white dress like a little duck. He hoped he wasn't blushing too hard when he handed you the little treat. He kept his lips in a tight line and head bent to avoid his scar from showing.

"How much?" You asked, reaching into your bag.

"No cost." He waved his hand. Such a small thing. You should have it.

"No I couldn't!" You shook your head, holding a bill out.

"It's my extra. I have plenty already." He crossed his arm, refusing to take your money.

"What about this?" You searched his stall before holding up a carton of tomatoes. "How much now?"

"No charge. Take it." Pero shook his head again, keeping his arms against his chest. You frown but it doesn't last long until it becomes a grin.

"Okay..." You set down the tomatoes and start to leave.

"No- take it. Take it." He held up the carton. "Please." As he leaned forward into the bright sun you could see his face more clearly. There was a prominent scar over his brow but it did not take away from his chiseled jawline and full lips. His eyes were brown and held no hardness even through his gruff demeanor.

You take the tomatoes with heat in your face.

You returned the next week and the next, stopping by his stall for a honey stick. Sometimes you'd indulge in his other items. The tomatoes were perfect in a sauce and you also loved his chard lettuce. It was always him by himself. A hulking man who seemed out of place in this small village. He always wore blue overalls with fraying pockets with a couple dirt spots over the front, with some sort of dark shirt underneath. Every time he'd refuse your offer of money. And a delusional voice said it was because he liked you though he never showed any other exeptional kindness towards you. He did not charge hardly anything for his products which told you he was generous. People in this town were struggling and already selling what little they had.

He indulged you in short conversation about the weather or the people in the village. You caught glimpses into his secluded life. He owned two chickens, a small bee hive, had a sprawling garden which provided almost all the food he needed year round, a horse which he spoke of fondly. He mostly listened to you talk, maybe out of nervousness you would overshare. But you told him about the city where you came from, what you studied at university, the latest house project that was keeping you busy, why you wanted to move to the country.

You perused the other stalls for something you might be able to give him in return for the free honey sticks. Old books, worn shoes, watches that did not work anymore. Settling on the only thing that really spoke to you, you wandered back to his stall one saturday and placed a small bouquet of crocus still in their bulbs next to his till.

When he looked up at you questioningly, you simply smiled shyly slipping back into the crowd. Little did you know how that made his heart melt. He watched you, always watched you as you walked from stall to stall. To the point it was distracting him from selling off any of his lot. His hands itched to feel the warm skin of your collarbone, to feel your sunkissed cheeks. He watched you jump with both feet into a puddle left from overnight rain. Not caring about your pretty dress. Almost like you were in your own little perfect world. He wished he could be part of it. He would think of you as the week went on, looking forward to seeing you again. Selecting the fattest honey stick to be set aside for you. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to be close to someone so alive.

You had grown close with the two women, Elena and Rebecca, who lived down the road from you. They told you Pero (his name was Pero) lived away from the village, keeping to himself. They gossiped that he had fought in a foreign war and came back with a massive treasure to keep him comfortable for all his days.

"If it were me, I'd move to paris and never work another day in my life."

"He must be traumatized from the war. That's why he lives alone and hordes his treasure."

Curiosity took hold and you found yourself lingering by his stall at the end of the market.

"Can I help you pack up?" You offer as he stacks the crates on top of each other.

"I can manage." He responds. Well, he didn't tell you go to away. You watch him hoist the crates onto the bed of his truck. There wasn't much left in them. They had been full a couple weeks ago. You busy yourself with folding up the off white sheet he had over the table.

"I won't be back next week." He says, turning and facing you.

"Oh." You feel your heart deflate a little. You'd miss seeing him. And your honey stick. "Are you traveling?"

"No. I have sold all my surplus." he gestures towards his truck. "I will not return until I have more to give."

"Ah." You say when you realize he was not going to explain more. "So... you don't come simply to look for things for yourself?"

"There is nothing I need." He shrugs though in the back of his mind there was something or someone new that may bring him into town. Summoning his best smile he said, "Gracias for the crocuses. I planted them the day you gave them to me. They continue to bloom."

"You're welcome." You smile, taking a step towards him. "I believe in repaying kindness with kindness."

"If only more shared your sentiment." He smiles slightly. "I should go." And at least he sounds sorry about it.

You saw no point in going to the next saturday market because he wouldn't be there. You had plenty of produce and really did not need to be spending more money on trinkets. Your new home was falling apart around you. No one had lived here in years. You threw yourself in the renovations and hardly noticed the sun sink lower and lower in the sky.

"Pollito! Can you help us move our stall? The damn wheel broke on that missing cobblestone."

"Of course." You set down your spackle. When you reach the street most of the vendors are paking up but standing in the middle of the street is Pero. His broad form easy to spot. Why was he here? He sees you and immediately starts walking towards you.

"Pollito! Here lend a hand-"

"Shhhh" Elena shushes her, watching Pero approach.

"Hello." He nodded, twisting a cap in hand.

"Hello." You reply, linking your hands behind your back.

"I was looking for you. I mean- I came to see you."

You feel your heart race with excitement and something rear up in you that wanted to dance around in the golden hour light.

"Here, for you, patita." He held out an object you knew well. A honey stick!

~~~~~~~~