#anyway back to Crown of Fire with me

[athalantan]

Speaking of the Simbul, what kills me is I actually love their dynamic, but it is so,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,weird for me that she's technically Mystra's daughter and El raised 3 of her sisters

[nerdpoe]

Tim takes a prank too far. This is, of course, relatively normal for him to not know when it is normal to stop playing along.

Damian makes yet another quip about Tim not being good enough or whatever, Tim doesn't really know he wasn't really paying attention, and Tim.

Tim has an epiphany.

A long time ago, back when Young Justice was still relatively new and getting neck-deep in intergalactic and interdimensional trouble, he'd made a friend.

That friend is a little difficult to get ahold of, and he hates the method he has to use to do so, so he doesn't usually reach out.

But he really, really wants to fuck with Damian.

He brings out the mangled, horrible amalgamation of old tech, future tech, and fantasy tech that creates a block that could vaguely be a cell phone (this horrid thing is the bane of his existence and he hates it so fucking much), and makes the call.

"Hey is there anyway you could pretend to kidnap me after a long, boring monologue broadcasted across Gotham? I really need you to state that the reason you're 'getting me out of the way' is because I was the best Robin. No, I'm not Robin anymore. No, I'm...I'm Red Robin now. Stop laughing. What do you mean restaurant chain?! Danny. Danny. Come on, lemme take a week long vacation in the Realms. Please? Sweet, see you soon, just gotta let me pack real quick."

That night, as Red Robin is out on patrol, the sky turns into a sickly green. Purple fog rolls in, disjointed whispers giggle and gossip from mouths unseen, and every single screen in the city of Gotham is forcibly turned on to broadcast the speech of a white haired, fae-looking villain.

He wears a black and white jumpsuit, a Green Lantern Ring that keeps glitching out the camera focus around it, and a crown of ice that moves like fire.

He give a grand speech about how he's going to get back at Robin, for foiling his plans. That Robin was better than his any other who has ever borne the name, and he wanted it to be known to the world that this was an honorable battle he'd had to struggle with. That, regardless of losing the first time, in order to ensure the success of his plans this time he's going to take Robin out of the picture early.

The Bats get prepared to defend Damian with their life, Damian who is strangely flattered; only for the villain to hold up a seemingly unconscious Red Robin and dramatically disappear into a green portal.

The sky goes back to normal, and the fog and whispers go away.

Damian is pissed. Then worried. Then both.

He will rescue the fool and prove he is superior.

Meanwhile, Danny and Tim are catching up and vibing as Danny puts the Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire back in their special places. He doesn't need them or anything, they just had that 'villain' vibe he'd needed.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

[not-my-final-account]

I’VE FALLEN DOWN THE RABIT HOLE OF DANNY PHANTOM AND NOW I CAN’T ESCAPE

Once the Justice League was losing. It was the end of the world. No seriously, the world was an hour away from being blown to bits.

-

Constantine sighed and rubbed his face, he had just ran out of cigarettes and it was making him more jumpy than was truely necessary in any given situation. Him and most of the bigger heros in the Justice League sat in a cave and were forced to wait out the apocalypse, well, the hour left of it anyways.

Constantine sighed and looked up to what you could see of the sky from inside their cave, he was almost… afraid. Afraid of what was going to happen, afraid that it had come to this, afraid that the rumours were true or even worse than they seemed, Pariah Dark was not known for caring nor his mercy.

Honestly Constantine was going to consider it lucky if he died and got to rest in peace, even more lucky if the world actually got saved! This was a last ditch effort.

Constantine grabbed a piece of chalk from his pocket, it was worn from years of carrying it around. He settled it on the flattest piece of stone he could find and started drawing the circle he had memorised. “John what are you doing?” Wonder Woman asked, he ignored her and took a deep breathe

“Oh dark king of the ghosts.” he prayed, there were truely only a few necessary words but Constantine felt like he needed to add a message, so he kept speaking as he drew the intricate patterns of the circle “My world may be of no importance to you, but I am willing to make a deal to save it. Please accept my summon, please be merciful, please save earth, please K I N G O F T H E G H O S T S.” Constantine begged, Wonder Woman and most of the others sat up or got more defensive, it truely said something that Batman didn’t bother.

-

Danny Phantom sat playing DOOM with Sam and Tucker, cheering when we got to a higher level. Suddenly something tugged at his core and a voice whispered through his ears

…oh dark king of the ghosts. My world may be of no importance to you, but I am willing to make a deal to save it. Please accept my summon, please be merciful, please save earth, please…

“-anny? Danny?” Sam asked “Hello?” she said in a sing song voice

“Still with us Danny?” Tucker asked, Danny swallowed,

“I- I’ve got to go.” he said

-

Constantine sat on his knees in front of the circle and… nothing happened, Superman glanced at him and started to sit back down when suddenly the stone inside the circle fell away into a green spiral.

Superman gasped and jumped back up

“Don’t attack him, bow.” Constantine instructed, reluctantly Superman and everyone else did, except for Batman of course, what’d you expect? Him to change? Just because the world was ending?

A pale hand reached up from the circle and grabbed the edge; whoever was in the circle pulled themself up slowly and as they came closer to the mortal realm Superman got a sense of dread, of death, of… something else, of authority, and everyone in the room seemed to find themselves bowing lower. Superman couldn’t help but think, had Constantine double-doomed the world?

-

Constantine looked up as the figure hovered above the circle, he was the first to move from his bow. This… wasn’t what Constantine expected Pariah Dark to look like, he was still imposing but didn’t fit the ghost kings reputation.

He had a cape as dark as the shadows with glowing constellations and stories sown into the fabric. He had a crown that burned with green fire and floated above his head, his eyes glowed the same green as the crown and his hand had a single ring. He wore royal looking clothes, white boots and gloves with a black shirt and pants.

This was the ghost king “Pariah Dark, King of Ghosts. I am Constantine-”

“Pariah Dark? I dethroned him years ago! I’m Danny Phantom.” the ghost king introduced.

“I meant no disrespect your highness.” Constantine quickly said

“I don’t- never mind. You asked for me to save earth?” King Phantom asked, Constantine gulped

“Y-yes, we can’t win, please, I- I’ll do anything.” he begged,

“A favour.” King Phantom said

“What?” Constantine asked

“A favour, I’ll save your world for a favour from you and your friends.” King Phantom said.

A favour to a ghost king who was probably very evil, that is so stupid and such a horrible idea, who in their right mind would-

“Deal.” Constantine agreed.

There was a flash of bright light and King Phantom disappeared, after a few seconds of him being gone the sounds of a battle echoed through the cave.

“Constantine what did you just rope us into?” Batman asked. Constantine really, really needed a cigarette.

-

Years ago, the world was ending. In a last ditch effort Constantine summoned… something. Superman didn’t know much about the ghost king that had appeared, just that he was powerful, and that the better half of the Justice League owed him a favour. It had been on everyone’s minds for a few months after that deal, waiting for the day they would be called for something horrific and hoping it wouldn’t ruin them or their morals. But truthfully, after a few years everyone sorta forgot about it; it was the type of thing no one remembered unless the subject at hand related to it, and even then you were uneasy for a day and forgot all over again.

So when a scroll appeared in a flash of green light during a meeting one day, Superman would like to say that the freaking out was justified.

Batman (who seemed to adopt everyone he met in one way or another) shushed the group of panicking superhero’s and picked up the scroll “I am calling in your favour, when you finish reading this you will all be teleported to my aid. Signed, Phantom.” Batman read. Oh no.

In another flash of green light they appeared in a park with a few heros who hadn’t even been in the room. Everyone immediately put up their defences and raised various weapons, then they realised the park was empty. Superman looked around using X-ray vision, he had no clue what was going on in the seemingly peaceful that could make a ghost king ask for help, then he looked through a hill and saw a giant green dog running with two kids gripping it’s lead.

As the dog jumped on top of then off the hill and ran in front of them Superman could make out the words in their screams

“Sit boy, sit!” the Batman looking one called

“I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! NO OFFENCE DANNNYYYY!!!” the one with devices falling out of his bag and pockets yelled.

Everyone lowered their weapons and Flash relaxed and scoffed

“This is what that ghost guy called us in for? This is going to be a breeze!” Flash said happily

“Don’t judge a book by its cover Flash.” Constantine warned. Superman was about to agree with flash when the ghost king suddenly appeared in the air in front of us, dripping in something green which looked alarmingly like blood- oh god the ghost king was dying!? Re-dying?!

“Forget I said anything,” Flash raised his hands in the air and got ignored as we rushed over to the ghost king who had fallen out of the air and onto the ground.

Before anyone could do anything though another person appeared out of thin air and then floated down

“Join me Daniel! Together we could rule the world!” he asked, okay that was an evil guy if Superman had ever seen one, he even had the looks to go with it, you could mistake him as Dracula … was that Dracula?

Suddenly another guy who looked like the ghost king body slammed Dracula from the air

“I WILL RULE THE WORLD AND ME ALONE!” as he stood up Superman noticed he looked just like the ghost king only older and more evil looking. As if the mention of look-a-likes summoned her, a small girl who also looked just like the ghost king only younger and female body slammed evil twin number 1.

“Not on my watch you fruitloop!” she yelled. Suddenly a woman in a track suit with ridiculous looking googles and carrying an oversized gun jumped down

“Get away you evil ghosts!” she yelled and fired some energy weapon at the small group, they all scattered and the four of them fought when some girl on a hover board swooped in and pointed her hand at the ghost king

“Danny Phantom! You and all of ghost kind will pay!!” she yelled, something on her wrist started glowing when

“GET AWAY FROM DANNY!” a school girl yelled. Her orange hair swung around as she discus threw her books and bag right into the girls face. They also ran off into the distance to fight.

“What?” Flash asked,

“When he said.” Green Lantern agreed.

“The Dracula looking one is Vlad, he’s a bad guy, so is my evil self from an alternate timeline, we call him Dan, Dani is the small girl who looks like me, that’s because she’s my clone, she’s on the good side but she might steal your stuff just because she can so be careful,” he took a wheezy breath “My sister Jazz is the one who hurled her books into the air to protect me, she’s good. The girl in the red suit is Red Huntress, she’s good she just doesn’t understand -same with my parents, the couple in the jumpsuits, their ghost hunters.” the ghost king explained

“Wait, your parents are ghost hunters?” Flash asked

“Yeah?” the ghost king asked- oh I see.

“But you’re a ghost?” Flash said

“I’m technically a halfa actually, but trust me I know. It’s all ‘we’re going to tear apart the ghost boy molecule by molecule’ and never ‘is the ghost boy good or bad’.” the ghost king groaned, I reached out to help “I’ll be fine go fight or help!” he said

[sidthedollface2]

Something Old and Something New

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Rhys sister)

Summary: Rhys tells Azriel to back off Elain and find release at a pleasure hall. Instead, Azriel finds you, Rhys' younger sister. 

Or

The Princess of the Night Court becomes Azriels rebound. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, ANGST, hurt/no comfort, cheating? (not really tho you'll see), smut (p in v, oral, fingering) no use of yn, nicknames, drug use, alcohol.

A/n: I’m back from vacation and decided to do this one shot in between crown fit for a god. I really don't like using yn (its me not you) so every one of my fics will have a nickname but its still x reader. I’m sorry in advance if this hurts you. Anyway, enjoy. :)

“You will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” 

Azriel hadn't slept in weeks. The weight of his shame suddenly became too heavy for his illyrian shoulders. You weren't supposed to be this magnetic and he wasn't supposed to stick around this long. He told himself it was just going to be a quick fling, someone he could spend the night with and try to forget about her.

 But you had always been in his company. Ever since you became of age he thought you were stunning and entirely too good for him. You were afterall Rhysands younger sister. The female version with equal power and even more beautiful. Graceful when needed, mostly among people of importance, and always polite and kind like a princess should be. You were a Princess for the people, earning the citizens trust and walking among them like each and every person was your friend. It was no secret why they preferred your company to their High Lord.

Your amethyst eyes were now engrained behind his very own eyelids, everytime he closed his eyes for the night, they shot wide open. The image of you under him all those nights and the soft moans as he took you to bed in the shroud of darkness. He really didn’t know how it happened, mostly, he blamed it on the alcohol. One night after Ritas was all it took for him to be obsessed, seeking you out when his loneliness threatened to consume him.

Azriel’s panting mixes with your own moans as he pumps himself inside you. The delicious drag of his thick cock leaves you breathless under him. His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, his hazel eyes never leaving yours as he imagines forever in your arms. “You're so beautiful. Can’t believe I get to have you.” He coo’s as he trails soft kisses down your neck, nipping and biting your flesh, careful to not leave any marks. Your hands card through his dark waves, back arching off the bed when his lips attach to your pebbled nipple.

Kissing and biting at the fullness of your breasts, soothing away the love bruising he left on them previously. His scarred hands feel like silk when they roam the soft curves of your body, lighting a fire within you with each and every touch. Knees dig into the bed as he grips your hips, still completely sheathed inside you. He moves your body against his, matching the velocity of his thrusts. Deeper and deeper. One arm wraps around your waist while the other rubs tiny circles on your clit. His eyes never leave your beautiful face as his favorite part comes to life right before him. Your head is thrown back, mouth agape as pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach. “Oh fuck Az, don’t stop.” Azriel’s eyes sparkle with wonder as you fall apart beneath him. Toes curling as the force of your orgasm takes over all your senses. Azriel follows soon after. His pace stutters as your name falls from his lips with a groan. Spilling his seed into you with slow thrusts, ensuring each drop doesn't go to waste.

 “You were so good for me baby,” he smiles as he peppers your face with kisses. Azriel pulls out with a hiss and you giggle into the covers when his toned ass walks to the bathroom. You pout adorably when he returns wearing a pair of low hanging pants, and a warm cloth in his hands. “None of that love. I’m all yours and very willing to give you seconds and thirds,” he waggles his eyebrows and nestles between your legs. No shame or embarrassment from neither of you as he gently cleans you up. In between his gentle wipes he places a loud kiss to your core, “so fucken pretty.”

“Pink or Red?” He asks, looking through your assortment of panties, imagining how you'd look wearing the lacey ones. “Black.” Is all you reply and Azriels grin widens when you pick the lacey ones. 

He insists on helping you get dressed, pinching your butt and digging his fingers in your sides, making you giggle. You swat his greedy hands away. knowing it's just an excuse to keep touching you. “I’m not going to let you help me next time, all you do is tickle me,” you joke, knowing very well you couldn’t keep him away if you tried. “Fine. I won’t tickle you next time,” he says, crossing his arms with a sly grin on his handsome face. 

“You said that last time, and the time before that too.”

“Then you should know what to expect. Now come to bed, and snack with me.” Azriel moves to lay on the bed and opens the covers. Patting the space next to him with the palm of his hand, beckoning you next to him. You don’t have to be told twice, because this was without a doubt your favorite part. Like clockwork Azriel requested all your favorite snacks and without hesitation the house delivered.

Like a true Royal he fed you ripe grapes from the vine, watching intently as you parted your mouth for the sweet berry. Azriel licked his lips when your mouth wrapped around the fruit, making you chuckle as you pulled it off the stem. “When you said snacks this is not what I had in mind. I was thinking more like dessert.” 

“You just had dessert baby,” he teased with a shit eating grin as he gestured to his cock. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped from the back of your throat, causing you both to burst into fits of laughter, giggling like children. Who knew the shadowsinger belly laughed so openly. Something he only did with you. Once your laughs died down Azriel indulged you with a sweet treat. Again offering to spoon feed you, taking every chance to lick frosting off your glossy lips or fingers. 

By the end of the night you couldn't believe how sore your cheeks were from laughing so hard. Azriel had this charm about him, and you couldn’t get enough. You draped your arm over his toned stomach. Head nestled against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his strong heart, a melody you loved to fall asleep to. He held you close to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair, “Goodnight baby,” he whispered. 

“Night Az, I love you.” 

Silence. 

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. Neither did you. You didn’t expect him to say the words back, because he’d shown you he loved you in his actions alone. But his coldness afterward was unexpected. He laid still under you. No longer stroking your hair, or rubbing small circles on your back. It was like all the air had left his body yet the rhythm of his heart increased, hammering against his chest with the ferocity of a freight train.  If he felt your saddened tears fall on his chest he didn’t mention it, too caught up in his thoughts to console you. 

But now all his thoughts were of you and how quick your love had turned bitter when he didn't respond after you had said those three words to him. 

He was an idiot. Because he did love you. At the very sight of you his heart beat wildly in his chest. He wanted to spend every waking moment holding your hand and kissing your perfect lips. Fall asleep with you in his arms only to be awoken by your feminine beauty.  But Rhysand was unaware that you two were in a relationship. Were you in a relationship? He never asked. Wanted to. But he didn’t. He couldn’t imagine a day where Rhys would accept him as your lover. Rhys had been furious that he wanted to sleep with Elain, threatening him to no end. He couldn't imagine the anger if he were to find out that he turned his efforts to you instead. There were only a few things Azriel was scared of. Rhysands fury if he were to ever find out he’s been sleeping with his sister. And losing you. Those sort of went hand and hand didn’t they. 

You woke up alone the following morning. Thinking that your confession was too much for the shadowsinger. And perhaps you were just one of his many conquests added to the long list of females that warmed his bed. For as long as you knew Azriel he only had casual flings, nothing of substance. No one he introduced to his family. It made you feel stupid. He made you feel stupid. Hoping that you were the one he could call home. Someone he could envision spending the rest of his life with. You could forgive him for not saying ‘I love you’ back. That didn’t stop you from loving him and that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you. Because surely he did right? 

Right?

It wasn’t just that though, you had overheard Azriel tell Cassian sleeping with you was a mistake and that choosing you to be his rebound hadn’t worked out for him. “She said she loved me. It’s just all wrong. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go between us-” You didn’t bother hearing the rest of the conversation. Azriel’s words left your heart gaping, a wound so large you were afraid no one could mend it.

You had missed the importance of his following words, how Azriel wished he had done things right with you. Courted you the right way, with flowers and lovely dates to the finest eateries. Taking things slow at first, holding hands and sweet kisses under the moonlight. You didn’t hear Azriel explain that you had become more than he ever expected, more than just a rebound. He wanted a life with you. Now and forever, just you two and the family he always wanted.

You’d both move into a beautiful house just along the Sidra where you’d spend hours decorating every room to your liking. He’d soon marry you in front of all his family and friends, wearing the finest gown that glittered brighter than the night sky. During the mating frenzy, because of course you were his mate, he’d be sure to fuck a baby into you. And if his seed didn’t stick he wouldn't stop until your scent shifted to one of a pregnant female. He just hoped that Rhysand would give his blessing. 

Now everytime Azriel tried to seek you out, you were nowhere to be found. Like you had just vanished from the Night Court, even though the other members had interactions with you. You suddenly had no time for Azriel. The citizens of Velaris saw you less and less and when they did, your time spent was cut in half. Your joyous laughter no longer echoed the halls of the House of Wind, instead Cassian and Nesta’s not so secret sex romps were becoming more frequent. You had changed your entire schedule to avoid crossing paths with the shadowsinger. 

You no longer spent your mornings having breakfast with Rhysand and Feyre, instead you woke up earlier than usual and held your morning breakfast in the library. 

 “Why are you having breakfast here and not with Rhys?” Azriels hazel eyes took you in as he neared, noticing your tense shoulders. Closing the book in your hand, now finished with your chapter, you stand and gather your items into your bag, “was just catching up on some reading.” You don’t meet his gaze, the sight of him too painful for your heart to bear. “You haven’t been training with Cassian either,” he continues. “Or shopping with Mor. You haven't exchanged books with Nesta and,” Azriel towers over you, his breath fanning over your cheek at his closeness, “you haven’t warmed my bed.” Your eyes finally meet his, a look of desire in his warm eyes as his hands come up to cup your face. A glance over his shoulder has you pulling away from his touch as Elain enters the library, her soft voice dancing along the walls, “Hi Az.”

He ignores her completely, doesn’t even spare her a glance. But your eyes travel from her to him and back again. You see the fondness she has for him in the flush of her cheeks and the way her voice sings as she calls his name.

Memories of their subtle interactions come crashing into your mind. Her shy gaze whenever he walked in the room. The slight brush of fingers when they crossed paths, his lingering gaze when she exited a room.

He’s not yours, and you're not his. Never was, never will be. It dawns on you then that all the soft touches and lingering glances were never sincere but simply a ploy to get Elain jealous. Everytime you made love to him you gave a part of yourself, hoping he would accept you with open arms and an open heart.

You had hoped you were the only one in his life that made him throw his head back, eyes closed shut in ecstasy. But it's clear now when he closed his eyes he saw Elain riding him instead, not you. She was who he really wanted and you were just a placeholder. The rebound. 

He knows you well enough to tell when you're about to fall apart and now is one of those instances. It clicks for him now why he hasn’t seen you. Azriel catches your arm before you dart away, his touch gentle yet firm “you're avoiding me.” He says, worry etched all over his face as he attempts to pull you into his chest. “I’ve figured it out so you can stop pretending to care about me now.” A tear escapes your waterline and Azriel reaches to thumb away the hurt that he's caused.

You don't give him the chance as you swat his hand away and turn to make your exit. He’s panicking now watching you practically run away from him, as you hurry to get away from his presence.

A wound so intense suddenly opens within his heart. With no other option but to just blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind to keep you close. “I adore you!” he says breathlessly and waits for you to run into his arms so he could kiss you silly. When you turn around to confront him, Elain comes up from behind him and wraps her arms around his middle in a tight squeeze. A picture perfect couple you think to yourself, her innocent personality and bubbly nature a lovely contrast to his tall, dark and handsome. Azriel can’t pry her arms off him in time to chase after you before you rush out of the library, traces of your scent still lingering in the air. 

You run and run you're not sure for how long, just long enough till your tears are dried tracks along your soft cheeks. You find yourself in the arms of your brother, clutching his shirt in your closed fist as you loosen the cries that held your throat hostage. “Hey hey, what's wrong?” he coo’s pulling away just enough to see the heartbreak etched in your pretty face. “Send me away please Rhys, I am begging. I never ask anything of you, it doesn’t have to be forever, just a few months.” Your shoulders are shaking violently as you continue to wail into his chest, the intensity of your cries cracking the high lord into submission. “Are you sure, love? I can fix-” 

“No! There's nothing you can do.” 

Rhys nods, winnowing you to a secret cabin that sits along the border of The Night Court. “Just tell me this. Are you in any danger?” he asks, “because I know Azriel and Cassian or even myself will-” 

You wince at the mention of Azriels name, “I’m not in any danger, brother.” You assure him as you settle on the couch in front of the hearth, pulling a warm throw over your body and curling in on yourself. “Good, that’s good. I’ll talk to Kallias. He has someone he wants you to meet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hosting you for as long as you need.” Rhysand takes one last look at you, studying how unhappy you look, hoping you can confide in him your troubles, whatever they may be. You lay bundled under the comfort of the blanket, your glossy eyes staring into the flames of the fireplace. It’s heat providing a comfort you wish was someone else's. 

Azriel enters your room frantically searching for you, but he gasps and stumbles back when he sees Cerridwen packing your belongings. “Where is she?” he asks, his voice tense and panicked as he grips her by the shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information.” 

“Why are you packing her stuff then?” He starts shaking her shoulders, as if it would quicken her answer. “She’ll be visiting the Winter Court and Rhysand requests her favorite items to be sent to her.” 

You were running away from him, when all he wanted was to run toward you. Azriels world shattered completely. If you weren't here to live beside him then he had no interest in living. He had been too complacent in being in the now and not once had he initiated to be something serious. Now he was left with longing. 

That same night Rhysand made accommodations for you to stay in the Winter Courts Palace. Kallias and Vivienne were more than happy to have you stay with them. They were quite eager to introduce you to their son Kit. Hoping that with time you’d become great friends. Kit was the spitting image of his father. His white hair styled to perfection, with not a single strand misplaced. Chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw, pouty lips with Icy blue eyes to match his cool demeanor. His eyes trailed your beautiful curves as he bowed, taking your hand within his, placing a tender kiss to your delicate knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Princess.” 

Your violet eyes met his and for a moment his pretty face made you forget about your heartbreak. Kit extended his elbow to you and without a second doubt you linked your arm with his as he led you to see the beauty of his Court. 

You spent the next two weeks in the company of the future Heir. Kit remained a respectful host. Introducing you to his closest friends, a welcomed change of personalities compared to your friends from home. Each evening he’d join you for dinner. Offering a different restaurant each night in hopes to expand your palate in order to get a feel for your favorite foods.

During your brief stay you opened up to him and told him of the situationship you had with Azriel. You explained to him what you overheard Azriel say and how stupid he made you feel after you confessed your love for him. “I finally saw the way he looked at her and it broke me more than it should have, because I remember when he looked at me the same way.  I heard him tell Cass that I was just the girl he picked to get over her. I never meant anything to him. Yet this whole time it had been real for me and I foolishly fell in love with him.” 

“Oh sweetheart, you deserve to be someone's first and only choice. You’re a Princess of The Night Court, if anyones the stupid one It’s him for not seeing how incredible you are.” With the end of his sweater sleeve, Kit wipes away a stray tear that escaped your waterline. His gentleness is a stark contrast to the ice flowing within his veins. “Besides I hear there's a handsome Prince looking for a warm heart to thaw the coldness in his soul,” he smirks playfully, rocking on the heels on his feet, a look of innocence in his crystal eyes. Your sweet giggle transcends into his favorite song and he makes it a mission to hear it often. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel was tearing himself apart from the inside out. By the third day of being plastered and starting fights with innocent bystanders; Rhys had pulled him off missions until he sobered up enough to function.  All that did was give him a larger drinking window. He visited every winery and brewery in Verlaris, sometimes even forgetting how he got there in the first place.  Drowning in bottles of liquor till he could barely stand, let alone fly or walk or do anything for that matter. Tonight was different from the past two weeks, as he decided to smoke his problems away, alcohol no longer providing the high that made him forget.

 The strain for tonight was Mirthroot laced with Amnesia Haze, a hallucinogenic that could either make your deepest wish a reality or make you completely forget your life's problems.

Azriel couldn’t remember how he got up the steps to the house of wind. He couldn’t remember lots of things as of late. One thing he’d never forget though, was your scent and the way you made him feel. So when he opened the door to the house and your sensual perfume hit his nose he almost fell to his knees with relief.

You were finally home. He could explain himself and tell you that he loved you and that you meant the world to him. Azriel followed your scent like it was second nature. His shadows excitedly rushed up stairs towards your bed chambers, leaving him slightly confused because you were sitting at the kitchen Table.

Your hair was long in flowy waves down your back, a little longer since the last time he saw you. It hadn't been that long had it? It didn’t matter, all he wanted was to hold you in his arms again. Keep you safe in Velaris where you belong. Azriel slowly approached you, his breath shaky as he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Vi?”

Violet, the nickname you were given for your stunning eyes with various shades of purple and blue. Your eyes met his and you smiled, “Hi Az.” 

“Gods I missed you,” he admitted as he pulled you up from the chair, enveloping you in a warm embrace. You were slightly startled at how tight he hugged you. Inhaling your scent deeply as his nose nuzzled against your neck. “I’m so sorry, for everything. Please forgive me?” Azriel cupped your face between his scarred hands, angling you to look up at him. His pupils were large and dilated, a gaze mixed with sorrow and lust.  Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Az? What are you talking about?” 

“Come here, I need to tell you something.” Azriel lifted you onto the kitchen counter, earning a small yelp from your lips. He settled between your knees, making your thin night dress pool around your hips. His hands remained on your exposed thighs, rubbing them softly to keep you warm. His eyes never strayed from yours, like he couldn't believe you were actually here. “I made a mistake and should have never let you feel like you were the wrong choice. I don’t care what Rhys says anymore. I want you.”

His hands inch closer to your center, a silent request to touch you as the other brings your lips to his in a steamy kiss. You nod into the kiss, giving him permission to touch you. Azriel pulls your panties to the side, easily coating his fingers in your arousal, groaning when he feels how wet you already are from his kiss alone. 

Your breath catches when he slips his fingers inside and curls them in a come hither motion. “Oh gods Az, I’ve dreamed of this moment,” you pant into his mouth, needing more of him, anything he's willing to give you’ll take. He then rubs tiny circles on your clit, making you throw your head back so hard it slams against the cupboard in a loud thud. White flashes behind your eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, a giddy smile plastered on your face from the pleasure he's given you. 

You hop off the counter, eager to return the favor. Palming his cock, you notice he's barely hard, a groan escapes his mouth as you fumble with his belt. You pull Azriels pants down along with his underwear, pooling at his ankles, his cock still not fully erect. Your small hand grips him at the base, making him hiss. He sways side to side, eyes closed as he concentrates on getting hard, something he's never had to do before. You pump his shaft. Once. Twice. And then you wrap your lips around his cock and suck, the warmth of your mouth excites him and he stands at attention, finally. “So the rumors are true,” you coo.

“Fuck baby, your mouth feels so good. I Fucken love you.”   

Wait. What rumors?

“Azriel?” 

Azriels eyes fly open. You're standing in the doorway, shaking like a leaf in the wind with a  hand over your mouth. Sobbing loudly into your hand, tears blurring your vision as they escape your waterline. Heavy drops fall to the ground and the only sound heard is the unmistakable ‘pop’ as the female on her knees releases Azriels cock from her mouth.  

Azriel blinks rapidly, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the haze he's in. He looks down to the female, stuffing his cock back in his pants as she's scrambling to get up. 

“Elain?” he chokes out her name, tears welling in his eyes as he stares at her, devastation in his wide eyes  as he realizes what he's done. What he did to her thinking she was you. His eyes turn to meet yours again, but he only catches your dress billowing as you turn around and run. Your loud wailing echoing in his ears like a hammer to a church bell.

“Vi wait! Please. It’s not what you think!” He yells, rushing past Elain as he sprints after you, needing to reach you before you winnow away.  His heavy footsteps pound against the tile floors, waking up the rest of the inner circle. Just as you're about to reach the knob Azriels arms wrap around your middle, pulling your back to his chest. You both crash to the ground from the force of Azriels tackle. His back meets the hard floor in a loud slam, cushioning your fall. “Let me go!” You plead, kicking and  clawing at his arms that are tightly wrapped around you. “Sshh, baby please. Listen to me.” his voice cracks as he tries to calm you down, “I love you, I love you so much. I thought she was you!! Please believe me!” 

Your voice slices through him, like a dagger to his already bleeding heart. “I hate you!” You scream out in anger, venom lacing every word as it hits its mark. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” 

Darkness envelops the entire room, It’s cold mist threatening to devour anyone who so dares to defy its power. “Azriel, release my sister before I sever those hands off your body.” Rhys stands at the bottom of the stairs, his power bouncing off him like flames of a fire. The rest of the inner circle gathered around him, watching in horror as both males stood off in a staring contest. It’s Azriel who wavers; finally releasing you to shuffle away from him. 

Azriel sits on his heels, a subtle submissive pose showing respect to his High Lord. “Rhys, I’m sorry. I’ve been in love with your sister for some time now. Too cowardice to tell you or her,” Azriels gaze falls on you. “I’ve been a mess since you left. Masking my pain with alcohol and drugs, which is no excuse. But tonight I took a hallucinogen, and,” his chin wobbles as he tries to hold back his tears, “I made the biggest mistake of my life. I know I’ve lost you, and you will never forgive me. However, I need you to know, in front of everyone, that I have always loved you. I will always love you.” 

Azriel lowers his head. The flood of emotions finally pulled him under the surface, drowning him in his own misery. Fat heavy tears break from his eyes; landing in scattered drops along the floor beneath him. This pain is all consuming, torturous in its own vile way. Tearing at his heart shred by shred, a disastrous mess all by his own hands. A lonely scarred heart to match his scarred hands. Hands that once held the most precious gem, a rare Violet beauty; now only hold the memory of a lost love. 

When Azriel lifts his head to see your face for the last time, he’s once again too late. Fear latches onto his ankles like a heavy chain, anchoring him to the bottom of the sea. You’re gone. His darkness driving away your bright light, leading you into the arms of someone new.  

Part 2 (Something Borrowed)

[five-flavor-soup]

i think it’s very funny that we realise zuko is Handsome(™️) the moment his hair starts growing out again at the same time that other characters notice this, and zuko literally gives zero fucks. song was like man this boy’s got a scar i can emotionally connect with AND he’s cute, jet has an instant obsession because that lee guy is playing hard to get, jin frequents the teashop just to stare at the pretty refugee and snags an awkward adorable date with him to stare some more. and zuko just. does Not notice. or care.

he’s so obsessed with going home that romance or attraction simply isn’t even an option in his mind. he is leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him. he is a serial dater in that way that the dating is basically one-sided and he is entirely unaware there was any dating happening in the first place, because he’s too busy to even look at someone twice. jet stalks him bc of this. katara briefly seems to treat zuko picking azula’s side as a betrayal in the sense of Cheating On Her. this is all one-sided.

zuko is entirely unable to compute this Whirlwind Romance thing. he has no idea what these ppl are talking about. he has things to do. love is In The Way and he is slashing through it with his dual swords like sokka sliced through the vines in the swamp. in s3 we suddenly have ma|ko without any lead-up, and it ends the moment zuko has a New Goal to work towards. he breaks up with his gf through a letter. he forgets about her the moment she’s out of sight. the fact that she’s in prison completely slips his mind until he’s literally about to be crowned fire lord, and that’s only because she decides to step back into his life.

there’s no time for romance when zuko has decided to have a Purpose to work on. is he attractive? zuko wouldn’t know and he doesn’t care. zuko has a job to do and whether it’s catching the avatar or teaching the avatar firebending or breaking ppl out of prison or helping the angry watertribe girl who always entertains the idea of freezing him to a tree get closure for her mother’s murder, it’s all still a job. no time for kissing or blushing or dates when you’ve got a fatherlord to dethrone and a world to save. none of his dreamy hairflips and handsome brooding are intentionally attractive but it’s perceived as such anyway and that is HILARIOUS to me

[theautisticwriter]

Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli

Show- Helluva Boss

Genre- romantic, yandere

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention

Word count- 1.5K

Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!

key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname

———————————————————

By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do

Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??

the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.

i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)

^glue

it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.

ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D

from the only bitch worth ur time,

blitzø

<3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)

———————————————————

Hiya sweet cheeks!!!

It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!

How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.

Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?

Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!

Until next time sweetheart,

Your Mills! ♡

———————————————————

Hi y/n,

It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.

As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.

We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.

I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.

All my love,

Your Moxxie <3

———————————————————

Uh, hi?

Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck

Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?

Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.

Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.

I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?

See you,

Love from,

Regards?

Bye y/n,

Loona.

———————————————————

My dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.

Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?

I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.

We truly are written in the stars!

Yours until the end of the sky and then some,

Stolas.

———————————————————

Hey there baby,

It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.

I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.

It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.

Sincerely yours,

Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo

———————————————————

Heya cutie!

Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?

Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!

And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.

I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P

Love from,

Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!

———————————————————

[nova-amor]

“you cryin’?” gojo satoru teases from above, his sapphire eyes darkening into inky, midnight blue pools. his hunger is evident in his body language— his pink lips twisting into a sadistic grin, cheeks flushed a rosy tint of red, his eyes taking note of every one of your twitches and squirms against him. his cool hands are latched to the back of your head, forcing you to remain pressed to him, short strands of snowy white pubes itching at your skin.

“relax that throat, pretty girl,” satoru reminds you, his heavy cock resting on the flat of your tongue. you could feel it twitch and throb at the back of your throat, staining every surface with his sweet pre-cum. “this is what ya wanted, right? f’r me t’ train ya? t’ make sure this tight little throat can handle all of me?”

his pale cock nudges at your gag reflex, wet walls spasming and gagging around his girth with each gentle thrust into you. satoru cherishes the sight of you all messy and fucked out because of him, wide-eyed and on your knees for only him. there’s trails of drool and tears going down your chin and dripping onto your tits, your eyes peering up at him with such desperation that it makes him struggle to conceal his amusement.

satoru’s thrusts slowly speed up— his hips bucking into your face, dousing the scorching fire coursing through his loins with gasoline. he’s fucking your face now, heavy balls slapping against your sticky chin with each thrust. your hands are curled into fists in your lap, your thumbs pressing hard into your palms. satoru ponders for just a moment if that little trick really does help, not that it matters anyway. you had begged him to fuck your throat in the first place, so it was more your problem to worry about than his.

he buries himself deeper and deeper into you, carving every curve and vein into the walls of your throat. the sensation of your moans reverberating around his cock sending him over the edge, his eyes rolling far back into his skull and his toes curling inwards. his hands cement your place against him, your nose pressed harshly to his stomach as his cock wiggles in your mouth, dumping large spurt after spurt of his thick seed down your throat. he keeps you there for as long as he wants, making sure you swallow every drop around him, your gag reflex stroking his dick just right.

satoru doesn’t even care if you can’t breathe, your body flailing around him in a feeble attempt to have him loosen his grip. he doesn’t pull away until you’ve swallowed every drop.

once he relents, your nostrils flare as sweet air finally seeps into your lungs, his hips slowly retracting from you. his dick hovers just mere inches away from your face, flushed cherry red and leaking thin remnants of his cum.

“you’re so pretty,” satoru mumbles, petting the crown of your head. and, it was true— you did look pretty, at least to him. with your hair jumbled, and your lips swollen and bruised, and your skin flushed with beads of sweat gluing stray hair strands to your temples. there was smears of spit and tears all over your chin and chest, a wet patch of arousal formed on the front of your panties.

“so,” the sadistic grin returns to his lips, a taunting glint in his eyes. you resist the urge to rub your thighs together, pussy clenching around empty space from the mere twist in satoru’s expression. “you g’na let me train that sweet ass next?”

[natalievoncatte]

Lena knew this was going to be a bad one. She was making dinner when she glanced up and saw that the Lakehawks game had been interrupted by a breaking news report. There was a fire on the south side hills, flames raking the side of the building as they reached hungrily for the sky, as if to consume the stars themselves.

Rushing to the balcony, she could see it, an angry red glow on the edge of the city. It was a bad place for a fire. It was out of control and the brush and vegetation nearby was dry; all of Southern California was under drought conditions and a fire watch. Everyone in the city would be glued to their televisions; a helicopter thumped overhead, sending a downblast over her as it thundered towards the fire.

Lena watched with her own eyes, briefly spotting the red and blue streak across the night sky. She couldn’t see the fire itself but she could imagine Kara slicing through the air at full speed, dousing or something the flames in some clever way. True to form, the glow died down quickly. Lena didn’t need to turn back to the tv to know the fire was was contained and would soon be out.

She waited patiently on the balcony, leaning over the railing and letting the crisp night air sweep through her hair. She looked up when she saw that familiar dash of red and blue slow and descend beside her, cape billowing out behind Kara as she landed.

Her face and hair and suit were streaked with soot and her eyes were downcast. Lena said nothing as she placed her hands on Kara’s big shoulders and led her inside. As soon as they were in, Lena closed the doors and pulled the curtains, then swiftly turned and undid the clasps that held Kara’s cape to her shoulders, sweeping it over the back of a chair. From the set of her back and the way her head hung, she knew at once that something as wrong.

She didn’t ask. Kara was never cruel to her, never snapped at her, but Lena had learned to read her and knew that she needed a little bit of silence to process after something happened.

A kind of ritual had been created between them. Lena parted the skintight suit to reveal the hidden zipper and pulled it down, exposing the honeyed skin of Kara’s broad back. She wore a crop top and boxers under the suit, and shimmied out of it, gathering it and the cape.

Kara turned to head towards the bedroom, and Lena caught her with a hand resting softly on her forearm.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” Kara whispered, as the tears began to fall.

Lena took the suit from her and the cape and laid them reverently across the chair.

“Don’t worry about me,” said Kara. “I’ll be fine.”

“You will be, but I’m going to worry all I want.”

Lena pressed into her and Kara wrapped her arms around her, nuzzling her nose into the crown of Lena’s head. Kryptonian super-senses. She was taking deep breaths of Lena’s pheromones and feeling the beat of her heart against her own chest. Kara smelled like sweat and burnt drywall, but Lena didn’t care.

“Eat your dinner. I’ll be okay.”

Lena let her go, but put away what she’d been making; the chicken could brine for up to a day anyway, and she wanted to share this meal for Kara. Lena wouldn’t admit that she enjoyed feeding Kara, whose body seemed so incapable of gaining any weight which was not muscle, but she knew she did. Not to mention the little thrill she got from introducing her to new tastes.

She had a protein shake instead, waiting for Kara to come out of the shower. Kara would wash her suit and cape herself, so Lena left it.

When she stepped into the bedroom, Kara had changed into a loose, threadbare t-shirt and was fluffing her hair with a towel. Eventually it would dry into flawless waves with loosely curled, salon perfect ends; apparently Kryptonians also had super styling amongst their repertoire of scientifically implausible abilities.

Kara flopped on her side on the bed, sighing.

Lena crawled aboard behind her and wrapped her arms around Kara, and Kara immediately sank back into her embrace with a soft sigh. The bed erased their height difference and Lena sheltered Kara with her body, tucking her head against her chest. After a while, she began slowly running her fingers through Kara’s damp hair, and her tuneless hum became a half-remembered lullaby her mother had sung as Kara let out a quiet sob and shuddered.

Sometimes, the biggest person needed to be small, and the strongest woman in the world needed someone to be stronger. Eventually, Kara told Lena what happened, yet another invisible scar she’d carry forever. Once again Lena bitterly thought that Kara didn’t deserve to live like this, bearing the guilt of two whole worlds on her shoulders.

But she did, so Lena would help her carry it.

[neowinestainedress]

hello!!!! I'm not sure if you're taking requests rn but I just wanna let this out of me or I'll go insane. I've been watching a lot of diggity haechan fancam and man really know how to hip thrust. It's just that haechan's thighs are so muscular...I-I—just wanna ride it😳😳

w!: unprotected s*x, thigh riding, light degradation, (kinda mean) dom!haechan, two *ss slap and one cl*t slap, rough s*x

a/n: someone: haechan’s thighs—  me: FINALLY SOME GOOD FUCKING FOOD. i’ve written about thigh riding with him already but will it ever be enough? no. ALSO diggity!haechan? supreme haechan, coming second to better than gold!haechan only. also, hard hours are open, and i’ll either write drabbles or blurbs depending on the inspiration (this was supposed to be a blurb and turned out longer than a drabble but yeah… yall know what happens when I write about haechan)

Imagine Haechan sitting on the couch, tired after a long day. He’s so tired he doesn’t even change into his house clothes, still wearing the white blouse and tight black pants, watching the tv because when he got home you were in the shower and he is waiting for you. 

You’re wearing his favourite nightwear when you sit next to him on the couch, kissing him and running your fingers in his hair to welcome him home, but by chance, there’s his favourite movie on tv, and he’s barely paying you attention. So in a second, you’re on top of his thigh, you’ve been thinking about this since he left earlier in the morning, drooling when he walked past you to bid you goodbye, wearing those black pants that wrap his beautiful thighs so perfectly. But now he looks even better, with his black hair crowning his face messily, the white blouse with the sleeves rolled up, showing the veins of his arm, and the first three buttons undone. Your hips start moving on their own, grinding on his thigh that flexes immediately as an innate reflex, you might do this so often that he’s not even fazed anymore. 

But this time he’s tired, even annoyed about some things that went wrong at work, and you distracting him, ignites a fire. 

“What are you doing?” Haechan groans, bouncing his leg, catching you by surprise before he calls your name sternly when you don’t reply right away. 

“What you should be doing instead,” you reply resolutely. “Didn’t even spare me a look.” 

“Oh, I did,” he coos, hand running on your nape to turn you toward him. “I know exactly what you want when you get all dolled up for me.” 

A victory smile curls your lips but it fades as soon as his attention goes back to the screen on the wall. “I fear you’ll have to work for it harder.” 

You groan annoyed, but don’t stop. You honestly don’t care much, the obsession with his thighs is crazy and unhealthy and you’d ride them forever, you’d rather feel his skin than the fabric of his pants, but this will do anyway. 

“Hyuck,” you breathe out when he starts bouncing his leg, it’s a small movement but it makes you shake every time your sensitive clit hits his leg. 

“I’m watching the movie,” he shuts you before a smug grin blooms on his face when you grunt in disappointment. That still doesn’t stop you from rolling your hips on him, and even bravely reaching down to unbuckle his pants. His eyes skim down briefly, but he lets you continue, even if he fakes nonchalance his dick is hard and begging to be freed from his tight clothes. 

“You really can’t fucking listen, uh?” He groans when you struggle pushing his pants down, harshly grabbing your chin and blocking your wrists together. 

“I just wanted to take your pants off, want to feel you,” you try to pout and pity him, it works for now but you know Haechan always has something up his sleeve, so you don’t know what awaits you after. He lets you go, getting rid of his pants only, and roughly lifting you up to put you right where you were before once he’s done. 

“Come on, get off only with that, show me how pathetic you are,” he mocks before pulling you into a messy, wet kiss, slapping your ass to silently tell you to move. Your body reacts naturally, grinding on his muscular thigh, now feeling his smooth skin and not the thick fabric of his clothes. Haechan lets out another groan when you move again, this time to push your clothes down your legs, but doesn’t say anything else, only pushes you down and guides your movements. His attention is still on the movie, but you hear his occasional shaky breaths when your thigh brushes against his throbbing cock, or when you moan louder, and you feel his hand tighten on your hip when you start whimpering his name. 

“Fuck,” you yelp when his hand hits your ass harder than last time. “What was that for?” 

“You’re slowing down,” he says, dark eyes meeting yours, and you know you’re fucked. “You started this, you will finish this. Come on, don’t stop.”

You gulp, nodding weakly before placing your hands on his shoulders. This time you’d be so close to reaching your orgasm, but right when you’re about to, the sound of the tv turns off and the lights flashing in the room stop lighting it up. You freeze on the spot when Haechan groans your name. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, seeing you turned it off by mistake with your knee. You try to act fast to grab the remote and turn it back on but the pleasure is still fogging your brain. 

“Drop it,” Haechan orders, voice low and eyes sternly looking at you. “You want my attention? You’ll have it all.” 

Your lips part but don’t let out a sound, and your eyes snap open when his hand wraps around your neck, rubbing your jaw before reaching your chin and squeezing it. “Ride my thigh and come. Don’t make me waste more time.” 

You don’t hesitate, humping him embarrassingly fast to chase the orgasm that slipped through your fingers. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, “you can’t possibly be so wet just from this,” he mocks when his free hand moves between your legs, not that he needs that to feel your cum dripping out of you, it has been sticking to his thigh since you started, he just wants to mess with you and tease your sensitive spot while watching his skin glisten with your arousal.

“It feels good,” you justify. “And your thighs — fuck, your thighs,” you mumble, head thrown back and lower lip trapped in your teeth when he slaps your clit once. “They’re pretty and thick and feel so good.” 

“Uh, really?” Haechan snickers, throwing his head back because he can’t believe you have no shame. “Maybe I’ll always make you come like this if you like it that much. My thighs only.” 

“Yeah,” you cry out, bouncing and grinding, struggling to keep a rhythm and just wishing to quickly come. “But I also — fuck — I also want you.” 

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head. “Thought my thighs were enough?” He teases, moving your head side by side in a mocking manner as he pouts close to your lips. “Need more?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you beg as one hand reaches for the back of his head and tangles in his hair. “I — I… oh, fuck,” you cry out when the orgasm washes over you before you can even say anything, hips and legs trembling as you move weakly to ride it before you collapse on him. 

You don’t have time to take your breath that you find yourself with your back on the couch seat, Haechan harshly flipping you over and trapping you underneath him. 

“Greedy, dumb baby, always playing with fire, not caring about what she gets herself into,” he mocks, pushing his sleeves up on his arm before placing you like he wants you with another rough tug. “Look at how wet you are, and all this just for my thighs?” 

You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue, as you stare into his eyes before they skim down, watching him get rid of his underwear. 

“You are a brat, and yet I always give you what you want. What am I gonna do with you?” He groans, shaking his hair out of his face as he leans down, rubbing the head of his cock on your wet pussy. 

“Fuck me?” You ask nicely, blinking your eyes innocently. 

Haechan groans. “Yeah, it’s the only way to teach a lesson, isn’t it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, his dick is into you before you can even formulate a thought in your brain, taking your breath away from the first thrust. 

“Fuck,” you curse, hands wrapping around his arms to hold onto something. His thrusts are hard, hitting you deep with every single stroke. 

Haechan grins when your nails dig into his arms, and your head lolls back, eyes rolled in the back of your head and mouth wide. “Is it too much for you, baby? You don’t like my thighs so much anymore when they help me fuck hard into you?” 

You’d glare at him if you’d have anything coherent running in your brain, but it’s filled with nothing but lust and need. “I can take it,” you still mumble. 

“Oh, I know you can, that’s why you’re my favourite girl,” he hums, grabbing your legs and pushing them as flat as he can — and you can bend — to your chest. Your back arches in response, feeling him even deeper with each precise, hard thrust. 

When his fingers make contact with your clit, your eyes snap open, throat closing for a moment as you feel like you’re slipping farther away from reality. 

“Messy girl,” he taunts. “So wet my fingers are slipping. You planned this all day, didn’t you?” He says, breath uneven as pleasure starts overwhelming him too, your pussy gripping him tight, making it harder to move out of you, your chest heaving while your boobs look so pretty in the lace of your nightwear, and your moans filling his ear. “Couldn’t wait for me to come home to fuck you on the couch after riding my thighs like a needy, desperate thing.” 

You nod swiftly, eyes closed as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. 

“Fuck, then come with me, babe,” he says, pushing you closer with a harsh tug on your hips as his hands wrap around your waist tightly, fucking into you with force. “Gonna fill you up, fuck, just like you like.” 

Your back arches more, while your hands reach for his shoulders to pull him in a heated kiss that seals your orgasms and traps the loud whimpers and moans that are coming out of your mouths. You feel weak and dizzy as he keeps thrusting into you at a quick pace, filling the room with the lewd sounds of his cum spilling out of you, and whispering dirty words to your ear. 

“Fuck babe, you’ll be the death of me,” Haechan huffs, kissing you and caressing your forehead to wipe away the sweat before pulling out of you and pulling you into his arms, trailing kisses on your neck and shoulder. 

You chuckle, turning around to face him, tangling your legs with his. “Was this better than the movie?”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “You know you’re better than the movie, I just like teasing you.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[wnderkoo]

boy's a liar

summary: you've been at odds with the crown prince ever since you were children, but feelings change and the light you see him in changes too. how long can you keep up this pretense of hatred? word count: 3.7k warnings: cherry!koo bc that deserves a warning, kind of some emotional constipation?, explicit smut– b**bie fondling, or*l f receiving, f-ngering, missionary, hitting it from the back, unprotected s*x (you better not), dw theres aftercare :)

what's the point of crying? it was never even love did you ever want me? was i ever good enough?

You hate how good he looks right now, simply leaning against the wall, an aloof smile on his pretty face as he holds court with his infuriating charm and ever bright personality. The dukes and duchesses eat up his every admission and hang onto every word of his sentences, making you roll your eyes as you watch them from across the room.

He holds a fluke of champagne in his hand, half full despite your knowing of his dislike of the liquor.

As if feeling your gaze on him, his eyes lift and wander curiously across the room before meeting yours. Expecting you to back down and look away, a look of pleasant surprise comes across his face when you hold his stare.

Your heart skips under his watchful gaze, his eyes caressing your skin from the tips of your fingers to your covered shoulders and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His eyes flick back up to yours, and you realise that not once throughout his assessment of you did he pause his conversation with his company. His mouth continues to move and the men and women crowded around him take no notice that his attention is elsewhere- on you.

A manicured hand slides up his chest, pretentious and outright trying to state its claim on him.

You'd seen her pin straight blonde hair before, at balls and other social events, but she never deserved more than a polite smile from you- she was just another social climber wrapped in faux elegance.

His face betrays no emotion, but his eyes hold yours from across the room as if gauging your reaction. He watches you lazily with an air of arrogance, and your hands buzz with the desire to slap him across his irritating face.

As if you could care less who he had on his arm.

You regard each other, waiting to see who will look away first.

It won't be you.

His mouth tugs up in a smile, as if sensing the fire burning within you, which burns infinitely hotter seeing his amused face.

Damn him.

"This looks like the most intense staring contest I've ever seen."

Dark eyes move away first, his attention fixing back on his company and you smile as you turn to the deep voice.

"Namjoon," you nod up at the tall duke.

His dimple peeks out as he smiles down at you, making a comment about how comfortable you look perched on the couch before joining you.

"So what's with you and the prince? I can feel the sexual tension rolling off of you."

Ever the playful instigator, you roll your eyes at his blatant need to gossip.

You've known Namjoon since you were both children, before you had to wear the burden of responsibility that came with your nobilities. When you could play around in the courtyard or sneak into the kitchen and steal from the cookie jar.

Growing up together, you knew you could always depend on him to run away with you from the over-the-top galas or the boring dinners.

While the socialites interacted amongst themselves, the two of you would be in the corner of the room judging anyone and everyone.

There was a small circle of people you considered acquaintances, and an even smaller circle of people you could call friends.

But you'd take a handful of genuine people over dozens of superficial friendships anyway.

"Nothing's up with us, you know how much I hate him."

Namjoon regards you with a skeptical look that you ignore, waving down one of the catering staff and plucking an hors d'oeuvres off the tray.

"I'm not buying it," he hums, taking one for himself.

"I see the way you've been looking at each other lately- it definitely doesn't look like hate."

You narrow your eyes at him, despite wondering yourself how much truth his words carry.

Perhaps it was because he knew you so well, knew of the mutual dislike you and the prince held for each other ever since you were children.

In all honesty, you're not sure where exactly your indifference came from but for as long as you can remember, the crown prince has always been the one you find yourself bantering with.

Although you don't carry any real enmity towards him, you found it easier to annoy each other with jabs and jests than to not.

He was the crown prince, and while you held a title of nobility yourself, he was always just one level above you, he always would be.

Perhaps it was the fact that he knew how important he was, or at least carried himself that way. He was expected to act a certain way, and while he did most of the time, he also liked to rebel in the smallest of ways, pushing boundaries until someone was bound to break.

But he was a royal, very few people could touch him, and he knew that. He knew he was untouchable.

He liked to play games, finding the most amusement in playing them with you. So casually cruel in the name of being honest, his favourite pastime was riling you up until you'd snap at him, enjoying your fire when it was directed at him.

As children, it was all fairly innocent- he'd pull on your braids and you'd steal his extra piece of panna cotta when he wasn't looking. As you got older, more avenues opened up for you to mess with each other.

Every courtier or suitor would be driven away by the prince's incessant meddling, spewing lies about how you grew horns and turned into a beast at night or that your farts smelled like mouldy bread. While no one actually believed him, you never heard back from them after the night.

It's almost comical how palace staff are warned when the two of you are under the same roof, made to be weary of the ultimate prank war that you've been in your whole lives.

Endless teasing and outright arrogance made his face ever so punchable.

While you ran in the same tight-knit circle and saw each other more often than not, you weren't as close as you were with the others.

Now that you were older, more responsibility weighed you down, and you were both expected to play your parts.

The ever obedient daughter, you played yours while Jungkook got to mess around and spew nonsense about his duties that everyone ate up because they weren't exactly listening, too busy fawning over his charming looks and playboy personality.

It didn't help that he was actually good looking.

Thinking back to Namjoon's words, you wonder how that could ever be true. If anything, after the events that had perspired a few weeks ago, he should only be able to see the absolute bitterness in your eyes when you see the crown prince.

"Trust me, Joon, we're definitely not in love."

The buzz of the ballroom was finally beginning to dwindle, dukes and marquesses alike starting to call it a night, bidding their goodbyes to the royal family before making their way out.

You'd spent most of the night with Namjoon, snickering as you watched people bend over backwards trying to force some semblance of elegance.

The corridors were empty now, save for the staff passing through packing up the event.

After using the washroom, you wander down the hallways, the lighting dim enough to confuse your tired and faintly tipsy brain.

Turning one of the corners, you stop short upon seeing a certain head of dark hair leaning against the opposite wall.

"Your highness," you bow, miscalculating the action and fumbling slightly before you right yourself, giggling quietly to yourself.

Was it your imagination or did the prince's arms flinch forward as if ready to catch you?

"So formal," the prince murmurs, standing upright and stalking forwards to where you were stood.

He offers his arm and for some reason you hesitate, wondering whether touching him was a particularly good idea. But then he gazes down at you with those soft eyes, no malice hidden behind them, and you find yourself taking his arm anyway.

"I'll escort you to your room."

"How noble of you."

"You know me, always saving pretty damsels and slaying dragons."

You snicker. He laughs.

The endless walk through the corridors is silent, neither of you having anything of real importance to say to each other.

The question of why the prince had been in the corridor in the first place lingers in your mind, but you've come to know better than to expect him to answer your questions.

When you reach the landing of the third floor, the prince's steps slow until you've reached just outside your door.

You open it without a word, strolling inside, ready to be done with the night and sleep all the way through to brunch.

The prince lingers in the doorway and you see him thinking over something in his head through the reflection of your vanity mirror.

"What is it Jungkook?"

The use of his name so casually has him turning his head up at you, a grin forming on his face.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

His eyes follow you as you toe off your shoes, throwing them rather carelessly to the foot of your dresser. Sitting down at your vanity, you grab a wipe, swiping at your eyes to remove your makeup as you contemplate your answer.

"You know how I feel about those social events," you say.

He did.

On the off chance you felt like getting along, the two of you would sneak away in the middle of galas or dinners, running off to the gardens under the cover of darkness and hiding where no one could find you.

Just for a few hours, you could leave behind all the ass kissing and artificiality and pretend that you weren't who you were.

You'd skip rocks across the pond, mock nobility, or listen to Jungkook and his endless knowledge about constellations and argue over where they were in the sky.

Stolen moments like those- you'd never tell him- but you saved them for the bad days.

Movement in the mirror has your eyes meeting his in the reflection, watching as he approaches from behind.

He reaches a tentative hand up to unclasp the necklace you had been fumbling with, his warm touch leaving tingles when his fingers brush against the skin of your neck.

"Thanks."

Was your voice always this breathy?

"What about yourself? That pretty blonde make it worth your while?"

You hate the unfamiliar feeling the thought of him spending time with another girl brings, but you'd sooner take it to the grave than acknowledge it.

"She can't seem to take the hint that I'm not interested," he shrugs, silently removing the pins from your hair.

"But you're always interested," you tease.

As the crown prince, he obviously couldn't sleep around. But the rules never said anything about casual flings where he could woo girls with his flirty words and kick them to the curb when he was bored.

Growing up, people rarely saw him for more than being their next ruler. Girls saw him as something they could conquer, dig their claws into and hang on his arm and pray they became relevant.

Sure he was arrogant and cocky, but people seemed to forget he was a human being.

While you wouldn't hesitate to push him in the pool or leave him locked out in the snow, a part of you felt for him. He had never found a meaningful connection with anyone, and even if he kept up the pre-tense of the heartbreaker prince there was a secret romantic hidden in his playboy persona.

"Feelings change."

Oddly cryptic and vague.

"Did you want something, Jungkook? I'm rather tired."

Coming to a stand, you reach behind your back for the strings of your dress. You had a lady in waiting who would have been helping you, but you'd all but threatened Marie to retire early for the night, knowing how hard she worked to making you look presentable earlier.

Jungkook's hands beat you to it, tugging lightly on the ribbon to free you.

"Just wanted to see you."

Again, oddly cryptic and vague.

As he unlaces your corset, you can't help the heavy breath that escapes you once your lungs aren't being constantly squeezed by the garment.

Your eyes clash in the mirror, not a word leaving either of you as the straps of your dress are pushed down your shoulders, the fabric pooling by your waist.

You're quite aware that your front is bared, your nipples hardening in the cool air. Your breath becomes laboured as you anticipate his next move. Though, his eyes never stray from yours, holding your gaze as the tension in the room builds.

"Jungkook-"

The word comes out in a breathy whimper before he tilts your head and crashes his mouth to yours. You feel the groan in his throat as he claims your mouth with his, your tongues clashing for dominance.

A large palm comes up and cups your breast, squeezing the flesh and drawing a moan from you. He twists a hardened bud between his thumb and finger before giving the same attention to the other.

In a blur, the rest of your dress is on the ground and Jungkook has you pinned on the bed as his mouth explores your neck.

He nips and kisses at your skin- sometimes you wonder if he leaves marks because he knows you'll have to cover them up.

"Should've known you only came here for this," you grit out just as he reaches your breasts. Taking a breast into his mouth, his wet and warm tongue circles around your hardened bud before sucking hard.

He comes away with a lewd pop, and the image of him with saliva glistening on his mouth makes you just that much more aroused.

"Didn't seem to be a problem last week when you were coming around my cock," he shoots back, moving down your body until he's kneeling between your spread thighs.

Despite his image of poise and virtue, his mouth could be equally as filthy.

"Tell me to stop and it stops."

You don't.

He smiles.

Leaning down, he places open mouth kisses against the inside of your thighs, always inching closer and never reaching exactly where you want him.

You slide your hands into his hair, palming the soft cherry coloured strands- another one of his acts of rebellion.

You open your mouth to protest, the words stolen out of your mouth by Jungkook finally dragging his tongue up your centre, the groan he lets out vibrating against you and making you shudder.

He eats you like a man starved, neither of you caring how sloppy it is, not when it feels so good and you taste so sweet. Hiking your thighs up over his shoulders, Jungkook devours you, showing no mercy as he slides two fingers into you with ease.

They stretch you out deliciously, and when he curls them just right he hits that spot that has you seeing stars.

The feeling of him pumping into you along with the way he abuses your swollen nub with his mouth brings you to an orgasm embarrassingly quick.

Waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes squeezing closed as Jungkook helps you ride out your orgasm.

The crown prince emerges from between your legs, wide grin on his mouth as your arousal coats his chin and all around his lips.

"You good?" he asks, kissing the inside of your knee before sitting up.

"Mhm."

He leans forward, capturing your mouth in his once more. You sit up, unbuttoning his dress shirt impatiently while he chuckles into the kiss at your eagerness.

The shirt falls away, revealing smooth skin upon smooth skin. The prince can't help but smirk against your lips at how you all but spill drool onto his stomach. His toned, chiseled stomach.

You push a hand against his chest and throw a leg around his waist to turn the prince until he's laying against your pillows and you're above him straddling his hips.

The sudden confidence has his face lighting up in surprise, a complaint nowhere to be found as he places his palms on your waist, his touch searing against your skin.

But oh so gentle.

With hooded eyes, the crown prince watches the way your head tips back and your lips part in a soft sigh when you roll your hips against him, definitely feeling the growing bulge beneath you.

He takes the opportunity to lean forward and take a breast in his mouth, his other hand snaking up to the back of your neck and holding you to him.

You don't know exactly how you found yourselves in this unlikely predicament. The first time it'd happened was the prince's birthday. You'd gotten so angry at him for crashing yet another date with one of your suitors earlier in the week, and his only response was to kiss you right then and there.

One thing led to another until you were both laying spent against the bed, chests heaving as you came to terms with what exactly had just happened.

You spent the week avoiding each other as much as you could, until you found yourself in bed with the prince again.

And so begun the sneaking around and the late night shenanigans. Though, where anyone else was concerned, you still couldn't stand each other.

You both knew it shouldn't have gone on for this long, but somehow you couldn't find it in yourselves to care.

Finding yourself on your back again, you look up at the crown prince as he kneels between your spread thighs. His pants are off now, lying somewhere forgotten with the rest of your clothes.

He stares down at you with hooded eyes mirroring that of your own before reaching into his boxers and pulling out his thick, hard length.

The sight of it alone has you whining, wanting it in you. You bite your lip when Jungkook when he rubs the swollen head against your folds, spreading his pre-cum and your own arousal around.

"We still good, pretty?"

You all but scream yes, nodding desperately.

Jungkook finally gives you what you want, positioning himself at your entrance and slowly pushing in. A hand on you hip rubs soothingly as he moves in inch by glorious inch. He hisses about how tight you are, eyes squeezing shut.

Despite the number of times he's taken you, you can never quite get used to just how big he is. The stretch borders on pleasure and pain, leaving you breathless as Jungkook bottoms out.

He waits patiently for you to get used to him, hands holding your waist and squeezing gently.

When you give him the go-ahead Jungkook starts to move, drawing his hips back just to push in again. The breathy moans that leave your mouth only spur him on as he thrusts into you.

It feels so good, he feels so good. The way he moves in you, just the right amount of rough and carefulness, makes him one of the most enjoyable partners you've had in- well ever.

By the time you're nearing your second orgasm of the night, Jungkook is nowhere near done with you.

Flipping you onto your stomach, he draws your hips up until you're on your knees, ass in the air, before Jungkook enters you again.

In this position, his thrusts hit deeper, reaching places no one else has reached and making you almost lightheaded.

You crash headfirst into Nirvana, body twitching as pleasure floods your senses. Your legs threaten to give out but Jungkook holds you up, continuing his to move behind you.

The overstimulation is just bearable, and when he slaps your ass you have to stop yourself from screaming. 

"Fuck baby, I'm close-"

The whimper in his voice makes you move your ass back on him, meeting his thrusts and grinding against him.

His hips stutter before he stills completely, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural moan.

The two of you have always been safe when it comes to sex, despite never wearing condoms. You have measures in place to make sure you don't end up in the papers with the next royal scandal.

You whine when he pulls out, feeling empty without his presence. You collapse on the bed, sighing as you come down from the high.

You hear him walk to your bathroom and then you feel his warmth behind you again.

Despite all his cruelty, he cleans you up with a warm cloth, his movements gentle.

You thank him awkwardly, your words ending in a yawn that has him chuckling from somewhere in the room.

He flicks the light switch off, submerging the room in darkness before coming down to lay beside you in bed.

Turning your head, you peer up at him, the light from the moon hitting his face perfectly and making him look like your worst mistake personified.

You don't exchange a single word as you cuddle up to his chest, his arm snaking around you and holding you closer. You relish in his warmth, pressing your cheek against his bare skin, closing your eyes and listening to his breathing even out.

For some reason, he makes you feel safe.

In this afterglow, where all your swords and armour are left on the ground, and you only see each other as you are- you wish you could stay like this always.

You take in his presence, knowing that you'll wake up in the morning and he won't be beside you.

He never is.

But what's the point of crying? It was never even love.

You knew that.

unedited :) hope you liked it

[srjlvr]

SEVEN ROYALTIES

,, once upon a time there was a commoner and a prince ’’ — lee heeseung

lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , commoner and a royal , fluff , angst ! warnings: loads of curse words. (please let me know if i missed something else!) | NOT FULLY PROOFREAD!!

WORD-COUNT ; 7.5k+

NOTE. finally we’re starting! i’m hoping to be able to finish the series as soon as possible for you all to be satisfied with all the works! please leave here feedbacks!! i love learning from others and i want to see if the work i put here really paid off!! hopefully you’ll be able to enjoy reading it!! there are a few hints of jay’s story, hope you’ll be able to notice them ;)

“morning y/n! be nice today” your co-worker put on a smile once you entered the restaurant. you rolled your eyes and faked a laugh, “very funny”

you swear you’re a nice person, a very kind one too actually—until someone gets on your nerves.

you come off as rude sometimes which is very unlikely to other people, you just cant seem to control your temper.

working as a waitress sounds like the perfect job to anyone—except you, and yet you found yourself working there and serving people.

not a day goes by without you having a fight with customers, “you’re on thin ice” your boss always says. he’s never that serious, he needs more workers anyway so firing one would be a trouble.

“good morning, what can i get for you?” you put on a smile and started to take orders.

“hey! waitress!” you heard someone calling, “i have a name” you cursed under your breath and went up to them.

“the food’s cold, can you warm it up or something?” she looked at you disgusted. you sighed and put on a fake smile this time, “sure”

after a few minutes the food was ready and you gave it back to her, “finally, what took you so long? how much time does it take to heat up food?”

“i apologize” you clenched your fists, trying to be the mature one and not get angry this time.

“yeah you better be”

you went back before you could burst on her.

“waitress!” she called you again, you walked lazily over to her and sighed, “i have a name” you pointed at your nametag.

“yeah, whatever” she rolled her eyes, “the food is still cold”

“there’s no way” you looked at her in disbelief, “i got burnt because the plate was too hot to hold, it was very much heated”

“yeah, not for me, get it heated again” she held the plate out for you to take and you did. “oh, and bring me more water”

that’s it. that was your last straw.

you took the water can and poured it all over her, “what the hell is your problem!” she shout in disbelief.

you rolled your eyes, “oh i’m sorry, i thought you’d like to get extra cold so you’ll feel the heated food better” you smiled, “if you weren’t a total bitch and actually took the time to eat instead of talking with your friend, maybe the food wouldn’t be so cold”

“how dare you! where’s your manager” she shout.

“he has a day off today, so i’m letting myself to be a bitch towards bitches like you” you smirked.

“i’ll come back” she said and ran out, “you won’t be missed until then!” you shout for her to hear.

you went outside on your break time and listened to some music.

“did you hear? the first crown prince will pay a visit in town in a few days!” you heard two people gossiping around, you looked over and saw two girls sitting in one of the tables and eating.

“i heard he’s just looking around to see the town he’s going to take over, you know they’re taking each another town! he’ll be taking control of this one!”

hybe kingdom decided to divide their towns equally to their seven sons—each one is getting a town of his own to control and rule. you learnt all of that from all the gossips around your work place.

“i heard he has to marry someone before getting the crown!”

“i wonder if he found someone to marry to! i’ll gladly volunteer if he’s yet to find his soulmate”

you rolled your eyes, who’s that prince anyway?

you hate the royal families, they always put on an act and come to “visit the town”, not even minding those who need help, they just keep walking around until they reach the end of the town as soon as possible.

your town is not so big, but not so small either—you can walk the whole town in up to four hours, if you do it nice and slow. it takes you about an hour if you’re the royal family.

everyone knows everyone, and gossip about everyone as well. the society is low and so is the economy, lots of stealing cases are happening, cheating and taking advantage of other people is really common in the town. you know that, you’ve been there.

a lot of people used your kindness against you, manipulated you and made you think you always have to take care of others before yourself. when you realized how bad you were treated, you shielded yourself from everyone.

you’re now known as the short-tempered girl who people shouldn’t mess with.

a lot of people actually like you, they know they shouldn’t mess with you so they’re actually being generous and kind, and it’s mutual.

you love the people in your town, except those who always get on your nerves. you can say you’re quite popular amongst the citizens and you actually have no problem with that.

the visit of the first crown prince you say? bring it on.

you flopped on your bed and thought about tomorrow. tomorrow is your free day and you thought about some things to do, such as going to the market or just having a little picnic with yourself.

you got so excited for tomorrow since it’s been a while since you had your free day—until you heard knocks on your door.

“sorry for the late hour, i need you to do a morning shift tomorrow” your manager showed up, “what?” you replied angrily, “no, tomorrow is my free day”

“y/n” he sighed, “we’re short on workers, i’ll pay you extra”

“and you came all the way here just to tell me that?” you scoffed and he nodded, “fine”

you live very close to the end of the town, your house is small, but it’s enough for you to feel warm and comfortable. since the town is small, it doesn’t take you a lot of time to arrive to the restaurant which takes place in the center of the town, but it’s still pretty much a long walk.

at six in the morning you opened the restaurant together with your boss.

“i heard the prince is coming to visit on one of these days” he said.

“as if i care” you rolled your eyes, “even if you don’t,” your boss pointed at you, “be careful and keep your temper around him if he happens to come in here”

“he won’t”

“you can’t be so sure”

“i can, after millions of visits of them in town, i’ve learnt that they have the same walking routine” you groaned.

“he’s different from his family”

“yeah, sure he is”

the rest of your shift went well, you were already getting ready to drop off as it was already time for your shift to end.

until the person from yesterday came, “hey! i see you’re still here” she said annoyingly.

“yeah, sadly” you sighed.

“get your manager here” she ordered you, “as long as you’re not a customer i don’t need to serve you, you have a mouth and walking legs so how about you call him?”

“y/n! don’t talk like that!” your manager interrupted and put his hand over your shoulder, “whatever, can you tell her to go away? her face is making me itch”

“y/n!” he shout, “i’m sorry ma’am for her behavior, is there something i can help you with?” he then bowed in front of the person.

“yeah! fire her!” she shout. “excuse me?”

“you heard me! fire her! she poured water on me yesterday and she’s just a waitress, she can’t do that to customers!” she pointed at you.

“y/n is that true?” your manager turned to look at you, “she was being a bitch and had to be taught, i’m not making the rules” you shrugged.

“enough! it’s your tenth complain already! and it’s only the start of the week!” he shout.

you rolled your eyes in annoyance, “so?”

“i’m sorry y/n, you’re fired” he sighed.

“what?” you gasped.

“you’re fired” he repeated.

“you said you’re short on workers—you know what? fine” you threw your uniform and took your bag, storming out of the store in anger.

you angrily looked at the ground and kept walking your way back home, until you bumped into something and fell.

“watch where you’re going!” you yelled at the person who just bumped into you, “my apologies madam, perhaps i can offer you some sweet cookies as an apology?” he smiled.

you got up and looked at him in disbelief.

you laughed at the nickname and the cute offer, “people don’t offer here cookies just because they want to apologize, are you new in town?”

he then shook his head, “you keep your things to yourself if you don’t want people to keep asking you for favors”

you ran before the person could even reply, “didn’t she realize who is she talking to?”

when you arrived back home, you flopped on your bed and groaned. “his face looked familiar though” you said and then chuckled, “offering a cookie? am i a child?”

“i must admit that it was cute of him”

you then looked outside your window, your window is facing the hybe castle that stood far away from your house, but you could still see the outstanding building. living in a place like this must be so fun and relaxing.

meanwhile, inside the castle there was pure chaos, “where’s heeseung?” jay asked.

“he told me he was just going to take a walk in the garden” jake shrugged.

“he’s nowhere to be found around the castle” sunghoon sighed.

“find him! search everywhere around, right now!” the queen ordered and the guards nodded, getting their swords and storming out.

“mom, you need to relax, he’s probably in the garden just playing hide and seek or something” ni-ki giggled.

“ni-ki, it’s not the time now” she replied worriedly and ni-ki nodded, “sorry”

“i’m sure he’s okay, you know heeseung hyung, he can deal with everything” jungwon said.

“why was she talking to me like that?” heeseung, who you just bumped into, was left dumbfounded and lost, full with questions.

“probably because i’m not showing my official clothes” he nodded to himself, “but my face” he then touched his face, “she didn’t recognize me at all?”

“yeah, he’s probably just fine” sunoo agreed with jungwon.

after a few minutes of talking to himself heeseung stared at the house in front of him, it was the one you entered.

it was quite far, but enough for him to see you storming off and entering the house.

he was staring at it for too long to notice the guards entered the town, “did you see prince heeseung around the town?” he heard someone asking a citizen.

that’s when it suddenly hit him—he ran away and now they’re searching for him.

quick heeseung, think!

he then looked at your house, “it won’t hurt to try” he let his leg lead the way.

you were about to get out and get some fresh air, maybe even search for a new job.

you opened your door and jumped when you saw someone standing outside, “stalker! stay outside! wait here i’ll get the police!” you shout.

“no no no wait!” he said, “please help me out!”

“what” you lowered your voice.

“can i please enter? i’ll tell you everything” he sighed.

“why should i trust you?”

“uhhh…because i’m heeseung?”

“who?”

“did you hear? heeseung…the first crown prince”

“oh, a prince” you chuckled, “and i’m queen elizabeth”

“no i’m being serious!” he argued, “look” he removed the big sweater he was wearing, and you could see the formal suit only royals can wear.

“get in” you ordered him.

“you shouldn’t be the one the to order me out” he got inside your house and sat on your sofa.

“and i shouldn’t be the one to help you out either” you rolled your eyes.

“you’re talking to a royal, you know that righ—“

“yes, exactly, a royal” you sighed, “i couldn’t care less about you”

“i can put you into jail for speaking like that”

“then do it” you crossed your arms and raised your brow.

“can i get you anything to drink?” you asked after not receiving a reply from him.

“water would be just fine”

you gave him a glass of water and sat across him on the sofa, “i knew you were familiar to me when i saw you”

“which by the way, you didn’t apologize about that” he remarked, “about what?” you asked him.

“i mean, you were the one to bump into me but you got angry and acted off rude”

“just had a rough day today” you shrugged.

“why are you talking to me like that?” he asked.

“like what?” you poured him some more water into his glass once you noticed it was empty.

“like i’m like every other person you know in town”

“because you are, aren’t you?” you asked back, “you’re no different, the only thing that does make you different is the title ‘prince’, and i don’t like princes”

“yeah but—“ he got cut off with a few knocks on your door.

“wait a second!” you opened the door and was welcomed by two royal guards. “hello l/n y/n. we’ve been searching for prince heeseung, did you happen to see him?” they asked.

“no, not at all actually” you replied, “i stayed at my house all day alone”

“thank you” they bowed and you closed the door.

“what the fuck?” you asked. “what?” he replied innocently.

“didn’t think about telling me you basically ran away?” you looked at him angrily.

“i’m sorry about that” he sighed.

“go back now before it’s too late” you rolled your eyes and went back to your room. “close the door after you! i’m not one of your servants!” you added.

the poor boy sighed and carefully got out to go back to the castle.

“where have you been?” the queen was raging mad by the time he got inside the castle, “i got lost around, a nice citizen helped me out and i found my way back here” he found the perfect excuse.

“don’t do that again without informing anyone that you’re going out! we’ve been worried sick!” the king sighed, “i apologize father, mother” heeseung bowed and they let him go back to his room.

“i’m not one of your servants” he mimicked you and giggled, “she’s cute”

“bro!” jungwon entered his room, “where have you been? mom and dad went feral, you should’ve seen them” he laughed.

“i’ve been out in town” heeseung replied shortly.

“anything interesting happened?” he asked.

“i met someone”

“ohhh, someone someone?” jungwon teased.

“i think her name was l/n y/n, from what i’ve heard from the guards”

“you’re not sure what her name is?”

heeseung shrugged, “but i know where she lives”

“that’s just creepy”

“it wasn’t like that” heeseung sighed, “i ran away from the guards and asked for help from her”

“she was pretty rude mostly” he added.

“she knew who she was talking to?” heeseung nodded.

“cant you just put her into jail?” jay suddenly joined the conversation. “we don’t do those things anymore jay”

jay only shrugged, “just ignore her from now on then”

“she’s quite interesting though”

“don’t tell me—“ “i’ll probably meet her again”

“it’s hopeless at this point”

“shouldn’t you be focused on your future wife? your wedding is soon” heeseung asked jay.

jay rolled his eyes, he’s clearly had enough of these conversations, “i don’t care, i just want the throne”

“it’s a bad way of thinking, who knows? you might fall in love with her”

“don’t worry, that won’t happen”

“i’ll be going out to the town mother” heeseung bowed in front of the queen, “take two guards with you” she ordered and he nodded.

“get back early today!” she added and heeseung waved.

while walking around the town heeseung actually took his time to greet the citizens and ask them how’s their condition and if they need any help.

he even sat in one of the restaurants in the center of the town.

“this is ridiculous! first you fire me and then you’re not giving me my money? what kind of a cruel monster are you?” he heard someone shouting.

“y/n relax, the prince is here be quiet”

that’s it, it’s you again.

“i could care less about the prince! give me my money” she argued.

“you don’t deserve that money! i’ve lost tons of money because of you so now you won’t get any”

“i can go to the prince and make a complaint, he’s here anyway, isn’t he?”

your manager giggled and heeseung frowned, “you know your complaint won’t get to anyone right? you already know the royals don’t care about us!”

“enough!” heeseung couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up from his chair and walked up to you.

“i’m trying to eat here peacefully” he sighed.

“no one stopped you from doing that” you shrugged.

“you did” he pointed at you and you rolled your eyes.

“tell him to bring me back the money i deserve and i’ll leave”

“you deserve no money—your majesty, she’s been making a mess ever since she started working here, a lot of people left and i’ve lost a large amount of money—“

“bring her back her money” heeseung glared at your ex-manager.

“w-what?” “did i stutter? bring her back her money”

your ex-manager looked at you and you smirked, he then went to grab your money and you glanced at the prince.

“i could’ve done that myself” you scoffed.

“you,” he pointed at you again, “you’re coming with me”

right after you got the money he dragged you outside with his two guards behind.

“let me go!” you tried to let go of his hand that was holding yours tightly.

when you realized it was no use, you stared at your hands together and blushed. “no y/n this can’t be happening” you whispered to yourself.

he stopped dragging you when you arrived in front of your house.

“what the hell is your problem?” you shout.

he sighed and put his hands on your shoulders, kneeling a bit, “you’re my problem”

“we barely even know each other, you’re a prince and you shouldn’t be bothered by a commoner” you rolled your eyes

“right, i’m a prince” he nodded, “so why don’t you treat me like one?”

“treat you like what? do you want me to bow and clean your shoes everytime i see you?”

“a curtsy would be fine”

“you’ve got to be kidding me”

“i’m not” he hissed.

“a commoner like me shouldn’t be a bother to you, just ignore me and move on with your exploration of the town” you scoffed, “as if you care about the town”

“come work for me in the castle” the guards that stood behind him gasped and so are the rest of the citizens who gathered around.

you laughed at his face, “yeah, funny”

“i’m serious”

you shared an eye contact and you could see his eyes softening.

“over my dead body” you let go of his grip and entered your house.

everyone around was so shocked about what just happened. a commoner and a prince? how dare you talk to a royal blood like that?

later that day, you went to search for a new job in town. you found one right next to your house, it was a small cafe with such a nice aroma.

the owner is the only one who’s working there, and was pretty glad that you’re searching a new job, “we need people like you y/n” she said.

“short tempered who are not afraid to fight for what’s right for them” you know the owner already, she helped you a lot as you grew up.

with your parents mostly being out of town, she took you under her wing and raised you well. she’s more like a mom figure to you than your own mom.

“i promise i’ll do my best and get the best achievements” you smiled and she nodded.

she taught you all about what you had to know and you started working right away.

it was the relaxation you needed the most. since the cafe is small, not a lot of people come by, and those who do come are usually so kind and generous towards you.

that night, heeseung stared outside of his window and noticed a small house, “it looks so warm and comfortable” he whispered.

it was your house he was staring at, it was far but not too far away from the castle.

he went to his bed, lying with his face facing up the ceiling. “she’s interesting” he thought, “why did i even suggest her to work here?”

“when would she stop acting so rude?” he scoffed, “is she always like that?”

it was 1 AM already and his millions of unanswered questions kept him up until then. he grabbed his big sweater and slowly yet surely got out of the castle, he couldn’t bare staying in his suffocating room anyway.

before he noticed it, his legs led him in front of your house. when he realized where he was, he got flustered and froze, that was until your door suddenly opened.

you jumped in place and pushed down the person who was standing outside your door right away.

“who are you?” you shout at the person who just fell. “it’s me, heeseung” he coughed.

your eyes widened and you held your hand out to help him get up, “i’m sorry!”

“oh so you do apologize sometimes” he groaned.

“don’t get on my nerves hee”

“what did you just call me?” he asked surprised.

“i called you hee, heeseung is too long for me”

“what about ‘your majesty’? or, ‘your highness’? not so hard”

you laughed, “no”

“why are you standing outside of my door at 1 AM?”

“why were you about to leave your house at 1 AM?”

“i couldn’t sleep” you both answered at the same time.

“you know i sometimes forget you’re a prince” you sighed.

“am i supposed to be different? you said the only thing that keeps me different is my title”

you shook your head, “you’re not what i expected to see when i heard the first crown prince is going to visit this town”

you opened wide your door for him to get him, and poured him a glass of water as he sat down on your sofa. “what did you expect to see then?”

“i don’t know—a rude, ignorant, snobish and cruel prince? i can keep on going” you shrugged.

“why do you hate the royal family so much?” he whispered.

“i can list you my problems with the royal family but it’ll never end,” you rolled your eyes, “but one of the things is that all of you are so ignorant and careless, it’s quite embarrassing of you”

“ignorant and careless?”

“look, this town is so small that you can walk from one corner to the other in like four hours if you’re actually taking your time to explore,” you breathed, “whenever you come to visit you’re barely here for an hour”

“you don’t care about how low the economy is here, some people are suffering and can barely survive till the end of the month”

“i’m sorry” heeseung’s eyes softened as he noticed a few tears starting to form in your eyes, “as if sorry can change anything” you wiped away your tears and poured him another glass of water.

heeseung took the time to observe your face, it looks like every part of you was touched by god’s hands. god you were so beautiful he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“are you okay?” you waved your hand in front of him. he blinked a few times and nodded, “i was just thinking about something”

“i think you should go back, before they realize you ran away again” you chuckled.

“and please don’t scare me like that again, i could’ve killed you so easily” you added.

he gave you a wide smile as he got up from the sofa, “thank you, y/n” he suddenly said, “i’ll do my best to help this town, and you”

you could swear your heart skipped a beat when you heard his last words, you shook it off quickly, then smacked him and pushed him outside of your door, “i don’t need help,” you rolled your eyes, “goodnight hee”

“goodnight” he replied and ran back to the castle.

you closed the door after he was nowhere in sight and dragged your back down against the door, “relax y/n, he won’t come back anymore”

you tried to relax yourself, you felt like you were holding your breath as long as he was close to you. it has never happened to you before and it scared you.

“there’s no way you’re catching feelings for the spoiled prince” you rolled your eyes and went back to your bed after a while.

“well well well” as soon as heeseung entered his room he was welcomed by the triple brothers, jay, jake and sunghoon.

“and where have you been in this late hour?” jake asked.

“i went out for a walk” heeseung whispered.

“wrong, we followed you outside” jay remarked.

“what have you thought to yourself?” sunghoon asked, “getting inside a commoner’s house?”

heeseung looked down, he didn’t know what to say or do.

“you know you can’t marry a commoner” jay shook his head.

“why not?” he suddenly asked. they all looked at him in shock, “are you seriously considering marrying her?”

“what if i am?” he rolled his eyes, “it’s not like you’d understand anyway”

“heeseung, you know it’s wrong” jake said and the rest nodded, “mom and dad are not going to approve your relationship with her” sunghoon added.

“worry about yourselves instead of me” he said and shoo them out of his room.

after closing his door he flopped on his bed, “what have you done to me, l/n y/n?”

“good morning y/n!” the owner of the cafe smiled widely at you, “i’ll be taking my leave early today, you’re in charge of the cafe”

you nodded and put on your apron, “have fun on your free day” you winked and she giggled, “you know me so well y/n”

“good morning” you heard a familiar voice calling.

“what are you doing here lee heeseung?” your eyes darted over the two guards that stood behind him.

“just visiting the town” he shrugged.

he lied. heeseung asked the guards some questions about you and one of them was about your work place.

“she used to work as a waitress in a restaurant, now she’s working in a cafe nearby her house” the guards said and heeseung nodded, “are you thirsty for coffee? we’re going to get some”

“what can i get for you?” you asked as it was a part of your job. “your favorite” he winked and sat at one of the tables.

you rolled your eyes and made him your least favorite drink, “enjoy” you served him his drink and your hands brushed with his. he quickly coughed and thanked you.

“your majesty, we need to go back to the castle, the queen’s orders” one of the guards remarked.

“just a few more minutes” he replied.

“we’ve been here for a few hours and all you do is drink that drink and stare at the girl” the other one said.

“a few more minutes” heeseung repeat and they sighed, they’re definitely going to get fired because of him.

he was busy staring at you while you were busy working. you didn’t fail to feel his fierce eyes staring at you—and he didn’t fail to notice your blushing cheeks.

you tried to focus on work, you really did. but how could you when the first crown prince was staring at you the whole time?

you finally breathed out when he left the cafe, a slight disappointment passed through your mind but you shrugged it off quickly.

that night you failed to fall asleep. turning right to left and then left to right on your bed.

lee heeseung. the first crown prince was driving you crazy.

“lee heeseung what have you done to m—“ you got cut off by a few knocks on your door.

you looked at the clock and saw it was already 1 AM.

“who could that be?” you opened the door and was welcomed by heeseung’s presence on the other side of the door.

he cleared his throat and waved, “hey”

“hey back” you raised your brow and opened the door for him to get in.

“what are you doing here again?” you asked.

“i couldn’t sleep” he groaned.

that’s it. that is his lame excuse to see you. he could go wherever he wants but he still chose to walk all the way to your house at 1 AM, all because he can’t sleep stop thinking about you.

you poured him a glass of water as he sat on your sofa.

“do you want me to read you a story before bed?” you rolled your eyes and he shook his head, “telling me about yourself is my kind of stories before bed”

you slightly pushed him out of embarrassment, “my life is boring, there’s nothing so interesting about me to know”

“what made you so short tempered and annoying?”

“human beings” you shrugged, “when people use you for your kindness, you want to protect yourself in a way, my way was to shield myself from everyone and i slowly forgot how to control my temper when i got pissed off at someone who got on my nerves”

“i don’t think i’ve done anything that got on your nerves but you still act so rudely towards me” he pointed out.

“that’s because—you’re a royal blood” you sighed, “you already know why i don’t like your kind”

he chuckled, “my kind?”

“you know what i mean!”

the rest of the night happened to be more interesting than you thought it would be.

you figured heeseung is more than just a spoiled prince who cares about himself only.

he told you stories about his childhood and how he was raised as a prince, and you told him about your favorite stories from your childhood.

you got closer by the end of the night, thinking about the fact that he might show up tomorrow suddenly excited you.

“i have to leave now before someone realizes i’ve been gone for the whole night” he giggled and you nodded.

both of you didn’t want the night to end.

“goodnight hee” a disappointment was hinted in your voice, “goodnight y/n” he replied sadly and left.

ever since that night, heeseung came from time to time around these hours and you always welcomed him with a glass of water and new enchanting stories to tell him.

you realized heeseung is the one you’ve been searching for a long time. someone who didn’t care about your rude behavior and couldn’t care less about your short temper. he embraced you and made you feel warm and comfortable around him.

heeseung found himself thinking about you all day, everyday. he wanted you, he fell in love with you. he figured that long time ago.

he felt like he could be himself around you, and not some prince people should be threatened by. you treated him like every other person and he couldn’t feel more lucky when he has you.

as much as you love his presence and him in general, you know it’s wrong.

the last time you saw him, you asked him not to come around anymore.

you were cuddled up with him on your sofa, you thought about it a lot and had to tell him how you felt, “hee,” you called.

he hummed while playing with your hair, “i don’t think you should show up here anymore” you gulped.

heeseung stopped playing with your hair and tilt his head, “what?”

“what you’re doing is basically sneaking out, people will start to notice sooner or later, it’s dangerous” you sighed.

“let’s just stay like that a few more minutes” he said, almost begging you not to let him go.

you agreed and hugged him tightly, scared that he’ll slip away from you.

you sat on your sofa and checked the clock. 1 AM—maybe he’ll come around today as well?

“no! he’s been here yesterday and i told him not to come! why would he do that?” a part of you really wanted to see him today, hug him tightly again and apologize for pushing him away from you.

you relaxed yourself and walked back to your bed, until you heard knocks on your door.

“who is it!” you shout behind the door.

“it’s me, open up!” you heard a soft voice calling.

you already knew who that was when opened the door, “you again?” you asked.

“i remember telling you not to come around anymore” you tried to act cold towards him. keeping yourself strong and making stupid excuses to yourself that it’ll hurt the both of you less than it hurts now.

“oh really? i thought you said to come over around these hours” he giggled.

how can you hold yourself back from someone like him?

you rolled your eyes and poured him a glass of water again as he entered the house.

“you know it’s wrong to do that,” you whispered, “so why are you coming here again and again?”

he then held your waist and pulled you closer to him, you could almost feel his lips on yours when he answers, “you’re interesting me y/n”

“i want you”

your cheeks started to heat up, you quickly shoved him away and coughed, “i’m a commoner and you’re a prince, it’s not going to work”

“but what if it will?” he said, “my parents are not so strict, i don’t think they’d care”

“maybe your parents won’t care, but the rest of the world would” you whispered.

“i don’t care about the rest of the world as long as i can be with you” he said.

“that’s too early for you to know that” you argued.

“and look how you made me feel about you in such a short time” it’s been two months ever since you started to meet up. for the both of you it felt like a week and no more than that.

“why me then?” you asked.

“you’re the first one to treat me like a normal person and not some kind of a threatening royal blood” he held your hands, “i feel so free around you”

you shook your head, “you’re risking your crown”

“i’m willing to do that ten times more if it means i can have you”

you stared at him and you two shared a long eye contact. his eyes were full with nothing but love, and yours were filled with hesitation and fear.

“let’s take it slow, i don’t want to rush things at all” he hugged you.

“i’ll come everyday around this hour, that’s a promise”

you slightly punched him, “i’ll kill you if you won’t”

he suddenly released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiled. it was definitely a confirmation that you’re willing to try it out with him.

“what made you change your mind?” he asked.

“just you” you replied, “apparently not all royal bloods are as bad as i think they are”

“yeah i don’t think you’ll think highly of my family” he shrugged, “i’m not a fond of them anyway”

you giggled and rolled your eyes, “shut up”

both you and heeseung made yourself a daily routine. the day starts with you working at the cafe and heeseung walking around his castle and trying to warm up his parents about marrying a commoner—and ends up with you and heeseung either cuddled up in your bed, or talk the night away from 1 AM until the last minute that he has to go back to the castle.

“mother” heeseung started to speak up in one of his lunchtime with his mother, “yes?” she asked.

“what do you think about me marrying a commoner?” he asked.

the queen laughed, “you? marrying a commoner?”

heeseung nodded, “will you approve my marriage if i happen to marry a commoner?”

“no,” she shook her head, “a royal blood needs to marry a royal blood”

“but,” he argued, “what if she’s the only one i love?”

heeseung was more than determined to change his mother’s way of thinking.

he has been spending months together with you every night, he falls in love with you all over again each time he sees you.

he was dead serious when he said he doesn’t care about losing his crown as long as he has you.

“you’ll learn to love other people, not a commoner” the queen argued back.

“not a chance” he cursed under his breath.

“i fell in love,” he finally confessed, “with a commoner”

the queen gasped, “for how long?”

“a few months now,” he nodded, “i’m willing to do anything in order to marry her”

“even if it means losing the crown” he added.

“a no is a no. and i’ll make sure you won’t be able to see her again” the queen shout.

“i’m giving up on my crown then!” he shout back and the room became quiet.

“what?” the queen asked surprised.

“i’ll give up on my crown, if it means i can have her” he repeat.

“very well,” the queen got up from her seat, “i’ll be taking that to your father”

that day he couldn’t rest, walking back and forth in his room out of stress. he wanted to run back to you, he wanted you to hold him tightly in your embrace, he wanted to hear that everything is okay from you—but he couldn’t.

not until he has a final answer to all the chaos.

it was around 5 PM when he was called to his parents bedroom.

the queen and king must’ve been talking about it for a few hours.

“heeseung,” the king called him, “yes father?” he whispered.

“i want to see the girl before i can decide” the kind nodded and heeseung felt relief.

in a few days, the youngest boy in the family will have his birthday party thrown in the castle.

“i’ll let you meet my siblings there” heeseung smiled as he played with your fingers, “since no adults are allowed” even though you and heeseung were already grown adults, the six brothers were invited to the celebration nonetheless.

you hummed, “what about your parents?”

“they wish to see you beforehand” he whispered.

“what?”

“for dinner, later today” he said, the clock already hit 4 AM which meant he already has to leave back to the castle.

“i’ll come pick you up” he said, “dinner, today, with my parents”

you tried not to freak out, but your boss already figured how stressed you are, “take a day off today honey” she pat your shoulder and you nodded.

you arrived home and went up to search for some neat clothes.

you heard a knock on the door and opened it, “hey” it was heeseung, the love of your life if you might say.

“hey” you let him in and he closed the door behind him.

“didn’t you bring any beautiful dresses or something?” you asked.

“why would i do that?” he tilt his head.

“so i would look formal in front of your parents dumbass!” you shout.

“y/n we really need to work on your temper,” he smiles, “my parents will throw us both outside of the castle if you act like that around them”

“i can’t control it” you rolled your eyes, “yes you can” he argued.

he then took your hands and plant a kiss on your forehead, “i’ll hold your hand the whole time, to help you relax”

you nodded and closed your eyes, leaning in his chest and hugging him, “i’m scared”

“nothing bad is going to happen, i promise you” he smiled, “and there’s nothing wrong with your clothes, you look so pretty in them”

“thank you” you whispered and hugged him even tighter than before.

you stood outside the dining hall and your hands started shaking, heeseung took your hand and held it tightly, his embrace was warm and comfortable, “relax, i’m here with you” he smiled and you nodded.

you opened the door and was welcomed by the queen, the king and the six other brothers which you thought will be introduced to you at the youngest brother’s birthday celebration.

“h-hello, your majesty” you curtsy in front of them.

“y/n, we’ve heard a lot about you from heeseung” the queen spoke first, “you look, elegant” the king added and you smiled.

“please, have a sit” heeseung guided you to the seat next to him and helped you sit down.

he held your hand again as he saw you trembling. you glanced at him and saw him smiling, moving his lips and assuring you everything is okay.

“tell us about yourself” the king smiled warmly.

“i work at a cafe near my house, i live close to the end of the town and close to the castle” you nodded, suddenly your whole life seem so short and boring, you realized you didn’t do much in your life.

“that’s nice” the queen smiled.

they were actually looking pretty kind and generous, not what you expected at all.

“how did he even manage to fall in love with someone like you?” one of the brothers suddenly asked.

“jay,” heeseung sighed, “please don’t do that”

“why not, heeseung? you fell in love with a commoner, she’s working in a small cafe and i bet she’s not even getting enough money for living, you broke the rule of not marrying a commoner, that’s messed up” jay argued.

“jay that’s enough!” the queen ordered.

“i don’t know if you’re married or not, nor have experienced love or not, but what i feel towards heeseung is different than any other emotion i’ve ever felt” you suddenly spoke, “i’m ready to give up on everything just for him, that’s how much i love him”

“i’m sorry it happened to be me” you whispered and looked down. heeseung clenched his jaw and sighed, a few tears fell from his eyes.

“commoner or not, i don’t care” he cleared his throat, “i love y/n, and y/n only. she is the one i’m willing to spend the rest of my life with, and i’m not going to let anyone get in our way”

“i approve your marriage” the queen said.

without even noticing, you made the queen and the king shed a few tears, “we know and we trust you that you’re going to take care of our child” the king wiped his tears.

“commoner or not,” the queen spoke, “you’re always welcomed in our family” she got up and hugged you.

you froze for a few seconds before hugging her back.

what kind of a weird royal family is that?

a few days passed and the rumor about the first crown prince marrying a commoner has already spread out. the whole world heard about the news and swoon around the new royal couple which was quite unexpected.

“you’ve made everyone believe in fairytales” the queen joked. “i’m very happy for you and my son” she added and held your hands.

“you made him realize what does it feel like to fall in love with someone” she smiles, “i can see the way he looks at you, he’s willing to die for you y/n. keep him close to you and take care of him for me and his father”

you nodded, “i will, mother. i love him more than anything else”

she then hugged you tightly, “we trust you”

the next day, you were getting ready for ni-ki’s birthday celebration when heeseung got inside your room.

“you look so beautiful y/n” he whispered and pecked your forehead. “you look even prettier, hee” you giggled.

“i just had a conversation with my mother, i don’t know what you did to her but she said she’s already planning our wedding” he chuckled.

“it’s just my charm i guess” you shrugged.

you and heeseung walked down to the ballroom, where the celebration was held, and were greeted by jay.

“i wanted to apologize” he said, “about our last conversation”

“that’s okay” you nodded.

“i also wanted to thank you, you made me realize that love is not something i can just give up on” he smiles, “thanks for saving my marriage”

you and heeseung chuckled, “i’m happy for you” heeseung said and hugged his brother.

“let’s raise a toast to the birthday boy!” everyone cheered for ni-ki and heeseung hugged you tightly.

“i can’t wait to marry you” he whispered in your ear and kissed your cheeks.

you turned to face him and wrapped your arms over his neck, “and i can’t wait to marry you too, my love” he leaned in to kiss you passionately and held you closer to you than ever.

“i love you” he mumbled after the kiss, “i love you too, hee”

TAG-LIST ; @jaeneohee @hsgwrld @enhastolemyheart @enhacatalog @kaykay11sworld @ipoststuffandyeah @beomsbeanie @queestionmark @ineedsomezzz @ikayyyyyy @nshmrarki

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

[tarjapearce]

Crimson Crown (Pt. 9)

Cover by @pinkiemme ✨

King! Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader

Warnings: Violence, implicit manslaughter, mild angst, Dark! Miguel, scheming, character introduction, emotional distress.

Summary: Miguel's time runs short to get you back. A new ally is brought in the game.

"Peter."

Jessica mumbled, concerned at her fellow commander's bewildered expression.

"He... He killed her?"

"Yes. Now we're instructed to wipe the D'Angelo family."

Jessica's words sat like a brick in his  stomach. Peter wasn't one to reminisce in the past, but knew that when Miguel, no, The Red King, showed up, only bloodshed satisfied the voracious appetite. Sometimes not even that.

The ever reminder of his friend's past, a nature that always caught up to him.

"He mentioned that he'd do it himself. I thought he was lying."

"Is Miguel we're talking about, Pete." Jessica secured her greaves and armor, ready for the upcoming bloodshed. "I just hope he gets to calm down before he hurts the Princess even further. What happened anyways? I saw Dana."

"She arranged a meeting. Guess she spilled it all to the princess."

Jessica sighed, rubbing her temples, "Although Dana's gone, the damage is done. Keep an eye on her and let me know as soon as Baron Darko shows up."

"Right..."

"And if possible... Keep the princess away from him. We don't know his reaction if she rejects him again."

Peter just nodded, letting a dreadful sigh.

----

With every step he gave, the more his preys recoiled. There was no room for them to escape as The Red King had blocked every escape route, and the ones that somehow managed to scurry from his blazing fury, ended up in the hands of his soldiers.

Screams and terror filled the D'Angelo Villa when the reaper showed up, in the shape of the King himself, mercilessly swinging his swords at whatever thing that moved.

The Red King took matters on his own, he wouldn't deny himself the right to end up the lives of those that reminded him of the woman that threw everything out the window, out of spite and jealousy.

With every swing of his twin swords, the anger that boiled inside, sung in delight. With every droplet of blood that soaked his body, his eyes seemed to twinkle in utter joy.

His task was clear. To wipe the D'Angelo's. It didn't matter if the house the bloodshed was happening was one of the first gifts he gave to Dana. It would burn too.

Jessica wielded her sword, sticking to only deliver the final blow if they survived the king's ruthless anger. But poor of Baroness Carla, Dana's mother.

Her pleas were ignored as Miguel dragged her by her hair to the chimney.

"Your majesty!" She pleaded and struggled  "I beg of you, stop this madness!"

She hiccuped as Miguel let her hair go

"You seem to have forgotten your place, Carla."

"I haven't! This is..." She panted and kneeled before him, begging, "Please.  Spare me. You won't hear from me again!"

"You're right. I won't. Cause I'll make sure of it."

"W-What?"

Carla's eyes could only widen at his next words.

"You'll burn. With this place."

Her head shook, just like the bird's nest she had for a hair.

"No!"

The rest of his soldiers had been dousing the villa with flammable oil, the same kind that were used in the machineries back in the main cities of Arachne.

Glass shattered, and soon smoke begun filling the upper floors, fire consuming everything in it's wake. Temperature rising and fogging up the second part of the stairs.

"Miguel, I beg of you!"

He only quirked a brow, while his eyes remained in a deadpan.

"Cállate de una puta vez. Me tienes harto." (Shut the fuck up already. I'm sick of you)

Miguel took a lamp and doused the oil around Carla that backed away as soon as the liquid reached the hems of her skirt, without much thought he clashed his swords together, causing some sparks to bounce off and bringing to life a roaring fire.

Carla screamed, trying to put the flames away. The last thing she could see was a tall and imposing shadow, glowering with red eyes her way.

But if she was to die, he'd hear her. Even if it that meant to rush her death thanks to the rising smoke up her lungs.

"You'll pay with everything you love the most! You hear me!?" She shouted with the little strength she had. "You'll pay!"

The Red King's eyes crinkled in amusement, but instead of talking, he just turned on his heels, leaving the fire to devour everything in its wake.

The door was slammed, his red eyes roared in tandem with the fire around him. Like a true demon spat right out of the deepest corner of Hell.

"Keep the fire under control. Once done, search the area."

"What about Baron Darko?"

"Let him witness his failure, and deliver him Dana's ashes once he has done so."

His soulless stare contemplated for a bit more the fire that roared alive in mighty and loud cracks as it consumed the succumbing structure. Erasing all traces of a once noble home he took under his wing.

In truth, he never really cared about Dana's family. He had initially just wanted her, but her generous soul and body had gotten her family the very same Villa that now scorched at his feet. Carla's screams echoed weakly until they were no more.

There was nothing that bound him to the past, as it burned into nothing but ash and soot.

Yet, he felt empty. And he hated it.

Despite him getting rid of the now unnecessary evil, it felt like a tremendous pyrrhic victory. It didn't satisfied him.

"Your majesty." Jessica spoke, kneeling beside him, "All the family members were slaughtered. Dana's ashes soon will be ready."

"Do you think she'd fear me?"

Jessica looked at him as she rose, surprised by his sudden question and took a sigh. She needed to be careful with her words, he hated getting sugarcoated after all.

She could only muster a "Probably."

"I need to see the princess."

"And you think seeing her after a fresh kill is a good idea, because?"

His eyes glowered at her, Jessica looked away.

"As you wish."

---

Call it good or bad luck, but you weren't in your room. His nose flared angrily and his lips scowled upon not finding you inside.

He needed to see you, to show you what he had done to try and compensate the damage he had caused you indirectly. He needed you to witness what happened when someone tried to hurt you.

Cause the ones that had dared to tear you both apart were no more. The sleazy and annoying bitch he had for a mistress was being turned into plant's fertilizer as he roamed your room. But even so, the putrid aura that reminisced from Dana's soul would surely make the plants to die. Just like her.

He wouldn't dare to soil something so precious like your playground and knowledge. He had done enough.

His eyes went for the not so hidden diary on your desk. If the many times he had read it had taught him something, was that you always keep it hidden.

Could you possibly know about him reading and invading your privacy? No. He's always been careful and made sure to put it back where it was. But the way your diary was so carelessly placed on the desk only made him assume you left it there for resuming your writing later.

His hand hesitated before grabbing the worn out leather cover with all the gentleness he could muster, to then flip the pages, as if continuing his weekly reading.

The king has agreed! Against all odds and my own nerves, I've gotten him to take a break and invited him over lunch.

I cannot wait to see how everything unfolds!

He remembered that day as it was a couple of hours ago. You had caught him off guard, with all his defenses on his ankles. How could he say no to you when you were so excited to share with him?

Now he'd be lucky if he got glimpses of you if anything .

Miguel grunted as he read the next entry.

The king. He's such a wonderful man. He's been an amazing company. We shared some more of Arachne and even ourselves. I believe that we're getting closer.

Would he be a good kisser? Probably. His lips are always inviting and delectable. Oh dear... I'm thinking inappropriately again. My heart sings with joy whenever he thinks of me as his future bride.

He chuckled, feeding his ego for a moment only to frown at the next pages. It wasn't just the way the sheets were written, but the actual state of them. Wrinkled, crumpled even with blotches of ink smeared all over.

His finger traced over them, feeling the remnants of your liquid pain, long dry on the surface. And by the many stains in them, he assumed you had spent hours crying.

His scorching fury enervated, slowly, upon reading a simple line.

I thought him different.

He gulped and clenched his jaw. Ready to keep his eyes glued on the words you you didn't speak, but wrote.

I was naive in to believing this could be different. But I think I've forgotten my place in all this.

I really tried to understand, but at the end of the day everything that matters are selfish desires. I should have seen this coming

And he should too. It was all matter of time for the bomb to explode at his face. And now that it did, he was left with so much to do that for once he was at lost on how to get it all back. How to get you back.

I had a bad feeling when receiving that letter, after my picnic with him.

His frown deepened.

God, he wanted to be able to turn back time and have Dana killed in other painful ways for being so damn bold and stupid.

I met her. I met his mistress. And god, I wish I didn't.

She is cunning enough to lure me alone, dangerous and made sure to remind me of my place in all this political game with her words. And she's gorgeous.

I felt my heart break in million shards as she revealed her title to me. The king's main mistress.

He should've definitely made Dana's death slower.

Is this why he refused to see me at first? Is this why he was so reluctant to share his time with me? I don't know what to believe anymore.

I feel... dirty.

A painful pang ran through his chest, dulling the anger, replacing it with a glum wave of guilt.

I let his hands to touch me, when he has touched her. Even though I scrubbed hard enough to make my skin burn, I still feel his caresses on me. How do I get rid of them? I feel fooled and filthy.

"Princesa..." he mumbled, guilt dripping in every syllable.

He flipped the page.

She is set into producing him a heir, or so she stated. That they've been trying even before I came. No wonder why Prince Gabriel mistook me for a mistress that night.

But, why would I stay between the both? They both lie and hurt and I know when to admit defeat.

Miguel had to clutch at his chest as his heart gave a painful beat. A frustrated sigh escaped him.

"Jessica?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Bring my medicine."

Jessica left, and he kept on reading.

I spilled the truth to my mother back when I visited her. Bless her, it was good to see her despite our condition. She told me, instructed me even to return home if he ever causes me great pain again.

His breath hitched as his heartbeats increased erratically.

I wanted to give him the benefit of doubt first, and I believed him

His jaw clenched even tighter as there was a smudge of ink at the end of the word. Another dry tear muddling the last two letters.

May my people and God forgive me, but I won't marry him. I refuse to lay with him, and much less in a bed where he had so many others before. Lady Dana specially. He's like the rest of those I knew.

I might be selfish to think this way, but... I thought I could have him for myself. That I could have my own family and some peace at last, but now I realize that it's all been in my imagination. I've played my role as pawn in this game and although my purpose wasn't fulfilled completely, I can only hope that the next man I'm bound to isn't a liar.

No, he wouldn't allow it. No other man would have you. He couldn't.

My mother has always reminded me that there is always more men out there that would die for me without a second thought. Would they lie too, though? I don't know. I hope not. I couldn't take another blow like this.

Jessica returned just in time before he entered into a crisis. He gulped down the vial's content in a go. The sour and foul tasting liquid slid down his throat, burning his esophagus with its much needed nastiness.

The Commander watched him, concerned as he tucked the diary back on the desk and rummaged through the several scribbled papers in your desk. He found Dana's letter, trying his absolute best to resist the urge to tear to shreds the piece of paper. It was her handwriting.

And something else he wasn't prepared for. A letter to your mother, Queen Dhalia, announcing your return to Theleria.

You were leaving.

"Your majesty?" He ignored Jessica.

Too dumbstruck and stunned to actually say something. That sapped completely all reminiscing anger out of his body, only to be replaced by something he was rarely acquainted with. Despair and fear.

You were leaving.

The thought at first wouldn't have fazed him in the slightest, he'd just go back to his own duties and forget about you in a span of days. But now that he got to share something so important with you such as his vision for his people and open up more about himself, letting you go would have to be the most stupidest of things he could ever do.

"Get me this woman..." He snapped his fingers repeatedly to himself trying to remember the name, "Lucille."

Jessica had to blink a couple of times before speaking "Beg your pardon?"

"Lucille. The princess most trusted maiden." He repeated as he reread the paper, "Send a letter to Theleria asking for her, get a group of four to guard her. I need that woman in Arachne as soon as possible."

"Right?... Is there anything else?"

"Get a room ready for her too. As soon as she's here I wanna know. Keep it a secret though. Let me know when you intercept the princess' letter to the Queen."

Jessica's eyes softened and nodded with a small smile as she left, his scribes would come up with the letter and in matter of hours, the messenger was already galloping through.

It took your tears and ink smeared in the paper to bring him back.

----

As much as you wanted to cry and hide from the world, you knew that giving in the righteous feeling of sadness wouldn't be the right thing to do.

Every time you woke up, prayed to not see him, to keep him away from you. And so far the universe or whoever above listened.

You still wanted to leave some knowledge behind before returning home. You spent your days teaching, but not in the lab.

You chose to go to the hospital instead, and see the treatments for yourself. Some effective, and others not so much.

It kept you busy and grounded as it also gave you a small taste of royal duties

And it was good. It kept you away from the ever constant thoughts that awaited for you to give into them, to plague and hunt your mind.

So far it had helped, You barely spent your days in the castle anyways, Peter always tailed behind, keeping you safe, but even then, you spoke with him when needed. It made it easier to detach from everything that rendered Arachne.

The letter was sent soon enough, and hopefully within a couple of days you'd get a reply.

Not only you missed your home but Lucille. The only one you trusted now. Soon you'll be home, away from the kingdom that brought you nothing but a few moments of joy yet so much pain.

Now you understood why the kingdom was feared. It's power to inflict such pain and suffering not only through blades and weapons wasn't to be underestimated. And you learned it the bad way.

You could almost taste freedom. Just a couple of days more and you'll be back home. There was so many things you wanted to share, so much to tell and write with your own students.

If you weren't at the hospital, you were in your room. Like the beginning of everything. Slowly rotting away, until your mother would scoop you up and save you. She refused to have her story repeated on you.

Queen Dhalia knew when to press and when to step aside. And she promised you to find a way to keep the kingdom safe. You'd be fine.

With a deep breath, you sat on the desk you had been pouring your memories into and grabbed a paper and your pen.

Ready to break your engagement with Miguel through a letter.

----

Lucille could only stare at Miguel for what it felt like forever. His order had left her speechless.

Tell me everything you know about her.

Simple as that.

Lucille was five years older than you, she had been your confidant, your friend through thick and thin, and also the one that helped Queen Dhalia to raise you and train you in the medical arts.

And now, the most powerful man of the continent sat before her, asking about you in order to come up with a plan to get you back.

"Why don't you just apologize, my lord?"

"She refuses me. I tried to explain, but... she refused to be addressed even."

"Rightfully so." Lucille mouthed.

His eyes narrowed at her words, but he could do nothing but accept them. You avoided him like the plague. In fact, he hadn't seen you in a week now.

"Having me retrieved from my homeland in order to be spilling her secrets, for you to gain her favor again seems not only excessive, but frightening if I'm honest."

"And I apologize. But the princess is to remain here."

With me.

Lucille sighed and watched him.

"She only wanted you to be honest ever since the beginning, my lord. I truly will never understand why you men make it so complicated when it's the simplest things a woman ask of you."

"I hurt her."

"Very much, yes. It'll be useless of me to tell you all you wanna know, if you don't apologise."

"Santa Muerte, mujer... what part of she refuses me, haven't you understood yet?"

"The part you skip for your own convenience? The truth?"

Miguel snapped his head at Lucille so fast his neck almost sprained, glaring both in surprise and anger. How dared she put him in his place.

"You're talking to a king, lady Lucille. Be mindful of your words."

Lucille nodded, bowing her head in a quick yet dismissive motion. Thelerian women were truly something else.

"I'm aware that my words upset you, my lord and I apologize for it. But In truth, there isn't much I can do."

"What do you mean? You were there with her when Queen Dhalia offered me her hand."

Lucille sighed, defeated.

"Neither of you were subtle in the slightest."

"And bringing me here when she's probably packing up for leaving is also subtle because?"

Miguel pursed his lips, getting a hint of where you had gotten the attitude from. You carried a bit of those you loved, close.

"Touché."

Lucille smirked and spoke again.

"You already know the only way hou can fix this is asking her forgiveness."

Miguel kept shaking his head. Neither of them seemed to cave in, but Lucille sighed.

"But if you believe that getting me to talk to her will fix this situation, then I see what I can do, I don't promise anything though."

His shoulders slumped as he sat before Lucille across the desk "Having her agree to a hearing is more than enough for me. I will apologize."

"Good. Know that doing this feels like I'm betraying her trust already. But you seem true to your intentions and that's enough for me to try and talk some sense into her. You'll let her go in case she rejects you again, right?"

His brow quirked, curious and a tad annoyed. "You seem convinced I'll get my hopes crushed."

"It's not out of spite for hurting my Princess I assure you, your majesty. When something gets into her head nothing can get her out of it. Not even I."

Miguel watched her. Probably in her early thirties, plump body shape, sharp face that only matched her hazel feline look and dark blonde curls.

Lucille regarded him with the Thelerian look. A gaze Miguel had learned to understand as a 'Truth or deceit, I'll know about it anyways.'

Unwavering, slow blinks, deep and soul searching that not only weighed words but judged silently without even actually intending to. It unnerved him. Even more when you did it. He had witnessed such stare when he invited you at the council's meeting.

"Have you disposed off your mistress already, my lord?"

Miguel nodded, and this brought nothing but surprise to your friend.

"Seems times have changed. That gives me an idea."

Miguel gestured for her to continue.

"Have you heard about our Thelerian holiday, the Festival of Embers?"

"Vaguely."

"We use such day to remember our fallen, it's also the day to remember Prince Emmett's funeral. It's a holiday dedicated to honor and remember, but also heal."

His brow quirked again.

"You see, as most Thelerian visit the cemeteries, some leave a small offers in their loved ones grave's. Mostly potions and medicines for those that can't reach the main cities for aid."

"Your point is?" His tone irked

"You can use the holiday to rekindle with the princess. She'll appreciate it so."

Miguel seemed to ponder her words. And still he was at lost on what to do. He smacked his lips before speaking again

"How does she celebrate it?"

Lucille smiled "The Princess usually goes to a meaningful place to her, lights up a little fire and burns a letter. In it is written whatever thing she wants to forget. Quite simple, but it brings her comfort."

"It shall be done."

"Then you better get your letter written soon. The festival is in two days. I must ask though, your highness."

"Hm?" Miguel straightened up as he rummaged through his desk, in search of paper.

"Why did you keep that woman all this time?"

He rolled his eyes as he resumed his search, speaking a bir curt. "I bid you a good evening, Lady Lucille."

She chuckled, pleased at his reluctance. After all you were the only one he owed explanations to.

"Likewise, your highness."

----

The loud and maddening shrieks from Baron Darko could be felt through the skies.

He cursed, panted a bit more, recovering his breath only to have it escaping again with his maudlin and desperate cries.

His family was gone. Like his home as there was nothing but ash, soot and debris before him.

Fire had consumed everything, part of the structure collapsed within, leaving a massive hole in the second floor. Black and jagged columns were imprinted on the white stony walls.

Darko's boots crunched over the tiny fragments of wood and stone as he frantically searched for anyone that remained in a piece, not really caring if his fingers blistered or splintered. But not even that was granted to him.

He found none, not even the fabric pieces of dresses, nothing.

Jessica stepped closer as the man folded over to cry and mourn, she held the small urn with Dana's ashes and placed it next to him.

"No... No! Get it away from me!"

He scrambled on the floor away from her, slithering through the dirt and debris.

"This was Dana's doing."

"Shut up!"

Baron Darko spat, everything he held dear was now gone. All because you had came between Dana and Miguel. You were the culprit of what laid before his bleary eyes.

All his descendants were gone. Wiped away in the blink of an eye. How could the king do it?

Jessica put the ashes next to him and turned on her back, leaving him on his own. With the exception of a guard.

Tears and snot rolled down and his weathered face, pain oozed out of every pore of his skin. Smothering his anxiety with something so raw and persistent. Rage.

His blood boiled as he slammed his fist nonstop on the floor, to then slam Dana's urn into the ruins of his home. An ashy cloud surrounded him for a moment.

"They'll pay... Dana."

His daughter. His pride and everything that rendered The D'Angelos. His triumph card to get him closer to the throne.

Or so he had believed for so long his delusions had affected Dana and the rest of his family.

He always believed Dana would make a great Queen. But now, plans had drastically changed.

Miguel was making an example out of him and what happens when people didn't pay attention to his warnings.

But this time, he'd prove not only the King himself but you, what he was capable of. If he was the last remaining, it only meant for him to be the chosen one to see the O'Hara and Blanchard bloodline fall.

A pair of light brown eyes watched him.

"Leave me alone!"

Darko roared but the young guard only advanced to him, Even though Arachne's uniform covered him, his heart and mind was elsewhere. There was a purple and green collar he wore around his slender neck. The braids hung loose behind his head as his soul piercing eyes bore into the distraught elder man.

"Wanna join us?"

Darko did nothing but spit at his feet. The boy looked unamused but stood next to him, repeating the question, impatient.

"You wanna join us, old man?"

Darko looked up as the braided boy pulled out a small scroll, still sealed in wax.

"W-What's that?" Darko immediately sobered up, cleaning his face with whatever means. The boy just scrunched mildly his face in disgust as he placed the scroll on his wet hand.

"Kingpin's invitation." His tone unamused, impassive with a tiny nit of apprehension in it.

Darko's breath hitched upon realizing the boy's position. A double agent.

"Are you in or not? I've got things to do"

Darko nodded.

"Then read that. We'll know if you break the rules."

"We?... Wait! How do I know I could trust you?" Although the idea of having double agents seemed preposterous, he knew the scheme wasn't impossible. Much less with a man like Kingpin at the front.

"The king ordered to wipe your family. I was in charge of Lady Dana's cremation. The king killed her by snapping her neck."

"Do you know why?"

"Lady Dana spoke to the princess. I don't know the details but it was enough to have the king angry."

"That Thelerian whore..." Darko hissed, "Count me in."

The boy nodded and turned on his back, and advanced towards his horse.

"Hey! wait! What's your name?"

"G."

Darko furrowed his brows in confusion, "G?"

"Morales. Needless to say that you'll know what will happen to you if this comes out to light."

Darko just nodded, letting the young boy leave. He wasn't older than sixteen. But ages were little when a dethroning was ahead.

----

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[thedreamlessnights]

Someone to shed some light - pt. 1

Astarion x gn!reader (Upcoming NSFW)

{series masterlist}

Synopsis: After being raised as a commoner, you find yourself as the last in a royal bloodline, forced into a marriage with someone you've never met. He's more than he seems. AKA: An arranged marriage AU with everyone's favorite vampire.

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood, death, and minor injuries. Mentions of sex, but nothing particularly graphic. Very brief, not graphic suicidal ideation.

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This idea possessed me and did not let me go. I don't know where it came from, or how on earth it's already 6k. I'm feral for Astarion, and it just... happened. Anyway. The royalty aspects are not remotely lore-accurate to the Baldur's Gate games, for which I apologize. Sometimes you just have to make shit up.

If reality is meant to be believable, then you must be in a dream. 

No one ever said what kind of dream, though. Not a dream you’d wanted, that’s for sure. Most days, this all feels like some horrible nightmare. But maybe, just maybe - if you close your eyes and stay exactly where you are, thinking about nothing at all - it could be a nice one. 

The palace gardens are beautiful, after all. Even this place can’t ruin that. 

Silver moonlight shines on the earth below, giving everything a ghostly cast. Soft, silky wind brushes against your skin, and the faint aroma of flowers fills the air. Honeysuckle. Roses. Lilies. 

Yes. If you shut your eyes tight and pretended everything else away, it would be a nice dream. But you know better. Beyond the lovely gardens and the ornamented walls, this place is a prison. And never, not in a thousand years, could you have pictured anything like this happening to you. 

Not even in a dream.

You’ve never been one to fantasize about being royalty. Riches and power simply don’t appeal to you that way, especially not when comfortable clothes and the freedom to be yourself are traded in for the sake of discomfort and diplomacy. 

Still, the reality of it is somehow even worse than you’d thought. The clothes pinch at your sides and itch at your neck, and you can’t move in them the way you want to. Everything you’ve worn is stiff and tight and ridiculously heavy, as if all your outfits were made for a doll, not for someone alive. Then again, maybe that was the intention. You certainly feel like a puppet. 

If only none of it was real. 

You still haven’t accepted any of it, not really. It’s as if you’re waiting for someone in the shadows to jump out at you and laugh, telling you it was all pretend. Of course you aren’t royalty, they’d say. Of course you don’t belong here. And you’d go back to your home, where everything is right, where you belong. 

You can still see it all in your mind, so real that it’s practically touchable. The thought of it never fully fades. Just as soon as you’ve closed your eyes, you find yourself reliving that day once more.

The smell of baking bread floods a warm room. The heat of the fire sears the air. Customers bustle in and out, laughing and drinking and picking fights. Home. The way you’ve always known it. The way you’ve always loved it.

Then the room slowly goes silent. Wary. Palace guards lurk in the doorway, their eyes sweeping over the crowd, and your fingers immediately itch for your knife. The crown hasn’t any business in this place - what could they want?

When one of them steps inside, gazing at the crowd like they’re dirt beneath his feet, it takes everything you’ve got in you to stay calm. You can practically hear Cal’s voice in your head, telling you to take some deep breaths.

As the guard stalls in front of you, he stares. His gaze runs over you slowly, like you were less than he’d expected - a disappointment to him without even trying. “You,” he says. “You’re coming with us. Queen’s orders.”

Every pair of eyes in the inn land on you. Your heart starts beating so fast and rough that you’re sure it’ll burst straight through your ribs and fall out of you. The room spins. You’re biting your tongue, resisting the urge to pick a fight, because Cal is shaking his head and tugging at your sleeve. The single voice of reason in this place. Blood slowly fills your mouth with the taste of iron. 

And you go with them. For some godsdamned reason, you go.

As soon as you’ve left, you know it was a mistake. There’s a whole troop here - enough men to tell you that you’re considered a threat, somehow. Enough men to keep your arms folded into you, wondering what in the hells you could have done to warrant this attention. 

Despite everything, you force yourself to maintain some dignity, keeping your shoulders squared until you get to the palace. You suck in deep breaths and try to hide your shaking hands. This place… it won’t get the better of you, if you can help it. But it’ll all depend on why you’re here, and furthermore - what they want.

As you approach the throne room, they stand back to let you in. When you hesitate, the leader shoves you through the open door, and it slams shut behind you with a sound that echoes throughout the room. You’re left in a large, empty place with two shadowy figures that become clearer as you step further in. You recognize only one of them.

The queen is entrancing in the flesh, all dark hair and flashing eyes. She says nothing, but her gaze analyzes you from her throne as the man - who, from the look of things, must be her court sorcerer - approaches you. A needle pricks your finger and leaves a dull throbbing in its place. 

Silence. A nod. 

“It’s true, then,” the queen says. Her voice is like wine, dark and smooth in your ears. “You’re a child of Calthir. Royal blood flows in your veins.”

You’re standing in front of her, squinting in the bright light. Her words seem a million words away. Some other dimension. Some other reality.

“I - I don’t…”

“You poor thing. You didn’t know?” she asks. “Well. Perhaps they were clever to keep it from you. Or perhaps not.” 

“It isn’t possible,” you blurt out. “What you’re saying. I can’t be… that.”

She raises a brow. “But you are.”

This time, your nails draw blood when they curve into your palms. Stinging pain floods your senses. “Then what do you want from me?” you ask, unable to mask the frustration brimming your words. “Calthir fell when I was a child. I don’t even remember it.”

“Where are your parents?” she asks.

You swallow hard. “Dead. Just after I was born.”

For a long moment, she stares down at you, her dark, intelligent eyes gleaming in the light. “Calthir has fallen, yes. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t alive.” Her words are measured, carefully chosen for the most impact. “Every day, more of my soldiers are lost to Calthirian dreamers. They want their kingdom back, their so-called rightful ruler placed on the throne. You. They’ve been searching for you. Do you understand?”

You do. “You’re going to kill me.”

She clicks her tongue. “And make the problem worse?” With a graceful movement, she gets to her feet, towering over you from her throne. “No. Their search is thorough, aided by magic. They’d discover your fate, sooner or later.” She pauses, lifting two fingers to her temples as if sensing an oncoming headache. “You’d become a martyr. Mass kindling for the zealots. I won’t have that.

“Then what?” you ask weakly. “Prison?”

She laughs hollowly. “And what good would that do?”

You can’t think of an answer.

“No,” she sighs. “Prison would be pointless. A waste. I still have use for you.”

Fear floods your gut, thick and dark. When you speak, your mouth feels like it’s full of sand. “Which is?”

She tilts her head. “I’m sure you’ll find it simple enough. You’re going to marry my son.”

In the gardens, the crickets are singing. It’s the first thing you notice when you come back to yourself, ears ringing. You’ve gone through that memory a hundred times, but it seems more real now, sharper, somehow. Your stomach churns with the urge to be sick, but the feeling fades quickly. 

It’s starting to settle in. That this is your life now. You’ll likely never see your home again. Your friends. All of your ambition, gone - thrown away for some petty diplomacy. You’re engaged to a man you’ve never met, and for the rest of your life, he’ll be tied to you.

More than anything else in this place, the prince doesn’t seem real. Even his name feels foreign in your thoughts, a muddy figure you can never put a face on. Strangely enough, the palace doesn’t have any portraits of him - which doesn’t put you any more at ease - and none of the servants will talk to you about him. You’ve been here over a week and still haven’t seen him, not even for a moment. Not even a glimpse.

Maybe you’ll never meet him. That’d be nice.

You doubt you’ll get so lucky.

The rest of the night passes by slowly, oozing along like syrup. You’re more than happy to sit in relative silence and enjoy the peace while it lasts. After all, this kind of freedom will be a rare thing, soon. Your eyes start to grow heavy, but you have no desire to head back inside. Not yet. 

When it’s long past midnight, the sound of a snapping branch behind you startles you to your feet. Your knife is gone, taken by the guards, but you reach for it all the same, cursing when you come up empty . But there’s nothing when you turn - nothing dangerous, at least. Just a squirrel, scurrying up a tree. 

Just as you’re about to return to your seat, a man comes stumbling out of the woods, scaring you half to death. He halts in his tracks as he sees you, eyes widening as he looks at you. He must not have expected anyone to be out this late at night, and you can’t blame him. It is absurdly late. And yet, here you are, and there’s nothing stopping you from taking in every inch of his clearly guilty appearance. 

The first thing you see, because it would be impossible to miss, is the blood. It’s all over him, splattered across his face and tattered clothes, staining his hands. His silky white hair curls around his pointed ears, dirtied with dirt and leaves. His dark eyes that you can’t quite make out the color of lock onto your every move.

He’s handsome. And, from the look of things, he’s probably going to kill you. 

You aren’t quite sure whether or not you want him to, considering everything. You wouldn’t have to go through with the sham of a marriage if you’re dead. Then again… are you really ready to let go?

For a moment, neither of you move. Your heart is thrumming under your ribs, and your feet are frozen where you stand. His fear turns into something else - puzzlement. His head tilts ever so slightly. Then, slowly, he takes a step back. You don’t move, because what could you do? Chase him? You’re not that much of a fool.

He chances another step away, and when you still don’t react, a third. And just like that, the man vanishes into the night, and you’re left alive and unscathed, staring out into the darkness of the woods he’d come from. 

You can’t help but feel a little disappointed he hadn’t killed you, or at least tried. It would have been exciting, at least.

After a few more minutes of nothing but silence, you turn on your heel and head back inside. The next time you see him is three weeks later, and until then, there’s not a moment he’s not in your thoughts.

As the days pass, you soon come to realize that the worst thing about this place is the boredom. It should be a thousand other things - the pinching clothes, the ache of your old life that never stops throbbing in your chest, the soon-to-be husband you haven’t even seen - but it isn’t. It’s the never-ending, constant boredom.

Gods, is it ever boring. You read every decent book in the library. You walk around the gardens at least five times a day, looking for something new. You linger around the courtyards, hoping for a bit of gossip. And every day, it’s all the same, and there’s nothing. And every day, you think of the strange man in the woods and wonder who or what he possibly could have killed. You’d checked the woods the next morning but came up completely empty.

As the wedding approaches, the air around the castle grows thick and tense. Arguments ring out from the halls about this or that - flowers, invitations, food. You’re shoved into at least twenty different potential outfits to see how they look, pinched and prodded. Servants scrub your skin raw despite your protests, even though it’s still a week away. 

The queen is almost as rare a sight as her son is, though you do catch her slipping through the main hall once. She hasn’t spoken to you since that first day. Perhaps isolation runs in the family.

Which is why it’s so surprising when, three nights before the wedding, you hear her voice coming from a passage down the hall. It’s late. You should be sleeping, but your thoughts have kept you awake, and you’re roaming the halls like an aimless ghost. Your feet stall when you hear the echoing of words - something shouted not far from you. 

From the sound of it, she’s in the east wing, an off-limit portion of the castle you’d been told was dangerous and in dire need of repair. You’d only listened at the time because no one else went in there, not even the servants. But now… 

You chance edging in a little closer, keeping your steps quiet and your body in shadow. When you manage to sneak a look, Queen Erelin is standing in the midst of floors so clean that they shine, shouting at one of the closed doors.

“Every time I do anything for you, you fight with me,” she snarls, pacing up and down the hall. “I am doing what is best for you! Making you better! Why can’t you understand that?”

When no answer comes, she stalls in front of the door, lets out a long, heavy sigh, then throws her hands into the air and mutters something final under her breath. She leaves without so much as a glance toward your hiding spot. Your breath comes out in a whoosh of relief, tension flooding out of your shoulders.

When the fear is finally gone, curiosity takes its place. The east wing is silent and open, practically begging you to take a look, and you’re not in a place to resist. When you move closer, you can see warm light flooding out from underneath a door - the one she’d been shouting at. It’s not difficult to guess who must be in there, considering the facts. Would he answer, if you knocked? Would he talk to you? 

A long moment passes in silence as flickers of movement spill their way under the door. Well, if you’re going to spend your life with him, you might as well find out what he’s like in advance. But just as you’re about to take a step forward, something stops you - a sensation you don’t recognize. The feeling trickles down your neck, plants itself deep into your chest as if it’d sunk straight through your skin - icy and dark and making you shudder as you wrap your arms around yourself for warmth.

After one final look toward the hall, you head to bed. The feeling fades. And, for the next few days, every time you look at the east wing, it’s shut tight.

Part of you is glad for it.

Despite your best efforts, the wedding rolls closer and closer, and as a horrible result, you get hardly any time to yourself. You’re escorted around, forced into fittings and rehearsals and who knows what else. The prince still never shows, but the queen is absolutely everywhere. She floats from room to room, dark circles under her eyes as she approves or denies things entry. She glances at you when she notices you, then shakes her head. 

“I’d be the happiest woman in the world if I never had to plan a wedding again,” she says. 

You resist the urge to point out that she was the one who’d wanted this.

On the day of, you’re ripped out of bed at a miserable hour, scrubbed clean, slathered in creams and fragrances, forced into yet another torturous outfit, and shoved out into the halls. People filter around you, carrying flowers and pastries and various trinkets. You stand there feeling like you can’t breathe until an arm loops around yours and starts pulling you through the crowd.

“Come,” the queen says. You don’t argue with her. She’s looking much better than before, well-rested and her cheeks rosy, porcelain skin glowing in the light. Her dress, light-blue, weightlessly flutters around her. “Given these last few weeks,” she starts, her eyes fixed in front of her. “Well. You must be curious about your husband-to-be.”

You are curious, yes. But you keep your lips shut tight. 

She shoots you a piercing look. “I expect you to be polite,” she says. “He is your prince, after all. And one day, your king.”

Only then do you realize she’s leading you straight into the east wing - but not to the door she’d shouted at before. Further down the hall, into a giant room filled with books and servants and a tailor, fussing over some clothes. A man stands in the corner, and when he turns to look at you, you stop dead in your tracks.

It’s him. The one you’d seen that night, covered in blood. His eyes widen when he sees you, and all you can do is stare at him like a fool. You don't know how you hadn’t put that together - the mysterious prince, never showing his face, and the stranger in the woods, covered in blood. But then…

The way you’d seen him then is the complete opposite of everything he is now. The opposite of everything in this place, every spotless, perfect little thing that makes you feel so wrong being here. He’d been dirty, clothes simple and torn, hair mussed and covered in leaves. Here, he’s clean, dressed in extravagant clothes, so pristine and put together that not an inch of him looks out of place. 

Of course you hadn’t considered it. Just like you, he hadn’t seemed like he belonged here. But you were wrong. He fits in the same as everyone else. 

His eyes, as it turns out, are a dark, gleaming red.

“Astarion,” the queen says, letting go of your arm and stepping away. “I trust you remember your manners?”

His gaze doesn’t leave your face, even for a moment. “But of course,” he says, his tone sultry and smooth. He steps closer, taking your hand in his, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he presses a kiss to the skin. Your stomach flutters at the action even though you should know better. 

His touch is ice-cold. 

In his eyes, you see exactly what you are: a threat. Maybe he’ll kill you after all. Then again - he can’t. They need you alive. That’s why they’re doing all of this in the first place. 

“Prince Astarion,” you greet. That touch has put some danger into you, a spark that won’t settle in your veins. You can’t help yourself, can’t hold your tongue. “It’s nice to see you again,” you find yourself saying. “I hope you’ve recovered from the incident in the gardens?”

For the barest moment, his eyes narrow. But just as quickly as his distaste is there, it’s gone, tucked under a pasted-on smile. “Why yes, I have,” he says, tilting his head. “Healthy and clean as ever.” He takes another step toward you, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he leans in close, so near that you can feel his breath on your cheek. 

“Not another word,” he murmurs, his voice dark and low. He smells clean and herbal - you catch notes of bergamot and rosemary, enticing and dizzying. A light hint of something else: wine, perhaps. He’s stepped away before you can fully place it.

“I didn’t realize you’d met,” the queen says, her eyes flickering between you and Astarion. 

“It was rather brief,” he answers. 

She looks like she’s about to ask something else, but a loud crash from the main hall distracts her. “Shit,” she curses, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’d better go see what that was.” Then she turns her gaze to you, nodding for you to join her. “Come along, now. It’ll be starting soon.”

You look back at Astarion. “Well, then. Goodbye, Your Majesty,” you tell him. “I suppose I’ll see you soon.”

The corner of his mouth flicks into a smile. “That you will,” he replies.

Everything else turns into a blur. 

You’re rushed from place to place, forced to recite the stupid vows over and over again until they’re convinced you’ve got them down, preened over and prodded until you’re raw. Your feet start to ache along with your head, and all you can think about is wanting to be home and… well, as much as you hate to admit it, you think about Astarion. He might as well be a plague for how much he’s infected your thoughts. 

You think of him, covered in blood, then spotlessly clean. You think of his voice, low in your ear, and his touch, and the smell of him that still lingers somewhere on your skin. Had he planned this, somehow? A ruse to get into your head? No. You’re being ridiculous. He hadn’t known you were the one who’d seen him - of course he hadn’t planned it.

If only it had been anyone else.

“Quick!” someone says. “It’s starting!”

Your heart drops straight down to your stomach as the drone of an organ hits the air. Nearby hands scrabble around for various items, clawing like animals. A stranger grabs your arm and drags you around like a doll, throwing instructions at you.

And just like that, you find yourself in front of the prince again. 

This time, instead of a dozen people or so, there are hundreds of people in the room. You needn’t have worried about being here with him. Nothing has ever felt less intimate. 

Your vows are rehearsed and devoid of any emotion, even though you really are trying. His are more convincing, perhaps, but they’re coached all the same. Still, when he takes your hand and slides on the ring, your stomach flutters. You slide his ring on with shaking fingers and just like that - you’re married.

“You may kiss,” the priest says, and your soul instantly exits your body. Gods, this can’t be real. None of this. 

But it is. Astarion leans in, his hand settling on your cheek, and kisses you. 

It’s clearly meant to be a quick, chaste kiss, but his lips are soft, and he smells so very nice, and the chill of his touch on your cheek is both soothing and strangely intoxicating. It’s as instinctive as breathing when the kiss deepens, when you find your fingers fisted into his shirt and his hand curls a little tighter around your jaw.

That is to say, the kiss is neither quick nor chaste, and when you pull away, there’s no small amount of cheering from the crowd. You want to melt into the floor.

When you finally muster up the ability to look at him again, Astarion tilts his head and raises his brows - a question you don’t at all want to decipher. You simply shake your head in response.

He loops his arm through yours, takes you down into the crowds, and escorts you through the room, effortlessly witty, devilishly charming. You don’t know how he does it. When people start talking to you, you can hardly get the words out of your mouth. You’re still half in shock, and Astarion’s presence isn’t helping.

The smell of him you couldn’t place earlier reveals itself to be brandy. 

How incredibly pretentious.

After what seems like hours of forced conversation, Astarion leads you over to the tables of food and drink, placing a glass of wine in your hand that you gratefully start to gulp down.

He sips at his wine, pasting on a smile when people wave at him, then turns his gaze to you. “You know, darling,” he murmurs, quirking a brow, “it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort.”

You grip your wine tighter, shooting him a scowl. “I am making an effort,” you hiss. 

He gives you another one of his false smiles. “As passionate as that kiss was, I’m afraid that doesn’t count.”

Shutting your eyes, you take in a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant. Not all of us are good at this like you are. Talking to people.”

“Well, my sweet,” he replies tightly, and for the first time, you can hear frustration lining his words. “I appreciate the compliment, but we still need to convince everyone here that we are madly in love. And that takes more than a kiss.” He takes the glass from your hands - much to your dismay - and places it on a servant’s tray, interlocking his arm with yours again. “So try a bit harder, won’t you?”

Gods, you can’t stand him.

When you go back to speaking, you try your best to be charismatic - but only because you can feel Erelin’s eyes on you, and you don’t dare upset her. Not that your best efforts make you succeed, unfortunately. Astarion has to swoop in several times to save you from the awkward turn of things.

When you finally get another moment to breathe, he guides you to a silent corner, puts an arm around you, and leans in close. “For the love of the gods,” he says. “You’re driving us both into the dirt with your horrid conversational skills.” He inhales deeply and sighs, collecting himself for a moment. “How about this - I will take on the heavier conversations, and you can just… pay compliments.”

“Pay compliments?” you ask incredulously, taking care not to be too loud. “How in the hells am I supposed to do that? I don’t know any of these people!”

“Oh, it’s easy,” he says, waving his free hand dismissively. “Tell the women you like the dress they’re wearing, or their necklace, or… I don’t know - their perfume. They’ll go on about it for ages, and you won’t have to do anything but smile and nod.”

This sounds much too easy to be true. “You’re sure that it’ll work?” 

“Trust me,” he replies. “The more we keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, the better off we’ll be.”

Anger flares in your chest at his words, red-hot. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?” you ask.

“That I am,” he says, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

Anywhere else, you’d have elbowed him in the stomach. Hard. Unfortunately, you’re in front of hundreds of people, and it would lead to a large number of very awkward conversations. So, instead, you paste on a smile and think of home.

You aren’t in a palace. You’re in your tavern, talking to customers. This is easy, and you definitely don’t hate it. At all. 

When the next couple approaches you, Astarion takes the lead, and you smile wordlessly and nod. When a null in the conversation arrives, you tell the woman you like her dress. Which, luckily, you do. It’s masterfully made, gold embroidery along a shimmering turquoise fabric.

Her face lights up. “Isn’t it just gorgeous?” she asks. “I searched for days when I heard about the wedding. Only the best for me, I always say. Anyway, there was this girl who ran a shop I went to - Martha, her name was - and she told me she had just the thing. And I tried it on, and it was perfect, only, well… it didn’t quite fit. But I knew I’d never want anything else now that I’d seen it, and I thought to myself, oh gods, I can’t turn up like this to the wedding! So I told my mum about it, and she said, ‘Don’t you worry! I’ll take care of it!’ And then, when I went to get it, clumsy me, I spilled half a glass of wine on it! I was just thinking it was lost forever when my neighbor came, and…”

And… what her neighbor did, you’ll never know. It’s completely lost to you, because when you look over to Astarion, he looks ridiculously smug. You can practically hear his voice in your head, saying ‘I told you so.’ You resist the urge to elbow him once again and turn your attention back to the girl, who is just now finishing her story.

“...and then, we arrived here, and saw you! And the wedding! My gods, what a sight. You two really do suit each other, you know. But Thom and I really should be going. There’s a lot of people for you to meet, and we wouldn’t want to keep you from tonight, if you know what I mean.”

She winks at you, and your cheeks go as hot as Avernus. 

“Well,” Astarion says quickly, “thank you both for coming!”

“Oh, of course,” she replies. “Enjoy yourselves, you two!” She gives a sly grin and then she’s off, leaving you feeling like you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.

Tonight. How could you forget?

It isn’t that you hadn’t thought about the fact that sex would be expected of you - it’s just that… well, it’d seemed so far away before. Back when you’d been thinking about it, you hadn’t known who it would be with, and it had all seemed like it was going to be a dream. Something that would never actually happen.

But here you are. 

You can’t say Astarion isn’t handsome, because he very much is. You can’t say you aren’t terribly attracted to him, because, infuriatingly, you are - no matter how much you hate the fact. But whether or not you’re comfortable with him touching you that way is a completely different matter, and, honestly? You have absolutely no clue how you’re going to tell him that you’ve never been with anyone. Or how he’ll handle it. 

Gods help you.

“You see?” Astarion tells you, slowly walking you over to the next group. “I told you it would work. Just keep that up, and all of this will soon be over.”

And over it soon is, much quicker than you’d like. You’d stay out chatting all night if you could avoid what comes next, but there aren’t many others to greet, and eventually there’s no one left to talk to. There’s hardly any food remaining either, which makes you want to cry. You’re starving. Your feet hurt. You want to crawl into bed and sleep for an eternity. 

Astarion, as if he can read your mind, finally leads you out of the room and heads straight to the kitchens, releasing your arm when you arrive. “Here we are,” he says. “We wouldn’t want you going to bed hungry, now would we?”

You try not to think about the implications of that statement as you eat. You try not to think about the way he leans against the wall next to you, seemingly not interested in the food. In fact, you try not to think about anything at all. 

It doesn’t work.

The food is a welcome distraction, at least. That’s one good thing about this place. The gardens are nice, the beds are soft, and the food is delicious. You never have to go to sleep without eating, which is a new feeling. You just wish it didn’t all come with a cost.

When you’re finished up, Astarion raises a brow at you and straightens up. “Well,” he says, “we’d better go find my mother.”

Erelin looks exhausted after the celebrations. She doesn’t bother with any formalities, just nods for you to follow. 

“I’ll show you to your new room,” she sighs. “Don’t forget - tomorrow, the two of you are off for the honeymoon. I’m trusting you both to keep up appearances, yes?” She gives you a pointed look. 

“Right,” you reply.

She sighs again. “This way.”

She leads you back into the east wing, this time to a large room around the corner - one you haven’t seen before. It’s gigantic. You’d thought your bed was huge when you arrived, but this? It practically takes up half the room. Bookshelves line the walls, the windows glisten in the moonlight, and there’s a large vanity in the corner, presumably for you. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Erelin says, leaning against the doorway. “Just remember: you’ve done a great service for this kingdom.”

The door closes, and for the first time today, you and Astarion are completely alone. There are no servants, no guards posted along the walls, no crowds of adoring citizens. Just you, and him. And you have no idea what comes next.

In truth, all you want to do is to jump into the huge, fluffy-looking bed and sleep. But, of course, it isn’t that simple. For one, your clothes are intricately laced. There’s a privacy curtain in the corner, but you can’t remove the lacing by yourself. Then there’s the matter of what’s expected of you. What you’re dreading. And that’ll have to come before sleep, too.

Astarion isn’t exactly paying attention to you, though. He’s mulling around the room, examining the books, looking over the vanity. You’re relieved, but you know it won’t last. And, honestly? If it comes down to it, you’d rather just get it over with.

“Would you mind giving me a hand with this?” you ask.

He finally looks at you, gaze focusing on the lacing you’re helplessly trying to undo. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says. 

By the hells, he’s irritating. Still, he comes over to help you without complaint, deftly pulling apart the lacing until the ribbons finally come free. You’re expecting him to go further - to start undressing you, or touching you, or… anything, but he just steps away. 

“There you are,” he says.

Your throat goes thick. “I… Thank you,” you say softly.

He hums in response. “I’d make for a poor husband if I didn’t help undress you, wouldn’t I?”

The word husband sends electricity through your veins. He really is your husband, isn’t he? It feels incredibly strange. 

When you turn to scowl at him, Astarion is already gone, returned to his place by the books. You suck in a deep breath to compose yourself, then grab the change of clothes they’ve left for you and slip into it, folding up your old outfit as neatly as you can. 

As soon as you take a seat on the bed, your heart starts beating thickly against your ribs. It’s an unsteady pattern, the thump of it. It gets faster when Astarion moves, then goes quiet when he simply grabs his sleep clothes and changes behind the curtain. It drums hard and rough when he emerges, but settles down when he crosses over to his side of the bed and blows out the candle.

The room goes pitch dark.

“You’d better get your rest while you can,” he tells you. “I’m sure they’ll wake us at a horrendous hour tomorrow.”

You stay motionless in the dark for a moment or two before what he’s saying hits you. As if his words have broken a dam inside you, all the tension floods out of your body. You climb into the sheets, weightless in sheer relief, and find the bed incredibly soft. You can hear him tucking himself into the space near you, shifting around to get comfortable, and it’s strangely intimate. Still, with the size of the bed, there’s not much danger of accidentally kicking him in the night.

The room is peaceful and the crickets chirp outside, and it doesn’t take long before your eyelids are closing and the pull of sleep comes. Just as you’re drifting off, you realize one thing: 

You’d forgotten to ask him about the blood.

[pasukiyo]

SWINGS AND MISSES

mlb player!steve harrington x f!reader word count: 6288 words warnings: angst and smut notes: i don't know if i made it super clear in the story but steve plays for the phillies in this au summary: with steve's record-breaking walk-off home run, it should've been an extraordinary night. but steve's wife can't help her longing for hawkins, and when she hears from one of his teammates a rumor that steve may have received an offer from a team even farther away from home, she finally meets her breaking point.

AUGUST, 1994;

“I’ve never seen a home run in real life before! It was incredible!”

 Steve’s lips curled into a smile as he held the baseball close to his stomach with his left hand, a marker in his right, printing his signature on the ball. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make a good first impression, bud,” he chuckled, leaning further into the wall separating the stands from the field to hand the ball back over before taking another from the other young boy beside him. 

 “Yeah. The announcer even said it broke a record! That was such a cool way to end the game,” the boy said as Steve handed him his newly autographed ball, capping the marker and stuffing it in the back pocket of his baseball pants. “I’ve never seen a homer hit that far! And it was a walk-off!”

 “Yeah, I think it even went out of the park!” The other younger boy exclaimed and Steve laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wanna hit like you one day!”

 “Yeah, how do we learn to hit like you?”

 Steve laughed again at the rapid fire questions, uncrossing his arms to lift his baseball cap off his head and run his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair. “It’s all about the effort you put into the game. It’s all pointless if you don’t take the time to practice, right?” he replied, glancing away when out of the corner of his eye, he could make out a figure making its way down the stairs, heading in their direction.

 A very familiar figure. 

 “Yeah! I practice all the time!” One of the younger boys responded, a wide grin on his face. “Sometimes, my mom brings her video camera to record me at batting practice. I love going to the cages!”

 Steve was trying his best to keep his attention focused on the two children in front of him, he really was, but how could he possibly focus on anything else when his wife was coming his way looking like that? His muscles ached with fatigue and his stomach growled, and all he really wanted was to get some food in his system, clean himself up, and maybe even make a little love to his wife before getting a good night’s sleep. The closer she got, the harder he found it to maintain his patience. 

 The young boys in front of him continued to babble on about the practice they do outside of games as Steve’s wife approached in one of his jerseys— which was a few sizes too big for her— tucked into denim shorts, a Phillies baseball cap fit snug to her head. Steve’s grin widened as she approached and he gave her upper arm a squeeze before turning back to the children. 

 “I really hate to have to go but I’m sure your parents would hate me if I kept you boys up too late anyways,” Steve chuckled, raising a hand to the crown of his head to give the boys a little salute as he helped his wife climb over the wall and step onto the field. “Keep practicing!” He called over his shoulder as he threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders, giving her arm a squeeze. “And respect your parents!”

 Her face pulled into a smile and her chest heaved with a laugh as she glanced up at him, scrunching her face when he met her gaze. “Look at you being so good with kids,” she giggled, lacing her fingers together with the ones dangling from her shoulders. “Almost like we’re back in Hawkins.”

 Steve rolled his eyes at this comment, pulling her in closer so that he could press a kiss against her temple as he led them towards the dugout where only a few of his fellow teammates remained. “At least these kids don’t drive me up the fuckin’ wall,” he snorted. “You know Henderson called the other day just to make fun of the way I run bases?”

 She tried to suppress her laugh as he pulled away from her to gather his equipment and he turned to cock an eyebrow at her as he snatched his helmet, tossing his batting gloves and fielding glove inside it when she let a giggle slip through the cracks of her lips. “What?” He watched as she crossed an arm over her chest and propped her opposite elbow against it, hiding her smile behind her knuckles. She shook her head, “nothing, nothing.”

 Steve pressed his lips together in a pout and stood back up, a hand on his hip. “You think the way I run bases is funny too, don’t you?” He used his helmet to gesture over to where she stood, scoffing in disbelief when she broke into laughter, trying her best to hide it behind her hand. “I can’t believe you.”

 One of his teammates strolled up, reaching past Steve to grab his bat, using his other hand to clasp his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better buddy, we all think you run bases funny,” he spoke with a grin and she erupted in laughter again as Steve used his glove to smack him against his shoulder. 

 “Oh, fuck off Kev,” he grumbled as he plopped down on the bench, prying his cleats off his feet. She giggled as she shuffled between his legs, cupping his face and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s okay, babe. On the bright side, your ass still looks ridiculously good in those pants,” she tittered and he rolled his eyes, playfully pushing her face away as he slipped on his slides. 

 “Whatever. You can talk to me once you’ve stopped taking Henderson’s side,” Steve rolled his eyes as he gathered the rest of his things and she followed him down the steps leading into the locker room, her hands in her back pockets. She gazed down at her feet, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating what she said next. 

 “You know… kinda miss that kid,” she said softly and Steve furrowed a brow, peeking at her from over his shoulder. “Are we talking about the same Henderson right now?” He asked and she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s just… you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve seen him. And everybody. And… Hawkins…”

 “We went back for Christmas, remember?” She pressed her lips together and felt her face fell, wrapping her arms around herself, shrugging. “Yeah, I know but I mean… it was just an overnight trip and that was months ago…” She trailed off, stopping in her tracks when Steve’s name permeated the corridor and she turned to face the source of the voice. 

 “Coach,” Steve acknowledged the Head Coach of the Phillies, taking the older man’s hand when he outstretched it for him to shake. “The man of the hour!” Coach exclaimed before glancing behind Steve where she stood, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Always good to see you, Mrs. Harrington,” he greeted and she nodded back, a shy smile on her face as she weakly waved. “You wouldn’t mind if I stole your husband for a quick minute, would you?”

 Steve blinked back at her, a slight furrow still in his brow but she waved him off anyway. “As long as you promise to bring him back,” her laugh came out as more of a breath, but the coach chuckled anyway, leading Steve away towards his office. She stood alone in the empty hallway leading to the Phillies locker room, arms wrapped around herself, her heart pounding and mind racing. 

 She wasn’t sure what she was hoping would come out of confessing to Steve how homesick she felt. It wasn’t his fault they hardly ever had the time to visit— Major League Baseball was his career, traveling and moving one place to another was just part of it. 

 But still, she couldn’t resist the yearn she felt for something more… stable. For a place she could call home, for a place she could stay. Hawkins was home to her— it always, always was. Even after all the strange things she and Steve had experienced in the small town in Indiana, she still felt connected to the place, still had threads tying her down in its roots. It was where she grew up, where she had friends, where she had family. 

 But she wasn’t sure how Steve would feel about that. 

 “Harrington leave you all alone?”

 She turned to the source of the voice and there stood Matt, one of Steve’s teammates, big and burly as ever with his arms crossed and his baseball bag hanging from one of his shoulders. She forced a smile, “Coach needed to see him in his office. Maybe he’s in trouble.”

 Matt rolled his eyes at this, “yeah right, like Star Boy is gonna get in trouble,” he scoffed. “You know, rumor has it Boston’s interested in him.”

 She blinked. “Boston?” Steve had never mentioned this to her before, of course she knew his contract with the Phillies was about to expire, but surely he would’ve told her if he’d gotten any other calls? Was he keeping this from her?

 Matt lifted his baseball cap to scratch at his scalp, his brow furrowed, lips turned in confusion. “You didn’t know?” He asked, and she shook her head. “No… No, I didn’t.”

 As if her mind wasn’t already racing before, it was practically a typhoon now. Surely this was all a misunderstanding? Perhaps he was in the Head Coach’s office right now working out a new deal to renew his contract, maybe there was nothing to worry about after all. Because Steve would’ve told her about something like this, right?

 “Anyway, surely you have nothing to worry about,” Matt tittered as he sauntered past. “No matter where he ends up, he’ll be making a shit ton of more money than I’ll ever make in a lifetime, so what the hell do I care where he goes?”

 She blinked as Matt said his goodbyes and disappeared into the locker room, once again leaving her alone to her thoughts. It wasn’t long after that Steve finally reemerged from the Coach’s office, laughing at whatever had been said moments before. The sound of the door closing echoed through the hallway and Steve turned back to face her where she stood, gesturing with his head to the locker room. 

 “I’m gonna go get changed, be back in a minute,” he said, turning around before she had the chance to even open her mouth, disappearing inside the locker room. And the whole time she stood in that empty hallway alone, all she could think of was Boston and how much further away from home— Hawkins— it was. 

 She told him when he got drafted in the major leagues that she’d follow him anywhere he went— and she still stood by that. But was it so wrong for her to long for home, to miss her family, her friends? Was it so wrong to just wish for a week, even a weekend to go back and visit her loved ones? 

 And why was she so nervous to ask Steve about it?

 Steve had never been too fond of Hawkins. Perhaps, years of dealing with alternate reality monsters and scary Russian men will do that for you. But she knew Steve loathed Hawkins for another reason— his parents. His parents that were never there, his parents that never cared to show up to a high school basketball game, baseball games, even his own graduation. His parents that never even bothered to be there, who always had something better to do than be at home with their son. 

 Hawkins was where he grew up, Hawkins was a constant reminder of how unwanted he used to be. So of course he’d gotten out of there the first chance he got, of course he’d brush her off every time she wanted to go back, of course their time to visit was reduced down to a simple overnight stay over Christmas. 

 Hawkins would never be home to Steve Harrington, and sometimes she feared he failed to acknowledge that it was quite the opposite for her. 

 “Ready to go?” His voice broke her thoughts and she blinked up at him, now wearing sweats and a plain white tee, his hair messy and unkempt atop his head. He spun the keys to his old BMW around his pinky finger, pinching his lip between his teeth as he approached, using his free arm to sling around her shoulders. “Everything okay?” He asked, giving her a fleeting squeeze and pressing a kiss to her hair. 

 She wanted nothing more than to question him, ask him what the quick little meeting with his coach was about, ask him what she was hearing about being traded to the Red Sox, whether or not he’d been hiding it from her, and if he was considering taking them up on whatever they offered him. But not here— it could wait for the car. 

 “Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, letting him lead her towards the exit. The night air in Philadelphia had a bit of a chill and she shivered when Steve opened the door leading to the players’ parking lot, the old BMW he’s had since high school waiting for them beneath the lamppost light. She clutched the strap of her purse as they made their way towards the car, worrying her lip between her teeth.

 Steve glanced up at her over the top of his car as she circled around to the passenger’s side, swinging open the door and slipping inside. He watched as she buckled in her seat belt while he turned the keys in the ignition, her fingers dropping in her lap as she stared out the window. 

 “You sure everything’s okay?” He asked again, reaching over to brush his fingers against her knuckles. She turned to face him, face void of expression as their eyes surged into one another. Something was wrong, Steve could feel it. 

 “What was all that about?” She questioned. “You know, with your coach and all that.” Steve pulled his fingers away and leaned back into his seat, searching the steering wheel as he tried to string together what to say next. She watched as he scratched at his chin, outstretching his palm, “he wanted to discuss my contract,” he replied. “Since it’s expiring soon.”

 She nodded, pressing her lips together in an attempt to still her beating heart. Steve rolled his tongue against his cheek, unsure of what to say next, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, she drew in a shaky breath, gazing out the windshield. “I heard from Matt that Boston is interested in you.”

 Steve blinked, his lips pressed in a firm, thin line as he grew silent, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and turning the keys in the ignition with the other. The car roared to life and Steve said nothing as he turned to gaze out the back windshield to pull out of his parking space. Silence was thick in the air as he drove out of the parking lot, a lump forming in her throat and the tension was hot, a heavy weight on either of their chests. 

 “Why are you not talking to me?” She finally asked, glancing over to where he sat, jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping it. “Why didn’t you tell me about Boston?” She questioned, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Steve ran a hand through his hair, “the call only came in a few days ago.”

 Her stomach flipped at the admission and she turned, brow furrowed in disbelief. “You got the call a few days ago and didn’t think to tell me about it?” It was hard to hide her agitation now. “What happened to… to talking to each other, Steve? Don’t you think I would’ve liked to have known about something like this?”

 Steve tapped the pad of his thumb against the top of the steering wheel, propping his other arm against the window, cupping his chin in his palm. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he replied. “I know how much you hate traveling and I didn’t know how to bring it up and—“

 “Steve, I… don’t hate traveling,” she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest, scoffing as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “I told you early on that I have no issue following you anywhere you go, and I still stand by that. What I have an issue with is you, number one: not telling me any of this crap and number two: brushing me off when I tell you that I want to go home. Why can’t we go somewhere for me for once? You have off days, but we spend them doing what you want, never what I want.” Her words were pouring out of her but at this point, she couldn’t make them stop. 

 Months upon months of her frustrations that had been pushed to the side to rest were now forcing their way to the frontlines, and she realized now that she wanted to be heard. She didn’t want to be pushed to the sidelines anymore, she didn’t want to keep everything to herself anymore, she just wanted to be seen. She wanted everything she’d spent energy burying to be recognized, she wanted Steve to acknowledge her. 

 “Can we… not do this tonight?” Steve said at last, wiping his brow in vexation and gripping the steering wheel with a two hand feel. “I’m tired, you’re tired, so can we please just chill out and talk about this in the morning?” She gnawed at the flesh of the inside of his cheek, “no, Steve,” she spoke firmly, her tone as stern as it could get to let him know that she wouldn’t be cowering away this time. “I’m not tired. Don’t tell me to chill out whenever you don’t feel like listening. I’m not going to let you push me to the side this time,” she said just as the car rolled to a halt in front of a stoplight. 

 “I’m not pushing you to the side!” His voice has raised this time, but still, she had no intention of backing down. “Honestly, you’re sounding so selfish right now,” he muttered, shaking his head and gazing out the window to his side, keen on looking anywhere but at her.

 She blinked, clearly taken aback. “I’m being the selfish one?” She scoffed, pointing a finger to her chest. “You won’t even listen to me. You won’t even talk to me.” Steve didn’t reply as the light turned green, making it clear he didn’t want to argue any further, only adding more coal to her fire.

 She dropped her head, feeling the bitter sting of tears in her eyes that she desperately tried to lock away, sinking her teeth further into the plush of her lip to help keep them from falling. Feeling unheard was probably the worst feeling she’d ever felt in the world, it felt as if she were drowning, meters below the ocean, her screams falling onto deaf ears. All she could see for miles was darkness and she was falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of black. 

 Steve was usually her lifeline but now, he was further and further away, and she was sinking deeper and deeper…

 “So what is it then?” She said at last, turning her head to glimpse over to where he sat, her voice cutting through her throat like a knife. “We’re just gonna move to Boston— which is even further away from Hawkins, by the way— and everything will just be okay? We’re just gonna forget about our friends and family and throw away everything I want to do just so I can be King Steve’s good, obedient little wife?” She hissed, and Steve turned to face her now as he pulled into the parking lot of their luxury apartment building, eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

 “We spend all your off days doing whatever the hell you want, why can’t we take a weekend or something to go back home and see everyone?” She pressed further. “I miss them. I miss Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Max, El, Robin— Robin’s your fucking best friend and you’ve only seen her once in the past year. You can’t even stay on the phone with her for more than ten minutes now.”

 “Because I’m fucking busy trying to give us a future!” Steve practically roared, his voice like a crack of thunder, even making her tremble where she sat. She recoiled and pressed her lips together, blinking. “I’ve been working almost every single fucking day to provide for us, to provide for you. You tell me you understand that this is my career, that traveling and press conferences and practices and brand deals and all that other shit is just a part of it. But then you sit here and bitch at me for it, complaining that I’m not listening, that I’m being selfish when all I fucking do everyday is work so you can be comfortable!” 

 Her vision glossed over with the haze of tears again and she blinked, sniffing. “You’re missing the point, Steve. I never asked for you to give up your career. I never asked for you to take time off for me. I asked you to hear me. I asked that we use the time that you’re off to go back home,” she replied softly, her tone void of the firmness she held before. Steve didn’t dare look at her, eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead through the windshield, hands still tight around the steering wheel. 

 “Then what the hell’s stopping you from just leaving?” He asked, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, and she blinked, sure that tears were falling now. “So that’s your answer?” She grimaced at her own voice, watery and threatening to break. “You’re just going to push me away? Tell me to leave?”

 Steve closed his eyes, his chest heaving with a sigh as he leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the headrest. A moment of silence dangled between the two, neither seeming to know how to break it. One hand dropped to his lap and the other rose to his forehead, the bridge of his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her wet and sticky cheeks, pressing her lips together as she shook her head, gazing at the parking lot outside the window. The city was alive and noisy at this time of night, its light polluting the night sky and ceiling away the stars. 

 This wasn’t what she had grown up to know. Even still, the city was still foreign to her. She missed the quiet of a small town, missed looking up at the night sky and seeing the stars twinkling down at her. She just missed home. 

 But what was Hawkins without Steve in it too?

 “I don’t…” Steve began, blinking up at the ceiling of his car. “…I don’t know what to do.”

 She glanced over at him, her arms crossed over her stomach, her fingernails scratching lines into her skin. She looked at Steve now and saw someone she hadn’t seen in awhile, not since they lived in Hawkins. 

 Steve looked lost. 

 “I don’t know what the right thing to do is anymore,” he breathed a laugh at himself, flattening his palm against his eyes and shaking his head again. “I just feel like I’m letting you down no matter what I do.”

 She furrowed her brows together and turned in her seat until her back was against the door, her left leg bent and leaning against the back of her seat. “Steve, you’re not… you’re not letting me down,” she replied in a soft murmur. “But it hurts me when you don’t listen to me. I never try to push you too hard or stop you from doing what you love to do,” her lips curved into a small smile. “And it makes me so happy to watch you play baseball. Because you just look so… peaceful. You look happy. Even if you do look funny running the bases.”

 Steve snorted at this, turning his head to the side to face her. “For awhile there, you weren’t happy,” she could feel her voice begin to crack, more tears glossing her vision, her voice thick with emotion. “I know you weren’t happy back in Hawkins,” she continued. “Just like you know I used to not be happy back then either.”

 Steve sniffed, his eyes dropping to her fingers where they rested in her lap, and he watched as she leaned closer towards him, her fingers finding his. He shuddered when their skin met, already melting into her touch, squeezing her fingers tighter when they laced together with his. His molars sunk down into the flesh of the inside of his cheek, trying to maintain his own composure. 

 “But Hawkins is home to me,” she murmured. “Hawkins is where our story began. It’s where we both grew up, it’s where we found each other. And I’ll always be grateful to Hawkins for that.”

 Steve let his fleeting gaze linger on their hands for a moment before her other hand pushed against his chin, leading his eyes back home, back to her. “Even with everything we went through there, we made so many memories,” she chuckled. “Like the first time you took me on a date and you pulled up to my house and my dad…”

 Steve’s lips curved into a smile and parted in a laugh, “he grilled me.” She laughed along, nodding. “I still remember how nervous you were to even hold hands with me, like my dad was waiting around the corner or something.”

 “He can be really intimidating.”

 “No shit,” she chuckled, leaning the side of her head into the passenger seat’s headrest. “And I remember our first kiss…” 

 Steve let the pad of his thumb soothe over the smooth skin on the back of her hand as he recalled the memory, the image of her standing in front of him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes he fell in love with, wearing that ridiculously pretty baby blue dress he still secretly wished she would wear more often. He could remember how nervous he was, how he felt like his heart was going to either burst out of his chest or he was going to shit it out. He remembered wondering how a girl so perfect could ever want to be with him, how insecure he felt about himself, whether or not he was a shitty boyfriend. 

 All of it melted away when she fluttered her eyes closed and began to lean in and he, too, began to fall in closer…

 “Yeah,” Steve sighed his reply, and she smiled warmly. “So you see now why I want to go back so bad?” She asked. “Hawkins was where our story started. Hawkins will always be home to me.”

 Steve drew in a deep breath and nodded, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah,” he said. “But I still don’t know what to do about Boston.”

 She glanced down to their joined hands, her free hand soothing up and down his arm. When she looked back up, Steve’s face was contorted in thought, eyebrows knit together, eyes unfocused and lips pressed together. She gave his hand a squeeze, “do you want to go to Boston?”

 He blinked and peered over at her where she sat, waiting for a reply. Her face was void of all frustration from before, expression warm, inviting. How could he have ever taken her for granted?

 Steve gave a short nod, “I think so.” 

 Her lips grew into a grin, “then we’re going to Boston.”

 Steve’s face softened but a wrinkle in his brow still remained. “And you’re… okay with that?” He asked, and she nodded. “As long as we can do things I want too. I just want to dedicate some off time to going back home. I want to see everybody. I miss all our friends. I miss my dad.”

 Steve nodded, giving her hand a squeeze, “okay.”

 She nodded back and pushed herself from her sitting position, leaning over the console until their faces were close, their lips a whisper away from one another. “Okay,” she whispered against his lips and Steve gazed up at her, his deep, brown irises melting into hers. His gaze fleeted down to her lips as he reached a hand around to cup the back of her head, pulling her mouth down onto his. 

 His lips were soft and she melted into them as if they were a pillow. Steve kissed her with an urgent, tender need, like his tongue was telling her a million sorrys he couldn’t relay in words. She moaned into his mouth when he squeezed her hip with the hand not tangled in her hair and she climbed her way over the console and onto his lap, her hands on either of his cheeks, the firestorm on her skin erupting into a volcano, hot magma pouring over her and pooling onto him. 

 His kisses trailed down her chin to the underside of her jaw, her fingers inching their way to his hair, giving the roots a tug when he sucked a mark there. Her lips fell apart in a gasp at the feeling of his teeth ghosting over her flesh, teasing a bite on the sensitive part of her neck. “Steve,” she mewled as his hands felt up her waist, to her stomach, and around to the buttons of her jersey. 

 “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured against her lips when his kisses found their way back to her mouth, his fingers working at the buttons of her jersey. “I’m an asshole,” he mumbled as he pushed her now fully opened shirt down her arms, his mouth hot when they found her one of her erect nipples and she threw her head back, squeezing the roots of his tendrils tighter. 

 “Mm mm,” she shook her head as he swirled his tongue around her peaked bud, staring up at her through a hooded gaze as he sucked. “You’re… not!” She arched her back and moaned when he released her breast with a pop, trailing kisses between the valley of her tits to ravage the other. “Not an… asshole.”

 His smile was a crescent against her skin as he worked at the other and she pressed her lips together in a whimper, feeling heat pool between her legs, her core clenching when she ground her hips down into his erection. “Stevie,” she panted when he released her breast, kissing her collarbone until he could make out dark marks in her skin. “Hmm?” He hummed against her flesh, glancing up at her. 

 She ground her hips down into him once again, causing him to groan and buck his own up into her. She gasped at this, feeling tears sting her eyes before streaming down her cheeks. “I just… I just wanna feel you,” she managed to breathe out, her teeth pinching her bottom lip hard enough that she nearly drew blood. “Just want you inside me.”

 Steve probably could’ve come from just her voice alone. His cock was aching and throbbing in his sweats and he tapped the underside of her thighs to tell her to sit up. She mewled as she rose off his lap, allowing them both to strip themselves from their pants and underwear. 

 Their eyes surged into one another as Steve’s middle and pointer finger traced a line down her center, his palm flush with her clit, her lids fluttering closed and a cry erupting from her throat and permeating the small space of his car. “You’re dripping for me, baby,” Steve purred, using his other hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, the pad of his thumb soothing over her closed eyelids. “You always get so wet for me,” he praised, drawing her face closer to his to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. “You’re always such a good girl for me. Always make me so proud.”

 “Stevie,” she mewled, voice dripping with need from his words. His fingers still worked back and forth over her slit, the tips teasing her clit and every so often, her entrance. “Yeah baby?” He cooed, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against the underside of her jaw. She whimpered again, “just need you inside. Please.”

 Neither of them could care any less that anyone could easily be watching them right now, all they cared about was each other. All Steve wanted to do right now was take care of his girl, to make sure she felt wanted, needed, heard. 

 So he wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the base of his cock, hissing between his teeth at the sight of her cunt just dripping, aching to be filled. He gazed back up at her and reached for her face, cupping her cheek with one hand and kneading the flesh of her hip with the other. “Look at me,” he whispered, waiting until her eyelids fluttered back open and he could stare into his gorgeous irises of hers. “You ready?” He asked with a little nod, and when she nodded back almost immediately, he guided her down into his lap with the hand on her hip, his lips falling agape, a deep, guttural groan bellowing from his throat. 

 She cried as he slowly pushed himself all the way in until she was fully seated in his lap, crystals of tears resting on her eyelashes. Even after all these years, she couldn’t believe how big he was, how every inch seemed to fill her up in the most perfect way, leaving no part of her untouched. 

 And Steve couldn’t believe how tight she still was. She always squeezed him in just the right way, her pussy always seeming eager to milk him, and he always seemed to be near spent even when they had just started. 

 “Ready to move?” He murmured close to her ear and she nodded, lifting her hips gently before setting her pace, either of his hands now on her waist, guiding her up and down his cock. The windows had since fogged up, the lights outside nothing more than white and orange dots, like watercolors. She managed to peel her eyes open enough to peer down at him, her lips finding his, their moans muffled against each other. 

 “I love you,” Steve purred against her mouth, his breath hot and making liquid of her insides. She felt her heart skip a beat when he said this, as if it were the first time she’d ever heard him say it. It was like this with everything with Steve. He made every touch, every kiss, every ‘I love you,’ every everything feel like the first time. 

 And that’s what she loved most about him. 

 “I…” she gasped at a particular deep thrust, rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks. “…oh God! I love you too!”

 Her palms ventured down the chest of his t-shirt until they reached the hem, tugging at it to signal that she wanted it off. Steve wasted no time in reaching down to pull it up and over his head, her hips still rocking back and forth on his cock as he discarded it somewhere behind him, his hands cupping either of her elbows and drawing her mouth back onto his. 

 She was so dangerously close to the edge, Steve was so dangerously close to the edge. It was enough to make her cry out, to wrap her arms around Steve’s head and hug him close to her chest. “Gonna… fuck! Gonna come baby?” Steve groaned as he thrusted up into her, meeting her hips in rhythm with her rocking. She nodded, unable to speak as a spark trailed down her stomach until it erupted in flame at her center, white light flashing behind her eyelids as she exploded, a blissful heat ripping through her. 

 Steve’s hands cradled the small of her back as she struggled to catch her breath, letting him pound her through her orgasm until he too let himself go, spurts of his seed spilling somewhere deep inside her, painting her cervix like it was his canvas. 

 He held her tighter as she trembled, panting and chasing air back into her lungs, aftershocks rumbling through her as he slowed his hips before pulling out altogether, making sure his hands were there to catch her before she fell. 

 His palm cracked the back of her head to his chest, their pants slowly dwindling down to soft breaths, their skin melting into each other until they became one. His thumb soothed over her shoulder blade, his other arm wrapped around her waist, ensuring neither he nor she were going anywhere. 

 “I’ve got you,” he whispered close to her ear, his breath hot as it rolled over her skin. “And I’m sorry. I promise I’ll hear you out from now on. You shouldn’t feel like you’re being silenced around me.”

 He could feel her smile against the curve of his shoulder, her lips pressing a soft kiss to his skin. His lips curled into their own smile. “Thank you,” she murmured against his flesh. “Can we just stay here like this for a minute?”

 He hummed into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Mhm,” he hummed, resting his cheek against their head and letting his eyelids flutter closed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

a/n; i have literally been wanting to write an mlb player steve au for the longest time and i just never have gotten around to it 😭 i'm not sure if any of you know this, but i used to play softball, started playing when i was 8 years old all the way up until my senior year of high school, so softball/baseball has pretty much always been a big part of my life and LAWD can you just imagine steve as a major leaguer 😍 anyways, its been awhile since i've posted anything steve related and i'm so sorry for that! but i hope you all enjoy this one! it turned out to be a lot longer than i initially expected it to lol (ps, i definitely wouldn’t mind writing more for major leaguer steve in the future 👀)

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