#arranged marriages and forbidden love chapter 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

damagdsnow · 9 months ago

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Fix my reputation

Pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look vulnerable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.

Tag: fake dating, slow burn, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play, smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praise

Chapter 1, chapter 2;

aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;

Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, mention of blood, mention of parent death, physical aggression (not detailed and not from Snow)

Word count: 11.3k

note: before reading this I recommend you to read the first chapter here. Also, thank you so much for all the love and support on chapter one I didn’t expect all of this, I love you guys ❤️

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

The first time you had met Coriolanus was when Dr. Gaul had announced he was going to be her apprentice Gamemaker during the next Hunger Games.

At that time, you got a job as a health advisor, essentially you monitored tributes' vital signs and whether they were injured, you formulated unique medicine so mentors and sponsors could help their favorites heal faster and be a step ahead of the others. You were used to stitch wounds, examining patients, making prescriptions. This was a whole new thing to you. Dr. Gaul said to you that you were one of the most qualified doctors in that department, this is the reason why she pressured you to ‘amaze’ her.

”When I read your qualifications I was shocked to learn you were looking for employment,” was the first thing Dr. Gaul said to you when she requested to meet you.

You were in her laboratory, a bright room filled with gruesome creatures, dead and alive. She was standing in front of you, with her voluminous curly hair and her reddish long tunic, while she was feeding some sorta of genetically modified fish.

“I was looking for some thrilling experience,” you started fidgeting your fingers, “making me useful for the good of Panem.”

You practiced saying these words many times before meeting her, what were you supposed to say? That you desperately needed a job? That as soon as you found another position you would quit immediately?

”Your idea to formulate a drug that would help tributes in the arena?” With a long tweezer she dropped a pink cube in the small pool, ”so original,” she smiled while feeding the fishes with more cubes.

“You know what it means right? The games will last longer, people spending money on their helpless and injured tributes, mentors fighting to get the best sponsor,” she continued, her icy eyes were staring at you, “this is going to revolutionise the games.”

“I’m glad you liked my proposal,” you looked down, wondering if it was better to make eye contact with her or watch those horrific creatures with long fangs and thorny tails.

“Liked? I absolutely adore your way of thinking,” she put the tweezer back on a metal tray. “No one was able to surprise me since–” she paused and you looked back at her, ”do you know Coriolanus Snow? You two would get along well.”

At that time you wondered who he could be. Coriolanus Snow? His name sounded familiar to you. Only when Dr. Gaul introduced him to the department as an apprentice, you recognised his face.

You both graduated from the Academy, he was just a year older than you, and during the tenth annual Hunger Games his name was popular amongst students. Even though you went to the same school, you had never talked to him. Until a couple of months before the reaping, Dr. Gaul let you and other members work in her lab to do research. Of course he was there too, and chance had it that you were paired up with Coriolanus, sharing the same desk in the library section.

You could see him sitting opposite to you, his side was impressively tidy, just a black leather notepad and a book. Your half was full of microbiology volumes, agar plates and creased post-it. Coriolanus was too focused on his writing that he never gazed over you, on the other hand you were distracted by his presence. You remembered him differently in the Academy, his hair was slightly longer than before, his facial features were more defined, but the same cold aura surrounded him.

You felt kinda intimidated by him.

You’ve heard colleagues saying how brilliant he was: he won the Plinth prize in his senior year, he graduated with honors at advanced military strategies and he now had a high position as the right hand man of the pretentious Head Gamemaker.

He intrigued you.

You thought you were not the smartest person in the room. There was something in him, probably his confident behaviour while he was writing on his notebook, as if he was superior to you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, you thought of ways to start a conversation, not a small talk, but something smart to impress him.

Your heart was beating fast and you finally figured what to say, “Mr. Snow I found a better technique for–“

“What makes you think you can talk to me?” He cut you off while still writing in his notebook.

His words stunned you. The conversation you imagined in your head was now gone, what could you say at this point? “I just wanted–” you stuttered

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”

Your admiration for him slowly faded each day. The way he corrected you every time you had a proposal, pointing out your mistakes in front of everyone, or when he made you work till night in the laboratory to perfectionate your research. You tolerated that, you were used to hard work and mean teachers in your university years, but sometimes he didn’t even show the slightest remorse on things he would say about the districts. About you, indirectly.

Every year on reaping day you thought that it could have been you. Your name in that little piece of paper, read out loud changing your destiny. If it wasn’t for your father’s role in the Dark Days, you could have been in that arena yourself, instead of having the privilege to control tributes’ lives in a cozy chair.

Your dad was an engineer, more a genius mastermind who designed and built high tech weapons. Specifically incendiary bombs, which were crucial to stop the rebels from invading the Capitol during the last year of the war. The project was so successful that he obtained an honorary medal from President Ravenstill himself. He was able to buy a place in the Capitol, for the only purpose to give you and your sister a better future, and you actually lived in luxury compared to your old life back in the districts. However, your father did not side with the president’s political view, still he had to conform to it or he would probably be considered a rebel.

He played the game, to stay alive. Until he was not part of that show anymore.

“I only did it for you and Darla, I don’t care about heavens or hell. As long as my family is safe, I regret nothing of the atrocities I’ve done,” were the words your father wrote to you in a letter, before being killed.

They had never been clear about the dynamics of his homicide, but you were sure it was not an incident as someone would say. The Capitol killed him, they took your dad away from you, the only person you admired, that never let you down.

Your blood was from the districts, even if you’ve lived all your life in the Capitol, you couldn’t change your origins. Coriolanus reminded you of that, with his despicable comments about how ‘horrible and disgusting’ the people from the districts were. As if you didn’t exist to him, you were not a person from his perspective. But he did not know that, no one knew you were not from the Capitol, it was only written on your official documents.

“The games are meant to remind us all who we truly are,” was something Coriolanus often said, bullshit you thought, for you the Games were an insult to humanity and civilisation, cruel entertainment for empty people.

Coriolanus Snow, such a brilliant mind but wicked thoughts.

At the same time, you were not better than him. You worked for the Head Gamemaker and indirectly supported the unnatural destiny of those children. It was easier blaming the government, the bad guys, than admitting to be part of the corrupted system you truly despised. Your excuse was that you had no choice, and partially it was true, but can money win over your beliefs? Were you so desperate to bend your morality just not to be jobless and not respectable? You were acting as your father: were you a fighter or survivor?

Little did you know that your worst nightmares were going to haunt you soon. After the incident you were unemployed, with a bad reputation and with a man you hated.

Check, check, check.

You woke up at lunch time for the third day in a row, it was like being a child again. But there wasn’t your mom taking care of you, your dad making your favorite dish or your big sister spoiling you with presents. You couldn’t ignore your responsibilities and let the adults do the big things for you. You were the adult now, but if you kept self destroying your life this way, it was like everything you’ve done vanished away. Giving up was not an option, or to put things clear, it was the easier possibility amongst the other challenging beginnings.

One of these included him.

Coriolanus was not a beginning, he was more like someone you bump into when you are in a rush, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there but that let you miss the train, made you change your destination. However, the end of the journey was a mystery, with him nothing was clear from the start.

The gala was proof that you couldn’t handle that world, it felt like everything you did made your situation in a much worse position. If it wasn’t for Coriolanus, you would’ve busted into tears on live tv, he was used to that world, lying so naturally that he convinced them.

Cameras, flashes, interviews. Not exactly what you have been preparing for all your life.

You didn’t want to remember what happened that night. Your mind replayed memories as if it was a film, but you were trying to stop it. The dancing? The photographers?

No, the kiss.

The thought of his hands on your skin, his hair on your hands, his lips against yours. The more you pushed that image away, the less it faded from your mind. How could you let him do something like that? You knew that letting him in again would only bring more chaos into your life, but at the same time, you needed to fix your mess and he was your solution.

Also, you didn’t want to acknowledge that all the attention was something you needed. Not the bad press, the misleading articles and intrusive photographers. It was the care for you, the way he defended you, the warmth you didn’t feel in a long time. You knew it was fake, just a facade, but that pretending was healing an empty spot you have been hiding for ages.

When you checked your mail, you recognised the reddish envelope. It was from Snow manor.

"Be ready at 7 pm, someone is going to pick you up.’ signed by Iris Davebonn.

Of course it was not over.

He had a plan, and he didn’t give up easily. You also had a plan, he was not the only one with something to prove, but was he the only way out to your hell? Or was he another villain in your tragedy? You had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

Coriolanus is the forbidden apple, the fruit I shall never be tempted to desire.

You opened the fridge, still sleepy but hungry. For your breakfast you had a couple of options: water and rotten eggs or rotten eggs and water. So as always you decided to steal from your neighbor’s tangerines tree, you could easily pick the fruits from your window, the advantages of living on the first floor. You knew that the old lady next door noticed your thefts, but she hated you either way so at least you gave her a reason to. Since you didn’t have a monthly paycheck anymore, you had to live with your remaining savings, but soon you were left with nothing with bills and rent to pay.

Actually, Dr. Gaul never fired you, she wasn’t as upset as Capitol people, she even congratulated you because this way The Hunger Games were discussed more on tv and newspapers. For her, the incident was a perfect strategy to make the Games popular. She even thought you did that intentionally, because in her distorted view,”it was funny seeing their faces when for the first time, a 12 years old boy from district eleven won”. Against all odds, the unknown tribute without sponsors and hope to make it alive, won the games because “I killed everybody else.”

Not as funny as she thought.

Eventually, you couldn't handle the pressure anymore and you quit. The last time you saw her she persuaded you to be by her side the next year, “if you did that by accident, I wonder what you could do purposely.” You never considered that offer, you didn’t have to work there in the first place. If only you could go back, maybe… Maybe, everything would’ve gone differently.

The world fell apart when you heard the sound of cannon in that room. Everybody was cheering for that girl from district two, the favorite, the one that won Capitol’s heart during the interviews. The lovely Rea, the brave tribute that was bit by an horrific dog. That creature cannot be defined as a ‘dog’, more like a venomous lion with a crocodile mouth. Your role was to make a medicine that could heal her wound. Sponsors asked it, her mentor was willing to pay whatever price to save her, the Capitol was betting every penny on her.

The pressure was such that you mistakenly switched two drugs and gave her the other for the boy from District three. Fatal mistake.

You were their only hope but you became the death of them.

Relying on somebody else was the last thing you wanted, especially if it was Coriolanus Snow. You didn’t want to need him. But there you go, on your way to his house. Again.

An avox opened the door for you and silently you followed her to the living room. Iris and Coriolanus were both standing near a star shaped glass table surrounded by small couches, you wondered what their conversation was about because they stopped talking the moment you walked in.

“Speaking of the devil,” Coriolanus said looking at you, he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, his hair was messy as if he woke up a couple of minutes ago.

”There she is,” Iris stepped towards you, opening her arms, “the new star of Panem,” she hugged you like you were an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, it didn’t feel as awkward as you thought, it felt sincere.

”I think you meant a fallen star,” you laughed hugging her back.

”Honey, the gala was a success!” She said with a warm smile.

You perceived his blue eyes gazing at you, the same look he gave you when you were walking with him arm by arm at the gala.

Why is he staring? Am I wearing something inappropriate? Or is it just the indecipherable look he always has?

“Did you read the newspaper?” Iris pointed at the glass table in front of you but you were distracted by a bowl full of pastries to even pay attention to her.

You leaned forward to read the page but your sight was too blurry. The tangerines were the only thing you ate since this morning, not really an energetic meal. You sat on the small couch and you put the newspaper close to your face, nose almost touching the page, squinting to have a better view.

“Are you blind?” Coriolanus said with an annoyed tone, he tore away the paper from your hands.

”I don’t have my glasses with me,” you lied, you have never worn glasses in your entire life.

You rubbed your temples trying to see clearly again and you swiftly took what seemed to be a pink cookie from the tray on the table. What flavour was that? You tried to make a straight face while chewing that sugary stuff, at least your body was eating something.

“To make things short— they think we are the couple of the moment,” Coriolanus started while reading the page, “that everybody was shocked— bla bla,” he rapidly said, “oh and they mentioned my name four times!”

“No, Mr. Snow, if you have to do something you have to do it right,” Iris intervened, taking the newspaper from his hands.

She sat down on the couch near yours and started reciting the article, reading word by word.

“Is love in the air? In Capitol City probably is.” She read the first line,“what a great title isn’t it?” Iris commented

“Go on or we are going to stay here all night,” Coriolanus said.

You looked at him, he was standing up making you feel inferior, like a shadow looming over you.

“After the unsettling events happened in the last Hunger Games, there is finally some hope in our community. The aspiring president Coriolanus Snow showed up with someone not-so-new in the latest gala before the presidential campaign.”

“ ‘not so new’ so kind of them—” you said and he shushed you. How dare he?

“She studied medicine and has worked with the Head Gamemaker for the past year. Rumor has it that for some kind of incident, she was the cause of the premature death of two tributes.”

Iris took a breath. “Unexpectedly, last night Coriolanus proudly walked with her for the very first time in public. Both dressed in white, representing the noble Snow name, they conquered the attention of the media and the crowd. Are they the couple of the moment?” She smiled while looking at you, “the best part is about to come.”

“If we are basing the answers on the way they look at each other, they definitely stole our hearts. We are looking forward to seeing how this unexpected love will grow.”

You laughed, that was too corny for you, was it possible that they truly believed that little show you made?

”Will Coriolanus Snow win the election the same way he won her heart? Right now we are in love with both of them.” Iris finished.

“Did they really write an article about our possible love story?” You took another cookie, green this time, “they really are bored people.”

”You should be happy they didn’t talk about what happened in the arena,” Coriolanus said but you couldn’t see him, he was standing behind you.

“Well, they mentioned it anyway,” you said while chewing that lemon pastry, or was it mint? For a moment you thought it was better starving than eating whatever thing it was.

”Thanks to me they probably will give you a chance,” he said.

”The tone they used– it was like they think you are doing charity by being with me.”

“Well it kinda is–”

”Oh shut up,” you stand up, turning to him, “your name has never been this many times in a newspaper.” You were close to him, and even if you were not sitting anymore, you felt small standing there facing him.

His eyes were still examining you, as if you were a book written in a language he couldn’t read.

“You two look like siblings fighting over meaningless things,” Iris said, stepping in, getting in the middle of you.

“See? Even Iris thinks you are being overly dramatic.”

You fought the urge to answer back, did he just call you over-dramatic?

“Honey, look who's talking,” Iris said pointing a finger at him, “you are not really easy to work with,” then she turned over to you, “in just one day people fell for your fairytale, imagine what you can do in a month.”

“Do you really think this can work?” You avoided looking at him behind her shoulder.

“They don’t care about what you did, you are just another distraction from their empty life,” she explained to you, “they need something else to talk about.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, there are more important things,” Coriolanus said, “such as the presidential elections.”

”Is there something else you can say instead of politics and fame?”

”What do you want me to tell you? My sad story about when I mixed some drugs in the laboratory?” He stepped closer, ”oh no, that is something you always talk about.”

”I liked you better when you ignored me,” you said remembering the first time you tried to have a conversation with him.

“Stop please,” Iris said, “you two should bond more, this atmosphere is making me wanna retire early,” she touched her hair, orange this time, “maybe you will like each other.” She walked away from your sight.

“It's going to be tiring enough pretending to like him in public,” now there was just the glass table separating you from him.

“So this is a yes, you are going to do this,” his face lightened up.

“It seems this charade it’s working,” you said convincing yourself that was your best chance of getting your reputation back.

Did you just sign a pact with the devil?

He is the forbidden apple. But it doesn’t mean I can’t just play with it.

“Before I forget,” you heard Iris voice coming from the door entrance, “next week dinner with the Holdens and Suncots,” she was putting her yellow coat on, “they gladly accepted the invite here,” then she put her gloves on, “see you tomorrow—oh and try to bond you two,” she pointed a finger at him before closing the door and leaving you alone with Coriolanus.

You looked at the clock above the coat hanger and it was getting late, but you had nowhere else to be at that moment. No one waiting for you at home, no one expecting your call, nothing to do the next day.

“Tigris is going to design another dress for you,” he said referring to the dinner.

“Can’t I just wear something I already have?” The thought of him deciding what color and style your dress had was not something you tolerated.

“Of course not— do you dine here or?” That didn’t sound like an invite, more as if he was suggesting you go home.

“So kind, I’ll pass,” you said with a sarcastic tone.

”I asked because you almost devoured the entire jar of pastries.” He smiled, waiting for your reaction.

”For the record, they are tasteless.”

He rolled his eyes, “the car is waiting for you outside,” he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen.

”I can walk, I don’t need your personal driver,”

Your words stopped him right in his tracks, ”what if you get lost? How could I do without you?” He said jokingly, turning over to see you, “and it’s fifteen minutes away, in the dark— don’t be a child and go by car, you’ll get used to it.”

You didn’t answer, not like you had something to say. Of course you would’ve accepted the ride, your apartment was too far from his house, you just wanted to irritate him. Maybe you were not so different from Coriolanus, you were playing the same game.

Car rides make you recall only good memories. Your dad got a car when you were little, it was gray and smaller than this one, and he used to drive you to school everyday. Until you got into university and you moved to your current house, it was ten minutes from university so you got used to walking.

The engine stopped and you stepped out of the car, it was cold outside and you wished you had heating at home, a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore.

You fumbled with the keys trying to open the door, you were freezing and you rushed because you heard some steps. You didn’t want to have a conversation with your neighbor, she’ll probably just scold you about the stolen tangerines and how loud you shut the door when you go out, the old same story. You finally walked inside but someone blocked you from closing the door. It was a young man, probably in his thirties, he had a tiny recorder on his hand and you immediately clicked.

“Hi, I’m from Capitol’s People Magazine, I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with Coriolanus Snow,” he said pointing you to the black device.

”I’m sorry— for interviews, talk to my manager,” you said with a kind tone.

Iris suggested that every time journalists asked you questions you did not want to answer, you had to say those words, and now was the case. You slowly closed the door but the man put his feet in between.

”How could the heir of one of the most influential figures be with a corrupted woman like you?” He looked at you with eyes full of anger.

Corrupted woman, this was new to you. What was the correct answer to that?

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled while trying to close the door by pushing it against his feet but he was not intending to leave you alone.

He aggressively tried to wedge his foot into the door, forcing it to stay open while he continued to badger you with invasive questions about the gala.

”Are you planning on ruining his image while stealing his money?” He reached your arm and grabbed it.

“What’s wrong with you?” His grip was getting tighter as you tried shoving him.

He was strong enough to smash the door open, stepping inside your house. With his hand on your wrist, he roughly pushed your body against the wall, your back facing him as he stood behind you, your heart pounding outside your chest.

“You are just a crazy bitch,” he whispered, “you think you can fool them but are a disgrace for Panem,” he pushed your head against the wall, one side of your face hitting the coarse plaster making your skin burn.

“Get off me! ” you shouted, struggling against his grip.

In response he hit your head again against the wall. You squinted your eyes in pain as a tear streamed down your face, you felt powerless, everything happened so fast.

“Tell me what you want from me,” you said with a weak voice.

“After all you did, you should shut the fuck up and do what you are asked to do,” he put his hand on your scalp as he pushed you harder against the wall.

You screamed like you never did in your entire life, someone had to hear your cry for help, right? But he was quick to cover your mouth with his palm and that was the perfect occasion for you to bite his skin. He kept his hand on your mouth while he choked on his own screams.

Your muffled howl echoed in the room but no one seemed to hear you. Or so you thought. Someone grabbed the man from his collar and pushed him away from you. It was the driver, his tall figure was now beant down to beat that man. You were paralyzed, now your back was against the wall and your lungs finally breathing, but your body was unable to answer your brain’s orders.

”Run!” The driver screamed at you while punching the man one more time, “go in the car! Run!”

You ran towards the car but your legs felt weak and your head too heavy. You opened the car door and you laid down in the back seats. What the hell just happened?

What if he came back? What if next time there is not someone to save you? Your anxiety grew inside your chest and you kept yourself from crying.

“Are you okay, Miss?” The driver asked breathlessly as he violently closed the front car door with a rush, “should I take you to the hospital?” He was looking at you, he had an old scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before.

You shook your head, “I just need water” you mouthed, trying to maintain a regular breathing.

“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting the street lights while he was driving as if nothing happened, as if his bloody knuckles on the steering wheel were not hurting.

After minutes that seemed hours he talked, “It is my duty,” he said, “Mr. Snow wouldn’t have forgiven me.”

Coriolanus was in his study preparing a speech for the next interview, he had to be careful to pick the perfect words, to speak with the right tone, and to make the adequate facial expressions. Nothing was left to case. Every single action had to be meticulously studied and calculated.

It was his specialty. Playing with words and making people fall in love with his charm. He did it naturally, molding people the shape he wanted. Because he had to have everything under his control, his power, his eyes.

For the first time he was struggling. He was stuck on the opening line and he didn’t know how to continue. Sleepless nights and alcohol were the usual in the past week. This was one of the nights. Locked in his study until he wrote something of that speech, depriving himself from sleep.

Coriolanus was walking around the room, fidgeting with a pen on his long fingers. Until his mind-wandering was stopped by a firm knock on the door, annoyed it could be an Avox, he ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop.

He let out a sigh as he unlocked the doorknob, “how many times do I have to tell–” to his surprise, the driver showed up at his door, “Virma, what are you doing here?”

Coriolanus soon found the answer to his question by looking over the driver’ shoulder. You were hidden behind his back, like a hurt animal scared of its fate. You didn’t want to come here, like a lost child brought back home. But where were you supposed to be? What place instead of his?

Your ruffled hair, your smeared makeup and your empty look. It didn’t take long for him to understand something happened. A sense of anger grew inside of him. This was not written in a script, it was not meant to happen and when things did not go according to plan, Coriolanus lost his composure, he could have been unpredictable.

His face darkened. He grabbed your arm and he dragged you in his study, along with Virma. You felt his hand on your wrist, his touch was something familiar to you, maybe gentle, as if he was actually worried about you. He pushed Virma to the side and closed the door behind him, casting you both in the dim light of his opulent study.

You were now facing him, his expression was different from an hour ago. His hand traveled to your face, his fingers lifting your chin as he leaned to have a better view of you. The left side of your face was scraped, fresh cuts burned on your temple as droplets of blood trailed your skin. Coriolanus traced his fingertips on your bruised skin and you flinched, instantly regretting the movement as a flash of pain shot through your head, but he was not rough like that man. He loosened his grip on your arm, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of your injuries. He was delicate, as if he was touching something fragile.

You were too focused on his expression to even pay attention to your sore skin. His knitted brows, his parted lips and his concerned look.

“Who did this to you?” His voice barely above a whisper, he glared down at you as he inspected your figure, as if he was looking for other scratches he missed.

You could almost feel the tension radiating from him.

His hand was now on your neck, fingers touching the back of your head, “a journalist, I don’t–” you looked down, “he was asking questions but I–"

“Mr. Snow, I think I know who he is ,” the driver said and for a moment you forgot he was in that room, “he is Lucius Cliffhard' son.”

"Cliffhard' son? The father is running for president why would he–” Coriolanus didn’t finish his sentence and he looked back at you, “thank you for your service Virma,” his hand left your neck leaving a warm spot, “we will talk about it later.”

You heard the door closing and now you were left alone with him. You could barely stand up, your adrenaline was leaving your body and your anxiety was taking its place.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he walked towards the opposite side of the room, looking for something in the small bathroom of his study.

You were standing in the shiny black floor, your heart was pounding so loud you could not hear your weak voice, “he probably was waiting for me to come home because the moment I opened the door he uhm—“ you stuttered, "started asking questions but I didn't answer, so he pushed me against the wall and his hand was on my mouth—“ you paused, ”he hit my head and—“ you felt a lump on your throat and you hoped he didn’t hear you.

His steps were again echoing the room, his figure walking closer to you. He had a piece of cotton wool in his hands and without a notice he held it against your scratches by cupping your face with his other hand. It was burning your skin, his fingertips were slightly brushing your neck while he dabbed gently the cotton to clean the wounds on your temple.

”Continue talking,” he said nonchalantly as he tilted your head to have a better view of tour left side of the face.

You stopped breathing in that moment, maybe because of the nauseating smell of the disinfectant or maybe it was because he was inches away from you, his focused look on the bleeding cut, “I think he just wanted to scare me,” you managed to say in a steady tone.

The blonde snapped his head at you, his blue eyes now on yours, “he is a psychopath,” his scent reminded you of that night at the gala, “he hit you because you didn't want to be interviewed, he could've killed you."

You reached his hand where he was pressing the cotton wool and for a moment your fingers brushed before he removed his hands from your skin. “you are exaggerating– he just needs help, ” you said.

Coriolanus closed his eyes, he clenched his fists and the knuckles turned white. He walked towards the desk and he poured himself a drink, taking a long burning sip. You watched him in silence as you inspected the reddish cotton on your hands.

“Do you trust him so much you want to come back to your house?” He was behind his desk, arms resting above the chair, “I told you, here you could have been safer from the media,” he raised his voice, “but you are stubborn, you risked your life and– if it wasn’t for Virma who knows what could have happened,” he said nervously while pouring himself a drink.

“So now it’s my fault?” You bawled at him.

“You don’t understand that now whatever happens to you affects me,” he said, “what are they going to say when they see your bruises and god forbid— he writes an article saying who knows what lies of what happened.”

“See? You don’t care about my safety, you only care about what they think,” you stepped closer to him because he wasn’t even looking at you, “you want me as your puppet, so you can have me under your control— your house, your peacekeepers, your scripts— it’s all part of your plan,” you said.

”You are free to go back to your pathetic life if that’s what you want," he took a sip of his drink, still looking down, “I can’t save you from yourself, after all– you were miserable before and now too,” it was like venom coming from his lips.

A tear streamed down your face, “this is what I hate about you,” you scoffed, “you are a selfish and heartless man, I was right from the start.”

You have called him only good names: uncaring, unaffectionate, disrespectful, selfish and heartless. The list was getting longer.

“What did you expect? I thought it was going to be easier with you but you are getting on my nerves,” he stood up walking towards you, “you should be grateful— but no, you like acting so superior to me,” his chest was getting closer to you.

You scoffed, “why? Who are you?” You looked up at him through your lashes, “just a rich spoiled kid who is playing at being the next president of Panem.”

“And you fucking need me,” he said against your cheek, “this is why you didn’t leave, you don’t want to admit that without this ‘heartless man’ standing in front of you who knows where you could be right now,” his eyes were consuming you.

”Look who's talking,” you pointed a finger at him, “the Capitol's favorite toy who needs a ‘miserable girl’ to make him popular.”

Coriolanus placed his free hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly, “you like this am I right?” He licked his lips, “talking back at me, uh?”

His nose was touching yours, his grip was burning your skin and you could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The blonde was dangerously close to you, but you missed that feeling. Have you already erased what he has said to you? Was he so powerful to make you fall for his spell?

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

His lips brushed yours, memories flooding back to you. You didn’t know if he was about to bite you or kiss you. It would have hurt you either way.

“Tell an Avox to prepare your room,” he said, “or freeze in the streets, I don’t care— your choice.” Coriolanus let your arm go and he walked away from your sight.

It started to be just for show but the backstage was even worse than the real life. At the same time you could not give up on this play, you had to change your rules, your morals, to keep being with him.

So you were alone in the dark in the hallway, thinking about running away or staying.

Coriolanus could not win this way, you hated to admit you still needed his presence to fix your reputation. The darkness seemed to swallow you as you hesitated, torn between your principles and the pull of his influence. He had too much power right now, but you were willing to wait, by making things your own terms.

As you stood there, unwilling to give in to his manipulations, the lingering memory of his touch warred with the sharpness of his words. You slammed the door shut for him to hear you, he would have to do better to get you away from him.

Coriolanus could have touched your face as if you were the rarest creature on earth but the same lips once brushed yours, could tell the most hurtful things to you.

But you did that too. You were both craving the same sin. But too proud to admit on your faces.

“Is everything okay now?” You were in Tigris room, a colorful space barely illuminated by the outside light. It was in the basement, not really a cozy place to work.

You were talking about the aggression that happened a couple of days ago, nothing you wanted to recall actually, especially your conversation with Coriolanus, but you didn’t tell her that.

”Yes, the bruises are healing over,” you answered, touching your temple.

Tigris smiled at you while taking your measurements. She didn’t look like her cousin, apart from the blonde hair, she was pure and kind hearted. Why was an angel like her on earth with people like you? Like him?

“Why are we doing this again?” You asked “Didn’t you already have my measurements?”

You were standing on a stool, only wearing your undergarments while Tigris was putting the tape measure around your chest.

”Coryo sent me a note telling me that last time the dress was a little loose,” that was the last thing you could ever expect to hear from her, because it was in fact true, he noticed that.

“He did what?”

“I know, I was surprised too,” she smiled, “anyway, I read the newspaper.”

Oh no, you didn’t want to talk about that too.

“You two look great in the picture,” she handed you a wrinkled page where you could see a black and white photo of you and Coriolanus at the gala, he was looking at you while holding your waist.

You didn’t know about the existence of that picture until now. That night you were too starved to even pay attention to the newspaper, how could you miss that?

“It was so strange seeing him with a woman,” she commented while looking for some fabric.

“What do you mean? Has he ever had a girlfriend?” You knew the answer to that question but you wanted to hear from her.

“More like ‘girls’ than ‘girlfriends’, ” she laughed, “I’ve never met one of them,” Tigris wrapped a red cloth around your waist.

“Well, not that I’m special,” you looked at the mirror in front of you, “it’s just a stupid show.”

“What a shame,” she folded the excess fabric on your side and put a needle, “I liked you,” Tigris whispered.

You wished you could do something for her, she deserved more than a molded little room and a cousin like Coriolanus.

“So we are seeing each other more often, am I right?” she broke the awkward silence.

“Yes, Iris forced me to stay in this house,” Iris was really in apprehension when she saw your bruises, she lectured you on how people are vicious and in your ‘situation’ it was better not risking more.

“How lucky, aren’t I?” You added.

“I know my cousin can be– difficult to understand but,” she walked behind you, “there are some things that brought him to be this way,” her fingers tighten the fabric on your back, “and of course he’s not a saint, he just needs something– someone perhaps, to make him remember who he really is.”

“I can’t fix him,” you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, “I’m broken as much as he is and– we are incompatible.”

“As the sun and the moon?”

“Maybe.”

The comparison did fit well.

One is the star planets gravitate around, the only source of light at the center of the solar system. The moon is a small satellite whose only purpose is to spin around the earth, showing only one face and depending only on the planet's gravitational field.

Coriolanus wanted to appear like the sun, bright and powerful but he only displayed one face like the moon. You felt small, needing for something to orbit around as the moon did, but you didn’t know how radiant and capable you actually were, exactly like the sun.

Since you moved in his house, nights were longer than the others. It was getting harder to fall asleep because of your intrusive thoughts keeping you awake.

Is the door locked? Am I safe here?

The positive side was that your new room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. Then, you were not freezing anymore and you were finally eating food, not stolen fruit and smelly milk.

Even though you were living in his house, you tried avoiding his presence: by not having lunch the same hour as him, by going out your room only when you heard his door locking or having your usual meetings with Iris before him. That was your way of saying that he could not control your life, especially when he treated you the way he did.

However, that was still his house.

Red silky bed sheets, roses scent, his gold engraved initials on objects.

Coriolanus was not easy to forget. It was as if he had poisoned the air you were breathing, everything reminding you of him. The good and the bad. You promised yourself to not be tempted anymore, he was mercilessly manipulating you into believing he was the person he wanted to appear at the Capitol. But other than his mesmerizing eyes, his golden curls and delicate hands, there was another man hiding in his shadow. You had to picture that side of him every time he teased you, or you could be a sinner.

You were laying on the bed, leafing through the pages of the brand new script it was sent to your room. This was even worse than the other. Not only you had to remember some political matters regarding the current campaign, but you had to pretend again how good of a man Coriolanus was. How he supported and cared for you and how bright your plans as a couple were.

“I was extremely lucky to meet him, he is the sun to my dark days,” what an irony, “I am looking forward to living this exquisite love fully by his side.”

So cheesy for what?

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

You heard a muffled voice coming from the hallway, you walked towards the door but you didn’t answer. It was him of course, after the bad there was the good. He surprisingly tried talking with you on other occasions, but you had walked away before he could even finish his sentence, running away was easier, or god knows what you could’ve done.

“I can hear your heavy breathing,” he said close to the door, “open the door or I will,” he was waiting for your response, thinking about what he could say to get your attention. “Please?” Good manners are always the right answer, right? Right?

You let out a sight as you unlocked the door. Coriolanus was standing close to the room’s entrance, his arm was leaning against the wooden jamb and you noticed he was wearing his coat, as if he was about to go out.

“Oh so you��re alive,” he said, “I was worried about you.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter either way. Right?

“What do you want?” You were still holding the doorknob, not letting him step inside the room.

“Come with me, we have to go somewhere,” he said with a rush in his tone.

“I kindly refuse your invitation,” you were about to close the door but he put his hand in between. I could squash his fingers, you thought, nothing he could not recover from.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, “sooner or later you will have to pretend to like me,” his face was partially illuminated by your room light, making his eyes brighter.

You looked at his long fingers keeping the door open, he had his usual shiny ring on his index finger and for a moment you thought you could really squash his hand, “I think it’s better we have less interactions possible apart from the social events.”

“It’s been days since people saw us together, yesterday they asked about you at the debate,” he hissed, “see? Instead of asking about my political project they were– nevermind, just come with me.” His eyes were begging you, such a satisfying image.

“I’m not dressed up, what a pity,” you said mockingly.

He peeked at your figure, “you’re fine.”

You did not feel fine. You weren’t even wearing your clothes, you did not had the chance to pack up your things from your apartment and you had to ask Tigris for some piece of clothing that could fit you. She gave you some of her designs, a green matcha wool skirt matched with a cotton white top. At least you were about to wear pretty clothings, not your old unironed shirts.

“Just for show,” you said while grabbing a jacket.

“Just for show,” he echoed.

You realised that in this game of power and appearances, keeping your distance wasn't an option anymore. You knew that you were now entwined in a dangerous dance with Coriolanus, one that could lead to momentous success or catastrophic ruin. The stakes were high and your mixed feelings towards him could not interfere with your plan, he was not the only manipulator anymore.

“Where is he bringing me?” you asked Virma after fifteen minutes of silence in the car. It was better not talking directly to Coriolanus when possible.

“Miss, isn’t this a date? Enjoy the ride,” the driver said with a smile.

You and Coriolanus laughed. Date? The only date you were looking for was the date this show would end. The car stopped and from the window you immediately recognised the place. It was not a fancy restaurant, a loud club or someone’s wealthy mansion.

First date with Coriolanus Snow at… the Citadel?

That was not what the script said.

You heard the car speeding away as he walked towards the huge grey entry, he unlocked the door and he stepped inside. You stood on the sidewalk, not sure if you wanted to follow him, it was too late to change your mind and too dark to be alone outside.

At least ten peacekeepers were guarding the entrance but Coriolanus walked towards the grey corridor unbothered. The first time you were there, you were searched as if you were a prisoner, as if you could hide a bomb inside your small pockets. This time they did not even consider you, because you both spent months working day and night in that cold laboratory.

The elevator plunged down at least twenty floors, the dark walls were so thick you could strain your vocal chords for hours but no one would hear you. You were standing beside him, waiting for the door to open as soon as possible. The only sound echoing in that place was the loud machinery that was slowly moving down.

“Did you miss this place so much you wanted a guided tour by me?” You asked, breaking the silence, “or is it a surprise party for me?” Five floors left, “tell me now so I put my best smile for the cameras,” you said mockingly, but he didn’t even look at you.

Couldn’t this man laugh for once? So boring.

The elevator doors parted and you finally stepped inside the laboratory. It was an open space divided into three areas. The center was where Dr. Gaul did experiments with animals, occasionally it was also where she did her lectures and exams; one side was the sterile area where the researchers did surgical operations and medical trials where they often experimented with new drugs on genetically modified animals; on the other side, there was the library and research tables, where you mostly spent most of your time studying advanced biotechnology methods.

“How romantic– I guess what people are going to say when I tell them for our first date you took me to see these sweet and lovely creatures,” you said as you looked at the wall glass with dead beasts inside clear yellowish cases.

“You should keep the bar low with me— and I just need to find some documents, you know this laboratory better than me,” he removed his coat and stepped towards the library on the other side of the room.

“You tricked me– you just wanted a favor from me,” your voice echoed and you were not sure he heard you. You walked through the library looking for him.

“I’m in the archives section,” his voice was not far away.

The library was arranged in a circular pattern, as if the bookshelves were layers and in the very core there was a large space with study desks, the ones you had slept on many nights back when you worked there. Soon you found the blonde leaning over a desk while reading some pages in an orange envelope.

“Did you find it?” You asked in an annoyed tone.

“Here there is– this is your file,” he said while standing up.

“My what now?” You walked over him, intended to grab the envelope with the 'confidential' print on the cover.

Coriolanus stepped back, leaning his back on the bookshelf behind him, “given your precedents, I thought it was better to check your past before they did,” he had already read your file a long time ago, but he didn’t tell you that.

He started reading the first page, “you uhm graduated with honors in medicine– bla bla bla first student in your class, —okay here, you specialized in general surg— oh no you did not” he paused, “yet?” Coriolanus looked at you with a puzzled face, suggesting you to say something.

“I will this year,” you looked at your fingers, fidgeting with the ends of your jacket.

“Lie number one, here it says you didn’t pay the tuition,” he pointed at the paper.

Fuck. You couldn’t afford paying for electricity, imagine the university fees, in the most expensive city in Panem. You stuttered something but he continued talking.

“Anyway, you got a place in the Ranvistill Clinic —impressive— and then you mysteriously asked for a transfer after two years, and this is how you got here,” he looked at you, “what happened?”

Was that a tricky question? This conversation was making you uncomfortable. You felt under trial, as if you were accused of crimes, Coriolanus was the judge and you were the only one defending yourself.

“Is this an interview? I didn’t know that apart from being interested in writing scripts you also were a human resource guy,” you tried switching the topic, the conversation was getting too personal.

“Do you have something to hide? I must be prepared for anything they can ask me,” he frowned.

You had many secrets you hoped he didn’t already know, “I changed jobs, that’s it.”

“You failed my test,” he chuckled, “you lied straight to my face in a serious matter –this is lie number two.”

“A test? What the hell Coriolanus.” You sighed as you walked over a desk, sitting on it.

“See? This is why you don’t have my trust.”

The man that cannot be trusted was really talking about trust?

“If you already know every detail of my life, why are you talking with me?”

“Oh, I knew it was going to bother you —anyway no, there’s just something that does not add up.” His eyes went again on that file, hands leafing through pages.

“Which is,” you said with a passive tone.

“Clodius South, head of the surgery department —or I should say, your umh— ex boyfriend?” He closed the folder and put it carelessly on the shelf behind him.

Your heart skipped a bit, “I’m done,” you stood up but he came closer to you.

“Answer just one question, I'm curious– why did he fire you? I mean, officially you transferred but I know it wasn’t voluntary,” he didn’t seem to give up, his look was pleading for answers, “so strange, you had been together for a year.”

“Why are you so interested in my sentimental life? You don’t have a chance with me, you know that right?” You laugh, feeling the tension in the air.

“There is no such risk, I’m not attracted to you,” his figure blocked you from walking away, “I just need your popularity, so I can fix it to something good.”

“You were the one kissing me in the car,” you bit your tongue, that kiss was something you didn’t want to bring up, it was better to forget about it. However, the other option was talking about your past, not something you were proud of.

“Oh please as if you didn’t want to,” he tilted his head, eyes locked on yours.

You laughed at his words, “you wish,” your back leaned against the desk.

“Then why did you kiss me back? I remember you didn’t let me breathe for a moment.”

“That was part of the show, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Now you use my full name? Last time I checked you called me differently,” he rested his arm on the desk you were lying on, making his height the same as yours.

You damned the only time it slipped from your lips calling him Coryo, a nickname you promised yourself to not say ever again.

“Why? Did it turn you on?”

His other hand was near your leg, slowly moving closer to your exposed skin.

“You can’t even imagine,” he swiftly looked down to your lips then back to your eyes.

The room did not feel cold anymore. Your breathing was getting slower, his parted lips warming your skin, his arm grazing your leg.

“So tell me, what happened with him?” Coriolanus insisted, but you had other plans in mind.

He was in power right now, he brought you here just to humiliate you with your deepest secrets. Weren't you just a miserable girl? It was your turn to make him feel miserable.

“You say you’re not attracted to me but you always find an excuse to touch me,” you whispered to his ear, his curls brushing your nose and his hand slightly brushing your leg.

This would have made him back off, telling you how stupid you are to think something like that, gaslighting you about the fact he never did such things like touching you.

“If it bothers you so much why you never push me away,” his hand traveled up to your leg, “go on, I’m waiting,” his fingers were now brushing your thigh and you felt his cold ring against your skin.

Fuck. That was not your plan.

You can always get back to it.

“I know your limits— I bet you barely touched a woman in your life,” you knew it was not true, you only said it as a provocation, to hurt his fragile ego as you planned.

I won.

”I don’t have limits, and we both know you would lose your bet,” his hand went under the hem of your skirt, making you shiver in surprise.

His index finger traced the outline of your panties, slightly playing with the waistband. Coriolanus didn’t break eye contact with you, his pupils were wide, you couldn’t see the blue that usually painted his iris, he was breathing slowly with parted lips, as if he wanted to control his heartbeat. And his hand felt so warm and familiar, so close to your core.

You knew that look, the one that he gave you when he let his guard down. The same look Coriolanus had when you came in his study a couple of days ago, his other side that he rarely showed to anyone.

His palm rested on your bare naked thigh.

“You don’t talk now?” His voice soothed your face, “tell me to stop and I will.”

That was the perfect occasion to slap that smug from his face, but you couldn’t even make up a coherent sentence. His voice was a gentle whisper cutting through the tension, but all you could manage was to stare at his eyes, trying to calculate his next move.

You knew what it was. It was a dangerous game you were playing, one that could shatter your plan. Did you have something to lose? You have already bent your morals, risked your life and crossed lines you never thought you would. Coriolanus would have been another crime to add to your list.

He is the forbidden fruit, I shall not fall in temptation.

But what if I took just a bite? A taste of mortal sin.

“Why did you bring me here?” You managed to say trying to control your breathing.

“You once asked me why did I chose you,” Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “and I told you that it was for the presidential campaign,” his hand moved up again, “publicity, press and interviews— I only care about that,” his fingers were covering your clothed cunt.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your back was still leaning against the desk edge, his other arm on your side. His words were not making things easier for you, not because you were listening to what he actually was saying, but because his tone of voice was something you could only hear in these moments. When he acted good, for the cameras, for the show. But there was no one in that room.

Coriolanus kept talking, “but my point is, why didn't you leave?” His index finger circled around your covered core, “I mean— I could list a few reasons why, considering also how wet you are right now,” he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wetness. “But you always say you hate me, that you despise me, why are you here then? Are you so desperate?”

Your eyes were closed, your mind wandered prohibited thoughts while his hand was painfully too far away from what your body needed. What could you say to him? That he was right about being so desperate to pretend to be with him, so you could clean your image? That despite his selfish behavior he was tempting you into falling in his game?

Coriolanus brushed your soaked entrance with his fingertips as he massaged your clit with your own wetness. You shamefully spread your legs giving him more access to your folds, his digits that once touched your face were gently rubbing your needy center.

Your silent whimpers were enough as an answer for him to slide one finger inside you.

Your hand was now on his biecep, grabbing his arm so tightly or you could fall. There was something in you that was holding you back from punching him to his face. Was this the charm everyone talked about? Was this the version of him everyone adored?

“Given that you prefer remaining silent— I can tell you why,” his hand moved inside you, “you like the attention,” your cheek was against his, while your other hand rested on the nape of his neck.

Your reaction to his movements made him close his eyes in bliss, but you were too focused on not making sounds that you didn’t notice his expression. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was making you feel good.

“I bet you’ve barely been touched by a man,” Coriolanus echoed.

It’s just one bite of the apple.

You looked at him this time, and you wished you did it before. The blue in his eyes, his plump lips, the glistening on his forehead covered by his falling blonde curls. An angel.

No, no, he is the devil, not an angel.

“Wrong,” you breathed and his pace fastened, “actually they were better than you,” you whispered and his eyes widened.

“Lie number three,” he slid another finger, “I can tell when you’re pretending and when you’re not,” he brushed your clit with his thumb.

Oh.

You bucked your hips to make some friction, Coriolanus was painfully slow as if he was taking all the time in the world. He leaned his head to your left temple, where small reddish bruises were fading away from your skin, and he planted feather kisses on it. Coriolanus slowly traced a trail of wet kisses alongside your face. His soft lips were healing your bruises, his hand was igniting your core.

His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out your hole and slightly curled to hit exactly your sweet spot. Your little moans echoed in the room along with the sloppy sound of his hand never leaving your cunt. Coriolanus stroked your bundle of nerves once more, his lips sucked a spot behind your hear, slowly moving down your neck, marking your delicate skin with his warm kisses.

That was it. You were sure your high was coming in a matter of seconds, your mouth curved as pleasure began flowing through your body.

“But wasn’t I an uncaring, disrespectful —and what was that—oh, selfish and heartless man?” His hand stopped moving, “well I guess you were right,” his fingers were slowly pulling out your unfulfilled hole.

What was he doing?

“Did you really think you could do whatever you wanted? Having meetings without me, eating locked in your room, ignoring me for days— I have the control here.” Coriolanus looked down at you with a satisfied expression, believing that he finally asserted his dominance over you.

Your mind raced for a response, but before you could gather yourself, his words hung heavy in the air.

That was his revenge.

You thought you could teach him a lesson but he was a step ahead of you. Coriolanus humiliated you, exactly as he planned. His intent was to make you feel ashamed of your past but you gave him a better opportunity: he made you feel needy for him.

Self sabotaging.

“They are here,” he said in a calm tone, as if you were not almost buckling in that very moment.

Five seconds ago you were close to your orgasm and now you were feeling the emptiness growing inside you. You looked around confused, adjusting your body so now you were standing up, your weak knees begging for rest.

Who?

“They?” You stuttered as you watched him stepping back.

“Yes, I called them before,” he smirked, ”put your best smile for the cameras.”

Coriolanus acted like he did not just had his fingers inside you, but his body was telling another story, his bulge was visible from his pants and you noticed that as he swiftly covered his erection with his hand.

He walked towards the elevator where two peacekeepers were waiting for him. You fixed your skirt, probably too ruined and sticky to ever wear it again.

Fuck him.

You followed him, making sure to walk properly or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were. The thick doors closed, it was you, two peacekeepers and the blonde. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you still had traces of his saliva on your neck and a little bruise on your skin. A new one.

Coriolanus took a handkerchief from his pocket and he carefully cleaned his hand from your wetness, like he was cleaning his hands after a crime. Yours. The cloth wrapped around his fingers, as your walls clenched around him moments ago.

Then he caught you staring at his hand, “are you okay? You look flushed.”

You sick bastard.

Your cheeks were painted in a crimson color, of course he could see that, he was the cause of that. The same cause that made you cream your panties and shake your legs. If it wasn’t for the peacekeepers, you would have probably strangled him. But that was his lucky day.

He won.

After an infinite amount of time where your mind couldn’t stop picturing the sloppy sound from before, the elevator’s door parted. Coriolanus grabbed your shoulder as he was directed toward the exit. The silence in that room was now replaced by loud voices coming from the outside.

“Who did you call?” You tried pulling away from his grip but he kept you close.

“I told you, they haven’t seen us in a while.”

He opened the entrance and you heard someone shouting, “they are here!” A group of unknown faces were pointing microphones towards you, asking questions you didn’t bother to listen to.

You walked through the crowd side by side to him, his arm around your waist as you covered your face from the blinding flashes. The car was waiting for you in the exact spot it left you, Coriolanus let you enter in the car first as he followed by closing the door, blocking the loudness outside.

You sat on the back seat, heart racing outside your chest, forcing yourself to completely ignore his presence.

Coriolanus was again back in your thoughts as your wetness slid down your legs.

He is the forbidden fruit.

I am tempted by thee.

A/N: finally it’s out!! It has been so hard writing this chapter, I had so many ideas that I couldn’t mold them together into a coherent text lol. Anyway, as always tell me if there are grammatical mistakes because another difficulty was my limited vocabulary (a special thanks to wordreference.com or I wouldn’t be here today.) Every day I’m trying my best to improve my English so have mercy on me! Let me know if you want to be tagged next time!! 💌

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! Your comments mean a lot to me ❤️❤️ I love you all

ask me questions here 💌

Tag list: @daenerysqueenofhearts @snowsgames @secretsicanthideanymore @serving-targaryen-realness @rareheartsclub @metalarmsandmanbuns @jzr201 @xoxohannahlee @blueberrymuffinmouse @icedcoffee-please @xybilipid-post-blog @phoward89 @katherine101 @gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @coolcatyarb @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @phoward89 @commanderfreethatdust @thepassionatereader @anjellaufeyson @xoxohannahlee

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coryo x reader #the hunger games #coryo smut #lucy gray baird #coriolanus smut #billy the kid x reader #young coriolanus snow #politician coriolanus snow

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spacelatinoluvr · 1 month ago

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THE WOLF AND THE DRAGON MASTERLIST - aemond targaryen

*currently under construction/being rewritten*

summary: To dance with dragons is to play with wolves. After surviving her own assassination attempt, Alarra Stark endured a large scar across her face, slicing her face in half. For years after Alarra was now known as "Alarra The Fierce" due to her ferocity at the young age, defending herself valiantly at merely thirteen-years-old. After then, she spent years training with her older brother, Cregan Stark, so that one day she could avoid the pain and suffering of anyone in her family; including herself. But, after those years spent training with men much larger than her, she is sent away and betrothed to Joffrey Velaryon for alliance towards the rightful heir to the Iron Throne: Rhaenyra Targaryen. Accompanying the family to Kingslanding, Alarra realized maybe marrying the young Velaryon boy wasn't so awful. But that was until she met a peculiar "one-eyed" prince. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!OC tags: slow burn, forbidden love, canon Aemond, enemies to lovers, long fic, original characters, war, arranged marriage rating: 18+, !MDNI!

masterlist:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7, in progress

#hotd aemond #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond x oc #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

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esggs · 3 months ago

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Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#8 : Ice-Cream Date

[why should you trust Noritoshi Kamo? Why should he trust you?]

[tw: noritoshi kamo x reader, arranged marriage, Danny DeVito, forced marriage, child marriage, small filler chapter a bit to round out the plot, omg they’re getting along, house captivity, fluff]

#7 - Jealousy, Jealousy #9 : The Lady Kamo

“This is not fun at all.” You huff at Noritoshi Kamo. “I want to throw flying kicks.”

Your husband has got you doing warm-up shit for the past half an hour: running, touching toes, stretching. For someone who spitefully promised to replace Kanato, his half-brother, as your martial arts tutor, he’s not letting you do much of martial arts. Only the promise of letting you shoot arrows from his bow is making you not immediately leave the training room.

“You’ll injure yourself if you do all that without any prior training. We’ll go step-by-step. Now–” Kamo leans over you from behind, lightly pulling your waist to correct your downward dog form (you reckon your blush can be put down to exercise; you’re just 14 after all). “– Distil me, and predict my next movements. That’s useful in combat.”

Is this a test? Noritoshi knows that you’re strictly forbidden from using your cursed technique, under the threat of heavy punishment. Maybe he’s trying to get me into trouble so I can’t go to Jujutsu High. But… didn’t he sign my school admission papers himself? Did he change his mind?

“I never use Distillation, not since I came here.” You’re not taking any chances. Going to Jujutsu High is literally the only way you can be independent. Or else you live the rest of your life like Miyumi Kamo does: disrespected and discarded once her use was over. So you lie through your teeth: “I don’t even remember how to use it.”

“It’s impossible to forget your cursed technique. It’s engraved onto your brain, body and soul. So go ahead, Distil me.”

What game are you playing, Kamo?

“I can’t.”

“You already did, didn’t you?” Your heart skips a beat. Fuck. “Every night when you think I’m asleep. So go ahead now,” Kamo face is straight, no taste of humour or anger in it. “Read my thoughts.”

There’s no point hiding it now. You’re struck seeing your situations so plainly: Noritoshi Kamo is the heir of the opulent and influential Kamo Clan. You are his wife and nothing more. He has the power to decide whether your cursed technique usage goes punished or praised. He has the power to ruin your life. Right when you were forming buds of friendship, you are starkly reminded of the difference between your stations.

And you can’t not be you. “I don’t take commands.” I’m fucking this up so bad. “You might be angry about the whole Kanato thing, but don’t burden me with your issues. I don’t take commands.” Shit. I’m done for. I’m not going to Jujutsu High, am I?

Time extends infinitely as you await the judge to pronounce your sentence.

But perhaps... perhaps you don't understand Kamo, not even after all the times you've read his mind through and through, because he simply nods. Nothing more. “A request then?” He makes an effort, you can tell, to soften his voice.

You stand still like a statue. All he was trying was to give some space to practise your cursed technique; he just ended up pushing you back into your shell. Or rather a fortress, where you, a scared little child, hoard other people’s secrets, to be used against them when the time comes-- the only defence you have. And to think that he was actually doing so well trying to get you to come out of there.

How do I fix this? “Do you want to go out for ice-cream?”

“Out?” You're shocked. You’re usually not allowed to leave the Kamo estate; the last time you did was maybe... 2 years ago? You don’t even remember.

“It’ll be my treat, don’t worry. No one will say anything.”

Can he actually do that? Can he convince the elders to let me out? You’re a threat to society, you’ve internalised that by this point. Isn’t it wrong for you to go out?

—---

“I love going out! This is AMAZING!” You can’t stop taking pictures of everything- everyone! So many people! So many things to see! The smell of roasting dalgona, the lanterns hanging from cables overhead, the latest streetwear-clad bikers smoking, the businessman walking briskly, the mother scolding her children! Aeon Mall, Porta, Kyoto Station Building– you’re going through all of them, making the most out of your day out!

“You’ll be able to go out whenever you want when you’re in Jujutsu High.” Kamo, carrying your many shopping bags, reminds you calmly. You seem to have gotten over prior spat.

“Take a picture of me here!” “I want to try double-decker donuts!” “Let’s get these Prada shawls, please, Noritoshi-san!”

She’s so lucky she was born into money. Noritoshi enjoys seeing you this ecstatically happy. It’s just the two of you, Kamo doesn’t need any bodyguards or handlers. As you sit for an Italian dinner, he decides that it’s okay to breach your previous topic.

“yn, I’m very curious–”

“Do you think those shoes that guy’s wearing are ugly? 'Cuz I think they’re Danny DeVito level ugly.”

“– Gossiping isn’t good. As I was saying, I really want to know how your powers work, yn. Would you be okay telling me?”

You laugh at him, cheeks full of penne alfredo. “I don’t know much either, frankly. I wasn’t allowed to look into it, you know. Besides, if you’re looking for a method to block it, give up. Not even Gojo Satoru could do that.”

Kamo’s eyes are keen. “Why not?”

“Because it works on photons of light. Gojo’s Infinity works on matter, not light, because otherwise he’d be invisible. Distillation can speed up light in a very specific way so that I can 'see' glimpses of the past... understand the story, in a way. Anything I perceive with my eyes, I can Distil. Everything I can see, I know.” You say. "I kept getting headaches because it was just too much information at once, so I made a Binding Vow. I have to ask a very specific question so that I get a very specific answer, but in exchange I get to know answers for at least 50 years back in the past."

To think this talent was to be wasted. “You’re incredible.” I’ll protect her. I’ll have to.

That also reminds him. “So all those times you Distilled me at night, you didn't ask if was sleeping?"

You smile sheepishly, "I was sure that you were."

He returns your smile. A rare moment. "So you know me, then?”

“Thoroughly.”

“Then you know that I am not your enemy.”

“I reckon.”

“And that I am trustworthy.”

You laugh. He might be as trustworthy as the sun, but you don’t know how to trust others. Still- "I'm sorry for Distilling you when you were asleep."

"I'd rather you ask me before you do that the next time. It's more polite." He uses the toasted bread to scoop up some pasta sauce. You copy him. "I see that there's no point keeping secrets from you?"

"Absolutely none."

"Then it's my right that you keep none from me, either."

Eh? He's not wrong but... He's asking you to trust him. Like friends do. Like married couples do. For all that he is, Noritoshi Kamo has no leverage in front of his wife: you alone decide how much you want to reveal to him.

"Alright, then. Whatever you ask me, I'll answer you honestly, as long as it is okay to do so." You promise. Kamo wipes a smidge of sauce off your cheek with a tissue. His way of saying, "Thank you."

“Noritoshi-san, teach me to spar properly. I don’t want to appear so weak among my classmates.”

“Is that a command?” You’re about to excuse yourself when you notice that he’s smiling. Holy fuck, he’s making a joke??

“Yes, Lord Kamo.” You play along.

“As you wish, Lady Kamo.”

#9 : The Lady Kamo

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dawnbreaker-mylove · 1 month ago

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𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒂𝒘𝒏

Pairing: Zayne x afab!reader

god x mortal, arranged marriage (kinda), forbidden love, slow burn ( ・∇・)

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction of the game Love and Deepspace. Some characters are from the game, and some are original characters. If there are any similarities to real people, it's purely coincidental.

Warning: MDNI; The characters are mostly adults. Explicit scenes of gore and sex.

Synopsis:

You are a young healer living on your own after your father passed away from an illness. Struggling to support yourself, you hope to use your medical knowledge to make some money to get through these tough times. Suddenly, priests come to your door, offering you a position and promising to pay you for it.

After agreeing, you are immediately taken to the temple. They shower you with silks, gold, and jewelry, things you didn't expect from these devoted worshippers. You wonder why they are treating you this way when you are just a healer. It's not until that evening that you wake up by the hearth, surrounded by monks and priests, praying for an offering to the deity that resides in the mountains, the Master of Fate.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 🔒

A/N: Hi ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧ wanted to try my hand at writing after so many years. This is my first time writing fanfiction and writing in second POV, so please, you may leave comments on how I can improve, but that doesn't welcome hate on the work. Please note that this fic is loosely inspired by Chinese mythology but not its entirety. Inaccuracies are inevitable.

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thevampireslovelywife · 7 months ago

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INTROOOOO

Heyyyy

This is just me being unhinged in all aspects sooooooo

Call me Raine/ Adalaide/ Lennox or Nox

I'm a minor so don't be weird

I use any/all pronouns

my pronouns page is here

my boyfriend <33 @justaboymadeofhoneyandglass

(if you're homophobic, transphobic, or any shit along those lines dni)

I like many things:

Hamilton

Twilight (ik it's bad but still)

Reading

Writing

Hazbin hotel

Helluva boss

Heartstopper

Music

Heathers

Anime

Marauders

And more but I don't remember

I have adhd and autism (I'm self diagnosed)

I am not sane or funny by any sense of the word/hj sooooo anything i say is just out into the world, and if u don't like it?

Guess what

YOU CAN FUCKIN LEAVEEEEEEEEEEE

so simple ik

MY FICS(all on ao3):

MENTALLY IN LOVE

Bellatrix Black x Rita Skeeter (Quillkiller) — Love confessions, fluff, oneshot

★★★

BEAUTIFUL DANCER

James Potter x Regulus Black(Starchaser)— Ballet au, love confessions, completed

★★★★

PEOPLE LIVE, PEOPLE DIE; JUST DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND

Percy Jackson x Annabeth Chase(Percabeth)— Major character death(but not really), canon divergence, Dark Percy, incomplete with 2 chapters(very very bad at updating this one)

★★★★

JASON AND LEO: A CASE STUDY ON UNREQUITED LOVE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

Jason Grace x Leo Valdez (ValGrace)— major character death, angst, unrequited requited love, loosely based off of the battle with Gaia, unhappy ending, oneshot

★★★★

YOU WOULD HAVE TO STOP THE WORLD JUST TO STOP THE FEELING

Narcissa Black x Lily Evans(NightFlower)— arranged marriage, Forbidden love, denial, angst, bittersweet ending, inspired by Good Luck Babe! By Chappell Roan, oneshot

So basically that's it

I'll add to this later

Byeeeeeeee

#intro post #blog intro

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moonlightndaydreams · 1 year ago

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Forbidden (A SKZ Family Secret) Part 4 of 8

Read Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 2.5 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8

Fem reader // Han Jisung // female Aunty Lina (Lino) // Hyuna (Hyunjin) // Suengmin

You are the nanny/housekeeper for Han and Hyuna (Hyunjin), helping take care of their two sons and keeping daily life in order. But what happens when Han and his Sister-in-law Lina take an extra liking to you, and you are caught up in a secret that you never could have imagined?

Chapter Summary: A little bit of backstory. We find out the baby's sex, and you get closer to Hyuna.

Writer's Note: I have to warn you that this is a bit of a tear-jerker. Well I was almost in tears writing this one. But there is smut at the end. I hope you like it, and I will see you at the other side.

Word Count: 3.8k (part 4) there will be more parts to come.

A few things to note before you jump in (as this might not be your cup of tea): * Hyunjin (aka Hyuna) and Lino (aka Lina) are female characters in this story (and one of them will be involved in sex). * There is cheating on partners. * There is manipulation and abuse of authority. * Female reader is an adult (in case you were worried)

Warnings: NSFW // Female Lee Minho // Female Hyunjin // cheating on partners // emotional turmoil // unprotected sex // pet names // sub dom undertones // pregnancy // mentions of adoption // breeding kink //

-----------------------------

Lina:

When Lina married Seungmin she thought she was going to have a life filled with passion and excitement, and although Seungmin was a kind man who did all the the things that a husband “should”, she felt like his heart was never fully in it. She couldn’t really blame him though. The marriage was arranged, but somewhere inside her she harboured the hope that he might grow to love her.

She thought if she had a baby that might bring them closer together and give them a shared purpose, but she couldn’t seem to get pregnant. She felt like she failed him as a wife.

Lina had met Seungmin’s brother only a handful of times. He was friendly and kind, and went out his way to make her feel comfortable at family gatherings. Lina felt seen and important when Han was around her. She didn’t read too much into it, he was friendly to everyone. But as much as Han made other people feel comfortable and free to be themselves, Lina could tell he was lonely. She could tell that there was some self doubt in his eyes. He seemed a little sad. Maybe he felt like her? She went out of her way to be friends with him. One Lina’s favourite things to do for Han was cook for him.

The first time Han slept with her she was so shy and scared, but the way he was so hungry for her set her on fire. He wanted to look into her eyes, he wanted to make her orgasm, he wanted to give every inch of her skin attention. The things he said to her were graphic and naughty, but also tender and sweet.

Seungmin only wanted to have sex in the dark. Clinical. Get it done and out of the way. She was sure he only slept with her because that’s what married couples were supposed to do.

But with Han she had some kind of sexual awakening. She discovered things about herself, things she enjoyed, kinks even, that she would have never dreamed of with Seungmin. Over time she got brave and suggested naughty, filthy things for her and Han to try. She learned she loved to restrain Han and fuck his brains out. She loved how needy he would get when they didn’t spend enough time together. Han made her feel like a queen.

When you started working at Han’s, Lina felt a new feeling she couldn’t quite explain. She didn’t know she’d have feelings for a woman. By now Lina had developed a lot of self confidence sexually and she couldn’t help but experiment in flirting with you. She didn’t want to think of you as an experiment, but more an opportunity to explore the possibilities. Han was always talking about how he didn’t understand why we are taught that we can only love one person at at time. She had never believed him when he said this, because to Lina, she only really loved him. She cared for Seungmin, and she loved him as family, but passionate love? She’d only felt that way about Han.

Until she met you. And when she had both you and Han at the same time, well, she’d never felt more alive.

But there was still something missing from her life. She’d wanted a child so badly, and she hoped with all the sex with Han maybe she’d fall pregnant. She never did. When she found out about your pregnancy, and that you might not keep it, there was little spark of hope inside her heart. Maybe she’d have the chance to become a mother, and Seungmin a father, and she’d feel complete.

Han:

Han tried so hard to make Hyuna fall in love with him. He swore she thought he was a desperate fool. She made him so nervous. She was beautiful and so elegant that he would stumble on his words. The best he could do to share his feeling was by writing her songs and giving her flowers. She’d roll her eyes, but she’d smile. It was his favourite thing about her, the eye roll and smile.

Han was an eager and passionate man, but Hyuna didn’t seem to be as keen as him for sexual exploration, or even anything other than vanilla sex once a week. He would have been okay with that if he thought she loved him. She was fine with him watching all the porn in the world, but she wasn’t interested in watching it with him. She had sex toys, but other than using a bullet vibrator on her clit, he wasn’t allowed to use them on her. He couldn’t understand where he was going wrong? He wanted to please her, but it was like she didn’t want him to. Was there something wrong with him?

For years he felt lonely. He was at home by himself most of the time, and after some time he found himself thinking about Seungmin’s wife a lot. Lina. Han loved the way Lina would look at him. It was like he could relax and be himself. Sure he’d feel his heart rate increase and his behaviour around her would resemble a nervous, jittery fool. But that nervous inner chatter he felt when he was around Hyuna? He didn’t feel that with Lina. With her he felt pulled to her, like he was finding his way home.

Then one day when Hyuna and the children were away, Lina wanted to come over and cook a few meals for him. He remembered it clearly, like it was yesterday. She was standing in the kitchen stirring some batter for a dessert when he slipped in alongside her.

“This looks like it’ll taste delicious.” He’d said. He wasn’t referring to the mixture though. He was referring to her body. He didn’t miss Lina’s hand pause for a moment, or the way her cheeks flushed crimson red. It excited him. “Lina?” He whispered close to her ear. “Would it be okay if I stood this close to you?” He slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head over shoulder. Her hand stilled. She was flustered, he could tell. He could never fluster Hyuna.

“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Can I kiss you?” He held his breath waiting, hoping she’d say yes.

She unwrapped his hands from around her waist and Han felt panic and rejection surge inside of him. But all Lina did was turn around to face him and look into his eyes expectantly.

“Yes.” She said. In that moment everything changed for them. Han was on her fast and with an urgency neither of them had experienced before. He lifted her up and carried her to the spare bedroom off the kitchen and threw her down on the bed, kissing her like he hadn’t kissed a woman in a decade. “Tell me you want this as much as I do, baby.” He gripped her hips lifting them to press against his erection. “Please let me fuck you.” He said boldly. Yes, he’d escalated things quickly with such a brazen request, but he needed Lina like his life depended on it.

Lina’s eyes widened. “Oh, Han! Yes! But…but I’m… I’m scared.” Han lifted himself up and looked her in the eyes. “Baby, please don’t be scared. I only want to make you feel good.”

“Maybe… we should turn the lights off?” She stuttered. Han was taken aback.

“O-okay. But I really would prefer to see everything. I want to memorise every inch of your body.” His hand slid up to her cheek. “If that’s alright with you.”

Lina bit her lip and nodded. “Okay.” She sounded unsure about being so exposed and vulnerable, but Han was determined to take her to the stars.

----------------------------------

It was the end of the day and you were sitting in the bath in your en-suite bathroom looking down at your growing abdomen. You rubbed your hand over the bulge on your stomach feeling the tight, smooth skin. How were you already halfway through this pregnancy? You’d just been to your twenty one week ultrasound where you were relieved to learn your baby was growing well.

“Can you tell what the sex is?” you asked the sonographer.

“Well, from what I can’t see here, it looks like you are having a little girl.”

A girl. Seeing her on the screen made everything seem so much more real. Her head, arms and legs. Hearing her heartbeat almost brought tears to your eyes.

You’d gone to the appointment with Lina. It was too risky to take Han, but Lina was able to meet you at the clinic easily enough. You could see the pure joy in her eyes when she saw the ultrasound, and you felt happy for her, but also, deep down, you were envious. You tried to push those feelings down and ignore them.

“We’re having a baby girl?” Han was beyond elated when you and Lina shared the news. He jumped up and down, spun you around, then spun Lina around. Then he sat down and cried staring at the little printout of the ultrasound. He looked up at you with tears streaming down his face. “I’m having a little girl.” It was like he couldn’t believe it. Your heart ached for him.

You poured some water over your stomach. “It’s all going to be okay little one.” You said to your bump that was poking out of the bathwater. “You’re going to be born soon and you’re going to be loved so much. You’ll grow up with a loving mother and kind father, and grow into the most incredible person.”

You had been talking to your baby a lot lately. Telling her stories about yourself, and how she was made out of a special, secret love.

“You won’t know me as your Mama, after you’re born. But I will be nearby, watching you grow. Seeing you learn to walk, hearing saying your first words.” You stroked your tummy and tears spilled from your eyes. “You won’t know your real Daddy either, but we will love you so much, little one. For now I am so happy that while your inside me, he and I get to be your parents, even if it’s just for a few more months.”

You were overcome with such a sadness that you broke down and sobbed. Loud, uncontrollable sobs. You wanted to hold onto this pregnancy for as long as possible. You wanted time to slow down. You wanted to keep your baby. That’s what you wanted if you were really honest with yourself.

Your sobs grew louder and you didn’t notice someone enter your bathroom. “Sweetheart?” she sounded shocked.

Your eyes shot up to where Hyuna stood. Her eyes fixed on your stomach. You quickly pulled your knees up to hide your bump but it was too late.

Hyuna met your eyes and her face softened when she saw how distressed you were.

“Oh petal.” She said softly and came to kneel at the side of the bath. She wrapped her arms around you and held you close as you continued to sob loudly.

“I’m so sorry.” You cried over and over again.

“Shh. It’s okay, little flower.” She stroked your hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

You pulled away and looked at her. “I know I should have told you sooner.” You stuttered through sobs.

“I knew you’d tell me in your own time. But I couldn’t not come in when I heard you crying like this.” She soothed.

You were taken by surprise. “You already knew?”

Hyuna nodded. “I know a pregnant woman when I see one.”

“How long have you known?”

Hyuna chuckled. “I suspected when you were getting nausea. Then the boobs. Then your choice of clothing changed.” She said like it was the simplest of observations. If she knew that what else did she know?

“Here, let me help wash you.” She grabbed the washcloth and soap and started to gently soap up your arms.

You tried to read her expression. Even in a moment like this she still seemed so calm. You sat in silence, thinking about what you should say. “It’s a girl.” You whispered eventually.

“Ah, a little princess.” Hyuna smiled. “Han would have been over the moon when you told him.”

Your eyes widened. She did know. But she didn’t seem angry. You opened your mouth but you were too scared to speak. “I’m sorry.” you choked. It was all that you could manage.

“It’s alright, petal.” She stopped washing you for a moment as if deep in thought, then gathered more soap to moved on to wash your legs.

“You’re not angry?” you asked in disbelief.

She shook her head. “No.” she said softly. She gestured to your stomach. “Can I?” You leaned back, making space for her to squeeze warm water over your bump. “I’m not angry. I’m glad Han finally has a chance to be fath-” She stopped mid sentence and looked into your eyes like she hoped you hadn’t heard her. She saw the shock on your face, and knew she’d been caught out.

“Han’s not the boys’ father?” you asked. That was absurd. Of course Han was their father.

Hyuna sighed and shook her head. “No.” She bit her lip as if trying to decide whether to elaborate. Why would Hyuna confide in you? You were having her husband’s baby. But her babies weren’t her husband’s.

There was a long silence.

“When I was young, before I married Han, there was another man. We were dating, but no one knew about it. He was my first love. He is my only love. He’s the father of Binnie and Chan.” She said solemnly.

“Then why did you marry Han if you were in love with someone else?” you were confused.

“Business. Money. Decisions outside of love. Decisions that were out of our hands.” She shrugged.

Oh. Your heart ached. “So what happened to this love?” he must have been still in the picture recently, Channie was only two.

“He’s married to another as well. Also arranged. To Lina.”

Seungmin? Hyuna and Seungmin?

“Seungmin’s your love? Suengmin’s the boys’ father? Does he know they’re his?” you held your hand up to your mouth to stop yourself speaking. This was not your business, and Hyuna certainly didn’t owe you any explanation. “I’m sorry, I’m the last person who should be asking these questions.”

“He knows.” She whispered.

“How does he cope? The boys think he’s their uncle.”

“It kills him. But the lie has gone on so long how could we ever tell the truth? Actually, you’re the first person to learn about suengmin and I.” She said.

“Why are you telling me so much? You should hate me.” you wondered.

“So you know you’re not alone. So you know that there are others close by that know what if feels like to be caught up in something forbidden.”

“I’m giving the baby up to Lina and Seungmin.” You said out of nowhere.

Hyuna paused in thought. “Lina has always wanted to be a mother. She’ll look after your little princess well. But just make sure this is what you want too. I’m lucky, my boys know I am their mother, but Seungmin, I hurt for him. It’s going to be hard for you and Han to have your child not know who you really are. But know, my sweet little flower, that we’ll look after you, whatever you choose to do.”

“Doesn’t the lie eat at you?” you asked.

“It is eating at us, but as far as me a Seungmin are concerned, we had our dreams, our future, stolen from us. We have resentment eating at us. I just hope you won’t have resentment eat at you.” She said looking at the water with a sadness you had never seen from her.

“Do you love Han?” you really wanted to know how she felt about her husband.

She shook her head. “Only like family. I’m not in love with him.”

“He loves you.” You said.

“Han might love me but not like he loves you and Lina.”

“You know about Lina?”

Hyuna laughed loudly this time. “Of course. They are the worst at keeping secrets!”

“Why did you try to call him out on cheating, but never outrightly approach him?”

“I wanted him to get better at hiding his affair. He was sloppy.” She shrugged.

“When did you know about Han and me?” you were seriously interested with the answer to this question. You wanted to know what gave you away.

“When he kept sneaking out of bed and you ended up pregnant. It just made sense.”

“So you and Seungmin have kept your entire relationship hidden for over a decade, and Han and Lina, and now me, couldn’t even keep things secret for five minutes?”

Hyuna nodded. “Like I said, sloppy.”

It was almost comical if the whole thing hadn’t been so tragic.

“Hey,” Hyuna smiled brightly. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“Can I take pregnancy photos of you? You know, like artistic photo shoots of your growing belly? A keepsake for you?”

“Really?” you hadn’t even thought about taking progress photos, save for a few crappy mirror selfies.

“Mmm, and I’d really love to paint a portrait of you too when you’re bigger. If you’ll let me.”

You looked down at your belly. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me.”

“Is that a yes?” Hyuna searched your face.

You nodded and smiled. “It’s a yes.”

Hyuna helped you out of the bath, brought you a hot chocolate and tucked you into bed.

“I promise everything will be okay, petal. I’m going to go to bed now but Han will with you soon.”

She kissed your cheek and turned out your light as she left.

Although you seemed to still be coming to terms with giving up your baby, you were feeling overwhelmed with love and support from the people around you. Hyuna, of all people, was seemingly the most understanding and supportive of everyone. To have her approval, despite knowing who the father was, made you feel less ashamed of yourself. Hyuna even wanted to help you create some memories for you and your unborn baby. Somehow in this crazy, messed up situation, Hyuna understood you the most.

Hyuna was right, Han did come to you shortly after. He slipped into bed and spooned you. “How are my girls?” he snuggled in and wrapped his arms around your stomach.

Your mind thought about Seungmin. Did he ever lay snuggled up to Hyuna with his arm wrapped around her swollen stomach like this? Did he lay there wishing with everything he had that her baby could call him Daddy?

You wondered if Hyuna shared her story with you to give you a chance to choose differently? But what about Lina? You couldn’t just break her heart like that.

You rolled over to face Han. What did Han’s heart want? Was he content with your decision?

“Hannie?” You rubbed your thumb along his lower lip.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He threaded his fingers through yours and kissed your hand softly.

“I mean like really, really love you.” You added and pushed him onto his back and straddling him.

“Oh!” You could see him grin in the moonlight. “Feeling a little frisky tonight, hmm?”

You smirked. “Let me take care of you Hannie. I wanna make you feel good.” You couldn’t make this situation better, but you could give him all the love in the world.

He was already naked, he never slipped into your bed wearing clothes, and you had already shimmied your panties off before he arrived. You rolled your hips so you could feel the length of his cock rub against your core. Fuck, it felt so good.

“Baby, you look like a goddess, you know that right?” he moaned, pushing his hips against you.

“Can I fuck you, Han?” you said low and measured.

“Baby,” he said excitedly. “Please. Please fuck me. I wanna feel you around my cock.” He was already so needy. You leaned down and kissed him hungrily, letting yourself savour his the taste of his lips. For the first time you didn’t feel that feeling of guilt of cheating on Hyuna that normally hung over you. You didn’t know it had been weighing you down as much as it had. You suddenly realised you always had this sick niggle in your gut that you might get caught fucking each other.

But now there was no one to catch you. You channeled this newfound freedom into the way you moved above Han. Confident and immersed in the moment. You lined yourself up with his cock, and sank down slowly, relishing the slow stretch and the feeling of fullness as you met his pelvis. Han’s hands immediately came up to grip your hips, firm, but not as aggressive as he usually was. He was letting you set the pace. You glided up and down his length, throwing your head back and caressing your breasts and stomach.

“Do I look sexy pregnant?” You purred.

“Oh god, yes. It’s like you were put in this earth to have my baby.” He squeezed your breast with one hand and dragged it down over your swollen abdomen. “ I can’t wait until you grow even bigger. You make me want to keep you pregnant all the time. After you have this one, I wanna filled you up with my cum constantly, get you pregnant over and over.“

You’d missed his graphic words, he’d been speaking to you so gentle and considerate for weeks, and all you wanted was that devious, horny, feral side to him.

You rocked on him harder and faster. “Touch my clit, Hannie, make me cum. I need you to make me cum.”

He reached down and applied pressure to your sensitive clit and you immediately picked up the intensity, bouncing up and down on his cock. “That’s it, baby. Come undone on me. Make a mess all over my cock… Ngh… yes … that’s it…fuck… I’m gonna cum.”

“I’m coming, Han… fuck… don’t stop… ahhh” you threw your head back as you came, at the same time you felt Han’s hot seed paint your insides. “That’s it, baby milk it all out of me.” He said as he thrust the last of his cum into you. “Look at you. Such a good girl taking every last drop.”

You were exhausted after that, sliding off of him and catching your breath. Han rolled over. “I wanna have like ten kids with you.” He kissed you then went to get a warm cloth to clean you up. He laid by your side until you fell asleep, then he left your room quietly.

For the first time in months you slept through the night.

-------------

Read Part 5 here

Taglist: if you would like to be on the taglist for this series please reply to the post HERE

@lyramundana @channieandhisgoonsquad @2chopsticks2eyes @queenmea604 @noellllslut

@leeknowsthigh @chlodavids @antoniorhinothethird @bangtanmix73 @linocvp1d @sunshinesquokka

#skz fanfic #skz smut #han jisung smut #lee know smut #han jisung x reader #skz family

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bluelancess · 10 months ago

Text

Midnight Blooms | Elriel AU

Chapter masterlist

Sports romance, college AU.

Summary: When Elain is told by her father, a ruthless politician, that she is to marry the son of one of his closest friends, Lucien Vanserra, to assure her father’s win on the next election, she has no other choice but to agree. What she never expected was her convictions being tested by a tall, devastatingly beautiful black-haired hockey player who moved in right next door. And if there was one thing Elain was certain of, was that Azriel posed a dangerous threat to the previously dormant desires roaming inside her. And she needed to stay far, far away from him.

Tags: forbidden love, arranged marriage, forced proximity, modern setting, slow burn

Chapter list:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

————————

to be updated as the story progresses.

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #pro elain #azriel x elain #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #elriel AU #elriel fanfiction

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year ago

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Winter pt. 2 | JJK

Hello darlings!!!

Pairing: royal guard!Jungkook x princess!Reader, prince!Jimin x princess!Reader (ft. Yoongi & Hoseok)

Summary: In which you, princess of the Gyeongdong Dynasty, were in the middle of wedding plans. An arranged marriage that would guarantee your father's bloodline to stay on the throne.

Or in which you are assigned a new royal guard that swore to protect you with his life. Jeon Jungkook. That's his name. A name you could never forget. A name that, slowly but surely got engraved not only on your memories but also in your heart.

Love, politics, betrayal and desire. All in ancient history. A love that never should have happened, two souls that wouldn't be allowed to be together.

Warnings: angst, fluff, implied smut, pregnancy, descriptions of delivery, pregnancy complications, arranged marriage, blood, character death, heartache, yearning, forbidden love, more angst, Jimin is a sweetheart, heartbreak, fainting, heart disease, Jungkook writes poetry, funeral, mentions of reincarnation, ANGST (WARNINGS APPLY TO BOTH PARTS!) (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 13, 152k words

A/N Hi, darlings! It's been so long since I posted Autumn for you guys and I am so terribly sorry for the months wait. I really hope you will like this third part of "Four Seasons"!

I've been working on this for months now but lately I've found new inspiration to finally finish this and trust me, it will be a total roller coaster! Thank you so much to the people who commented on the other two parts as they all gave me such motivation to return to this story!

A/N I had to divide Winter into two parts because apparently Tumblr doesn't like to have too much paragraphs in one post! The two parts of this long chapter are linked on the masterpost of this series! Please let me know what you thought of this part, I really hope you will like it and it leaves you yearning for more! Without entertaining you further, happy reading, everyone!

💜 Boraghae ARMY 💜

~Taglist for Four Season: @valhallawhispers @lovingkoalaface @seokout @ackercute @jksusawife

Isn't it beautiful how the seasons change?

Isn't it beautiful how you never do?

For you are that summer flower I once saw.

Dressed in delicate petals of love.

You are the snow that freezes my heart.

You are the soft breeze on an autumn day.

My sun during summer and my flower during spring.

But I cannot touch you. I cannot hold you like my soul wishes to do.

My darling. My love. My woman. My soul.

What did I do to not have you by my side?

Is love a crime?

Then I am a criminal, even when it was you who stole my heart.

I miss you. I want you. I need you.

I cannot breathe without you near me.

I prefer death than a fate where we can't be together.

My moon. My sun. My Queen. Owner of my being.

Jungkook jumped in his seat when the door to his room slid open. He placed his brush aside before standing up to face Hoseok.

"The Queen requests your presence in her chambers, Jungkook."

The younger man nodded and placed his papers in order before he left his room following Hoseok through the large corridors of the palace.

It has been three days since you gave birth to Prince Ha-joon. Three agonising days in which he hadn't seen a glimpse of your existence. And it was killing him. His memories of you were too far to grasp and take console in them.

Jungkook didn't recall having to walk all the way from his room to your personal chambers. He didn't remember when Hoseok announced his presence, for he was brought to reality when you spoke his name. Your voice being the only thing that could bring him back from his thoughts.

His eyes met your own in a dance of emotions that he had to clasp his hands in front of him to stop them from shaking.

"You called for me, Your Majesty."

He bowed down at you and you sighed, realising how much you hated when he bowed at you when you'd go on your knees with only a word falling from his lips. He had that power over you. That way to command you. To make you feel.

"Jungkook."

The man before you lifted his gaze and your eyes met his once more. Had it been within any other circumstances, you'd have smiled and ran toward him. How you wish you could embrace him, how you wish you could kiss him and declare your love for him. How you wish you could love him freely.

You were sitting between blankets and cushions, taking rest after the hard labour. The prince lied next to you as he slept soundly while being wrapped up in luxurious fabric.

"I haven't seen you in a while."

He smiled. Not that smile that reached his eyes or that warmed your insides. It made you shiver with the sadness within it. Like a cold breeze on a winter day.

"I was told you were to rest, my Queen. Captain Min ordered me to give you some space, at least until you are feeling better."

You smiled, gesturing for him to sit in front of you, which he did. A moment of silence passed between you both. Your gaze lingered on his handsome features, drawing a map of him in your mind.

"I missed you."

He sighed at your whispered confession. Those words clawed at his heart with nothing but a heavy guilt that existed within him.

"My Queen... please."

You took a deep breath at his pleading, his begging. You looked aside as your heart constricted in your chest.

"Forgive me."

He looked at you with eyes full of emotions you weren't quick enough to grasp. Why must love hurt so much? Jungkook shifted his gaze from your figure, focusing on the little bundle where the prince, your son, slept peacefully.

"Congratulations on your baby. May prince Ha-joon live a long and happy life with his family."

His words weren't cruel, you should have thanked him for his blessings but it only caused you bitterness. Because Jungkook wasn't a part of that family. You had made your life without him and that realisation sank within the caves of your soul in that moment.

All those times you had dreamed, wished, pleaded and imagined your future, Jungkook was always in the picture. He always stood next to you. But fate was a cruel force. That was only a dream. Your reality was different from what you had once wished and still desired deep in your heart.

A life with him. An opportunity to love. For him. For you. To love Jungkook.

"Thank you."

Those words left your lips in a soft whisper. Afraid of speaking any louder, afraid of facing reality once more. There existed enough pain in your life, you didn't want to add salt to the wound but it kept happening. Every time you saw Jungkook you were reminded of your love for him and that distant dream of the future you once saw yourself dancing in.

Life in the palace continued. The days passed, weeks turned into months, months turned into years as the seasons changed. Time was frozen while it escaped at the same time. It made you remember, it made you forget. It made Jungkook let go, it made him yearn.

He guarded you, protected you like he had vowed to. You smiled in your solitude, dreamed in your agony.

Petal of a yielding flower.

Host of my mind.

Lover of a taken heart.

Queen of my life.

I see my universe in your eyes.

Life is not fair,

but neither is death.

For I live in a world of lies.

I own you my smiles,

my tears are yours to be held.

And when I wish my time would end,

I remember what it was to love such beauty on this earth.

My sunrise. My light. My dusk. My night.

Cradle me in your embrace.

Let me live in your heart.

Grant this wish to this poor man.

Or end my life;

for in death shall I find peace from this cruel destiny.

Jungkook sat against a tree, watching you from afar. Your baby boy just turned two years old this summer. Now it was autumn. The leaves were dying, the air was cooler but his love for you still existed in his heart.

You were with Jimin, the both of you were in the garden playing with Ha-joon. Jungkook saw you smile and laugh from where he stood. The jealousy and bitterness he once felt toward the king had melted like ice on a summer day. His soul was filled with the remnants of his feelings. A melancholy lived inside him about the "what if's" of his life, of what had happened.

Jimin had taken some time from his busy schedule to spend it with his little family. He loved seeing you smile, he was happy at that moment. Everything was perfect. Everything was like he had once imagined it to be. His son was already walking around, a bit clumsy but he was too cute to not stare at the little prince.

Ha-joon had your eyes, he had his father's lips as well. He was a really cute combination of his parents who loved the little boy too much.

You watched as Jimin lifted Ha-joon before the both of them fell into a pile of dry leaves. You chuckled, crouching down on the ground after having been running around the place. You panted with a soft smile on your face, printing the image in front of you into your mind forever.

Your husband picked up the little boy in his arms before walking back to where you were. He offered you his hand and you took it as you stood up from the ground.

"Are you fairing, My Queen?"

He asked, a bit of concern behind his words. You nodded, brushing your skirt with delicate movements.

"Yes, I'm just tired of running all around the garden."

Jimin chuckled, looking down at Ha-joon who clung to his neck, also tired after playing for some time now.

"Let's get back then."

His hand grabbed yours as he began to lead you back to the small tent in the garden where a table with fruits and tea rested. It was near a large tree where Jungkook stood writing his poems with words carried by the wind. He saw how the king began to approach and put down his papers and brush before standing up.

He bowed when you and Jimin entered the tent. Your husband handed Ha-joon to one of the damsels with care and soft delicacy.

"Put him to sleep, he's tired."

The young woman nodded, taking the little prince from the king's hold before she left with your son in her arms. You sat down on the soft cushions with Jimin by your side, he poured you a cup of tea with elegance. Just like he had done many moons ago when he was only your fiance.

You thanked him with a soft smile, taking the cup as your fingers brushed his with the motion. Jungkook watched as you took a sip of the hot beverage, his eyes travelled down your profile, taking in how beautiful you looked at that exact moment. Not that you had ever looked ugly to his eyes, but in that precise fragment of time, you looked ethereal. Mesmerizingly beautiful. He didn't have enough words to describe your beauty at that moment.

Jimin was about to take a sip from his own cup of tea when Captain Yoongi came jogging toward the tent. He bowed down at you two before speaking, his voice laced with urgency.

"My king, may I have a quick word with you?"

Your husband sighed silently, putting his cup down on the table before standing up. He glanced down at you for a second only to then walk away with Yoongi by his side. You saw how they discussed something in the distance but you couldn't tell what it was as they were both out of earshot.

You let out a deep breath, putting your own cup next to Jimin's before you looked up at Jungkook.

"Do you want some tea, Jungkook?"

Your question brought him back to reality as he savoured the way his name sounded on your lips. It was the sweetest melody he had ever heard.

But he shook his head. Not allowed to show any emotion on his features.

"No, thank you, My Queen."

The response he gave you sounded dry and it made your heart clench with desire.

"Are you alright? You've been... distant as of lately."

He looked down at you but this time, you didn't see the storms of emotions hidden in his doe eyes. You didn't see anything. And it pained you to know that perhaps he didn't love you anymore. Because you still did. With all your heart.

"I am merely doing my job, Your Majesty."

You wanted so bad to reach up to him and hold his hand, to feel him. For him to ease your chaotic heart.

"Then don't. Please, Jungkook, do not distance yourself from me."

He sighed. It didn't matter how much distance he put between you both, if it were in words or even an ocean in the middle of you two. You always managed to pull him back.

"I have to, My Queen. Otherwise, I won't be able to resist the temptation. I could harm you. I could burn you with the flames of my love. I could destroy the life you have now. I could taint you with my carnal desires. I could do things... unforgivable things and the only wish I have in this life is for you to not be harmed. And for that to happen, I must put distance between us, even when my heart screams your name."

Your eyes filled with tears at his confession. At the revelation of his heart, his desires, his yearning for you. He still loved you, he still wanted you. He would always be yours.

"My heart is yours as well. Do not deny me the pleasure of existing next to you. Your existence is more than enough to soothe my wounded soul, Jungkook."

He bowed at you softly, eyes glazed with his own tears as emotions swirled once more in his dark orbs.

Jimin began walking back and you had to blink back the tears in your eyes. You distracted yourself with your cup of tea as he sat down next to you again.

"What happened? Captain Min looked serious while talking to you."

He smiled at you, eyes closing with the action before answering. His voice was soft and calm, like a summer breeze.

"Nothing to worry you about, Queen of my heart."

You sent him a tight smile, placing the cup on the table. Not feeling in the mood of drinking more tea.

"(y/n), you're bleeding."

Jimin said, causing Jungkook to look at you alarmed as you felt something trailing down your nose. You wiped it only to see that your fingers were painted in crimson. You wiped again and again but the blood continued to flow.

Your husband grabbed a soft handkerchief and pressed it to your nose.

"It's nothing. I probably ran too fast while playing in the garden.

But the king wasn't tranquil with your response. He felt something, as if words were whispered in his ear to not let it be unattended.

"I'll call for a physician."

Your hand grabbed his, something Jungkook didn't miss from where he stood. He watched your tangled hands with your marriage rings on your finger as you stopped your husband from getting up.

"I'm fine, Jimin. I promise. This has happened to me since I was a child. Don't worry, please."

That seemed to calm him down a bit as he settled back on his seat next to you. Holding his handkerchief below your nose as the bleeding began to stop gradually.

"Be careful, alright?"

You nodded at his words, your eyes shifted momentarily to Jungkook's wide gaze and you tried to reassure him as best as you could without a word leaving your lips.

The days were colder with the arrival of winter. Such beauty fell from the grey skies, a beauty that burns with ice.

Jungkook was reminded of your wedding day as he strolled down one of the corridors. The weather, such coldness invaded his mind, his thoughts, his heart; just like that day. When he witnessed you become the wife of another man. When he watched you lose your freedom and your life changed forever.

A feeling of melancholy suddenly invaded his heart, squeezing it with the cold claws of fate.

He took a turn, his mind lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the voices in the hallway. Jungkook felt how something suddenly crashed into his legs and he was quick to react and grab the hand of the little boy who was running absentmindedly. The little boy who was your son. The prince of the dynasty.

Ha-joon looked up and Jungkook saw his resemblance to you. He had your eyes. He smiled softly to the boy until Hoseok came jogging to where they stood.

"My prince, come on. Don't run away like that again."

Hoseok said, his eyes trained on the little prince who looked at him and then shifted his gaze back to Jungkook. The younger man let go of the kid's hand and Hoseok was quick to pick him up.

"He's a handful sometimes."

Jungkook chuckled, remembering those summer days when you walked in freedom through the gardens. He saw you in your son as memories swam in his hand.

"I can imagine. Kids at his age are always curious and full of energy."

Hoseok let out a soft laugh, looking at Ha-joon in his arms and also seeing the resemblance of you in him.

"Thanks, Jungkook. He suddenly ran away from me."

"It's no problem. Take care of him, Hoseok."

The older man nodded before he turned around and walked back down the corridor.

"Kook!"

The little prince exclaimed with a wide smile, his lips were plump like his father's and his cheeks puffed out cutely with the motion. Jungkook smiled and waved at the prince who waved back with his little hand before disappearing around the corner in the arms of Hoseok.

He sighed. Once more being left alone with his cold thoughts on a winter day. With frozen hopes and a blurred future.

You were in your room watching how the snowflakes fell slowly to the gardens. Your embroidery was left forgotten on your lap as your mind got lost in your memories.

A knock in your door interrupted your train of thought. You cleared your throat and straightened your posture before saying in a steady voice.

"Come in"

The door slid open and Hoseok entered with Ha-joon in his arms. You smiled at the sight of your child and your best friend set the toddler down as he ran clumsily towards you.

"Mummy!"

You hugged the little prince when he crashed into you and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. He was too cute to resist. He began playing with your embroidery as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, tracing his little fingers over the drawings.

"My Queen, the little prince is very eager to explore the palace. Do you want to take him to the gardens and let him play in the snow? Maybe that'd tire him out a bit so that he can sleep soundly tonight."

Your hand caressed your son's dark hair, taking in its softness before you turned your focus back to Hoseok.

"I'm tired, Hobi. I don't think I'd be able to run around in the gardens."

He nodded, eyes shifting to Ha-joon whose world now rotated around your elegant embroidery.

"Do you allow me to speak freely, Your Majesty?"

You nodded at him.

"Of course, I've told you many times that you do not need to ask for such a thing. You are my best friend."

He smiled lovingly.

"Those words are simple formalities, my Queen, but what I wanted to say was that maybe you could accompany us to the gardens. Have some fresh air. I can play with the little prince, but he misses his mother."

You smiled, looking down at Ha-joon who returned your gaze with big eyes.

"Alright then, hand me my coat please and tell one of the damsels to dress the prince warmly."

You stood under the palace roof, a heavy coat over your shoulders as you sipped on some hot tea while watching Hoseok play in the snow with little Ha-joon. A soft smile graced your lips at the sight and the sound of your little boy's giggles.

A shiver ran down your spine when a cold breeze blew your way, strands of hair flying with the wind. Hobi let himself fall on the snow with a dramatic yell, making you laugh as Ha-joon went to lay on his chest.

"Up, up."

The prince said, trying to get Hoseok to stand up and pick him up but the man layed there panting softly.

"I'm tired, my prince. Hold on."

You watched them both fondly, your eyes lowered to the tea in your cup until you felt how your heart skipped a beat.

"Kook!"

Ha-joon had said. Your hands felt cold against the warm cup, your soul froze when you looked up. There he was. Jeon Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in days. And before today there were only small peaks here and there followed by short greetings.

Jungkook turned to look at you, your eyes met his from across the garden. You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mere sight of him. Your hands trembled around the cup, forcing you to put it away.

He bowed down at you slowly yet his eyes never left yours. Emotions invaded your body as you stood up from your chair. Hoseok noticed your actions and sat up, Ha-joon left his side and ran with his little legs where Jungkook was.

Your royal guard smiled down at your son and Hoseok stood up from the ground, walking the steps to where you stood.

"Your Majesty, are you alright? You look pale, should I walk you to your chambers?"

But you shook your head, your eyes following Jungkook's figure as he approached you with Ha-joon by his side. The little prince was telling him something that you couldn't hear and he smiled widely. Flashed him that bunny smile you loved so much and had missed just as fiercely.

Jungkook bowed down at you once he stood in front of you. Ha-joon looked up at the man next to him and mimicked his actions. Your heart clenched at the sight. Having the man you loved and your child who was your husband's son before you was too much for your heart.

It clenched inside you, it burned, it ached.

"Your Majesty."

Jungkook acknowledged you. You nodded softly at him and he rose to his full height. Ha-joon doing the same.

"Kook! Play, together."

Hoseok watched the interaction from where he stood. His own heart clenched at the sight of your hidden pain. You have always been an open book for your best friend. You had been able to hide your love from your father, even from your husband but not from Hoseok. He had known you for his entire life. He knew you, he knew the core of your heart. He knew your unspoken words. He knew.

"Only if the queen allows it, my prince."

Jungkook's eyes found yours once more. A sad smile painted his lips. Ha-joon was a clear resemblance of you but also of his father and Jungkook was reminded once more of what he had lost the day you married Jimin. Of that dream that he wished would become his reality was instead a mountain of ashes. Of burnt dreams and wishes.

You smiled tightly at the pair in front of you, not wanting to deny sweet Ha-joon of his free days and innocent happiness.

"You may play, but please be careful."

Jungkook bowed down and your little son once more mimicked him with a sweet giggle that would have made you smile had you been in another circumstance. Ha-joon's small hand curled around Jungkook's fingers as he "dragged" him further into the garden. The man clearly gives in to the desires of the child. Not without glancing your way one more time.

You took a deep breath when they were both far away from you. As if you were suddenly able to breathe when he was not near you but playing in the snow as the giggles of your prince were heard. You blinked back the tears that had gathered in your eyes, you wouldn't cry now. It was not the time for that.

"My Queen, please take a seat."

You refused Hoseok's suggestion with a shake of your head. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn't tear your gaze away from Jungkook and Ha-joon playing together.

If only fate had been different.

If only you hadn't been a princess.

If only your story was written with another ending.

Then the scene before you would have been a happy one. But Jungkook was not the father of your child and you didn't want to question your fate with Jimin. It wouldn't be fair to him when he loves you just as ardently as you love Jungkook.

Time slipped from your fingers like water from a river. Cold to the touch. Liquid to the memory. You watched them play and laugh while your heart teared apart within you.

Soft footsteps were heard from your left but you didn't shift your gaze from your giggling little prince.

"My Queen,"

The voice of one of your damsels spoke and you didn't have to look at her to know she was bowing down at you.

"His Majesty requests your presence in the Main Hall."

You took a deep breath, the cold air of winter burned your lungs with the motion but despite the action, you still felt as if you were being suffocated.

"Queen (y/n)."

Your eyes met the worried gazed of Hoseok as uncertainty painted his dark orbs.

"It's alright, take care of Ha-joon for me."

Hoseok bowed down at you as you straightened up your posture and looked at Ha-joon and Jungkook for a moment before you forced yourself to walk away. You weren't aware of the concerned look your best friend gave you nor the longing gaze Jungkook sent your way.

He watched you walk away and despite all the times he had witnessed the same sight, his heart still clenched upon seeing you leaving him behind.

You didn't look back. You couldn't. Your heart wouldn't be able to take it. Each step you took forward hurt like an arrow piercing your heart over and over again. You closed your eyes, taking in the pain in your chest.

Fate gave you the cruellest gift you had ever received. A glimpse of your dream life only to be shattered by reality like ice against a wall. It hurt. Your hands trembled even when you clasped them in front of you to keep them warm. It was useless.

You lived in an eternal winter. Your heart was frozen, your soul had crumbled to a pile of white snow tainted with the ashes of your dreams. It was fair. But life has never been fair to you. To anyone, actually.

But you weren't a victim here. Not anymore. If fate didn't want you and Jungkook together, you'd fight in each and every lifetime to meet with him again and complete your story next to him. You owned it to him, to his love, his devotion. His innocent heart that carried the purest love within him.

Tears clouded your vision and a lump grew in your throat. You weren't a victim, but that didn't mean you couldn't cry about your misfortunes.

The tears began rolling down your cheeks, feeling how your heart ached for a man who would never be yours and a future you couldn't live.

You had to cover your mouth to quiet the sobs that threatened to spill from your lips. For it had been too much for your soul to endure. You had gotten to your breaking point, the point of no-return. It hurt. The mere thought of Jungkook was enough to make your heart clench in your chest.

You took a deep breath, tried to calm yourself as you walked down the large corridors. Your hands wiped your cheeks but the lump in your throat stayed, the pain in your chest didn't fade. Almost as if it had found its home within you.

You were about to meet your husband in the main hall of the royal palace. You couldn't be seen crying and less for another man you yearned so fiercely for. You were the Queen. Mother of the Crown Prince. Wife to the King of Gyeongdong. Daughter of the dynasty.

You had to be strong.

You could cry in private later. But not now. It wasn't your place to do so. A Queen doesn't cry. A Queen is strong. A Queen fights. You sighed, taking strength from your own aching heart to continue walking, to face your reality. To live in this written fate.

Even when your mind was elsewhere, even when your hands trembled and your feet itched to turn back and run into the arms of your lover. Even when your chest didn't stop hurting, you held on. Just like every other time before.

You just held on.

The king sat on his throne, the ministers had just left the large room after their council and he had a deep desire to see his wife. Jimin let out a sigh, his mind going back in the seasons, remembering. Going back in time in his mind.

He remembered your wedding day, he remembered the cool autumn day when he saw you for the first time. He had heard the princess was beautiful but no words were enough to describe your beauty in front of him.

The sound of your voice was forever engraved in his memories, your smile was sweeter than any candy in the world. He had fallen in love with you. He loved you, all of you. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to spend his life with you. His queen. The mother of his child. The owner of his heart.

Maybe he loved too quickly. Maybe he trusted too soon. But he didn't regret it. Jimin was happy. He was living the life that was planned for him since birth yet he was happy with the fate painted before him. He wanted it. He craved it.

"You're wearing it."

Jimin's voice brought you out of your thoughts. Looking up at him with a confused look, he elaborated while a chuckle escaped his lips.

"The hairpin. You are wearing it. I'm glad you like it."

You nodded at him with a small smile.

"It's really beautiful."

You weren't going to lie about that. It was truly one of the best jewellery pieces you'd ever seen. The Prince's cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink, a shy smile over his lips. He stopped out of a sudden and you halted in your steps. Looking up at him with curiosity, Jimin grabbed one of your hands between his and said while his eyes were glued to your joined hands.

"I'll speak without formalities for once as this is something I need you to know not as a Prince but as your fiancé."

You nodded and he continued.

"(y/n)..."

Your name in his lips was sweet, said with such delicacy and devotion. A sweetness similar to your favourite fruit.

"... I'm so glad it is you who I am going to marry. After we get married and the coronation ceremony is completed, I want you to know that you will always be my equal as the Queen of Gyeongdong. I know we were arranged but I sincerely hope we can grow something from this.

You will always be treated fairly, I promise. And I'm so lucky to have such a beautiful fianceé."

You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips. It was a grateful smile. You knew he wouldn't force you to do anything, he would always respect you and give you your place. The Prince of the Park family was a good man with a noble soul; a gentleman who was going to become a great ruler.

"Thank you, Jimin. I really appreciate that."

He smiled. His eyes closed with the action and you couldn't help but think it was cute. He had a pretty smile, you had to admit that.

The memory flashed in front of his eyes in a second. You still wore that hairpin he had given you. You liked it, he had watched you admire it and it fueled his pride as your husband.

“What are you all doing standing here? Don´t you know she could get sick with this?”

Growled the prince at a nearby royal guard who cowered at the imposing tone of the man. Jimin was seen among the palace staff as a sweet and loving personality who was made to receive and give love in each of his lifetimes. That’s why the guard felt suddenly so intimidated as the prince had never acted nor spoken in such a way.

“We are aware, Your Royal Highness. But the Princess ordered us to not interfere. She said she'll kneel until the counsellor's son is safe. There was no way of persuading her!”

Jimin cursed under his breath as his feet carried him towards you. He didn’t care about the rain, about the stares of the maids and staff, he didn’t care about anything else other than you.

You were kneeling on the cold stone floor. The palace was in front of you in all its glory but you could only care about your best friend. Why was life so complicated? When has your life tangled itself up with these kinds of problems?

Why did summer end so suddenly?

Your tears rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the pouring rain that fell from the greying skies. A chilly breeze made a shiver run up your spine but you weren’t going to leave. You weren’t going to surrender that easily so you stood firmly, ignoring the pain in your knees, ignoring the coldness in your skin. Ignoring the sadness in your heart and not minding the tears that escaped your eyes.

But suddenly, you didn’t feel the rain any longer. The chilly air didn’t attack your back any more and you had to look up to find the source of such a blessing only to be met by the profile of the Prince of the Park family, he was looking forward not seeming to mind the cold rain that was quick to drench him. His right arm extended his outer robe over you, keeping the rain from cooling you any further.

He looked down, feeling your gaze on him only to be met with your drenched figure. Your eyes were red and puffy, filled with tears. And he felt his heart clench at the sight of your pain. If he was able to take it away he would do it in a heartbeat. You didn’t deserve such a burden. Such pain.

And he made a silent promise to himself that once you both got married, he would move mountains for him to see you smile.

You deserved it, after all.

Everyone deserves happiness. Even you, the beautiful Princess everyone thought had it all but in the end, you were just lonely. Broken by the mends of society.

Jimin took a deep breath, memories of you began to flash in front of his eyes like raindrops. Unstoppable. He felt a sudden need to see you, be with you, hear your voice. So he stood up from his throne and walked out of the main hall in hopes of meeting you in one of the main corridors.

Urgency carried his steps, feeling a darkness enclose his heart in cold ice of desperation. He needed to see you. Jimin didn't know why such urgency had taken control of him but he couldn't fight it. He walked and rounded a corner, seeing you standing on the other end.

He smiled.

A window was behind you, the white gardens stood in the background as he took in the image of you. You just stood there, not even looking at him but lost in your mind. At least that was what he saw, he began to approach you.

He saw you frown and he halted in his steps for a second. But that second dictated his fate once more as he submerged in a cold river, surrounded by water of fear that froze his bones.

Your hand went up to your chest as you pressed onto it. You gasped, feeling how your heart ached within you. But this time it was worse, worse than the subtle pain you felt there every time your thoughts drifted to Jungkook and that lost future living in the land of dreams. This pain was different.

Your hand clutched the silk of your dress as you took a step forward, your other hand grabbing a table resting against the wall with a vase on it to try and find your balance once more.

You heard footsteps from your right and you turned only to see Jimin walking down to where you stood with worry on his face. Tears gathered in your eyes due to the pain.

"Jimin..."

He could barely hear his whispered name leave your lips before he saw you take a step towards him but you tumbled, hitting the table and making the vase fall and crash against the wooden floor as you collapsed before him.

He rushed to you in panic as fear wrapped around his heart. Jimin cradled you in his arms as he checked for a pulse, tears gathered in his eyes at the sight of you but he couldn't help but sigh upon noticing you were still alive.

"My darling... (y/n), open your eyes. Please..."

Yoongi was rounding the corner when he gasped at the image in front of him. He was quick to approach the desperate king with fast steps.

"Your Majesty, what happened? Is she alright?"

Jimin didn't turn to look at the slightly older man, one of his hands caressed your face delicately, as if you were a soft summer flower.

"I don't know, call the physician. I'll take her to my quarters."

Your husband felt his heart clench at the sight of you so vulnerable and weak in his hold. Captain Min bowed down at the king before he stood up and ran in the opposite direction.

Jimin picked you up in his arms, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he held you tightly against him. The scene he had just witnessed was something he'd never forget, for it had been horrible to see you in what he could guess was pain. He hated to see you like that and now, as you were being cradled in his embrace, a fire burned within him.

Flames of fear combined with fuel of anger at your state. He pressed an almost harsh kiss against your temple, murmuring in your hair words only meant for you to hear.

"Hold on, My Queen. You'll be alright. I promise."

Jimin laid next to you, supporting your body in his strong hold. The royal physician was examining you. He could feel his heart squeezing in his chest. Worry fueled his soul and fear set it aflame.

Time tickled by slowly, everything was moving too slow. Everything felt too hollow. Everything was colourless. The royal physician held her breath as she took your pulse. The room stilled. No-one dared to move, let alone breathe.

She let out a sigh and retrieved her touch from your soft skin. Jimin looked up in anxiety. Waiting, expecting, needing to know what the elderly woman had to say.

"What is it? Is she alright? Speak, woman!"

She didn't flinch at the king's desperate tone as she kept her gaze low while clasping her hands in her lap.

"Your Majesty... it's a heart disease. I think the Queen has always had it but since her rather difficult birth... it came alive, so to speak."

Jimin didn't know what to say, his soul ached at the sight of you in his arms as endless possibilities came rushing to his mind like lightning during a storm.

"Can you cure her?"

He already knew the answer to that question. A hand of his came to caress your cheek softly while tears gathered in his brown eyes that gazed lovingly down at you. He knew the answer to his own question yet your husband held onto that last sliver of hope his soul refused to let go.

"I can give her something for the pain, My King."

Was the physician's answer. Her voice delicate, words being carefully selected.

"Yes, but can you cure her?"

Her eyes met the intense gaze of the king as he turned to look at the woman dressed in a blue hanbok. A tear escaped his eye as it rolled down his cheek slowly while his heart was beating wildly in his ribcage.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

If someone had stabbed him with a thousand arrows Jimin was sure would have hurt less than those four words that left the woman's lips. He cradled you against him, pressing your limp form to him as if he could prevent the horrid fate that awaited you from taking you from his side.

"Leave. I want to be alone."

The royal physician stood up and bowed down at the broken man along with the maids and guards in the room at the whispered command of their king.

The door slid shut and silence drowned the room. He was left alone with you but this wasn't a joyous moment. Jimin lied you down on the bedding beneath you as tears rolled down his cheeks. His hand held yours with a delicate touch as his eyes roamed over your figure.

"You cannot leave me, (y/n). You can't. You belong here, with me, with Ha-joon. You cannot leave me alone."

But those words didn't reach your ears. You didn't hear his begging, his pleading. And he only held you tighter. Wishing that this was just a sick nightmare of his.

"Please... Queen of my heart. Do not leave us behind."

One of Jimin's hands fisted the soft fabric of your dress, needing to ground his thoughts, to be in the present and stop his mind from picturing all the horrible scenarios in his head.

"Do not abandon me in a world without you by my side."

Fate was cruel. Jimin loved you but now you were going to be robbed from him. He didn't know when, he didn't know how much time he had left with you, he didn't know how much pain you'd have to endure. He didn't know he'd have so little time next to you and that fact pained him beyond words.

"I need you, Queen of mine. I love you."

Words weren't enough to change fate. He knew it. He knew everything yet he still tried. He pleaded to the heavens to not take you, to not rob you in such a cruel way.

"I love you, (y/n)."

But love wasn't enough to save you from death. Love wasn't strong enough to keep you next to your husband. To watch your son grow into a fine prince that would rule the kingdom one day. Love wasn't enough. It had never been.

Jimin knew that but he still cried. He still pleaded, he still hoped.

Snow fell wildly outside, the wind could be heard when you opened your eyes and found yourself in Jimin's room, rather than your own. You had been resting in his bedroom for some days now, not really sure how many.

Hoseok was by your side the next second as he helped you sit up, he didn't speak a word and your heart shook within you at the sight of your distressed friend. You watched as he prepared your medicine, silence fell into the room as the candles flickered in the middle of the night.

"Please take your medicine, My Queen."

He spoke, holding the spook with the tonic you had been taking for so long, it seemed.

"Don't make me take it again, Hobi. It's too sour."

He sighed, eyes lowering onto his lap but still holding out the spoon to you.

"Please, Your Majesty. It'll help you get better."

You took a deep breath as you leaned forward and opened your mouth, taking the medicine like your friend wanted you too. Even when you shut your eyes shut and scrunched your nose at the taste, you managed to swallow it.

"I won't get better, Hobi. You know it too."

You weren't a stranger to your disease, Jimin told you himself about your predicament. You remember how your heart broke at the sight of his distress, his eyes were red and puffy, shining with new tears that he refused to let go. His hands shook as they held yours.

Hoseok sighed and the soft noise brought you out of your thoughts. He put the spoon and bottle aside as his eyes locked with your own and you were able to see the sorrow in his usually cheerful gaze.

"I know. I'm sorry, My Queen."

Your hand rested atop his as a soft yet sad smile was painted over your lips.

"Don't apologise. Don't be sad. Don't cry. Why don't you bring me some fish-shaped pastries and you tell me what Ha-joon did today?"

He nodded with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before standing up without saying a word. Hoseok walked down the corridors back to the king's chamber where you were resting with a round container in his hands where the pastries rested. He couldn't help but let his mind wander back to those summer days when you were still a princess and your worries revolved around what silk to choose for your next dress.

He wanted to go back to those golden days when the sun shone brightly and warmth filled the palace.

"Princess!"

You turned around at the sound of the voice of one of your closest people in the palace. The royal counsellor's son and a dear friend of yours, Jung Hoseok.

When he arrived next to you a smile was painted over his lips, he bowed down at you making you frown a bit.

"Stop it, I've told you many times before that you don't have to bow in front of me."

He chuckled, his hands behind his back as he straightened back up.

"Yes, I have. There are so many guards and court ladies that could see and that wouldn't be good for me, princess."

You sighed at his answer. He had said it time and time again but you just wanted to have a normal friendship, was that too much to ask? Maybe it was. At least for now.

"I'm sorry, you are right. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of me."

Hoseok smiled and that made a small smile paint over your own lips. That was a power only he had, he would smile and it would make you smile too.

"It's alright, I can be sneaky when I want. Especially to the kitchen. They never knew when I was there."

That made you let out a snort before laughing completely. Forgetting about proper manners or who could be watching you at that moment, you just lived that fragment of time. Enjoy it how it should be enjoyed.

"Speaking of..."

He continued, bringing his hands in front of him only for you to notice the small package covered with white fabric. You smiled widely at him.

"...I managed to sneak out some fish-shaped pastries."

You let out a squeal while Hoseok unwrapped the package and opened the lid for you to see he had bought your favourite dessert.

"Thank you, Hobi! I've been craving this since last week!"

With that, you took one and immediately began eating it, savouring the sweet flavour inside your mouth as you closed your eyes for a moment.

"Why didn't you just order for the maids to bring some pastries to your room, your highness?"

You sighed, swallowing the sweet treat only for then to say, your joyous face turning slightly sombre when the bubble of happiness was suddenly popped with reality.

"I am not allowed to eat anything like this, at least not until my wedding day. King's orders."

Hoseok's eyes widened in surprise at your words. Panic flared through his features as he came to the sudden realisation that he was disobeying the king's direct order. He looked around frantically, searching for people nearby that had witnessed him giving you the pastries while you continued to munch on another bite of the sweet treat.

The next thing he did, however, made your eyes widen as the remainder of the fish-shaped sweet was taken from your hand rather abruptly only for Hoseok to throw it in his mouth at the end. It all happened too fast you were left staring at your best with a dumbfounded face.

"Yah! Why did you d-"

You cut your sentence when you spotted one of the court ladies followed by a group of maids appearing in your peripheral vision. You quickly straightened your back while Hoseok hid the package he was holding behind his back, swallowing the remains of the pastry he took from your hands.

The court lady bowed when she stood in front of you, the other maids mirroring her actions. When she stood back up, she said, her voice cold and her attitude as strict as always.

"My Lady, His Majesty; The King, has requested your presence at the main hall."

You curtsided softly, a soft smile on your face.

"Thank you, I shall go there immediately."

And with that, you turned around and began walking along the large gardens with Hobi following you at a proper distance. When you rounded a corner and were out of the court lady's sight, you sighed. Hoseok caught up to you and you smiled at him.

"Thanks, Hobi."

Those whispered words made him smile, he looked back before saying.

"I should probably go back, I'll see you later, princess."

You nodded at him with a soft smile over your beautiful features and he bowed slightly at you only for then to fast-walk to the opposite direction from where you stood. You were left alone again and took a deep breath before you continued on your way to the throne room where your presence was requested.

The memory flashed in front of his eyes in an instant. His heart filled with melancholy at the lost memory in the past before he slid open the bedroom door and found you asleep on the bedding.

Hoseok sighed, putting the pastries aside as he went to blow away some of the candles to let you sleep peacefully.

If only he could take away your pain, your disease, he would. For he remembered how you saved him from death when he was falsely accused of treason, he remembered your desperation. Hoseok was your best and only friend in the palace and he only wished he could repay the favour of saving his life with now saving your own, even if he knew that was not possible.

"The Queen hasn't left the King's chambers for a while."

"I wonder if she's alright."

"I've seen the royal physician go in and out a couple of times."

Jungkook had heard this and more rumours around the palace. He wasn't going to lie, he was worried about you. He hasn't seen you since that day when he was playing with the little prince in the white gardens.

Maybe she's pregnant again.

That was his main thought and final conclusion. Not wanting to ponder on the idea that much to save himself the heartache. He entered the guard's palace, going straight to his room. Dusk had already settled and the night was cold.

"Yah! Jungkook! Do you know what happened to Her Majesty?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, seeing a bunch of younger guards eating some ramen in the corner of the common hall.

"What do you mean?"

He asked. A frown adorning his handsome features. One of the guards stood up from the small table and walked over to Jungkook.

"Do you know why the Queen has not been seen around anymore? Rumours said she is pregnant again."

Jungkook looked past him at the bundle of men gathered in silence to listen to what he had to say.

"Why would I know? I've been taking care of His Highness as of lately."

The man in front of him scoffed, looking back at his peers before glancing back at Jungkook.

"Aren't you the Queen's royal guard? Shouldn't you be with her at all times?"

Jungkook sighed, feeling his patience leave his body quickly. He turned around, waving a hand to the man who wished to pester him with his questions.

"I don't have time for this."

"Why? Are you the prince's babysitter now?"

Jungkook closed his eyes, wanting to disappear from that exact second.

"What's going on here?"

Captain Min's voice boomed around the common room, making everyone go silent, even the men who were only watching and snickering in the corners.

"Nothing, Captain."

"Nothing."

Jungkook and the man in front of him answered at the same time. Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Go back to your table, Kwon. Jeon, come with me."

The latter nodded, sending a final glare to the man whose surname was now to his knowledge. Yoongi dragged Jungkook to another room with more privacy. He turned around, eyes softening at the sight of his friend.

"What is it?"

Yoongi's question was delicate, a soft tone only certain people had heard of the stoic man.

"I haven't seen her in days, Yoongi. I don't know what is going on and it's killing me on the inside."

The older man let out a sigh, pondering if he should tell Jungkook about your condition or if that information would only stress him further.

"You know, don't you?"

Yoongi looked up only to meet Jungkook's big and sad eyes.

"Yes. But I do not know if you should be aware of her situation or if it will cause you more harm."

Jungkook's heart constricted in his chest with those words. A part of him didn't want to know. He didn't want to risk the heartache, so many possibilities swarmed his head that it made him dizzy.

"Tell me. Please."

He whispered and Yoongi sighed once more. He knew of Jungkook's innocent yet strong feelings for you and he'd hate to break his precious heart but his wish was his right.

"She's sick, Jungkook. The physician examined her a couple of days ago and she said the Queen was born with a weak heart and her long labour worsened her condition. She said there was no cure."

A tear escaped his eye slowly, his heart ached deep within him at the information. You were sick? If you had had it since birth, why weren't you more careful? But all those thoughts did nothing to alleviate his pain.

"I'm sorry, Kook."

Said Yoongi with a heavy voice. In sympathy for his friend for he knew this kind of pain. He was no stranger to heartache. He understood.

"Would you like me to stay or do you want to be alone?"

"I want to be alone, hyung."

His response was empty. Colourless. Cold. Yoongi nodded without saying another word. He quietly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Jungkook closed his eyes as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He took it all in. The pain. The heartache. The distress. The despair. He welcomed it all and allowed himself to cry in his solitude as snow fell from the sky on a cold winter night with no apparent morning sun to warm his soul.

A couple of days later you were still in Jimin's room. Hoseok was playing with Ha-joon as you watched them fondly. You didn't have the energy to stand anymore. The disease was deteriorating you, killing you. A part of you believed it was due to the heartache you had gone through that now you were being punished with a heart disease.

How ironic, isn't it?"

Ha-joon laughed, distracting you from your sombre thoughts. You looked at your son, watching as he laughed and enjoyed his time. The little prince hadn't seen you for weeks since you fell sick and he missed you immensely.

"My prince, come here."

You spoke, opening your arms for the little boy. His eyes lit up as he left his toys on the ground and ran towards you. The impact of his little body against yours was enough to leave you breathless.

Hoseok watched as you embraced your son with pain, as if he were to leave and you didn't want to let go.

"I love you so much, you know that, right?"

Ha-joon nodded in your chest before he gazed up at you with a cute smile. You smiled as well, trying to blink the tears that began to moisture your eyes.

"You'll be a worthy Crown Prince one day and the most respected king of Gyeongdong when you grow up. I love you so much, my little prince."

"Mummy..."

Ha-joon put his little hand on your cheeks, lovingly gazing into your eyes as your heart broke into a million pieces realising you weren't going to see him grow and become a great man. Your time in this place was slipping through your fingers like water in your hands.

"I love you too, mummy."

You hugged Ha-joon as your eyes met with Hoseok's sad gaze. He offered you a smile and you did your best to return the gesture, even when your heart was aching, from the disease or from your own pain you couldn't tell anymore.

It had always been a similar pain.

Always there, always cold. Always present in your life.

That night was cold. Hoseok had taken Ha-joon to his own room and verified he was sleeping before returning to tend to you. Jimin hadn't arrived yet as he was busy tending to some ministers and political matters you were no longer aware of.

"The prince fell asleep quickly, Your Majesty. I left Eun-ah to watch him during the night."

You nodded with a smile. Feeling your eyes drop with tiredness. You were already settled for the night, ready to close your eyes and sleep even when your exhaustion wouldn't leave your body.

"Thank you, Hobi. You should go and rest too, you look tired."

For he did. His skin was paler than usual and bags rested under his eyes. You could see it and it pained you to see your best friend so tired and sad all the time.

But he shook his head, a melancholic feeling swam in his warm eyes as he looked at you.

"I would like to wait until His Majesty is with you, My Queen. I do not wish for you to be alone."

Your hand rested over his and he turned to look at you meeting your eyes filled with tears.

"Hobi... what would I do without you?"

He only smiled, not saying a word. Not wanting to break the soft moment so you continued.

"Thank you for being my friend all these years. Thank you for always being by my side and for giving me your friendship."

A tear left his eye and rolled down his honeyed skin at your words. Realising that this was your goodbye to him.

"Please take care of Ha-joon for me. He is really fond of you, Hobi."

He nodded, feeling how his emotions choked him. It pained him to even think of you leaving his side. You, his best friend. His only companion, his princess since childhood.

"I promise, sweet Queen of mine."

You smiled at his whispered promise, squeezing his hand softly. The door slipped open and entered your husband. Hoseok let go of your hand as he stood up in a swift movement. He bowed down at the king before he left the bedroom in silence.

"How are you feeling, Queen of my heart?"

Jimin asked as he knelt in front of you. You smiled. Feeling how your heart ached in the cage that was your body.

"I'm fine, my King."

He knew you were lying. He knew your words weren't true to your reality. He knew it all. He knew you. But he chose to not mind your lies for he didn't know how much time he'd be gifted by your side. He smiled, allowing his hand to cradle the side of your face as he looked at you with pure adoration in his dark eyes.

"Say it. Let me hear my name on your lips. Grant me that wish, grant me that honour."

You swallowed, knowing how much your condition was killing your sweet husband from the inside.

"King of my existence. My Jimin. My sweet husband."

He smiled sadly. His hand left your cheek and took your hand instead, feeling how you gripped weakly onto it.

"I love you, (y/n)."

You could only smile fondly at his declaration of love. His eyes twinkled at your reaction.

"Do you also share my sentiment?"

He asked almost shyly, looking down at his hand that covered yours.

"Of course. How couldn't I?"

Jimin's eyes met yours as he smiled. His gesture was priceless for your words of affirmation was the only thing he cherished to hear, the only melody he wished to always remember and a verse of a poem that would never end.

"Didn't you have an important meeting with some ministers?"

Your voice broke the silence that hung in the room. You sat facing a large mirror, staring at your own reflection while Jimin was behind you brushing your hair with a golden comb. Your back rested against his chest, your hair rested over your shoulder as he brushed it with delicacy.

"I have more important things to attend to right now. Do not bother yourself with such thoughts, Queen of my heart."

You blushed softly at his words, looking down at your hands resting on your lap. It wasn't snowing outside but the room was cold, shivers ran through your body from time to time despite the closeness of your husband and the many blankets around you two.

"Jimin, can you promise me something?"

He didn't allow the frown that threatened to appear between his brows mark his soft features. He nodded, eyes searching your own through the mirror despite you having your gaze down.

"I'd give you the moon and stars in a golden tray if they were mine to possess in the first place."

You smiled softly, hating to break his heart with your next words. Hating your own fate and feeling your heart constrict within you at the mere thought of his pain the next moment you were to speak.

“Please don’t lose your smile after I’m gone.”

His eyes lost their spark. The softness in his features disappeared like a burning flame splashed with the water of reality. Your hand grabbed his and at his silence, you continued.

“Tell Ha-joon that his mother loved him so much.”

Tears gathered in your husband’s eyes, his mind realising this was your goodbye to him but his heart refused to believe his time with you was this short. He didn’t accept that he’d have to let go this sudden.

“And live every day as if it's your last.”

The crystalline pearls of sadness rolled down his cheeks, his hands squeezed yours as his eyes locked with your own.

“I’ll find you in my next lifetime, Queen of my heart.”

Jimin brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin. As if wanting to seal his love with that small gesture.

“Thank you, Jimin. For your love and your respect. Don’t lose your spark, don’t cry those precious tears and allow your heart to heal if I broke it without wanting to. Forgive me.”

He sobbed, not wanting to let go of your hand as if that could prevent you from leaving his side. The sound of his sobs and cries shattered your heart and tears of your own began leaking down your cheeks in silence while you witnessed him mourn your fate.

"There's nothing to forgive. I could never be mad at you, not even if you were to kill me with your own hands."

His hands pressed you against him. Needing to feel you close to him. Needing this moment, this memory to be engraved in mis mind and soul so that he could seek solace in it when his heart cried in the darkness.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against your husband who cried his heart out, whose world was going to be taken away from him. You mourned his sadness while your heart broke at the thought of leaving your little family behind. Leaving your life, your love in a cruel world.

The apple of my eyes.

Woman of my heart.

Enchantress of love.

Mistress of my soul.

The days are longer.

I miss you. I need you.

My love gets stronger.

I cry over my solitude.

Did we ever have a chance?

Do I deserve the happiness you bring to this world?

Am I worthy of your hand?

Am I enough to a jewel like you?

Do I deserve your devotion?

Is it cruel of me to want you?

Ever so fiercely. So fully.

My darling. My Queen. My lover. My everything.

Live in my heart forever.

Stick in my mind to eternity.

Don't leave this man to suffer with your absence.

Don't leave me to burn in my own ashes.

A sudden knock on his door made Jungkook break out of his trance, he put the brush down and stood up as the door slid open and he was met with Hoseok. His eyes were casted down, not meeting the soft gaze of the royal guard.

“Jungkook, the Queen requests your presence in His Majesty’s chambers.”

The younger man’s heart sped up at the thought of seeing you. He hadn’t been able to even get a glimpse of you since that day in the gardens. His soul was desperate to see you, his heart screamed at him to go and search for you. It was torture, to separate two lovers, that is.

Jungkook nodded, not missing the way Hoseok’s demeanour was different. He looked sad, worried. Cold. He wished he could ask him what was wrong but feared he’d be overstepping a line with the slightly older male who was a dear friend of yours.

"Thank you, I'll go there immediately."

Hoseok nodded with a soft movement before he stepped out of the room. Jungkook sighed, arranging his papers correctly before heading out the door.

His feet carried him along the large and cold corridors of the palace. His heart was in his throat as nerves bubbled in his stomach.

Jungkook was a brave soldier. He has fought many battles as scars adorned his body. He has been on the verge of death several times before but ironically, right now was when he felt more nervous than when he was holding a sword in his hand.

He took a deep breath, standing in front of the King's chambers. He hesitated for a second, not knowing what he'd hear from your lips at the other side of that door. He didn't know how he would react after not having seen you in so many days he has already lost count of.

He knocked only to hear your command for him to come in. Your voice was soft, weak even. But that didn't matter when butterflies erupted in his stomach at the mere sweet sound of your voice.

Jungkook entered the room the next second, he slid the door closed behind him while he kept his eyes trained on the dark wood below his feet.

"Jungkook."

His name coming from your lips was the sweetest melody he has ever heard. He had missed it. He had missed you. His eyes locked with yours and he nearly gasped at the sight of you laying on the soft bedding, your skin was paler than usual, your eyes were tired and your body was beyond weakened.

"Your Majesty."

He acknowledged you. Bowing softly at you without tearing his gaze from you. He saw you shift in your position, laying on your left side so you could see him properly. You smiled and in an instant his dark world was lightened by your existence.

"Come closer, Jungkook. Come here."

Your hand extended towards him as if trying to reach him. He couldn't hold himself back any longer upon your innocent request as his legs moved with a mind of their own. Nearly jumping until he was kneeling by your side, his hand holding yours ever so softly.

“I heard… I heard that you are sick, my Queen. Is it true?”

Jungkook asked almost shyly. Not meeting your eyes as his own gaze was fixed on your joined hands.

“It is.”

He sighed at your response. Feeling how his heart clenched within him. Tears watered his dark eyes and a lump grew in your throat at the sight of his sadness.

“Don’t cry, Jungkook. Don’t waste your tears over me.”

He looked up at you, his expression hurt with your words. A frown was between his brows, eyes watered with his materialised sadness and a soul that he could no longer carry on his own.

“How can you say that to me? I am dying with you, my Queen. Only you are capable of causing me the greatest pain yet it is you who eradicates it as well.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling your chest aching. Your mind was shutting down as you gazed at the man you loved with your entire being.

“Forgive me.”

He shook his head, refusing to let his tears roll down his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your face as if trying to memorise all your little details in his mind.

“It is I who should beg for forgiveness. I cannot protect you from this, I have failed you. I cannot prevent you from leaving me.”

A tear left the corner of your eye as you looked at him with so many unsaid things and raging emotions you were never able to pour out. It was too much. Too much love. Too much longing. Too much sadness. Too much anger. Your heart couldn’t take it any more.

“Maybe you can’t make me stay, but you gave me the opportunity of knowing what it was to love. Even when we couldn’t be together in the end, I still love you. I will always love you, Jungkook. In each… in each lifetime.”

Both of his hands squeezed your own, feeling your grip on them weaken by the second. What kind of punishment is this? To love you so fiercely, so wholeheartedly only to be snatched from him like this? What did he do in his past life to deserve such pain, such misfortune, such punishment?

Is love a crime?

“You still wear it, huh?”

He asked, sniffling softly while his eyes locked with the small red braided bracelet he had given you that autumn day. When life was kinder. When it wasn’t as cold as winter. When he still held hope for happiness. When life was simpler...

“I never took it off.”

You whispered, smiling up at him as your eyes traced his features.

“I love you, Jungkook.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, not being able to stop them any longer. He smiled through his tears, needing to say the words back to you.

“And I love you, (y/n). I’ll love you in every lifetime, in every form, in any timeline. I will always love you.”

You chuckled softly, squeezing his hand with all the strength you had left in your body.

“You’ve said it. Thank you.”

He smiled down at you. Remembering how you once pleaded to him to speak your name, to hear it come from his lips. He could no longer deny you such pleasure. He wished he had said it that time.

“I’ll see you again. I’ll see you in my next lifetime.”

Jungkook nodded, taking a deep breath while not being able to look away from you. He wouldn’t dare to.

“I’ll find you. I promise.”

You smiled. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your eyes closed as you relished on the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“I love you, my Queen.”

That was the last thing you heard before darkness fully enveloped you. The smile from your lips disappeared as your hand fell limp in Jungkook’s grasp. He sobbed, pressing your hand against his cheek only to feel your skin already cooling down. His other hand caressed your cheek with delicacy, his lips trembled and his tears couldn’t stop from leaving his waterline.

A pain in his chest settled forever. Dying would have been more merciful than living like this. Jungkook lived in an eternal winter. The coldness was taking everything from him. Freezing his heart, leaving his memories covered with frost. Everything was cold. Your hand, his heart, his life. Everything was cold. That was the only thing he could feel. Only the coldness of his reality was covered in a deep and thick layer of white snow; the colour of sorrow. The colour of nothing.

All in an eternal winter of pain with no spring in sight. His hopes died with you, he had died with you. Only his heart was still beating. But death had claimed him as well, cursed him with the coldness of sorrow and a lost love for eternity.

The funeral was held three days later. Ministers and people from the village were all mourning their Queen. They all dressed in white robes, standing in the large palace gardens as they knelt on the cold ground.

The king walked in the middle of the golden path with Ha-joon by his side. His small hand in his own as the both of them walked toward where your casket was. Some of the people were crying, others were praying as they all shared the king’s sorrow.

Hoseok, Yoongi, Jungkook and your father were guarding your casket, waiting for your husband to arrive and complete the ceremony. Their hearts were heavy, the skies were grey as little snowflakes fell down from the thick clouds.

Ha-joon ran to where Hoseok stood, burning his face in his robes as he began to cry silently. Jimin’s heart clenched at the sight of his son mourning the death of his mother. He placed a red rose in between your hands, accommodating your red bracelet on your wrist. He had seen you wear it everyday so it should stay with you in your final resting place. He turned to look at the people, his face cold, missing your warmth next to him. He could no longer cry, his tears were gone only leaving a deep hole in his heart.

“Let’s give the Queen the goodbye she deserves.”

Jimin spoke to his people who all rose to their feet. Yoongi and Jungkook along with two more guards began carrying your casket made of crystal with golden details down the palace entrance. A tear rolled down Jungkook’s cheek when he spotted the bracelet he made for you still attached to your wrist.

The king was walking in front of them while Hoseok walked with Ha-joon behind them. The slightly older man was crying silently while holding your son’s hand in his.

“I miss mummy.”

Jungkook closed his eyes at the prince’s words. Hoseok sighed and picked the child up in his arms, hugging him to his chest while continuing to walk down the frozen path.

“We all do, my prince. We all do.”

That night, Jimin found solace in the darkness of his room. He sighed at the empty feeling of the place he once shared with you. Ha-joon was sleeping in his bedding, neither of them wanting to be alone after your passing. A lone tear left his eyes, rolling down his cheek slowly.

He looked to where Ha-joon was sleeping soundly and let out a deep sigh. Jimin knew facing this new reality was going to be tough for him as a husband who lost his wife and for Ha-joon who lost his mother while the kingdom lost their Queen.

He felt his heart freeze with the remnants of your love. No other woman would ever be in your place while he lived. No other woman would ever sit next to him in the throne and Ha-joon won’t call another woman “mother”. He couldn’t betray you like that. He couldn’t discard his love for you that easily.

Winter settled in his heart, frost covered his heart and memories. There were no more summer days and spring was never going to arrive in Jimin. For he was also cursed by the coldness of sorrow forever.

The moon rose high in the sky that night, being the only source of light for Jungkook as he left the palace grounds in silence. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He was going to leave that place of golden memories for they were now shattered in fragments of ice. You were no longer there to warm his days in the palace. You were no longer there to smile at him from a distance. Your absence killed him. Froze him.

His footsteps got covered by the snow falling from the skies, his silhouette was soon lost to the eye as he walked among the snow and the darkness of the night.

I’ll find you, I promise.

His own words resonated in his mind. With each step he took, he felt how another layer of ice covered his heart. No other woman would ever enter his heart for he was sealing it with the chains of his sorrow.

No-one ever saw Jungkook after that night. Some people said he went to a little village to live between his solitude and his poems. Others said he married a woman with great semblance to the late Queen. Others said he died, either by his own hand or by a heart disease.

No-one exactly knew what happened to First Officer Jeon Jungkook after the Queen’s funeral. Not even Yoongi, who found his friend’s room empty the next morning. Everything was placed neatly and only a single sheet of paper laid on his wooden desk with a poem written on it.

Yoongi folded the paper and put it in his pocket, feeling loneliness creep up into his heart at Jungkook’s leaving. Yet his friend’s heartache was stronger, he had to leave and Yoongi understood. He knew he’d never see Jungkook again so he could only wish him luck in whatever he may venture in next. His love poem was kept in his possession for all his life. Reading it from time to time and feeling Jungkook’s pain through the only thing he left behind, his words. His heart poured out on a sheet of paper.

You have poisoned me with your love.

Like a drug.

An addiction only you can control.

And now you are gone, taking my life with your own.

I am dead in ever sense of the word,

yet my heart still beats inside me.

What kind of punishment is this?

I prefer a thousand times to die by your hand than to live a life without you by my side.

You exist now only in my memories.

My most precious treasure.

My love will be known through centuries;

because meeting you was my biggest pleasure.

Queen of mine,

wait for me in your next life.

Maybe you had left this world

but you still live in my heart.

Forever shall I remember you,

may this letter be a proof of my devotion to you.

Sultana of my mind.

Owner of my heart.

Lover of mine.

October/28/2023

~Masterpost

**I do NOT give my consent for this or any of my works to be posted or translated into any other platforms or languages.

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neverlearnedtoread · 10 months ago

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Spinning Silver

⭐⭐⭐⭐; the staryk king and mirnatius with the word 'wife' on the board: there's only one thing more horrible than a wife.... *rips off paper* MY wife

Oh?? 👌😉😏

women are fucking amazing and wonderful and terrifying and unequivocal badasses. especially to their husbands. it's about the fantasy of a marriage you have no control over being perfectly suited to you in ways you didn't even know it could

inhuman fae creatures that actually have a separate culture and set of rules they are governed by. they're much more powerful than humans, of course, but they are bound to their laws, and if you're smart you can work with that

fairytale-esque magic system that relies heavily on (1) trickery (2) Having Audacity and (3) the rule of threes 😉. we love a soft magic system that rewards big swings and BDE!

not one, but TWO separate arranged marriages engaged in HEATED pvp AKA two people bound in hostile matrimony trying to kill each other while having 'wait, are they hot? fuck!' moments

you can be cold and practical and still be a good person. you can be strong enough to protect yourself without sacrificing others. with a good enough grasp of contracts you can force a demon to leave your kingdom AND husband unharmed in a 2-for-1 deal

No.. ❌🤢🤮

multiple POVs with no names for chapter titles so you have to figure out who it is from context clues - if you're like me and love a little puzzle to go with your reading time, you'll really enjoy it (Novik does it VERY well) but if you get confused easily or don't wanna put in the brainpower its annoying and overly complicated

if you don't like enemies-to-lovers where they actually argue and are ideologically opposed, you're not gonna enjoy the romance subplots. this is not a 'forbidden-lovers' kinda enemies-to-lovers. this is firmly in the 'my husband misses me a lot - but his aim is getting better!' zone

really quick wrap up - it gets tied up a little too fast after the final confrontation with the Big Bad. i wouldve liked at least to have irina POV at the end because her side of things just. gets left hanging

Summary: Miryem is a daughter and granddaughter of moneylenders, and though her father doesn't have the hardheartedness to be a good one, she'd rather be despised for what she's owed than starve. Her knack for the trade, coupled with her sharp tongue, draws the ire of her village, and even more alarmingly, the Staryk's attentions; faerie creatures who only covet gold, they take her offhanded boast that she can turn silver into gold quite literally, and show up at her door to hold her true to her careless words - which, honestly, kind of backfires on them when she rises to the challenge and upends their realm into complete disarray, so maybe there's a lesson there for the next group of nonhumans to learn: don't bet the house against a human girl whose Had Enough Of All This Bullshit. She might win.

Concept: 💭💭💭 I don't know Rumpelstiltskin's story very well, and Ice Kingdom aesthetics aren't my favourite (you can blame it on my residual dislike of Frozen), but I DID read Uprooted before this. I wasn't as into the book blurb as I was with Uprooted, but I'm an experienced (and opinionated) enough reader to know when to trust my gut - if I find an author's writing style easy to read, and I enjoy how they handle their themes, I'm not afraid of diving into deep waters. If it's that bad, I can always DNF

Execution: 💥💥💥💥 As I've come to expect with Novik's writing, a wonderfully easy read; the storytelling voice flows smoothly and makes me want to keep on reading. No slogging through difficult to understand passages and too slow pacing for me! I instantly wanted to collect every POV character like puppies in a basket, no matter how brief their sections were. I will say the ending does forget what it wants to say and simply ends on a happy note, instead of a complete thought. It doesn't tie in the POV characters together strongly enough - I would've loved to see an epilogue scenes with the 3 main female characters supporting each other, or at least being three distinct Bad Bitches!

Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤❤❤ Mostly because of Irina and Miryem (and Wanda)'s absolute BDE. They truly brought their stories to life and felt very dynamic, constantly driving the story forward through their actions, especially because their personalities and characteristics were so well-suited to the challenges they faced (Miryem rules-lawyering the Staryk, Irina taking to politics, Wanda keeping faith despite all the shit she's been through). Honorary shoutout to the complete hilarity of Mirnatius's POV (though ultimately it IS more indulgence than necessity, I respect Novik for it) - may he spend the rest of his life desperately drawing his wife in vain search of her bad angles!

Favourite Moment: the running gag of mirnatius losing his fucking mind trying to prove irina isn't hot. you know that post that's like 'find a blorbo to draw and your art skills will start improving so much faster'? irina is his blorbo. special mention of the scene he gets jealous realizing a random guard has a crush on his behated wife and immediately jumps to the conclusion that irina would want to fuck the guard for the sake of the kingdom. babygirl the hoops you are jumping........where is this gymnastics routine even going 😭 this man is not beating the meow meow allegations..

Favourite Character: It's really a tie between Miryem and Irina, who are both so similar yet different at the same time. Miryem's BDE was enjoyably explosive - she throws it in everyone's face, which is perfect to play off of the Staryk's otherworldly impassiveness. Irina's BDE was a lot more...steely. Quietly coming into her own as she realized how adept she was at politics, and how perfectly well-suited that made her to being tsarina - and when they finally met each other? it was so funny when were like 'hey...why dont we kill our husbands via pokemon battle??'

#spinning silver #naomi novik #books #book review #booklover #bookblr #reading #my hot take is that the staryk king is not immune to double dog dares.#staryk king: please stop asking for anything else you have already taken EVERYTHING FROM ME. STOP FUCKING ASKING!#miryem: what are you - scared??#staryk king:#my OTHER hot take is that irina and mirnatius spend the next six months to a year irradiating (pun intended) EVERYONE in their castle with #life-threatening levels of pining angst and UST.#like theyre super into each other (everyone knows. fae living on the moon would know.) but theyre both like 'what if the other person #sees it as pity sex or thinks im just using them???' and instead of talking about it they simply. Dont. for ages #in a distant realm miryem wakes up to another day happily annoying her ice fae husband in new and exciting ways and is like.#'hmmm. somehow i feel like there's a disturbance out there. oh well not my issue'

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athenasgotu · 9 months ago

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title: forbidden love. (part 3)

pairings: knight!ellie williams x female!reader

plot: ellie is one of the best knights in the whole kingdom, the first female one as well. you, the perfect princess. your mother has no clue you have a crush on ellie. but, your marriage is assigned. you couldn't get what you wanted.

warnings: eventual smut, little bit of angst, feeling unwanted, homophobia, negative thoughts, swearing, sexual desires

a/n: this chapter does have just like the smallest bit of smut. chapter 4 will most likely have smut. now, i don't usually write smut so bear with me 😭.

minors dni!

part 1 & part 2

MEN DNI❗❗

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

why did blair have to see this? she's going to tell mom for sure.. oh my god. my arrangement? what will happen to ellie? to me? you sigh and let go of ellie.

"blair.." you mumble. blair looks at you and ellie in complete shock. she never expected such disobedience from you. you knew the guidelines, and you broke them? out of all people. blair clutches the top of her gown and walks to you and ellie.

"sister.. you know better." blair looks at you. ellie was embarrassed and rubbed the back of her neck. you looked down feeling ashamed for your actions. you should've never fallen in love with her. why couldn't i just be normal? why does it have to be like this? your thoughts spiraled. you almost were completely distracted that your sister had to nudge your arm.

you jumped a bit, realizing you zoned out. "please.. don't tell anyone." you take your sister's hands and grasp on them tightly, begging her to keep this secret. if anyone knew, you'd be banished. ellie on the other hand.. executed. you couldn't let that happen to her. she was all you had, being forced to leave your home wasn't something you wanted either. why can't things just go back to how they were before? you and ellie, simple childhood friends. playing in the royal garden every once in a while. she'd talk about her training and show you her skills. but even before.. it was never "normal" you loved her, just didn't know it yet. why did you have to be like this?

"i.. i can't promise you-" you immediately cut your sister off. "i could be banished! do you really want that?" you were fed up with blair at this point. did she really want you to be cast away? thrown to the enchanted forest for good?

she lets go of her hands and sighs. "of course not," she turns around and was just about to walk away. right when you think she's done, she continued. "i have to follow the rules and so do you. i don't want you to end up like, him." she walks away, you hear her heels click-clack on the floor. ellie turns to face you, seeing the worry on your face.

"i'm sorry." she says. why was ellie saying sorry? she didn't do anything wrong. this is all your fault. if you didn't fall in love or be into girls.. everything would be normal. you'd be normal. "don't apologize." you say quietly. "you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. this one is on me." you grasp onto your dress and walk off. suddenly, ellie grabs your arm.

"let's go to my room, ok?" she says with a reassuring smile. god, that smile. who could say no to that? being in a room alone with her is probably all you need right now. you nod, letting her guide there.

・❥・

you wore ellie's clothes. her oversized grudge band shirt and a pair of flannel pants. pretty comfy than your dress. you laid down on the bed and she sat next to you. she gently rubbed your thigh. her touch was immaculate. her rough hands on your soft legs. it felt so nice. you feel her hand glide up to your waist, gently squeezing it. you felt a sort of arousal from this. wanting more. knowing ellie, she doesn't back down. she gets more aggressive as time goes on. this was just the beginning. the squeezing gets harder. she leans closer to you. "is this okay?" she whispered right into your ear. her hot breath on your neck. god. you nod. "yes- it is." ellie smirked at your nervousness. it was cute to her. just when was about to put her lips against yours, a sudden knock occurs.

ellie quickly moved away from you and yelled out. "who is it?" your heart was beating loud. please.. don't ruin this moment. "its the queen." fuck. your mom, of course. ellie puts the covers over you and gets out of the bed to open the door. "yes? what do you need, your majesty?" ellie asked. the queen looks down at ellie. "is my daughter in here?" ellie rubs her nose, it was a habit of hers. a cute one at that. "uh, blair?" the queen smiles a little and shakes her head. "don't act inarticulate. y/n, obviously." her big words confuse ellie in a way. ellie's usual language was just swear words. "ah- well, no." ellie smiles nervously. the queen looks away for a moment. "you certain?" she says again. ellie nods. "certain indeed!" ellie clears her throat, trying not to act so "enthusiastic". the queen nods and takes a step back. "very well then. sleep well, knight." the queen walks away and ellie shuts the door.

you uncover yourself and look at ellie. ellie sighs in relief. she walks back into the bed and lays down. she smirked again. that damn smirk. she patted on her legs. "c'mere." she said. you crawled over and go on top of her, ellie held your thighs down so you could straddle on her.

"now, where were we?"

#ellie williams #fanfic #lesbian #wlw #tlou2 #lgbtq #angst #princess x knight #smut #female!reader

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astrosfaerydae · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Masterlist!

So first off some housekeeping. Prompts are based off of Nymphare's Kinktober 2024 List. They will range in ratings from G-E(some prompts like first dates don't necessarily need to be explicit imo). I will be swapping between the dead dove and general list. I wont be doing all of them but as it stands I think I have 25... I cut a few to make room for dealers choice which I am excited for to say the least. This list will be updated as I make the posts for each prompt. Anyways lets get to it!

🎃 Day 1: Costumes (General List)

Rating: T Words: 908 Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Costumes, Canon Comp, Halloween Party, Chan and his many man crushes that Felix uses to his advantage 🔗: Cloud Vs. Fred Flintstone

🎃 Day 2: Hybrids AU (General List)

Rating: T Words: 3.6k Pairing: Minsung Main Tags: Hybrids AU, Cat Hybrid!Jisung, Major Character Injury, Getting Together, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort 🔗: Astray CW// Domestic Abuse, Animal Abuse, Injury, Broken Bones (none of these are in graphic detail however but here just in case)

Day 3 (no post)

🎃 Day 4: Firsts (General List)

Rating: G Words: 1k Pairing: Minsung Main Tags: First dates, fluff, lots of fluff, sickfic(kinda), Canon comp 🔗: For so Long I Have Waited “Do you remember what today was supposed to be?” Minho asked, gently swaying back and forth. He was all dressed up with nowhere to go in comparison to Jisung’s big ratty tee-shirt and boxers.

🎃Day 5: Eating Something Sensually (General List)

Rating: E Words: 1.1k Pairing: Minsung Main tags: Blow jobs, canon comp, Minho is a grump, fluff and smut, Banana's 🔗: Ba-Na-Na, Ba-Na-Na "Why don't you come over here and taste the real thing?"

🎃Day 6: Terms of Endearment (General List)

Rating: T Words: 3.2k Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Canon comp, excessive use of the word baby, Idiots in Love, Getting together, Fluff 🔗: I'm Holding on to Hope, It's a Problem I Admit “And you are sure you aren't a natural blonde or did the bleach strip your brain cells too?” “Would you stop making fun of me?!” Felix laughed softly trying to hide the slight sniffle. Jisung must’ve noticed, however, as he pulled him into a crushing hug. “You love him don’t you?”

🎃Day 7: Forbidden Love (General List)

Rating: E Words: 4.6k Pairing: Chanlix Main tags: Royalty Au, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Power Imbalance, King Chan, Servant Felix 🔗: Scared to Burn the Page Felix entered the room and stood like a statue until the doors shut. Even after, his demeanor was unusually sheepish. To be fair, a private meeting with the king is rarely ever a good thing. And depending on Felix’s reaction, it hopefully would be a great thing. “Relax,” Chan said, forcing a smile, “I didn't call you here to berate you. Quite the opposite actually.” “Oh,” Felix’s gait grew more confident as he approached the king, “So what am I here for, your majesty.”

🎃Day 8: Watersports/omorashi (DDDNE)

Rating: E Words: 3k Pairing: Poly skz (Jilix, Minsung, Chanlix) Main tags: Omorashi, Kink exploration, desperation, frottage 🔗: Take the Pleasure With the Pain, Double Doses “Have you ever heard of something called,” Felix paused for a moment as he tried to remember what it was properly called, “I think the term is, uhmm, Omorashi?” “DUDE!” Jisung nearly choked on his drink making Felix shrink against the wall, knocking over a broom in the process.

🎃 Day 9: One True Love (General List)

Rating: T Words: 3.1k Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Royalty AU, Prince Felix, Guard Chan, Post-break up, arranged marriage, true love conquers all 🔗: Pull Me Close and Twist the Knife Neither was happy about the arrangement. It was clear in the way that Jisu walked down the aisle. Her face drenched in tears of hopeless misery, more falling with each step. Felix, too, was crying as he looked at her with pity. They didn’t want this.

Day 10 (No post)

Day 11: Corruption Kink (DDDNE)

Rating: E Words: 2.6k (chapter 1) Pairing: Minsung Main Tags: Corruption kink, Church Retreat, Jisung is the pastors son, Minho is forced to be there, First times, Blow jobs “Are you ok? You seem down.” 🔗: Maybe Hell Ain't So Bad After All “Just peachy,” His voice was sweet but his lips had curled into a sarcastic snarl, “I was forced to be here so please if you aren't here to fuck me or feed me please leave me alone.” “O-oh okie-dokie then,”

Notes:

cw// Religious guilt, blasphemy, Negative talk about religion, implied homophobia This one has two chapters! Chapter two is coming on the 30th! But they can be read separately! title: If I'm There by Bad Omens

🎃 Day 11: PDA (General List)

Rating: T Words: 1k Pairing: Chanlix Main tags: Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Hiding in Plain Sight, Not so secret, Alcohol, Drunken Karaoke, Fluff 🔗: Hey, I Want Your PDA CW// Alcohol Changbin turned his chair to fully face Felix, “Are you ok?” “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jisung added as he turned in their direction as well. Felix tried to speak but the words kept getting caught in his throat. It didn’t help that Chan was giggling like a drunken fool beside him, “Wait d-did you not see—” “You did see a ghost! I knew this place was haunted!!” Jisung sounded way too excited about that.

🎃Day 12: Subspace/Domspace (General List)

Rating: E Words: 2.1k Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Canon Comp, Choking, Sub Felix, Dom Chan, Still somehow fluffy..., Subspace, Doms need reassurance too (Please read all the tags on the fic thoroughly) 🔗: You Always Wanna Run Your Mouth “Well that worked better than I thought,” Chan chuckled proudly, “Now, open wide.”

Day 13 (No Post)

🎃Day 14: Somno (DDDNE)

Rating: Explicit Words: 2.7K Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Somnophilia, Canon Compliant, Anal sex, Consensual Non-consent but even that is dubious, Angst and Fluff and Smut 🔗: I Don't Believe You When You Tell Me You Are Fine Then there was a comment on reddit he couldn’t get out of his head. “My girlfriend wakes me up with a blowjob every morning. 10/10 would recommend.”

🎃Day 15: Wearing Your Significant Others Clothing (Gen List)

Rating: E Words: 1.5k Pairing: Changjin Main Tags: Canon Compliant, Newlywed dorm, Smut, Frottage, fluffy smut! 🔗: If We Have Each Other “Hey, babe,” Hyunjin leaned inside the steamy bathroom, hanging onto the door frame, “Do you know where my clothes are?” Changbin moved the shower curtain enough to poke his head out. Despite the situation Hyunjin couldn’t help but giggle a little at the ball of white suds on top of Changbin’s head, running down his face, making him look like Santa Claus, “Shouldn’t they be in the bedroom?” “Yes, but I looked already,” Hyunjin whined, “It's not there.”

🎃Day 16: Dealers choice: Blood (DDDNE)

Rating: E Words: 4.4k Pairing: Minsung Main Tags: Blood, Blood as Lube, Violence, Fluff(yes fluff), Smut, Vamp/Human, Purgatory, Supernatural Crossover 🔗: Killed and Born Again His soul was never meant for purgatory. Yes, he was a hunter before he was turned and could survive here, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he had to survive here.

Notes:

CW// (It's DDDNE soooo yea) Blood, Vampire bites, Violence, Death The only context readers need to understand this if you haven't read any of the Love is The Death series is as follows: Jisung was a hunter turned vamp and was killed. Minho was a revenant who refused to crossover, but was eventually convinced by Chan and Felix. Chapter one is the smut and Chapter two is the plot for those that care to read it but it's not necessary if you are just here for kinktober lol!

🎃Day 17: Edging (DDDNE)

Rating: E Words: 2.7k Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Orgasm Edging, Orgasm denial, Technicaly CNC, Light BDSM, Canon comp, Felix is a stubborn brat CW// Consensual Non Consent (Felix can't say no or he loses the bet) 🔗: Take Me Past The Edge It was a stupid bet. He had been bragging about his stamina compared to Chan’s. A simple teasing remark to rile him up. Quickly it devolved into a competition and of course Felix felt the need to prove himself.

🎃Day 18: Praise Kink (General List)

Rating: E Words: 1.7k Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Praise kink, Canon comp, Unintentional Arousal, Chan is oblivious to what he's done, Hand Jobs, Cum swallowing, PWP 🔗: I am a Good Boy With a deep breath he tried again. It wasn’t much better in his opinion. “Loosen up a bit, shake it out! Your voice is beautiful, just project it a bit more forward on this next take, babe,” Felix could hear the smile in Chan’s voice, making him blush. Another take and Felix waited for feedback. It was taking a bit which put him on edge, “Mmhm, just like that,” with Chan’s voice over the intercom the anxiety lifted, “Let’s move on to the intro and first verse next, that was gorgeous Lix. Beautiful.”

🎃Day 19: Love At First Sight (General List)

Rating: T Words: 1.5k Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Mutual Pining, Not actually unrequited love, very light angst, FLUFF(yes in caps you think I'm gonna get love at first sight and not make it fluffy as fuck) 🔗: We Were Just Kids When We Fell In Love Seven years later “So let me get this straight, so you're telling me you have been in love with Felix from day one? He doesn’t know! AND you aren’t planning on telling him?!”

🎃Day 20: Will You Marry Me?

Rating: G Words: 1.6k Pairing: Changjin Main Tags: Fluff, marriage proposals, some humor, Canon Comp 🔗: I Love You and That's All I Really Know “You are going to what? Repeat that, please!” Chan stared back at Changbin with wide-eyed excitement. Jisung too was bouncing in his seat waiting for him to answer. “I am going to ask Hyunjin to marry me,” Changbin sighed, the relief of getting this massive secret off of his chest was immense. “When?! How?! I need all the details!” Jisung squealed back in excitement.

🎃Day 22: Kissing All of Them

Rating: T Words: 9k (7 chapters) Pairing: Felix-centric Polyskz Main Tags: Fluff, First kisses, poly skz, getting together, light angst, Canon Comp 🔗: Every Kiss Gets a Little Sweeter “I’ve never kissed anyone,” The alcohol had melted through Felix’s brain to mouth filter, he meant to say yes but the overwhelming insecurity hit him like a truck. “Wait,” Jisung rolled to the side and stared up at the ceiling in confusion, “You have three sexy ass boyfriends and you haven’t kissed any of them? Not even Chan?! Didn’t you ever play spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven? What did you do in school, study?!”

🎃Day 23: Aphrodisiacs

Rating: E Words: 2.4k Pairing: Chanlix Main Tags: Smut, canon comp, desperately horny, fluff(its chanlix its gonna still be sweet) 🔗: Fuck Me! No, Really Fuck Me! “How many did you eat?!” Jisung seemed exceedingly worried as he slammed the door behind them. “I dunno, like a handful? Were they special or something?” “I swear to god you keep this between me, you and Chan. Me and Minho take one after concerts before we head home… they have a mix of things that uhhhh spice things up.” “So they make you horny? That’s what's happening to me?” It made sense but this was way more intense than just a bit of extra spice.

[Main Masterlist]

#skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids #kinktober #Kinktober 2024 #Nymphare's Kinktober 2024

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spacelatinoluvr · 1 month ago

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THE WOLF & THE DRAGON (1/?) - aemond targaryen

series masterlist, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6

summary: To dance with dragons is to play with wolves. After surviving her own assassination attempt, Alarra Stark endured a large scar across her face, slicing her face in half. For years after Alarra was now known as "Alarra The Fierce" due to her ferocity at the young age, defending herself valiantly at merely thirteen-years-old. After then, she spent years training with her older brother, Cregan Stark, so that one day she could avoid the pain and suffering of anyone in her family; including herself. But, after those years spent training with men much larger than her, she is sent away and betrothed to Joffrey Velaryon for alliance towards the rightful heir to the Iron Throne: Rhaenyra Targaryen. Accompanying the family to Kingslanding, Alarra realized maybe marrying the young Velaryon boy wasn't so awful. But that was until she met a peculiar "one-eyed" prince. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!OC word count: 5.3k tags: slow burn, forbidden love, canon Aemond, enemies to lovers, long fic, original characters, war, arranged marriage warnings: blood and gore, extreme violence rating: 18+, !MDNI!

LITTLE FLAME

Alarra Stark was truly the most elegant in all of the North.

As a girl, Alarra was known for her beauty. Even amongst the seven kingdoms, her beauty was spoken of in hushed whispers amongst all that witnessed her: as if she were a myth or story to be proven false. Those who encountered her never second guessed her alluring blue eyes, like staring into the deep blue of The Narrow Sea. Her long red hair, always braided away from her face, displaying her breathtaking features. Freckles adorned her youthful face, like a painter had splattered brown specs across her face. Even though Alarra’s beauty was now a fact, not a myth among the inhabitants of Westeros, the people of the North had always remained in awe at the princess’s beauty. And through the years, her hair was the thing they remembered the most. Her long, thick red curly hair, that always blew in the wind as if the God’s were doing it with purpose. And when winter came, Alarra’s beauty flourished.

In all her years, the Seven had only blessed her with one winter. It lasted two years of Alarra’s youth, and she always remembered the feeling of her nose turning into a frozen nub, her cheeks pink and rosy as the air grew colder and bit at her skin. She remembered her and her brother playing in the harsh winter cold, throwing snow and laughing as their father yelled at them to get inside before they caught a cold. She remembered the good.

Winter is coming, she remembered her father spewing as he drank the sweetest wine of the Arbor.

Winter is coming, she remembered Cregan saying as he groomed the horses with her.

Winter is coming, she would repeat, as she held her head high and proud. Like a true Stark.

When winter did come, and the days got longer, it was brutal. But, Alarra found it tranquil; she found the beauty in the most unearthly things.

And that would ensue to be her downfall.

“Give it back!” Eight-year-old Alarra screamed as her older brother, Cregan, stole her knife made of wood hanging it teasingly above her head.

“Do you even know how to hold one of these properly?” Cregan tilted his head to the side, the question hanging in the air.

Silence.

And that was all Cregan needed before he smirked and waved the knife around once more. Alarra resumed her jumping, unable to grab the knife from her brother. Cregan had freshly turned one and three, and was now much much taller than Alarra. He seemed to like flaunting it.

“Cregan!” Alarra yelled, stopping her continuous jumping. Cregan paused his waving to let out a laugh.

“Here, let me show you…” Cregan motioned for Alarra to get closer and she did, a sour expression still on her face. Cregan paused, crouching down on her level.

“Now this here is the blade… see?” Cregan traced the pointy part of the wooden knife. Alarra’s expression then changed from glum to one of immense interest.

“And this… is the handle, you put your hand here- and don't hold it like you're holding a firefly-” Cregan then held Alarra’s hands guiding her to how to properly hold a real dagger. Alarra held the wooden dagger, stealing it from Cregan’s hands with a triumphant hum.

“And now my prince I must defend myself…” Alarra said, holding her head high, the dagger above her head. She slowly let the dagger fall, reaching the heart of Cregan Stark, twisting and making squelching noises as she went. Cregan groaned, falling to the ground, a tongue out of his mouth for great measure. Alarra giggled lightly, still clutching the dagger in her hand. But, as Alarra looked at Cregan, he had stopped moving, his eyes closed in bliss as he laid on the ground.

“Cregan?” Alarra got down on his level, sitting by his head, worry etched on her features. Cregan was always there for Alarra and she couldn't remember a time when they were not together. Being apart from him was like stealing the moon from the sun. She could not bear it. But, then all of a sudden, Cregan let out a roar, making Alarra squawk and jump backwards.

“Cregan! That’s not funny. I truly thought I had pierced your heart!” Cregan laughed loudly at this. How could his kind little sister hurt him?

“Oh.. with that?” Cregan questioned, still laughing. Alarra reached towards him, hitting him on the arm, making him let out a loud noise in protest.

“I'm telling father!” Alarra exclaimed, standing quickly and running out of the room. The large doors closed behind her as she ran out, through the garden outside and up the large stairs towards her fathers chambers. But, when she arrived, guards and servants were frantically running around, in and out of his chambers. A guard ran past Alarra almost running her over and she gasped, clutching her chest. A hand was then placed on her shoulder, making her turn around quickly.

“My lady…” Alarra’s handmaiden, Eyla, was staring at her with concern.

“You should not be here- where is your brother?” Alarra glanced behind the handmaiden to see Cregan, face grim and hard, approaching her.

“Cregan, what's going on?” Cregan ignored her, continuing his path towards their father’s chambers. Alarra followed closely behind, ignoring the protests of her handmaiden.

Two guards were posted outside of the chambers, frantically scanning Cregan, proud and tall and Alarra’s frame, meek and small. Cregan had said something to the guard but Alarra was not listening because only the worst scenarios had started to display in her mind. Then suddenly, Cregan barged past the two guards, opening the chamber doors with immense force. Alarra followed shortly behind him, her hands clutched tightly in front of her.

Cregan seemed to have a mind of his own, walking towards the large bed across the room. The maester stood by the bed, seeming to be speaking to their father. At the sight of that, Cregan’s shoulders visibly lowered tension leaving his back.

The room smelled old; like dusty books or an old library. Alarra paused her movements when she got to the edge of the bed, and Cregan walked towards the maester.

“What's happened, Maester?” Cregan asked, standing next to him. The maester’s expression dropped, turning to face Cregan.

“Please sit, my lord.” Cregan paused, looking behind his shoulder at Alarra.

“Leave us.”

“But, my lord-”

“I said: leave us.” Cregan bellowed, staring at his father lying on the bed, unmoving.

The maester bowed silently, shuffling out of the room, his quiet footsteps echoing around them.

A cough, sounding like the last gasp of a ghoul, carried through the room and Cregan instantly moved to sit beside their father. Alarra stayed at the edge of the bed, now able to see her fathers deathly pale face. Her father was an alabaster statue, as if he was frozen in time and breath. Another cough rang, and Alarra could visibly see the strain it left on her father.

“My boy…” He whispered, turning to Cregan.

“Father what-”

“No, Cregan you mustn't speak. Listen to me.”

Cregan stopped, like he was holding his breath waiting for father to speak.

“You are my heir. The Lord of Winterfell in a moon’s set-”

“Father-” Cregan protested, his voice cracking.

“Let me finish, please,” Their father started, breathing heavily. Cregan swallowed down his words, nodding.

“You are my boy. My heir, my only boy,” He paused to take a breath.

“You will be the Lord of Winterfell. You will be the King of the North, do you hear me?” Father said, more sternly this time. Cregan had become quiet and still before he spoke again.

“Yes, Father. I-”

“Protect her. Always. I will be right beside you.”

“Always.”

“You will see me again. Whether it’s in the wind whistling the trees before bed or under the dirt, you will see me again, my son.” Their father grasped Cregan’s hand, tightly holding it as best as he could in his weak grip.

“Alarra,” Cregan whispered, turning his head to meet her eyes.

Alarra was standing quietly at the edge of the bed still, her eyes red and she was gasping quietly as she cried. Her father put his hand out, calling her to him. Alarra ran to her father’s side of the bed, getting on her knees beside Cregan.

“Father…” She weeped, eyes wet and cheeks red.

“My firecracker…” Her father said, reaching a hand to her face, using his thumb to wipe a tear away. His hand shook as he rose it, using all of his remaining power. Alarra sniffled her nose running now as she let her tears flow. Cregan put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“Alarra Stark, you will always be a firecracker. Don’t you ever let anyone stop you. No boy, no prince, no scary spider wanting to bite you!” Her father smiled, as Alarra laughed through her sob. Her father started to cough again, this time into a white rag. The cough was more violent, and the lord’s eyes were red and bloodshot. But, it was not from crying.

“When you were still a babe, your mother would say you had not cried once when you came into this world. Into our arms. A babe, silent as the night sky but the stars could not compare to your beauty, my love.” Alarra smiled as best as she could manage through the tears.

“My flourishing flower,” He whispered, grasping her cheek. “You are a true vision of your mother.”

“But, promise me one thing,” He started to say, coughing as he spoke. Alarra’s eyes were glued to her father, as he smiled with love for his children.

“Promise me that you will be true.” He spoke in a hushed tone, eyes glossed over with endearment.

“I promise.” She said, her head held high, lip quivering. I promise that I will always remain a true Stark. And no one, not a boy, a man, or a creature will stop me.

Rickon Stark smiled, glancing at both of his children, a Stark’s visionary.

“You must shine bright my little flame…no matter how small you feel, always shine bright.”

And that is exactly what Alarra did.

On Alarra’s one and three name day, she had begun her path to womanhood. And that path to womanhood had skewed into a path of knighthood.

Alarra had awoken early that morning, before the birds were chirping and the sun began to stream into her room. She was ecstatic. Today she was to be a woman.

“Eyla?” Alarra was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress. She was wearing something new, something that she wasn’t used to. She didn’t realize how much her…chest had seemed to grow overnight. Or at least it felt like that to her.

“Yes, my lady?” Eyla was bent down on the ground, fanning Alarra’s dark blue dress around her.

“How do you know you're truly a woman?” She asked meekly, as Eyla stood wiping her hands on her legs.

“Well that’s up to you, my lady. You choose what makes you feel like a woman.” Eyla stated.

“How did you know?” Alarra questioned, playing with her fingers. Eyla smiled, still looking at the ground.

“When I was ten, I bled in the night. And my mother threw me out, telling me I was a woman and I could fend for myself. But, I didn't feel like a woman. I was still a child. It wasn't until I was one and five that I knew that women have power. More than a man ever will.”

“I haven't bled yet and-”

“My lady, enjoy it. Bleeding is not a celebration.” Eyla wrapped an arm around Alarra, stroking her arm.

“Then why do people rejoice at the sight of it?”

“Because men’s heads are hollow, my lady.” Eyla clasped her hands together.

“Now, let me see your dress! How beautiful you look.” Eyla looked Alarra up and down, scanning her. Alarra’s cheeks turned red and she laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you, Eyla.” Alarra whispered, smiling at the ground, putting her hands on her cheeks. Bashful as a rabbit.

“Since you are one and three, let me teach you a lesson.” Alarra groaned, dropping her hands from her face.

“A lesson. It’s my name day!”

“It’s fun, trust me my lady.” Eyla smirked at Alarra, and turned her so she was facing the mirror again, Eyla behind her.

“Women have something men don’t…” Elya started, stopping behind Alarra, looking at her through the mirror.

“We can speak with our very eyes.” She whispered, clutching Alarra between her hands, grasping at her shoulders.

“How so?” Alarra questioned, eyebrows furrowed into a line.

“Men cannot help but express their emotions,” Eyla said, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “It is in their blood.”

Alarra’s eyes watched her handmaiden through the mirror, waiting for her to speak again. Eyla stepped next to Alarra, still looking at her through the mirror.

“Watch my eyes…” Alarra nodded quickly. Eyla’s eyes were wide and doe-like at first; like large brown deer pupils. But, just as fast her eyes darkened, a seductive look on her face. Eyla then returned her gaze back to a more tame and blissful look. Eyla smiled at Alarra through the mirror, moving to stand behind her again, before speaking.

“As women we must use our… assets to our advantage.” Eyla pushed her hand between Alarra’s shoulder blades, and Alarra subconsciously bound her chest out.

“Assets?” Alarra blurted out, uncertainty in her voice.

“Our bosoms of course!” Eyla then chuckled at Alarra’s red face.

“You know what a breast is-”

“Yes, I know,” Alarra huffed, slightly annoyed. “I'm not a child anymore. I am one and three!”

“And what a special age that is, my lady.” Eyla grinned at Alarra through the mirror again, putting both her hands on her shoulders and squeezing.

“I trust the Gods will treat you well this year.” But, Eyla had been wrong. And the Gods’ had punished her that year.

Throughout the day, Alarra had been rained with compliments on her new attire. How grown she looked in blue. How her eyes popped, the blue more prominent, in this dress. Her brother had gotten her a gift, and sat with her in the garden, as the sun was starting to set.

Cregan pulled the gift from behind his back. It was long and pointy and covered in a white cloth.

“Open it.” He said handing it to her. Alarra slowly slid the cloth off to reveal a long slender dagger. Alarra gasped, feeling its hilt and tracing her fingers along the dull side of the blade.

“This is Valyrian steel- how did you-”

“The Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch gave it to me… I feel better acquainted with a sword than a tiny knife.” Cregan’s eyes had creased as he flashes Alarra a thin-lipped smile. He seemed nervous and he was visibly fidgeting with his hands; something Alarra regularly did when she was uncertain.

Then, Alarra jumped pulling Cregan into a tight hug. Cregan let out a groan at the harshness (his shoulders were sore from training maliciously), but wrapped his arms around her small frame regardless .

“Thank you.” She whispered, as he tightened his grip on his little sister, his arms almost engulfing her whole.

“I'll teach you how to use it properly, now that this one isn't wooden.” He said teasingly, as she pulled away from him her hands still on his shoulders.

“I promise not to pierce your heart.” She giggled after her statement, taking her hands away from Cregan’s broad frame.

“Now that is true Valyrian steel. Keep it wrapped in the cloth until tomorrow. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

That night, while Alarra lay in bed, still awake deep into the Castle’s slumber, she laid next to her new friend: the dagger of Valyrian steel. The dagger was sitting next to her, on the thin white bed sheets and Alarra couldn't help but admire its craftsmanship-

Wind blew through the window, the white curtains waving in the soft breeze, and she held her breath. But Alarra had not left the window open. In fact, she specifically remembered closing them. Alarra briskly sat up, looking around the room, scanning for something out of place.

“You're supposed to be asleep.” A low, deep voice rang through her quiet room and Alarra jumped, opening her lips to scream. But, a hand wrapped around her mouth, shoveling her cries down her throat. She wept and wept, kicking and waving her hands above her head as a man, whose face she couldn't see masked by a black cloth, put a knife to her throat. She squirmed, but stopped when the cool metal of the dagger was at her throat.

“Stop. Moving.” He gritted out. Alarra could feel the shake of his hand, a sign he was either nervous or very close to slitting her throat. Alarra screamed loudly in his sweaty palm, as she slashed with her fingers at his face. Her fingers caught his skin, and he let out a groan, covering his left eye.

“You bitch-” He grumbled moving towards her again, but she put her arms out in front of her, speaking for the first time.

“You have about five seconds to kill me before the guards find you… 5, 4-” The man yelled as he slashed at her but she moved slightly, so he'd miss his dagger going into her feather pillow. Alarra rolled off the bed, grabbing her own dagger as she did, staring at the man across from her. Then, her vision got blurry and- red? Alarra groaned as she lifted her hand to her face, red blood covered her sight and hand, smelling the metallic. She laughed, looking up at the man that was now staring at her. His dagger tightly clutched in his hand.

“You nicked me…” Alarra huffed in disbelief, staring at the blood on her hand. Suddenly, the man launched forward across the bed, yelling as he crawled across the bed reaching her. Alarra gasped, dropping the dagger as he pushed her against the wall, choking her throat with his hand. Alarra coughed, hitting his hand, over and over again but he didn't budge. He was strong, stronger than a thirteen-year-old girl, but not skilled. He was messy, and seemed to be running on his anger and not his strategy. Alarra had noticed how he was still shaking, and he breathed heavily squeezing tightly on her throat. Now, Alarra could no longer breathe and she let out short gasps of air.

The man had made a mistake. He was facing her, his lower area facing her in the perfect position- and she kicked, hard, at his prized jewels. He released her, falling to his knees in agony, groaning and moaning. Alarra fell to the ground, coughing violently. She held her chest, looking around for the dagger- her dagger. The dagger was still on the ground and she grabbed it quickly.

“Cunt!” He screamed, and he opened his mouth again to yell but before he could, a dagger positioned itself between his eyes, and blood curdled slowly, covering both his eyes like tears. He was crying blood. She pulled the dagger out, letting a sob fall out from her pink lips. Alarra screamed as she let the dagger hit his skull again, cracking through skin and bone. And she slashed down again and again and again until his body was limp against the bed frame. Alarra straddled his unmoving waist, letting her dagger fall on his face again until his eyes were red holes and his face was spotted in cuts. And now, it wasn't only her own blood that covered her but one of the armed man.

I will always remain a true Stark. And no one, not a boy, a man, or a creature will stop me.

And she kept hitting until hands reached around hers, and she screamed, fighting the person behind her. Her brother had to pull her off of the man, his face now mutilated and unrecognizable.

“It’s me, Alarra.” Her brother whispered, and she dropped to her knees on the ground as he swept her into a hug. Alarra let out a cry of relief as she smelled the musk of her older brother. And she was safe. Cregan held her that night, until morning came, as she cried and the guards took away the disfigured body of the unknown man.

The next day, Alarra bathed until her fingers turned to prunes and the water was ice cold. Her handmaid told her that the water would leave her with a runny nose but she never felt clean. She scrubbed herself until she was raw, like a newborn babe. But she still saw the blood; the way his face felt soft and slick after stabbing it so many times, the way she felt him die beneath her, the way she had almost died, the way she had beat the clutches of death. She escaped the hands of the Seven.

Alarra demanded that her brother teach her how to protect herself, for there would be a time when he would not be there to keep her safe. Alarra was already learning hand-by-hand combat and archery, but decided to focus solely on her swordsmanship. Soon enough, Alarra was a growing prodigy. Courtesy of her older brother of course, but a prodigy nonetheless. Death from the Mother above taught Alarra how to preserve, how to push herself. After beating death, Alarra became a beautiful yet valiant knight with no title to claim.

The first time Alarra looked at her face she wept. She wept for hours. Her face was ruined. A princess with a scar. And it wasn't minuscule. It wasn't a small scar, it was a ginormous line running from the top of her forehead, to the bottom of her chin. Instead of whispers of her heavenly beauty or her hair, they were now filled with whispers of the girl that defeated death. Whispers of the princess with a slash. Whispers of a killer: a savage. Whispers now contained a new nickname, one Alarra was proud to coin.

They called her, Alarra the Fierce.

“Alarra you must not attack your opponent with your sword- lead with your legs- yes just like that!”

Alarra was now freshly one and five, and through two years her swordsmanship had increased and her level of fighting was, as Cregan liked to put it, incredible. The sound of their swords clashing against the other echoed through the training room, and the castle’s staff walked in and out and about the halls but not before glancing at the pair. Both were breathing heavily before Cregan laughed, losing his balance a little at Alarra’s push. Alarra let her guard down before she eventually fell backwards, the tip of Cregan’s sword at her neck.

“You lost focus. And when your life's on the line, will you lose focus then?” Alarra scoffed from the ground as Cregan held his hand out to her. She took it, begrudgingly, and stood next to him. Alarra bit her lip, taking her gloves off before throwing them harshly on the ground.

“I thought you were going to fall-”

“Excuses.” Alarra let out a loud sigh, shaking her head. Both of the siblings removed their armor, before exiting the training hall. One thing about Alarra was that she was stubborn. Whenever she messed up she vowed to never make the same mistake twice. They walked in silence, comfortable silence, until two servants passed them, whispering to each other, their heads low. Alarra caught the last bits of their conversation and realized they were talking about her.

“They whisper as I pass them, brother.”

“Let them. It means they are fearful. And fear will only take you far in this world.” Cregan’s strides were wide but Alarra was able to keep up with him, walking next to his now manly body.

“And what if I don't want people to fear me?”

“Would you rather them love you? Admire you?”

“Yes! I very much would.” Cregan stopped walking, and turned his head to look at Alarra. Her hair was loosely tied into a braid that had been falling out due to their training.

“I want people to love me like they did father. I want them to admire me not… “ Cregan stared at her as she looked beyond him at another passing servant, who hurriedly walked past them. “The first thing they see is this.” Alarra pointed at her scar.

“The first thing they see is your face.” Cregan smirked, crossing his arms.

“No I mean- I only mean that they think I'm some savage.”

“You are Alarra the Fierce, are you not?”

“Yes, but-”

“That name was given to you. You earned it. Don’t let the opinions of others dictate how you carry that name. Embrace it. You are Alarra the Fierce. You are The Princess that Lived. People respect you because of that, and fear is just the outcome of deep honor,” Cregan paused to gather his thoughts.

“Respect is something to be earned, and you earned it the day you were born. You have always been Alarra the Fierce…it was just a matter of when you would realize it.” Cregan then pulled Alarra into a deep hug, smelling like sweat and dirt. Alarra scrunched her nose, as Cregan pushed away from her.

“And Alarra the Fierce smells like she needs a bath.”

The raven had arrived in the morning, calling upon Cregan Stark to visit Dragonstone. The letter had no details that Alarra knew of, and she had remained curious until the day of his departure.

“Can I please come? I hear Jacaerys Velaryon is one of the most handsome in the realm.” Alarra started biting her lip, knowing she'd get a rise out of her older brother. Cregan stopped walking to turn to her, a piece of hair over his right eye.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Alarra sighed, kicking at the grass on the ground.

“And why not?” She asked quietly, still walking closely behind him.

“Because I said so, Alarra.” Cregan said sternly this time and Alarra huffed, rolling her blue eyes that contrasted from her brothers hazel ones. “You are not coming to Dragonstone with me. Have I made myself clear?”

“I am not a child.”

“Yet you act like one, no?”

Alarra bit her cheek, staring at the ground. She was now one and six, slightly annoyed that her older brother always teased her of her age.

“I have never left the North-.”

“Alarra you know why-”

“Yes, yes you vowed to protect me. But, you know damn well I can protect myself.” Alarra spat, walking towards Cregan.

“If I have the ability to protect you, I would do it over again if it means you are safe. I do not care how angry you are at me, as long as you are breathing.” Cregan stepped towards her, as much as he was annoyed, and left a kiss on the top of her head whilst pulling her into a half-hug.

“Cregan-” Cregan stepped away from her and started walking backwards.

“I will see you in two moons. Ser Wildrow will be with you when I am not.”

“Cregan-!”

And Cregan turned, stomping towards a carriage and disappearing beyond the wall.

Prick.

Two moons had come and gone, and all Alarra had done was train with Ser Wildrow. As much as Ser Wildrow didn't want to admit- he knew Alarra was just as skilled as her older brother. But, there was something different. Something in her eyes that shined. Everytime she had the upper hand her eyes gleamed, a frightening look overtaking her soft feminine features.

“I yield!” Ser Wildrow shouted, breathing heavily as his knees buckled under Alarra’s push.

“Your age is showing, Ser.” Alarra smirked as she started to take off her armor. Though Ser Wildrow wasn’t very old, not much older than her father would've been, she still enjoyed teasing the man.

Ser Wildrow was still on the ground, gradually standing.

“And you just seem to be getting better by the moon, Alarra the Fierce.” Alarra flinched at the nickname. Her alias had come from a night she wanted to forget. She lightly traced the scar with her hand, turning to face Ser Wildrow again.

“Will you bring me to the Wall?”

“Absolutely not, my lady.”

“But, I am Alarra the Fierce. And Alarra the Fierce should be able to visit the wall if she pleases.” Alarra declared, her nose pointed upwards.

Ser Wildrow stared at her for a moment, before he sighed.

“It’s as if you wish for my head on a stick, my lady.”

Ser Wildrow and Alarra were now thousands of feet in the air staring down at the deep, deep snowy landscape beneath her. Her breath fanned around her and she shivered at the cold, having not felt it since she was a child.

“Tis cold.” She murmured, shoving her hands beneath her fur coat.

Ser Wildrow laughed.

“I warned you, did I not my lady?” He smiled at her, burrowing further into his own fur coat.

“Mhm…” She grumbled, whispering profanities under her breath.

“Cregan will have your head if he finds out.”

“You worry too much.”

Silence ensued and the only sound was the wind blowing harshly against them.

“We are very high.”

“Exactly seven hundred feet that spans across three hundred miles from the Ban of Seals to the Gorge, my lady.”

Alarra stared at the fire next to them.

“Why has my brother gone to Dragonstone?”

“It is not my place to say.”

“The Heir to the Iron Throne must have a reason to summon my brother.”

Ser Wildrow remained silent, gazing at the sky that was darkening.

“It is getting dark, my lady-” Ser Wildrow started, looking back up at Alarra from the fire.

“- and your brother will be back in the morrow.”

Cregan stepped out of the carriage, his feet meeting the thick grass of Winterfell. Cregan’s eyes first met his sister’s. She encompassed a wide smile as she ran towards him, giving him a large hug. She pulled away, grinning widely.

“So, is Prince Jacaerys as handsome as they say?” She asked, laughing as her brother rolled his eyes pushing her away lightly.

“You will have to make that decision yourself.”

“Mhm… and you'll let me beyond these walls when I am merely dust and bone.”

Cregan remained silent, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He’s hiding something.

“Alarra-” A smile graced Alarra’s face and her eyes widened, almost popping out of her skull.

“You’re letting me leave? I get to leave the North? After all these years?” Alarra stepped towards Cregan surveying his face, but he sighed putting two fingers on his temple.

“Alarra, let’s go inside-” Cregan reached a hand to pull her arm with him, towards the hall but Alarra shoved his arm away.

“No. Tell me now.” She ordered, tipping her chin upwards. A confident gesture. But, the next words that escaped his mouth were not something the Princess of the North were thinking she’d hear. She was hoping she could be free. Travel the country of Westeros with her elder brother by her side. Hence never leaving his side or the city of Winterfell, she yearned to escape. To leave. To see what lies beyond the clutches of an eerie landscape with nothing but trees and people like herself. But, she was now to be locked away in another castle, far away from her brother.

“I have given your hand to Joffrey Velaryon.”

A/N: Hi! Thank you so so much for reading! This is my first time ever posting or writing a fanfiction so please leave me some feedback. LMK if theres any corrections to be made or grammatical/spelling errors! This chapter is mainly to introduce you to the FMC (Alarra Stark, my OC) and to give you a glimpse into her past and future. Her and Aemond wont meet for two more chapters, so stay tuned!

PS I am NOT finished with Game of Thrones but I AM finished with House of the Dragon so let me know if i made any canon mistakes and if not it is now fanon! Lol and no spoilers please

#aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark #hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond x you #aemond smut

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