#but hes your bodyguard for months!!!
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lovewhump · 5 days ago
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ok, yeah, recap chapter completely glossed over San Gang, its okay, im fine
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multishipper-baby · 1 year ago
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Having more AU and eakwynn brainrot, as expected.
#FHS: Farewell Despair Highschool#eakwynn#anyway. post game thoughts because yes#don't think I mentioned this before but I like the idea of people sharing rooms once everyone is awake#since all of their mental healths are so precarious it's best for everyone to have a buddy in case of anything bad#be it nightmares flashbacks panic attacks or violent impulses. always easier to manage with someone at your side#the issue comes with owynn who... is kind of too volatile to be considered for this at first#they give him his own room separate from the others until they can be sure he's not immediately dangerous#so for about a month owynn is on his own. the others try to slowly incorporate him but they're all wary#until eventually the idea of him having a partner is brought up. and eak offers himself as a possible partner#the issue being: he's about the worst possible candidate to be roomed with owynn#he'd been sharing with cami and towntrap for a while and they've been taking care of him. but his situation is complicated#not only is there his whole killing game motive that messed his mind up pretty bad#but as owynn's bodyguard during the apocalypse he's trauma bonded to him pretty hard#and pre tragedy he was one of the first owynn managed to manipulate into ultimate despair#freddy remarks on all of this. eak feels babied and patronized to so he doubles down#and since he's the only one who offered to room with owynn... they eventually allow it. with one condition#someone else will have to share the room with them to supervise that there's no conspiracy or attempted murder or#other possible really messed up stuff happening while the two are alone#eak accepts and owynn doesn't really get a choice on the matter so now they have a chaptone. yay#owynn is kind of... feeling some way over eak wanting to spend time with him despite everything#so he slowly (very slowly) starts to open up to him and be a little more receptive to. not being a gremlin#he doesn't immediately get better obviously. he often tries to get a rise out of the others and continues to not feel sorry#he still occasionally thinks of trying to murder someone else- damn the consequences#but- well. he's away from all his worst influences and surrounded by people who are trying to heal and it starts to rub off on him#and listen. I'm weak for the idea of owynn finally getting redeemed and being able to date eak and being happy#I don't think he's ever entirely ''fixed''. some of the horrible shit always manages to prevail#(for example: he still thinks about the tragedy as ultimately a good thing. especially now that it allowed him to be happy)#but he manages to become healthy enough to have a relationship with eak without it being abusive or harmful#it'll take a while though but they'll get there someday
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vrag-veshtica · 1 year ago
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I want Macao's POV here like what part of this did he understand apart from Vegas being in love but I'm sure that's also pretty out there
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Why? Why are you still here? I can’t run off to anywhere. If you run now, I’m alright with that. I got nothing left.
Bible Wichapas as VEGAS & Build Jakapan as PETE KINNPORSCHE THE SERIES (2022) dir. Khom Kongkiat Khomsiri
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months ago
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just for tonight
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a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?”��
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 
Barely an hour passed before you woke. 
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 
“To what, huh?” 
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 
“I want you to fuck me, please!” 
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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enhard · 17 days ago
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⋆˙⟡ monster | lee heeseung
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: when two rivals in an entertainment company turned late-night lovers, no strings attached… or is it something else?
pairing: ceo!l.hs x fem!reader
CW: smut, enemies to fwb to lovers trope??, pwp (3 smut scenes omg), hate sex, age gap: heeseung is 29, reader is 24, usage of condoms, riding, oral sex (both receiving), cum eating, some pet names, insults?, lots of profanity lmk if i missed anything
notes: couldn’t stop thinking about this while listening to monster by gaga. crazycrazy
wc: 7.3k words (MDNI)
There was only one thing you hated more than useless things in your timetable. It was the asshole of the whole company, Lee Heeseung. The more conversations you heard his name in, the more you despised his existence.
His ego was so high it could hit a plane, the way he would talk about his compositions made you wanna throw up. He praised himself so much, and you started wondering if he was just a huge narcissist or if we were insecure of his writing skills. Luckily, you never saw him around often as you were really caught up in your own work. Having to compose songs all the time for singers was not an easy task. Your chairman was an even bigger asshole than Heeseung, always giving you all the work. You had to not only compose songs from start to finish, but you also had to edit and mix the voices, help the singers use the right tones and so much more stuff that wasn’t originally included in your job plan.
Usually, you would stay at the office overtime, your eyes darkened with tiredness. It was a miracle you haven’t fallen asleep all this time.
 You looked at the time,
 [01:54 AM]
“Great.” You sigh. Your shift ended at 12 AM. What the fuck are you still doing here? It’s quiet in the whole building, only clicking sounds can be heard from your keyboard. You’re all alone with a few bodyguards left in the company. You groan, your head pounding from the intense light of your pc. All you want now is to get back to your apartment just to greet your cat Juno.  He’s your only best friend in this cursed city of New York, he’s a soft and fluffy black and white cat, with heterochromia eyes, left eye blue and right eye brown. You talk to him all the time, even though he can’t hold conversations he’s the best listener you’ve ever encountered. Better than your ex-boyfriends, that’s for sure.
As the clock reads [02:29], you’re more than ready to go home. You gather all your things, wish a great night to all the security people there and finally get out of that stupid building. You get your car keys out of your bag, driving home in your black i8. When you get home you feed your cat, finally plopping in your bed and falling asleep instantly.
You woke up due to your phone ringing at around 10 am with the hugest headache you’ve had. You palm your forehead, grabbing your phone with your other hand. Your co-worker, Yena, is calling you. You pick up as fast as you can, moaning into the phone due to being exhausted out of your mind.
“Yeah… Yena hey….” You say with half a mouth.
“Hey girl, are you coming to work? Today’s the showcasing, have you forgotten?”
Oh, fucking hell. You totally forgot.
A showcasing happens when all composers need to show the work they did in a few months’ time. You need to turn in all the songs you’ve made in this time, whilst competing with your other co-workers to be the best one, getting the title of the best songwriter of the month. Your company likes making leaderboards, only adding onto your stress of being the best. Of course, last month’s songwriter was Heeseung, but you thought the judges were so biased over him… you knew you could take him down this month.
“Right… I’ll be there soon just let me get ready.” You say, already dreading the idea of getting out of bed.
She hangs up, letting you wash up quickly. You fix up your hair, put on your suit and do a bit of makeup. You get your badge with your name on it and out you are. By the time you arrive at the company you’re already late… the higherups there scolding you for it.
“Please try to make it on time, you know how important this is.”
You sigh. How could they expect you to be there early when you went home at almost 3 AM last night?
“Okay, okay I’m sorry. I’m here now.” You add.
After you come out of your office to get your suitcase that had your files, you bump into the last person you wanted to see there. He throws you a cheeky smile, not even apologizing for giving you a shoulder.
“Oh, if it isn’t the famous miss L/n! Ready to get your dreams crushed by my songs again?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms. “Yeah right, like I’d let a scumbag like you take my title. I don’t have anything to prove to you, stay in your lane.”
He raises his eyebrows at your response, as you would normally walk away if he told you anything. “Oh is it miss complaint now? Let me actually show you how this job is done, im your ceo for a reason.” he suddenly stops smiling to give you a glare.
“You don’t intimidate me Mr. Lee, right on the contrary, you make me want to laugh.” you say and turn around, not wanting to waste your time with such a man. His sleek smile creeps back onto his face as he walks into his own office.
A few minutes later, you get back to the front, everyone already waiting there with their work. You stand next to Yena, holding the tank of papers in hand tightly.
Yena could tell you’re nervous, so she extended one hand up to yours just to squeeze it, calming you down a bit. Your other co-workers were not a threat at all, but Heeseung was the one person you wanted to bring down. You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face. After much judging and testing, with recitals and rehearsals for the songs, the judges finally decided the points accorded to the candidates. The others already had way too little points to worry you, but you, Yena and Heeseung were left.
“Choi Yena, 127 points.” She sighed of relief. A sizeable number overall, but now it depends on what you and Heeseung did.
“Lee Heeseung, 140 points.” His eyes widen. There is a chance that you might win. You might take him over… You might take his place. No way, right?
After a good minute of silence, they finally list your points.
“L/n Y/n, 139 points.” You almost fall to your knees. Out of all chances, how could this happen to you?? You close your eyes and cover your ears before you go insane.
You let him win, again.
“Therefore, our winner this month will be Lee Heeseung, the winner of the last 3 months as well, Congratulations!” all you hear is buzzing in your ears. You grow sour of his name, of his voice, his face. You can’t stand his dumb mouth, dumb face, dumb voice. You can’t stand him at all, and you would do anything to see him fired or something. You know that won’t happen and it drives you crazy. Heeseung smiles, taking his prize in hand once again, his portrait remaining on the fame wall. He shakes hands with the judges before taking a good look at you.
You cannot look at him anymore, you just lower your gaze trying not to burst into tears. You worked so hard for this, yet he took away all your hope for a win. You storm out the room, sitting down at your desk to throw your head down on the wooden table.
One point. Seriously. This is ridiculous.
Well, you take a deep breath and continue with your shitty day. At some point in time, you get a knock on your office door. “Come in.” you say as you raise your eyes up to see who it is. “Oh Yena, hey.. sorry for not saying anything earlier…” you bite your lip.
“Don’t consume yourself over it, hey, that dude is a douche, okay? Do not let him get to you. You are better than him anyway.”
“Am I though? I mean… What if he is simply better than me. What if his songs are better than mine? What if his lyrics have more meaning than mine?”
“He is not better than you, and even if he will be proven to be, which I doubt, don’t ever let him know you think that.”
“I can’t be a narcissist just like him, Yena. If I am not as good as someone, I will take the responsibility on my shoulders and admit it.”
“See you’re already better than him, he would never” She laughs. You laugh back, although in your soul goes a fight between your ego and sincerity.
. . .
After the day ends, you finally go home early, not giving two fucks about what they might say or think, it is your right after all. Too bad that you get a message you dreamed of never getting, too bad it happened.
HELIX ENTERTAINMENT
“Good evening, members of the company. We are delighted to announce that tomorrow there will be a collaboration project between each other. The groups are arranged by the organisers, and they follow the lines of:
Now scrolling through all the pages, you search for your name. Oh, what are the chances.
Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n”
Of course this had to happen, it would not have been you if it were not for your amazing luck.
“Oh, suck on it seriously.” You look at your phone in disbelief, while making yourself tea. “Juno can you believe this? This man is going to ruin my image and my life. I can’t stand him anymore I swear I might kill someone if this keeps happening.” Juno meows, probably because he wants a bit of peace, but you still took that as an agreement to what you said. “I know, I know. I guess it will be okay… hope he doesn’t ruin my career for life with this. I do not trust him.”
The next day, you shake your head while getting out of your car, glaring at the tall building with huge windows. You always glare while looking at it, but somehow this time was different. It wasn’t because you hated your job, it was because you had to see your partner. All the people who greeted you in the halls got a cold response, or no response at all. Might have been a shitty thing to do but honestly you weren’t in the mood for anything anymore. You just wanted this day to be over.
When you get into Heeseung’s office, seeing him rummaging through his papers, you just stood in the doorway… waiting for him to finish his work. He raises his head to look at you, his mood getting insignificantly worse when his eyes met yours. Before he gets to sigh, you cut him off.
“The feeling is mutual. I usually try to act nice, but I just cannot stand you no matter how hard I try.” You cross your arms while he goes back to his papers. “Then take a seat.” He responds in the coldest way, only making you furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Okay damn…” you say under your breath while grabbing a chair to sit in front of his desk.
There are a few moments of silence, but you decide to ask him about the collaboration, same reason you’re here right now.
“Heese-” “It’s Mr. Lee for you.” You clear your throat annoyed. “Mr. Lee, I am only here to ask you about what we must do, can we focus on that?”
“Why would I make a project with someone as bad at writing as you?” he looks up at you again. You bite your cheek, barely being able to stand him anymore. You just look down to your thighs, grasping your palms together anxiously. Yuna told you to never be weak in front of him, but how could you not when he was so right?
“Please refrain from insulting my work and just take the organisations words, they put us together for this, so we need to do it.”
“If I let you work on this, you will just embarrass me in front of thousands of people. How about you just let me handle this? Go home, enjoy your days off. I’ll give you the credit.”
“You cannot just do everything alone; I do not care about days off I just want to work on this too. Please Mr. Lee.”
That is the first time he’s ever heard you say please to him. He hated your presence just as much as you hated his, why must you be at each other’s throats all the time? Simply because of rivalry or did other frustrations arise from both parties?
He licks his lips, finally giving in. “You can work on it with me Y/n. Just don’t disappoint me.”
“I promise I won’t. This matters so much to me.”
You follow him to his studio; he lets you get in first and that is when he locks the door behind you. You both sit down next to each other while you work on the song. He keeps acting weird throughout the recording and editing process, changing poses multiple times in a few minutes, sighing and fidgeting with his fingers. Halfway through the song you place your hand on his while looking at him. “Mr. Lee, are you feeling okay?”
That is when he sighs, snatching his hand away from yours and turning the pc off. He turns to you, keeping his eye contact consistent. “Y/n… i’ve just been feeling frustrated. Just forget it. Let’s focus on the song.”
Now you cannot say that you care about him, but you’re still curious to see what this is about. “Oh, is that so? Frustrated in what kind? Someone like you has feelings?”
He glares at you. “Not in the way you’d think, anyway.” You tilt your head. “But how? Tell me now, i’m curious.” “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut, it’s none of your business.” “Just because you’re my superior does not mean you gotta talk to me like that, bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “Oh, that’s it.” He suddenly grabs onto your neck, pulling you closer. He’s still so gentle but it’s enough force to make you struggle to talk. “Is this what it’s about...? A... are you sexually frustrated…?” You tease. He releases the grasp on your neck and looks down at his hands. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s hard being alone when you’re pushing 30 you know.”
You had no idea what was happening right now, but you definitely enjoyed the attention you got. You were equally as touch starved as he was, and it was making you want more.
“You know, we could do this. But I really don’t like you dude.” You raise your eyebrow at him. He nods. “You don’t make yourself all that approachable either, would you really be down? I mean, just… fuck buddies… nothing else?”
“Mr. Lee, you know we both aren’t ones for relationships. But what’s in it for me?” “Oh, you want payment now?” “Well, you knew I wasn’t gonna give you myself for free, did you?” He laughs. “Fair, then how about I give you a raise?” “Mm… Anything else?” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay uhh. A raise and no more staying overtime, you get paid if you leave work early and… free coffee for life.” You ponder a bit. “Alright, I accept.” “Oh, not so quick, you need some rules to you too. For this to work you have to come help me anytime I need you.” “Libido that high, huh?” He shushes you and you giggle.
“Well okay, but if you’re really frustrated right now, shall we start today?” He looks back at you, visibly cringing from you being so direct with him, but he doesn’t mind. “I mean if you’re down.” “I am, but do you have any condoms?” That’s when you see him reaching for his wallet, taking out about 3 condoms out. Your eyes widen a bit, smacking your lips at his professionalism. “Oh, wow you’re ready.” “3 is a bit much…” “Who knows, i’ll end up using all of them and then end up going raw cause we are left with none.” “Yeah, don’t know about that.” “Im messing with you, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, letting you get on top of his lap. Your lips finally make contact with his, getting to taste him in your mouth, the feeling lingering down to your stomach.
As you begin making out, your hand travels down to his forming bulge, squeezing and massaging it to the best of your abilities. As you’re doing that, he squeezes your ass with his palm, making you flinch from the sudden pressure. You playfully slap his face, pulling away from the kiss a bit. “You’re such a dick.” “I know, wanna feel mine already?” You give him one last kiss before pushing his head back on the chair to kiss his neck, insisting on his prominent adam’s apple. You suck on his sensitive skin, forming hickeys along his whole neck. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re not bad at this.” “I know, but you are.” “Oh shut up, I barely got to do anything.” You sigh, pulling away from his neck. “Let me ride you, m’kay?” “Do whatever you want to me.” He smiles coyly. “Could I kill you?” You pout your lips. “Not until you get your raise.” “Oh, fuck off.”
You start with unbuttoning his pants, not even taking them off before placing your hand on his boxers. You press his dick a bit, his groan appearing right after. “Mhm, that’s what I love hearing.” You nod to yourself. “Right from my mouth?” He teases too. “Oh, you know what I mean, I might need to stuff yours, so you shut up more often.” “Could you stuff it with your pussy?” That keeps you quiet for a bit, his response making you clench around nothing. “… I might, if tape doesn’t work.”
You don’t even take his pants off when you pull his boxers down with his half-hard dick springing out. You grab the base, stroking it a bit to get it as erect as you can. “You’re so big.” You point out. He just smirks, looking at you up and down. You leave his dick alone for a bit just to take your panties off, as you were already wearing a skirt, the embarrassing wet stains on them being visible for Heeseung to see as well. “You got this wet already? And you’re the one saying i’m horny.” “Shut it.” You throw your panties to the other side of the room, finally ripping one condom out the packaging, putting it well onto his dick. After you give him a few more strokes you position yourself on his dick, slowly lowering yourself on his length. It takes you a few good seconds to adjust, then you slowly move your hips back and forth on him. He already throws his head back, the feeling being so familiar yet so distant. Your walls clench around him every time you move on him, the feeling already getting unbearable. You change your routine a bit, starting to bounce instead of grinding, the sound of your thighs touching echoing through the room. You try leaving out as little moans as you can, but it’s still impossible for you, as it feels so good. You leave out small desperate noises as you bounce on him. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” He smiles up at you. You glare again. “Fuck you.” While speeding up. “This.. doesn’t mean anything. I’m just.. helping.. you get rid of a boner.” You say out of breath. “And it’s working, keep going.”
You ride him as well as you can, his swollen tip getting so deep inside you it’s hitting your sweet g-spot. He needed to fuck with someone desperately, the fact that it was you was pure coincidence. Your mouth parts, leaving sounds that only his ears can hear. “Holy shit… I might cum soon… please” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders with your nails bedded into his skin. He looks up at you, his hand resting against your ass, giving it a few squeezes here and there. “You’re gonna cum for me? Hm? Come on, cum all over me” He whisper shouts, helping you bounce on him faster and faster.
The knot in your stomach quickly snaps, your orgasm washing down over you with a few loud moans. You cum all over his dick, with each thrust forming a white ring at the base of it. “Your pussy so good, Y/n… I can’t take it any…more” he grunts, throwing his head back more with each bounce of yours. “Cum already, come on you’re... doing so well” you encourage him, and he immediately obeys, his semen spilling into his condom, making it fully white by the time you pull away from his lap. He pants and moans before you finally take the condom off his dick, the cum spilling back onto it. You stroke him a few more times, getting your hand messy but that finally makes him lay on the chair more relaxed, his high calming down.
“Damn it you’re good.” He says while smiling, his head thrown backwards. “I know, that’s why I agreed to help you.” You slightly grab onto his neck, giving it a few playful kisses. “Now should I send you back to your work? You’re finished here.” He teases. “Oh right, right. Maybe I should focus on my actual work, rather than this work.” You say, grabbing onto his dick one last time, leaving it alone after wrapping your hand around it.
He grabs your wrist, flicking it away now. He looks up at you while raising his eyebrow. “Get the fuck out of here.” You scoff at him, cleaning yourself up a bit and fixing your clothes back on before turning around to leave. “Suck my pussy.” You say annoyed while heading to the door.
As you open the door you hear a “Might do that too” and that’s when you get out the door, leaving him a middle finger before closing the door behind you.
Heeseung finishes the project for both of you, and you end up winning it together. Of course, he kept reproaching you that you won because of him, and you got into a heated argument that you just stopped talking for weeks. So first he says he’ll do it for you but when you do… he argues that he did all the work?
What an asshole.
After another day of no contact at all, you get passed a flyer at work, so you quickly read it.
“It gives us immense pleasure to invite you to a special gathering in honor of Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n to celebrate their remarkable achievement of winning the collaboration project contest first place.
Date: [7th of December]
Time: [7 PM to 12 AM]
Venue: HELIX ENTERTAINMENT VENUE & BAR
Dress Code: [Semi-Formal]
We look forward to celebrating this special moment with you.
Warm regards,
HELIX ENTERTAINMENT”
After reading, you immediately put the flyer down on your desk, covering your face with your hands. “I don’t wanna see that man ever again.” You avoided him for a few weeks, how could you meet again now? You sigh to yourself, thinking that it’s just one day, it’ll be over, and you can continue ignoring him again.
On the day of the event, you buy yourself a nice and luxurious royal blue dress, it’s long and it hugs your body so well. It has a pretty big cleavage, but you know you looked attractive in it anyway. You get ready, grab your hand purse, and get to the venue. As you enter the big ballroom you notice Heeseung right away, talking to some higher ups while having one hand in his pocket, and the other in the air, moving it around while talking. He’s wearing a tight black suit on, with a deep v-neck that perfectly shows his collarbone. His hair a dark velvet and slightly gelled. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. He always wore that dark aura to him, and that pissed you off. It’s like he was pulling you in despite you trying to pull away. Even if you said you hated him, your palms got sweaty when you saw him, your heartbeat got faster and you eyes slightly widened whenever you saw him. It wasn’t because he was your boss, it wasn’t because he could fire you at any moment… there was something else. And he knew it.
You breathe in one last time before going up to them. As soon as Heeseung sees you he can’t stop looking at you. How perfect you look, you elegant you came here yet so sexy. The way your boobs sat in your dress and how they looked at Heeseung first, that’s what he claims anyway. You don’t say anything to each other, you barely dare to make eye contact. But at one point the others leave your conversation, saluting both of you for now... And when you expect it least, he pulls you aside.
“Are you trying to tempt me with those tits?” He whispers. “Excuse me?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. “I mean, look at you. Who did you come here for? Where are you going after this? Is there anyone else with you?” He launches this set of questions so weirdly, making you cross your arms which makes your boobs squeeze even tighter against each other.
“I’m here alone, Heeseung. I just liked this dress and came here with it. What’s your problem, even if I dressed up for someone?” You look angrily at him. “Because nobody can see… all of this… except for me. You’re my fuck buddy remember?”
“So? I thought friends with benefits meant something else for you. Don’t care what you think about my outfits. Just stop staring weirdo.” You rest your arms alongside your body, before turning to leave. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. “Look, I don’t want to be constantly ignoring you. Can we be just like we were before?” your lips part. “You mean…. hating each other?” he sighs. “You know what I mean. Hating each other but helping each other with things.” You click your tongue. “Oh yeah, speaking of that… you never gave me my raise… or my coffee.”
“What? you can take as much coffee as you want, and I want you to help me with something before I give you the extra money.”
“And what’s that? amaze me.”
“Could you act that you’re my fiancé for tonight?”
You freeze. “Huh?”
“I don’t want you around me, at all. But It’s so annoying when people keep asking why i’m not married at my age.”
“Did you tell them that you’re a bastard? and that’s why you’re single?” you look at him pissed.
“Oh fuck off, just tell me if you want to help me or not.” you contemplate. “Maybe. If I finally get my raise, and some good sex out of you.”
“It’s on then. Let’s go meet some people here, they’re old and rich perverts but they give hella good sponsors. You might wanna cover up. I don’t want them looking at you.” he grabs your waist. “What a coincidence, that sounds like a perfect description of you in a few years.” you roll your eyes, walking with him while struggling to put on your jacket.
“Hello, Mr. Lee, and who is this beautiful lady?” they start right off the bat looking at your body and all, despite covering yourself as well as you can. You feel so uncomfortable with them but Heeseung makes sure to cover you with his body instead. “This is Y/n, my dearest fiancé. She’s a bit shy, so please talk to me instead.” You throw a slight smile while looking at him, his gesture making you really happy.
After you were done with these men, you leave to a more reserved area. “I can’t believe i’m saying this but… thanks for having my back earlier.” “Don’t fret, I saw how uncomfortable you were. Hate you or not, I can’t see you with that expression on your stupid face.”
You take your jacket off while nodding your head. “Wow, what a compliment from you mr. Lee. I acted enough; now can I stop being your dog following you everywhere?”
“Of course, you can leave too if you’re busy.”
“Hey, what about my payment? remember?”
“You want your money now? What do you wanna buy? I’ll give you my card.” He says, pulling out his card to hand it to you. “My pin is 1510. Use however much you want.”
That just stunned you. “W-What no I don’t need to buy anything. Keep your card…” you push it back to him. “I meant… you know.”
“The good sex part?” he says softly.
“Yeah. That.” you say a bit embarrassed now. “Stop making it so awkward, you’re being too quiet for your own good.” you continue.
“Why do you think that? Is my mouth too big to keep quiet?” he smiles. “Obviously, you never seem to shut up but right now you’re eerily quiet.” “I’m just thinking whether I should just eat you out like you deserve or fuck you too on top of that.” His response already gets you hot and bothered, not caring about the people who might be there or might pass you two. You get even closer to him, sliding your hand down his v-neck to touch his pecs and collarbone. “What’s stopping you from doing both? Please Heeseung. It’s my turn to be needy is it not?”
“Of course, it can be your turn whenever. Surprised you’re craving my pleasure when you can’t stand me.” “You’re still fucking hot with this suit on, personality or not.” He smiles, pulling you into a heated kiss, the butterflies rummaging through your stomach. You grab onto his hair, pushing him a little while making out. You pull away after a bit, finally unbuttoning his shirt. You touch him all over his body, barely being able to stop.
“Did you always look this good?” you say, moving your hands on his abdomen. “Were you always this desperate for me?” he smiles, letting you do whatever you want, until he begins undressing you too, sliding that dress off you in a hurry. He slips your bra off taking one tit into his mouth while kneading the other. You let out desperate sounds, wishing he would just eat you out already. His breath hot against your nipple makes your whole body shiver, inevitably making you whine. “Heeseung just suck on my pussy like that please stop teasing me damn it.”
He laughs against your skin, giving your boob one last kiss before pulling away. “Okay, okay, sit down on this couch.” You do, and he gets on his knees to slide your panties off. He makes you spread your legs for him, keeping them apart with his hands. He starts off with small kisses around your core, taking his time enjoying his meal afterall. “This is the second time you’re dripping wet for me, is it a pattern now?” you grab onto his hair to keep him there. “Shut up and just help me get through this.” He listens, starting to eat you out to the best of his ability. Hollowing his cheeks, shaking his head to suck on your folds. He puckers up his lips to kiss you all over, giving it a few sweet licks all over the slit. Once he reaches your clit, he glues his mouth on it, sucking on it leaving the nastiest sounds known to man. While he’s focusing on your clit, he sneaks his fingers to your wet hole, sliding one finger in at first, pounding it into you at a steady rate. You cannot stop moaning loudly, the pleasure being too much for you. He inserts another finger in, curling them inside you, reaching your g-spot easily.
“Oh, right there, Hee. Don’t you dare stop or you’re so dead— oh my fucking god that’s so good.” His hand speeds up, he pulls his mouth away to flick his tongue on your bud faster and faster; matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Fuck!” you cry out. “Heeseung i’m gonna… cum please … keep going.” You lose your mind. He speeds up even more, destroying your pussy with his fingers, actually giving you hope that he’s gonna let you finish. Once you get as close as you’ve ever been, he pulls out and away completely, making your body shake. You groan suddenly opening your eyes in disbelief. “What the fuck..?” you say angrily. “You thought I was just gonna let you cum like that from something so simple?” You glare. “You’re so fucking annoying, I had such a good orgasm forming.”
He caresses your cheek. “Stop pouting, let me make you cum forreal now, okay?” you still look mad, but you grab onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one second; his boner is quite visible already. You pull his dick out, stroking it while he gets a condom out his wallet again (Somehow he’s always ready). You keep stroking him, squeezing his tip with your fingers until he leaks precum everywhere. You stop that to pull his boxers down further, letting him put his condom on. He strokes himself a few more times before positioning himself to penetrate you. He slowly pushes his cock in, making slow movements at first, slowly speeding up to fuck you good. “You’re taking it so well, and you feel so good..” You hum, slowly wrapping your legs around him. “That’s amazing… keep going..” you whine, letting him fuck you til you lose your mind.
He slightly moans at every thrust, managing to get deeper and deeper with every thrust. You feel him so deep inside, hitting your g-spot again with his swollen tip. The sudden zap makes you grab onto his biceps with your hands, digging your nails into his skin while moaning louder. “Mhm…. That’s the spot. Don’t stop please…” He finally listens to your pleads, pounding into your sweet spot over and over as you leave red scratches all over his arms. Your hands move up to his upper back, scratching him like a wild cat. He hisses multiple times at the pain, but he lets you react this way just to see all your reactions to him destroying you once again. You tighten around him as you’re about to cum.
“Hee...please let me cum... plea—oh that feels so good please…” you say as you start crying, small tears running down your cheeks shutting your eyes forcefully. “Who’s crying on my cock now? You love getting fucked like this don’t you slut?” he says while speeding up even more, making you squirt on him on the spot. His words buzz in your ear over and over while you lose your mind completely. Your legs shake on his lower back, getting his dick wet with your squirt. “You’re so messy when you cum.” He groans, getting close to his release too. “Oh fuck you… you know you like it… cum already…. come on.” A few more thrusts in and he pulls out to take his condom off his dick. He gives himself a few more strokes before releasing strings of cum all over your stomach. He holds onto your thigh with his other hand while continuing to stroke himself. You look down to your stomach just to see, biting your lip at the scenery. “That’s a new one… you look damn hot doing it.” He slightly smiles at you. “Figured we’d both get messy.” You both quickly clean up the best you can, trying not to get caught by anyone despite how loud you both were the entire time.
“Is this the good sex you were talking about?” he says in a sly manner. “Obviously, if that even means something to you. If there’s one good thing about you it might just be that dick.” You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my, should I feel honored?” he says sarcastically.
You both get out of there, having no intention of staying after what both just did. He gives you the rest of the evening off and gives you your very awaited raise. He was generous with his numbers, that good time really helped. might despise you, or that’s what you think, but he took that raise seriously and you couldn’t stop smiling at your bank balance.
A few days later, you get a text at work from none other than Heeseung. You never gave him your number, so it was a surprise.
“hey y/n”
“Who is this?”
“the guy you fucked 2 days ago”
“ugh what do u want”
“i’m your boss, don’t text me that way”
“whatever, why are u texting me and where did u get my number”
“yena, i just wanted to give you some extra work today”
[1 attachment]
The photo he sent shows his lower body sitting on a chair with his legs slightly manspreading, a thick bulge layering on his dark grey pants while his left hand is gripping the said bulge. Multiple veins are seen branching down from his hand to his arm.
The moment you saw the picture your eyes scattered throughout the pixels in your phone without being able to stop. The photo he took was so damn attractive to you for no specific reason but the way his hand looked, the way you just knew that bulge in his pants was throbbing, begging to get out the tight bottom wear. Still, you decided to be a little cold to him as you always were.
“oh why should i help u? i already got my raise”
“do u want this to be your only one?”
You leave him on seen for a minute or two.
“where r u”
“in my office, tell my bodyguard i called you in here”
“🖕”
You get up, fixing your makeup a little before leaving your office to get to his. After you close the door behind you, you both have a moment of intense eye contact, just to break it off by looking down. “You got here fast. Missed me that much?” you smack your lips. “It’s not like you threatened me or anything.” He laughs softly. “You know you missed me already. Did you touch yourself to the picture I sent, too?” He slowly walks towards you.
“What? No. You’re not all that Heeseung. Your mouth moves too much though.”
“Oh yeah? Then let's see what yours can do.”
He grabs your chin, pulling it up so you can only look into his eyes. There are a few seconds of silence where your heart skips a beat… then in his lowest tone you hear him say...
“Get on your knees.”
He releases the grasp on your chin, letting you lower yourself, finally making eye contact with his bulge. “Aren’t we gonna get caught here?” He shakes his head. “No one can enter without my permission. No one can leave either, like you here.” He smiles. You squeeze your legs together at his words while sliding his pants and boxers off in one move. His hardened cock springs out, bouncing off his navel. You start with small pecks to his red tip, slowly moving down to his entire length. He looks down at you, admiring your sweet moves to bring him pleasure. “You’re adorable like this, did you know?” he chuckles. “Eat a dick.” He slaps your cheek. “Too bad you’re eating mine right now.” You glare up at him before taking his tip in your mouth, stroking him with your hand. You have your other hand resting on his right knee, as you bop your head back and forth little by little. He smiles at you, grabbing your hair into a ponytail just to keep your head in place and to be able to fuck your mouth a bit.
You unwrap your hand from around him cock, letting him completely take control, going at his desired pace. He moans at the feeling, throwing his head back for a second. “Fuck yeah... I see this mouth is better at doing things other than complaining all the time.” His thrusts are making you slightly choke on his dick, getting harder and harder to breathe. You grab onto his thighs, trying to at least make him slow down, but to no avail. It feels too good for him to stop now, your mouth wrapped so tight around his dick; sending him waves of bliss with each thrust. After a good while he pulls away, letting you breathe again. “I fucking hate you.” You say, looking up at him. “Don’t talk to your superior that way, brat.” He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip onto your lips multiple times.
You take him in your mouth again, bopping your head up and down faster than before. You try using your tongue against as well, caressing the sensitive spot between his tip and length with the tip of your tongue.
“That feels so good. Don’t pull away.” He whispers. You leave little hums to confirm that you won’t, letting him get closer to his release with those emitted vibrations. After a few more sloppy bops, he moans like hell, grabbing onto the back of your head to push you deeper onto him. “Y/n i’m— gonna cum… hold on…” he moans out, his eyes closed shut. You keep going, wanting him to cum right in your mouth. “Mmm…hmm.” Is all you can let out, before he cums deep in your throat, automatically swallowing all of it. He leaves out a small groan, pulling out your mouth after he’s done. A string of saliva links his tip and your tongue as he pulls away further.
“Good girl. You swallowed all of it.” You give him a little smile, standing up while wiping your mouth. “Might’ve been the best i’ve ever had, come here.” He says, grabbing your waist with his arms. He leans in to give you a genuine kiss, not a lustful one, definitely not. He keeps you in that deep kiss for a while, pulling away only to pull you in again. “Where... is this … coming from?” you chuckle a little, asking between kisses. “I don’t think… I can stand… completely hating… you anymore…” your eyes widen a bit. “Was my mouth that good?” you say jokingly, and he shakes his head. “Not just that, not just sex. You have a crazy charm to you, I don’t know if you can feel it.”
“That’s crazy coming from you Lee Heeseung.”
“I want you in my life Y/n, you can be mad all you want but it doesn’t change things between us.”
“You’ve already been in mine way too long.” You smile.
“Exactly, I want you to be so sick of me, no medicine would be able to treat you.”
“I guess we can make it work… you’re crazy hot, still might need to tape that mouth though.”
“Is that a secret kink?” He laughs.
“Oh, shut up.” You push him slightly. You can’t lie, being his girlfriend now was tempting, no matter how much you tried to hate him, he attracted you more and more without even realising. Every time he was in your presence your subconscious was happy to see him. Your mind played tricks on you, and you hated how much you adored him.
Dating Lee Heeseung, your boss, was one of the best decisions of your life. Turns out he’s sweeter than it seems, he would give his life for you, and you would too. You didn’t need anyone else, only your soulmate and your cat. You ended up moving in together, always cooking dinner together, going on vacations together and just enjoying eachother’s presence. He was such a sweet guy, something you never expected to see from such a man. Yena definitely judged you when she first found out about your new relationship, but quickly came along with the idea. Thing is, Heeseung acted this way with others but he was so sweet with you. He only loved you. His sparkly bambi eyes always stare at you with such admiration when you walk in the room. He can’t stop admiring you all the time.
I guess he wasn’t that bad after all.
———————————————————————
a/n: thank you so much for reading this!! I spent a few days on it and it was definitely experimental. reblogging/liking would be very much appreciated < 3
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lalunanymph · 4 months ago
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ΉΣЯ ΛПD ƬΉΣ ЯIVΣЯ
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༊ on the most fertile moon of the year, rafayel finally claims you as his true bride and the mother of his future heirs
✯ warnings; sorta sequel to her and the sea but can be read as a standalone, rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex in a bathtub, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a nightgown), mentions of mermaid genitalia, petnames (my little conch shell, my bride, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink, handjobs, mentions of food, breathplay, breeding, mentions of previous oviposition, dirty talk, praise and degradation, language, let me know if i missed anything
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
Like how mashed kelp with prawn hearts were the perfect antidote to third degree burns, or a particularly nasty cold could be healed with sea turtle soup made from the bales found at the heart of Point Nemo’s trenches. 
Another secret? 
Male Lemurians—specifically those of the Sea God kinds like Rafayel—had a special mating ritual. 
You had no idea what you were expecting when your boyfriend called you over to his studio on a random Tuesday morning. As you had a day off from Hunter duties, you decided to drop by and visit, seeing no harm in meeting Rafayel after the innocent text he sent you.
Miss your face, Miss Bodyguard. Care to indulge me with your presence? I wanna show you something coolio lol 
You highly doubted the ‘lol’ at the end of his sentence meant anything innocent, but you had learned a long time ago to figuratively and literally go with the flow when it came to your mermaid boyfriend.
You kicked your bike to a stop by his gravel driveway, staring at the pearly domes of his studio slash home. His front door was left open and you let yourself in, trailing your eyes across the soaring, pristine white walls illuminated by the natural light coming in from Whitesand Bay. 
“Raffie?” Your voice echoes along the empty hallways.
His huge French doors were left open, the salty sea breeze tugging right at your clothes and hair, bringing a chill into the otherwise sun-warmed room. 
“In here.” 
His voice floated from the bedroom and your suspicions flared, wondering what he was up to. 
Ever since that night in the middle of the ocean when he claimed you in his Lemurian form, Rafayel was growing bolder with initiating you into the practices of his endangered people; from the unique seafood feasts he prepared for you down to the different books in a foreign language he loaned you, it seemed as if your boyfriend was eager to show you the full extent of his world and culture. 
With an open heart and an even more curious mind, you padded to his bedroom where you found the entire space open and bright, the brilliant sunlight nearly burning your retinas. You had to squint and shade yourself from the sudden glare, spotting Rafayel waving at you from his huge bathtub in the middle of the room. 
“My little conch shell. There you are.” 
You padded over to him, smiling mischievously at the sight of his slick, and bare chest. The cool, crisp bath water lapped at throat, droplets of water clinging onto the tips of his lilac bangs.
“Did you call me over just to watch you splash around?” you tease, sitting on the bench beside the tub, dipping your fingers into the cool water.
Rafayel snorted and grasped your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, the skin of his digits slightly pruned from his time spent inside the water. 
“Hardly. I wanted to ask you something… eh, more like, show you something.”
You heard a tremble of uncertainty in his tone which he tried to mask with his usual boyish bravado. Months of dating the elusive Lemurian artist gave you a deeper understanding of his personality, and you could tell behind the breezy invitation to his home, there was a deeper meaning and reason behind his need to have you here.
As if answering your silent, roaring questions, Rafayel turned his indigo gaze to the bright sky opening before the bedroom’s sunroof, the panels pushed to the sides to let in the afternoon heat. 
“Do you know what day it is today?” Rafayel hummed, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You had to scoot closer to avoid your arm from submerging in the tub, shaking your head with a teasing smile etched on your lips.
“Taco Tuesday?” you joked and he rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding!” you laughed and added breezily, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t forget your birthday or any anniversaries. So, why is today so special?” 
Your boyfriend pointed at the bright sky, and you had to squint to follow the direction of his finger. 
“Do you see the moon there? Looks like a thin piece of cheese?” 
Following his guidance, you noticed the pale circle in the sky; almost see-through like a wisp, close enough to touch the burning sun in the horizon. 
“Uh-huh.”
Rafayel snorted. “Well… today is a very special day for Lemurians because it’s the one time in the entire year when the moon and the sun will collide.” He gauged your reaction, the confusion on your face making him sigh deeply.
“Ugh, humans. Okay, think of it this way—do you know what controls the tides of the sea?” 
A fairly easy question. “The moon,” you retorted, furrowing your brow.
Rafayel nodded sagely, like a professor trying to prove a point. “Okay. And do you know what helps things like plants grow?” 
“The… sun?” You weren’t exactly sure where your lover was going with this, but you played along for his sake.
“Good,” he gets out of the tub and sits on the edge, and you were relieved to find him dressed in a pair of navy blue swimming shorts. Unable to tear your eyes off the water dripping down his muscular thighs, you coughed, feeling your face flush warmly as you mapped the shadows lengthening around the room; a sign of evening arriving.
“What does any of this have to do with the fact that you moved the tub from the living room to your bedroom?” 
Rafayel gently grasped your chin, lifting your face up to meet his sparkling, bright eyes.
“Remember that night when we made love on the cove in Whitesand Bay… when I asked if you were comfortable with me putting my babies in you?” 
You nodded, recalling the night like it was just yesterday. Though a week had passed since your last encounter together with him, you could still smell the sea breeze on your skin, feel the stretch of his mermaid cock almost tearing you apart inside out.
“Well, tonight is what we Lemurians dub the Fertile Moon—the one time of the year where the sun and moon orbit the closest to one another, and their energies are in sync to increase the life force of the ocean and its inhabitants. Do you get what I’m putting down, Miss Bodyguard?”
Your head was spinning, and you’re not sure if you can make out the innuendo behind his fragmented explanations. 
“No… I don’t think so. Can’t you just tell me point blank what it is you want from me?” 
You tried to scowl and sound demanding, but it came off as pouty and petulant instead. 
He grinned, barely able to hide his chuckle when he turned those mirthful, indigo eyes towards you. “What I am saying, my little muse is that tonight is the one night where every Lemurian is encouraged to breed so that… conception and a pregnancy is a guaranteed success.”
The silence after his words rang like the aftermath of a blurted crass remark. 
You blanched, eyes widening when he finally helped you put two and two together.
“Whoa, hold up—tonight is the night?”
Rafayel’s eyes twinkled, and he flickered them momentarily to your relatively flat belly. 
“Remember those eggs I put inside of you? Well, tonight’s their night to shine. I mean, not literally. You’re not going to glow inside out like a pregnant sea monkey. But, if we made love tonight, it’s a 95% success rate of my babies taking...”
He trailed off, letting you absorb this fact. You take in a deep breath, wondering if this day could get any weirder. Though it had been your idea for Rafayel to show you how mermaids bred in the first place, you couldn't help the feeling that you were biting off more than you could chew. 
Absent-mindedly, you touched your stomach, almost as if you were trying to feel the smooth, oval deposits your boyfriend had gifted to you 7 nights ago. But, you could barely detect their outline or their presence, wondering how the biological aspect of everything would work. 
“Hey,” Rafayel touched your cheek, trying to get you to look at him. “Are you alright? Tell me what’s on that pretty mind, lovely.”
“It’s just,” you struggled to speak, and had to take a few, deep breaths to keep calm. “Is this really happening? You really want me to get pregnant with your babies?” 
In response, his violet eyes softened, and Rafayel steps down from the tub, moving towards you and getting to one knee. He grasped your hands, bringing them in his damp ones and squeezed them reassuringly. “You can always say ‘no’, my little muse. I’m not forcing you to carry my eggs if you don’t want to, though I do wish with every fiber of my being that you would. Nothing would make me happier than to know the only woman I’ve ever loved will be the one to carry my heirs and the future of Lemuria inside of her.”
When he said it that way…
The idea of saving an entire civilization appealed to your naturally altruistic nature, and you couldn’t deny the allure of being the one person whom Rafayel trusted to go on this journey with. Besides, your lover would never let anything happen to you—he would be there with you every step of the way to take care of you and the babies, just like he promised before. And you know he will keep his promises till the end of time. 
You nodded. “Alright. The Fertile Moon. Half-Lemurian babies. Let’s do it.” 
Rafayel gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, his voice low and gentle. 
“Are you sure? I mean, the choice to decline or accept is yours. I will be gentle, but tonight is one of the nights where I’m afraid nature vs. politeness will not be in play, my little muse.” There was a flash of warning in his eyes. You swallowed hard. 
“What do you mean by that?” 
Rafayel’s grip on your hands tighten, and he exhaled a sigh. “It means I might get… rougher… and if you can bear it, I will make it the most pleasurable night of your life, sweetheart.”
You paused, considering his words. “Will you hurt me?” 
He shook his head instantly. “Never.”
“Will you bite me? Maim me?” 
Rafayel shot you a look of exasperation, shaking his head. “No and no. Absolutely nothing will pierce you… well, not too much.”
The addendum stopped you short, and you gave him a cursory look. Rafayel ups the innocent act, gazing at you with his big, indigo eyes which tug on your heartstrings. 
Eventually, you’re swayed by the look of pure hope in those wondrous orbs and you sigh. 
“Okay. Fine. I’ll do it.”
Sealing the deal and taking him off guard, you lean forward, kissing him fully on his shapely lips. “Let’s make some half-mermaid babies tonight.” 
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The chill of the night seeped into your bare skin, the skimpy nightgown you wore barely covering your shins and arms. You had to drive back home and change, returning to Rafayel’s home with your heart in your mouth. 
A part of you considered the repercussions of such a deal—the idea of carrying to term a human baby was already daunting, but now you had to factor in the baby being half-Lemurian into the mix.
The doors swung open, as if sensing you and admitting you within the heart of his space. Once drenched in sunshine and heat, Rafayel’s home was now saturated in shades of night, the windows kept open to let in the illumination of the moon’s rays seeping into the white walls and hardstone floors. You followed a trail of roses he left for you, right to the lip of his bedroom door. Heart thudding a mile a minute, you pressed your palms flat on the intricate wood and pushed it open.
Flickering candlelight danced across the walls, shadows growing with your approach towards the bathtub situated in the middle of the room like a crown jewel. Rafayel is nowhere to be seen, but you felt his presence in this space, watching over you—waiting. 
As per his instructions, you sat at the edge of the large tub, big enough to accommodate one human and one undecidedly non-human person. The warmth of the candles gave you enough courage to lift your head and take a steadying breath.
But, that breath stuttered out into a whispery gasp at the feeling of strong arms wrapping around you. Rafayel’s lips found refuge in the crook of your neck, kissing up and down the delicate column of your throat. His palms spanned around your waist, dragging up and down your sides, committing your outline to his memory. 
“My bride,” he muttered huskily. “You’re here.” 
“Mhm hmm,” your voice trembled, and he could feel the fear rocking you apart. “I’m here… Are you ready?”
Rafayel doesn’t comment on the terror he hears in your tone, or how you’re shaking as if an earthquake is tearing you into two. Gently, he pressed a kiss to your temple, running his hands up and down your stomach in gentle, soothing swoops.
“Relax. It’ll be fine. I’m here and I won’t ever let you go, my bride.”
He turned you around, and you were confronted by the sight of his bare chest peeking from past a pale, purple robe, gossamer thin and clinging onto his muscular torso and arms. A smirk plays on his lips when he realized you were gawking at him, your attention a boost to his ego.
“Like what you see, Miss Bodyguard?” 
Before you could reply, he slipped his fingers in between yours, tugging you closer to the bathtub. Rafayel unties his robe, letting it fall to the ground and you take it as your cue to remove your nightgown, as well. 
Though getting naked in front of Rafayel was something you had done many, many times before, this is the first time you felt a spike of fear run up your spine. Your breathing came out in stuttering exhales, and you managed to slip the diaphanous material off your body, revealing your bare skin to his wandering eyes. The heat of his gaze was like a hot brand, and you could feel it tangibly caressing the expanse of your skin, imprinting your curves onto his artistic eye. 
“You look beautiful, my bride.” 
Rafayel gently guided you into the tub, and you shivered when your toes sank in the water, finding it pleasantly warmed. He got in after you, pulling you close to his chest, hooking his chin over your shoulder. The both of you stayed like this for a little while, holding each other close. The briny scent of the ocean floating in from the wide open sunroof above gave this moment a fairylandish feel, making you think you were in the middle of some fantastical dream.
You felt his lips right on your jugular, kissing over your pulse point and shivered.
“Don’t be afraid,” his voice had taken on a deeper quality, rumbling against your chest. “I won’t hurt you. It will feel good, my bride.” 
Your eyes wandered to the sky, watching the moon burn at her brightest. Rafayel, too, took a moment to absorb the spectacular celestial sight shining from his window, his arms tightening around you.
Something about the romantic and sensual atmosphere finally got to you, and you turned around, straddling yourself on his lap. Your naked cunt bumped against his thigh, and you felt him shiver from the close proximity. 
Tangling your fingers in his hair, you hummed, leaning forward, close enough for your lips to touch, but not fully. “Raffie… I’m not afraid. As long as you’re here, I’m not scared.”
That was his cue to give into his primal, oceanic urges. Hungrily, he claimed your lips, those large hands moving to your waist to drag you flush against his body. 
His quicksilver tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring it slowly; his hands roaming across your body, caressing you with a touch full of desire and need.
“Rafayel…” 
He broke the kiss, leaving a string of spit connecting your lower lip to his, hanging tenuously like a heart about to break. 
Your lover darted his tongue out, lapping at your bottom lip, his teeth following suit to dig into the plush flesh. He repositioned you upon his lap, tangling his fingers in your hair to tilt your face to the side so he could slot his mouth closer to yours.
This kiss under the moonlight, sensual and sweet, stole a part of your soul and refused to give it back. 
Perching you on his strong, muscular thigh, Rafayel dipped his head lower, dragging lazy kisses down your jaw, your collarbone, his warm mouth wrapping around your nipples. His tongue teased them, getting them hard. You squirmed in his lap, getting wetter at his every touch. 
“Feels good, my bride?” He hummed, mouth still latched around your hard flesh and you whimpered, nodding.
Rafayel grinned at your responsiveness, hearing your whispery plea of his name passing your lips. 
His mouth was better than good—it was downright sinful and delicious. It felt like every sensation was amplified tonight, your body keyed up to receive his ministrations. 
Please, you whispered into the dim night illuminated only by candles that bounced off the whiteness of his grin. Touch me more.
“As you wish, my bride.” 
Rafayel paid special attention to your nipples, tweaking them, sucking on them, brushing his thumbs over the hard nubs. Your hips began to drag across the muscular plane of his thigh, rutting and twitching as you struggled to relieve the ache in between your legs.
“More,” you’re desperate to get closer, to feel him deeper in your body; needing to satiate the lust his touches ignited deep inside of you. 
Rafayel hummed, a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth as he tasted your desperation, your need to get off. 
“Mhm, I know,” he mumbled in between sloppy kisses raining down your neck, taking his time to taste your skin. “I know, baby. But, we’re going to take it slow tonight, yeah?” 
Rafayel would be the death of you. His duality would never cease to render you speechless; bratty, pouty boyfriend in one breath and then suddenly, a teasing force of nature determined to get under your skin and leave you begging.
Your whine graced his heated ears, and he chuckled.
Rafayel… no… stop teasing me…
Already begging? Your lover raised his lips to the juncture of your neck, biting down softly to bring the blood up, leaving his mark there. That was quick—thought you’d hold up longer than that. 
Your indignant sounds were masked by his mouth moving back to yours, kissing your protests away.
What was it you wanted to say, my little conch shell? He teased, trailing his fingers down your thighs, igniting goosebumps on your arms. I’m a tease? I’m not giving you what you want? 
He adjusted himself in the tub, the water starting to run cool, sloshing over the edges to dampen the surrounding floor. He lifted you higher into his lap, running his warmed, slightly chapped lips down to your sternum, mapping his way down to the part of you which needed him the most.
You know, I’ve never done this with anyone… Rafayel whispered against your flushed skin, nudging you up further until your pelvis bumped his jaw. You’re always the first one I try new things with… his fingertips glide across your thighs, gently nudging them apart.
You make me feel human—make me feel alive. His words are lost in your skin as he muffled them with his kisses, leaving a trail of heat in between your thighs, leading right to your pulsing core. Rafayel can’t help but chuckle at the sight of your little, twitchy clit, waiting for his tongue or mouth to give her some attention. 
His touches are languid, caressing your knees, your shins and thighs. He moved his fingers to where you needed him the most, focusing his touch on your throbbing clit, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the slick bundle of nerves which seemed to pulse his name with every touch.
“Rafayel,” your moans saturated the air, a blessing to his ears.
“Mhm… yes, my little conch shell? Feels good, doesn’t it?” His indigo eyes looked at you with pure hunger like a deadly current threatening to pull you under. 
Yes, your breathy whimpers boosted his ego, drawing a smirk on his handsome face. The heat that he sets off in your body when he placed his mouth right on your inner thigh was nothing compared to the smoldering flame about to engulf you when he sucked a hickey onto your soft flesh. 
“I can smell you—you’re practically drenched,” Rafayel slurred in between nipping kisses to your thighs, determined to leave his mark wherever he went. I just want to… fuck… he trailed off.
“What?” 
Your breathless question made him laugh.
In answer to your winded curiosity, he brought his mouth closer, right to the apex of your thighs and exhaled, warm breath fanning across your folds.
“I just want to eat you whole.” 
Warmth engulfed your cunt the second he murmured those seductive words, and your head was thrown back, your moan rebounding across the room. 
You were so worked up, it was insane how you haven’t exploded yet. The taste of you saturated his tongue, dripping right onto his chin and Rafayel lapped you up like you were the water of life, drinking you down in desperate gulps. 
Those pretty indigo eyes hazed over, his long lashes obscuring his gaze into half-mast as he worked your pussy over with his mouth. Using a slender finger, Rafayel teased past the tight muscles of your entrance, sinking down to his knuckle, curling it forward in a come hither motion as your hips stuttered and bucked.
Rafayel… oh, fuck…
He grinned at the sound of your trembling moans, and stretched your perfect cunt around a second finger, applying pressure to your golden spots, determined to make you see stars. 
Without warning, you felt the girth of his thigh transforming underneath you, growing slicker, harder. Scale-like. The texture of his wrists you were grasping tightly became harder, the skin toughening and lengthening. 
Water sloshed noisily down the rim of the tub, and from the corner of your eye, you caught the flick of an iridescent tail in mid-air.
Rafayel continued to eat you out, oblivious to your wide eyes and hitched breathing, needing to feel you shatter around his fingers. Latching his lips right to your nub, he traced his name right into your sensitive clit, enjoying how your thighs were tensing and trembling, struggling to hold yourself upright. 
One large palm guided you to ride his tongue, grasping your hip and helping you glide yourself back and forth over the flat of his pink muscle. 
Your fingers curled over the edge of the wide tub, one hand tangling in his hair to hold him closer. 
Fuck, so good, your moans goad him on. So good, Rafayel. More, please… more…
He gave it to you, lapping at your swollen folds, feeling your juices stain his mouth, drip down his jaw. 
The needy twitch of your hips and the tremble in your moans spurred him on to double his speed and precision, racing to get you right to the edge. From the depths of the deep tub, you felt something hard stirring against your thigh, the thick, scaly ridge a familiar rasp as it grazed against your soft skin. 
“I’m close,” your quivering moan made his blood thump harder in his veins. “So close…” 
Your orgasm washed over you like a hot tide, nearly making you buckle and lose your footing. Luckily, Rafayel hurried to clasp his larger, merman hands around your waist, holding you upright and slowly easing you down onto his lap. Your quivering moans go straight to his cock, and he was already hard and ready when you sank into his embrace, the tip of his monster girth poking your lower belly.
Without a second thought, you reached for his length, stroking his Lemurian cock with a loose grip, feeling his entire body constrict under your touch. 
Rafayel expelled a soft groan, the back of his head thumping against the smooth marble of the bathtub’s edge. Scaly and with bumps that felt heavenly between your gummy walls, his cock was a wonder of nature that always left you speechless. Hooded indigo eyes appraised you, and his tongue briefly darted out to touch the corner of his mouth.
“You’re becoming more bold and audacious day by day.” 
Drunk from your orgasm, you managed to give him a grin. “What did you say again—the most pleasurable evening I’ve ever had?” 
Arching a brow, Rafayel snorted. “So, jacking me off is your idea of a pleasurable evening?” 
Your lips touched his ear, warm breath fanning across his skin. “What if I said yes?” 
Putty in your hands and susceptible to your every will, Rafayel had no choice but to let you have your way with him. His hips ticked, pushing his cock further up your weak grip, aching to earn more friction.
“I would say you got me there,” his voice lowered into a husky whisper. “You’re a handful, you know that?” 
“But, I’m all yours to handle.” 
His smooth and low chuckle sparked a shiver up your spine, that hazy grin and heavy lidded eyes making your stomach flip.
“Mhm, that you are, sweetheart.” 
The water rippled from the motions of his hips undulating to match your strokes, a pinch appearing on his brow. Despite having a fear of the water, you felt safe in Rafayel’s arms, letting him hold you close as you continue to pleasure him. 
“Do you want to—”
“I think we should—”
He paused, and you giggled at both your eagerness; the simultaneous need. Rafayel’s eyes twinkled with mischief, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 
Without another word, your lover guided you onto his lap, gently pushing your hand away from his cock and gingerly lifting your hips. 
It started out slow first, with the head of his Lemurian cock slowly breaching you, pushing past the trembling muscle of your spasming cunt. Rafayel was conscious of not slamming into you, knowing you needed time to get used to the sensation of his longer length stretching you out. 
The sensation of his bulbous head sinking through your walls, and the feel of every ridge and bump hitting your swollen spots was enough to draw full body shivers from you. 
“Fuck,” Rafayel shivered, his eyes darkening. 
Your breath tumbled out in a shaky exhale.
Palms flat on his chest, you struggled to sink down on him, the water adding more lubrication to help ease you over his impossibly huge cock. The stretch made sweat bead across your brow and you gasped, rocking your hips forward, trying to take all of him in one go. 
You okay? His mouth on your pulse point soothed you somewhat. 
Nodding, you felt the bite of pain, your muscles protesting.
Rafayel took this chance to play with your nipples, tweaking and tugging on them; when that wasn’t enough, he decided to use his tongue and teeth to get them wet and hard, leaving your body aching for more. His thumb trailed to your clit, rubbing on it as he continued to suckle on your tits, giving them both his undivided attention. 
Your pussy twitched around him and he murmured, let go for me, sweetheart.
The effort it took for you to calm yourself down enough to take him is tremendous, and Rafayel felt a burst of love and adoration for how much you were trying to please him. The hunger you showed to be perfectly good for him incited his need to spoil you even more, and he quickens the circles on your clit, trying to loosen you up so he could bottom out.
Once you were slick enough, Rafayel didn't waste anymore time, guiding you down on the last few inches, kissing you full on the mouth to quell your trembling moans.
“Fuck.” Your cries were intoxicating, driving him mad with desire when he finally sank down to the hilt, a bit of drool dripping from your parted lips. 
Rafayel didn’t hesitate to lap at it, dragging his tongue from your jaw to your chin, tasting the salt of your skin. The moon bathed your skin with pale, silky light, and the artist swore if he wasn’t trying to put his babies in you, he would’ve taken this moment to paint you from scratch. 
A tick of your hips. Your walls trembled around him. 
Guttural groans softened by his lips pressed to your neck reverberated against your skin.
Holy shit, his curses sink past your flesh. Shit, shit—you feel like heaven. 
Please, move. Your begging elicited a hoarse chuckle from the Lemurian.
As you wish, my bride.
Slow, tantric strokes. Rafayel’s grip on your hips was firm and solid. He kept a steady pace, fucking up into you, the tips of his tail flicking past the tub's rim, catching your eye with its iridescent brilliance. 
Every stroke of his ridged cock rubbing against your gummy walls felt like a pulsing nirvana. Throbbing, hot, needy. You were completely Rafayel’s—you belonged fully to the Sea God of your dreams.
Mhm, yeah, he continued to fuck into that same spot, coaxing you with You like that? fuck you like that. Mhm yeah. Uh-huh—good girl. 
The tips of his lilac bangs tickled your neck as he sucked more love bites into your neck, hellbent on marking you up as his own. 
Effortlessly, he turned you in his embrace, encouraging you to press your hands on the bathtub’s edge. This newfound position placed more pressure on your G spot, the tip of his cock nudging that same spot over and over again.
Behind you, Rafayel made it a sport to leave as many hickeys as he could on your nape, your shoulders. The rough scales of his fingertips gripped the plush flesh of your ass, squeezing heartily.
You look so good taking me like this. His rough praise drew goosebumps across your entire body. 
You tipped your head back, dizzy with lust, mouth parting wide open. 
In the dimness of the candlelight, Rafayel’s lilac eyes glimmered like amethysts, his hair shining with an ethereal gleam. 
“My love, do you trust me?” His heated question pressed into the back of your neck pricked your awareness. The stretch and the bite of pain which mingled with pleasure fucked with your mind, drawing you right to the edge where nothing in the world existed beyond you being impaled on his cock.
“Mhm,” your replying moan drew a trembling laugh from him. 
I have something which will make it all feel better… but only if you trust me. 
Rafayel tangled your hair in his fingers, and in this instance, you would’ve done anything for him. 
You nodded.
The pleasure he bestowed on your wrecked body, the gentle way he was asking if he could make you feel even more good, did not prepare you for what he did next. 
One second, your head was tilted back against his chest, and the next, you were plunged face first into the tub water. Your eyes opened wide, your entire body tensing with fear. Eyes burning, you opened your mouth to scream when he yanked you back to the surface, sputtering and crying out his name. 
“Shit.” Rafayel’s movements doubled in speed, fucking up into you like he didn’t respect you one bit. You were panting, gripping the edge of the tub with white knuckles.
“Fuck,” was the only word you could manage to blurt out, the tension in your lower belly tightening.
If it was possible, the sensation of his cock splitting you apart felt even more delirious. Dizzyingly so. 
Your eyes crossed, mouth hanging open, the slick pistoning of his cock in and out of your willing pussy making every nerve ending in your body burst into unending flames.
Raffie… fuck… do it again.
You were pleading for him to hurt you, the taboo nature of such devious desires making your blood pump harder. 
There was no need to tell him twice.
Rafayel grasped the base of your head, and your world disappeared into the bottom of the tub, your body bucking wildly, fighting for oxygen as his cock continued to bulldoze into you. 
He brought you up, and you gasped, coughing loudly. 
Fuck, your voice was gravelly from swallowing some water. Fuck, that was so hot. 
You weren’t the only one who thought so. 
Shit, your lover groaned. I’m close, baby. 
Lavishing you with praise for being so good, Rafayel held you close to his chest, your back bowing to take all of him in. 
You’re amazing, love. My bride, my Queen. You’re going to be the best mother. The best mate. I love you. I love you so much. 
The moonlight scattered across the rippling water, reminding you of that time when he had you right on the seabed and you watched the light breaking above the surface. 
Come for me, my love. His grunts touched the sensitive shell of your ear. Come for me and make me feel good—are you going to be good for me?
Yes, yes. You chant. Yes, I will, Raffie. 
Yes, my bride. Fuck—doing so good. Yeah, yeah. Come, come. Fucking make a mess on me. 
You could never deny Rafayel what he wanted. At his command, you spilled all over him, your muscles tightening, threatening to spit him out of your trembling heat. 
So good, so good for me. Coaxing you through your orgasm, he talked you through it, there for every tremble, every quiver and moan. 
Your pleasure washed over him in waves, and he couldn’t hold back the tide, not when going over and spilling inside of you, claiming you as his, is what he has always wanted since the dawn of time. 
Strings of heat splattered inside of you, filling you to the brim till you thought you could taste him in the back of your throat. 
Rafayel continued to pump his hips, desperately trying to make sure not a single drop goes to waste.
When the comedown hits, it slammed into you hard. The exhaustion mingled with the fatigue of the adrenaline ebbing out of your veins. 
You slumped back into his arms, and Rafayel was careful to slowly ease you off his half-hard cock, holding you close in his embrace. The possessiveness that dripped from his fingertips as they stroked through your hair, the heat of his body, warmed you up in the already cool water. 
The chill permeated through you, though you barely felt it, not when Rafayel was by your side.
A soft kiss was placed on your jaw.
“Was it good?” 
You nodded, hazy and dopey from the rush of hormones. “Beyond perfection.”
Rafayel chuckled at the dopey happiness alighting in your eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, nuzzling his face into your damp neck. Now that his primal instincts were cooling off, he could give your wrecked body the attention it deserved. 
The warmth of his skin seeped into yours. Hard scales turned back to soft flesh, his huge tail transforming into a pair of legs tightening around your midsection, determined to hold you fast to his chest. Languishing in the cool water, you glanced up at the moon, noting a pair of wispy clouds drifting past her luminous facade, reminding you of a couple dancing past a huge celestial spotlight.
Rafayel rubbed your belly with one hand, and you didn’t have to ask him what was on his mind to know his raging thoughts.
Placing your hand upon his, you smile at him over your shoulder. The fall of his lilac hair, the softness in his eyes. It made your heart melt.
“Are you nervous?” 
Your question, seemingly innocent, held a multitude of layers which he could unravel easily enough after having known you for close to a millenia. 
“Of the babies? No,” he answered truthfully. “But, of how will things change between us? Yeah, I’m terrified.”
You readjusted yourself on his lap, facing him, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. “Are you afraid I’m gonna leave you once I find out your babies are bulging inside of me?” you tease.
Rafayel’s pout was endearing, and you laughed, pinching his cheek. “Raffie… you’re so silly.”
He huffed, his palms drifting to clasp around your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. “Am I so silly or just worried you might still think I’m a freak?”
Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Ouch. You really underestimate me, my love. You’d think I’d let you do this if I didn’t want it?” 
Knowing full well how independent and firm you could be, his worries abated slightly, a smirk worming onto his shapely and perfect lips. 
“Of course not, Miss Bodyguard. You would never do anything if you didn’t love it.”
Your eyes softened. “Well, there’s your answer.” Under the luminous moonlight, your embrace tightened around him, bridging the distance between 800 years and this moment where you and Rafayel would finally be a family.
“I only do it because I love you.”
— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!
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©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.
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sinnabarmoth · 2 months ago
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The Lads Vs No Nut November
MC: Alright boys, the time is upon us. Who do you think is gonna pass no nut November?
Sylus: Damn it, not this again.
Xavier: No nut November? What is that? We can't eat peanuts for an entire month?
MC: No, Xavier, it means you can't--
Xavier: But I love peanut butter. And does hazelnut coffee count? What are the specifications?
Zayne: This is ridiculous. What is there to gain? What actual person would participate in something like this?
Sylus: Idiots with zero physical appeal I assume.
Rafayel: Sorry MC but I can't risk losing this year. I hope you aren't too disappointed.
Sylus: Case and point.
Rafayel: Hey! Just because I choose to participate doesn't mean anything. If you think about it, I am practicing self control over my baser needs unlike you lot.
Xavier: Wow Rafayel, I didn't realize you liked peanuts that much.
Zayne: Still not what no nut November means.
Sylus: I don't need to practice self control--
MC: Sure you don't.
Sylus: What is that supposed to mean?
Zayne: It means you act like an ill behaved dog any time you are around MC and we all know it.
Rafayel: Maybe the good doctor here can schedule a neutering for you. Then we won't have to worry about prying you off of MC's leg every time we get together.
Sylus: What did you say!
MC: Whoa! Whoa! Break it up! It was just a joke. Please don't take this so seriously.
Sylus: Do you think you all are any better? Rafayel wants to recreate The Bodyguard any time he is in the same room with MC and I’m pretty sure Zayne would change careers to gynecologist just to spend more time between her legs.
MC: Oh for fucks sake…
Zayne: That is wildly inappropriate!
Sylus: So is dating your patient but that hasn’t stopped you.
Xavier: I’m starting to think we aren’t talking about peanuts.
MC: And that’s why you’re my favorite right now, Xavier.
Xavier *looking directly into camera*: I do know what no nut November means, I’m not naive. It just doesn’t matter cause I lost the first day. My…"Halloween plans” with MC ended up stretching well past midnight.
Xavier: But I find it amusing watching the others get worked up. And if they’re squabbling it means I get MC all to myself for the month.
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potteraep · 4 months ago
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Asking for Kinich requests here! ✋ Just Ajaw trying to take all of Fem!reader's attention just to get back at Kinich for locking him away again and Kinich takes reader away like Tarzan or Spiderman and left Ajaw, making him angrye even more (fluff, a bit of crack(idk if it's crack))
CUT IT OUT ⁀➷. KINICH
- this is so silly I love this 😕…
⁀➷- kinick x fem! Reader
⁀➷nothing..just flying ig? Your not dating but you obviously want eachother ( he’s lowk down bad)
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷- kinich grumbled quietly as he watched the scene in front of him.
ajaw was being his usual annoying self pressing and saying stupid things as you nodded with a confused but intruiged look. From here kinich couldn’t hear and a part him wanted to save the embarrassment and not come any closer but lock away Ajaw again.
This all started because of that, locking away the self proclaimed dragon lord. This happened usually but ever since kinich had spend so much time with you, it had gotten much worse.
usually kinich could care less for what ajaw had to say but he found himself embarrassed every time ajaw said something to the girl he’d been trying to impress for a month. And what was worse is ajaw had realized how kinich felt.
kinich pushed off the wall and cursed under his breathe as he walked over to you two trying to hide a blush as you smiled at him and Ajaw snarled with a scoff to top it off
“ well- it’s my servant! Where have you been what if something happened to me! Do your job you stupid-“
“ I’m not your bodyguard Ajaw cut it out.”
Ajaw scoffed annoyingly before he had been quite for a second and gasping dramatically
“ what if something happened to y/n huh! Leaving the poor girl to fend for herself.. well and me. Cmon kinich you do want to impre-“
“ shut it you imbecile, if she had gotten hurt I’d be there and we’re at the canopy nothing is gonna happen stop saying stupid things “
“ cmon kinich.. maybe he’s right yknow? Where is the great guardian when I need him?” You teased raising an eyebrow as ajaw let out a laugh making kinich grumble.
Kinich tried to sound as stern as he could but the sight of you giggling in the corner of his had him trying to hide a blush over all and the fact you were feeding into ajaws behavior was making it worse.
He cursed as ajaw took notice and turned to you as his eyes widended
“ hey y/n kinichs been wondering if you wanted-“
You gasped a bit as kinich swiftly grabbed you. His hold on your waist as he swung down off the canopy while leaving ajaw. he blushed a bit at the closeness but didn’t dare look at you as you had your head in his shoulder gripping onto his neck
when you finally landed kinich let go of your waist but didn’t move letting you decide if you wanted to let go.
he stupidly felt a bit disappointed as your hold on his neck let go the warmth leaving making him shiver a bit
“ what was that for?” You asked confused but smiling with a small blush adorning your cheeks as he tried not to stare
“ sorry about that. he’s just- his voice was making my head hurt”
he said as he grumbled at the fact from on top of the canopy you could hear ajaw yelling and thrashing around turning from green to red making you smile and raise a eyebrow
“ what was he saying?” You teased knowing how he felt but wanting to tease him a bit more
“ he’s a idiot. “
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@- likes and reblogs appreciated hope you liked it :>
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nymphoheretic · 2 months ago
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Synopsis: You were always so curious about Rafayel's tail when he's in his Lumerian form. But what you wasn't expecting was the slit in the front and your curiosity got the best of you and you slip a finger down it…
Warnings: Monsterfucking, Siren!Rafayel with two cocks, sex on the beach, fingering, multiple orgasms, double penetration in one hole, squirting, oral sex (fem!recieiving), handjob, hinting at oviposition (Rafayel says he'll fill reader up with eggs), breeding, overstim unprotected sex, sex under water, mild breath play (lemme know if I missed anything!)
Word Count: 6.2k (fuck, it was supposed to be a drabble/blurb)
Pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader
A/N: This is my first time writing for Love and Deepspace, so I hope I got Rafayel down okay 🥺 I apologize if he's ooc
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You were always curious about Rafayel’s mermaid form. You’ve seen him in his Lumerian God of Sea form many times during fights with wanders. But you’ve never seen his tail and his pretty scales he got during his weak days of the month always intrigued you. So today was going to be the day, you were going to ask him to see his tail during your trip to the beach.
Rafayel stretches his arms above his head, his face lifted to greet the salty air of the beach with a tender smile on his lips. It felt good to be in the presence of the ocean after a long day of fighting wanders with you. This was a well needed treat and being with you was a plus, too. “What made you wanna invite me out today, Miss Bodyguard?” His voice was teasing at best as he sent you a smirk. 
You huff a little before moving over and flicking him on the forehead and crossing your arms over your chest. “Maybe I just wanted to treat you to an outing on the beach.” You lift your chin up at him, peeking open an eye to see him pouting as he holds his forehead tenderly while whining softly. A giggle bubbles up in your chest at his expression. Rafayel was always so cute; his purplish eyes swirling with flecks of blue. 
Biting your lip as you place your hands behind your back as you rock gently on your heels. Your eyes shine with a curious glow. “Hey, Rafayel?” You hum out his name, your hands moving to grab his in between your palms. When he looks down at you, his head tilts in acknowledgement. “I have a request for you.”
“A request from me? Now why would my bodyguard request anything of me. Unless....” His lips curl up into a teasing smile as he turns to face you, his long arms moving quickly to wrap around your waist as his hand moves to grasp your chin gently. “My Cutie is the one asking.” His eyes lighten to a purplish pink as he stares down into your eyes. “Hmmm? Well which is it? Miss Bodyguard or Cutie? Answer quickly the offer is limited.”
You puff your cheeks out at his teasings and reach up and grab his cheeks in your fingers in retaliation. “You cheeky Lumerian!” You yelp out as the two of you turn it into a contest of who could squeeze the other’s cheeks longer. During the brief duel, you had forgotten what you were going to ask him until you slipped on a patch of slippery sand due to the water’s edge and the two of you came crashing down in a splash of ocean water.
Rafayel had quickly pulled you closer to him as he turned so that most of the impact would be on him as you landed against his chest. His infectious laughter fills the air around the two of you. He wraps his strong arms around you and hugs you closer to his chest. “Are you okay? If you wanted to be on top of me, all you had to do was ask, Cutie.” He winks at you as his hands slide up your back to cup your neck. He slowly tilts your face down towards him to lay a kiss to your lips.
“W-wait! Rafayel! My request!” Your hands shoot up and cover his lips as your eyes widen. You shiver when his eyes narrow just the tinies bit, darkening before lightening back up to that playful purplish-pink. You feel something warm and wet swipe across your palm and you snatch    your hand back, glaring down at Rafayel. “Why you?” You grab his cheeks in your hands once more and pinch them until he laughs and apologizes. “Now, let me ask my question.” You grab his wrists in your hands and pin his arms down by his head.
“Oh? This intense?” He teases, his eyes flashing teasingly before he cringes when you huff and dig your nails into his wrists. “Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay. Ask your request, Miss Bodyguard?”
You suddenly grow shy and nervous as you sit up on his lap, your hands still gripping his wrists as you bring them to his lap. “I- Will-” You choke on your words, becoming flustered. You thought about how pretty he was in his Sea God form, those iridescent scales that were so well placed on his face and those intricate markings that swirled over his body. Your thighs hug together as you think about just how handsome Rafayel was.
“Can you show me your tail?” You blurt out your question, heat rising to your face as you close your eyes. You could feel the way Rafayel stiffened under you and you peek your eyes open to see him looking up at you with a serious glow in his eyes; the blue flecks spreading until his eyes were almost completely cerulean. “Rafayel...” You whisper timidly, a bit afraid that you broke some sacred Lumerian rule about asking to see their tails. You let go of his wrists to cup his face gently. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I was just...”
“Curious.” He finishes your sentence for you as his large hand encompasses yours, fingers cool from being pressed into the damp sand and the ocean water licking at them. He pulls one down to his lips, his Lumerian fangs biting down on the fleshy part of your palm causing you to wince slightly and try to pull away from him, but his grip holds firm. Slowly, he rises back to his feet, arm locking around your waist pulling you up with him. 
Rafayel takes a step backwards, slipping his shoes and stripping his clothes off as he walks into the cool water of the sea. “Weren’t you curious about my tail? Then we’ll need to be in the sea for me to show you.” His voice was muffled a bit by your palm as you gasp at the cool water lapping at your ankles before he pulled you in deeper. The water reaches your neck and you gently kick your feet to stay afloat. A misty blue glow surrounds Rafayel as those pretty iridescent scales start to form on his face and neck. The wispy energy curls around his ears, giving them the illusion of being pointed like that of a Siren.
“Rafayel, I-” your words are cut off in a gasp as he begins to glow, his body shifting. His muscles grew and bulged slightly as his form became slightly more muscular and you could feel scales under the palms of your hands, some soft, others sharp enough to cut your skin if you weren't careful. You close your eyes when the glow flashes brightly, bathing you both in a brilliant blue glow. Moving your hand away from his forearm to cover your eyes from the light, the light temporarily blinding you.
You open your eyes as your mouth parts in a gasp as you take in his form. His once short purple hair had grown, the long strands floating on top of the water. His eyes glow a bright and beautiful blue as the whisps of energy darken around his ears. You jolted as you felt something wrap around your legs and when you looked down you could see the watery shadow of a long tail winding around your legs as Rafayel kept you close to his chest. “Oh...you're beautiful.”
His lips curled up into a sly smirk as he raised his hand, each finger tipped with a long blue claw and caressed your cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Excited? Hold on.” With the flowing fins of his tail, he propels the two of you through the water, smiling when your arms and legs wound tighter around him. Rafayel brings you into a hidden cave, lifting you out of the water to sit you down on the shelf ouf the mouth. “Here. I don’t want anyone but you to see me like this, Miss Bodyguard.” He winks at you as he places his hands on the space next to you and lifts his upper body out of the water.
Your eyes widened as a long iridescent blue tail trails after him, hints of pink and purple scales scattered throughout the length; they gave an illusion to his eyes. His long purple hair sticks to his skin from the water and those intricate light blue markings that graced his skin when in his God of Sea form glow faintly in the dim lighting of the cave. You reach out your hand in morbid curiosity and lightly trail the tip of your finger over the soft scales at his hipline were his waist faded into his tail. When he trembles, you pull your hand away, thinking that you hurt him. “I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”
Rafayel’s heart beats fast in his chest, a blush covering the bridge of his nose all to the tips of his ears as he grabs your hand gently in his as he shakes his head. “No. Keep going. You wanted to see me like this.” The gossamer fins at the tip splashed in the water, making it ripple slightly.  He places your hand back at his waist, guiding your fingers over the scales that led down the front of his tail. His fangs threaten to break the skin of his bottom lip as he lets go of your wrist to allow you to freely explore.
You nod your head, trailing the tip of your nail down his waist before pressing down with the pad of your finger. Your eyes never leave Rafayel’s face until you reach a long...slit in the front of his tail. Your curiosity only grows as you circle your finger around the softer scales around it. “R-Rafayel...? What’s this?” Underneath it you feel something wriggling around just below the surface and it makes you withdraw your hand again.
“Oh no, Cutie...” He purrs, grasping your wrist in his hand while the other takes your chin. Rafayel brings your face closer to his as his lips drop upon yours in a sweet, tender kiss. His tongue swipe over your bottom lip before prying your mouth open to explore its depths. As he feeds you his tongue, he guides your hand back to the slit just below his abdomen, easing your finger along the edge before slowly pushing it inside the warm, slick opening.
An audible gasp leaves your lips that Rafayel quickly swallows up as the slit opens under the pressure of your finger and you feel something slip out. You manage to pull away from his lips, eyes darting down to see not one, but two wriggling fleshy tentacle-like appendages slipping out of the vent. “Wh-what is...Rafayel...” Heat bloomed to your cheeks as you came to realize what the slit was for. It was meant to hide away his cocks. You were forced to look back up at Rafayel when his hand squeezed your jaw in a firm grip, turning your face back up to his.
“Go on. Touch them. Isn’t this why you were so curious about seeing my tail, Miss Bodyguard?”
His voice was a teasing mockery of his once gentle tones, his Sea God persona taking over as he guides your hands back to the pale pink appendages. The instant your small hand wraps around the flared base of one of his cocks, his head drops forward as an appreciative moan rumbles in his chest. When the sound reaches your ears, you grow a little more confident as you stroke your hand up from the wide base to the narrow tip, gathering the slick that coated them on your palm to help you give a few more pumps. The sticky sounds echoed off in the cave as Rafayel lifted his hips in effort to thrust into your soft hand more. You gasp when the other cock rubs against your other hand as if begging for attention too.
“Oh? Didn’t you know I can control them in this form, unlike my human form.” He brushes the left one against your hand once more, chuckling at the wide-eyed expression on your face.”Go on. Touch it for me. Make me feel good and I’ll return the favor.” Rafayel’s eyes were glowing blue as he pressed his hand against your chest and guided you down onto your back. His hand slides back down over your belly, claws gently raking over your skin as he brings your thigh upward and pushes it towards your abdomen. “Relax for me, Cutie.You do want this, right?”
Breathing in through your nose, you look up at Rafayel, admiring just how pretty he was above you as a curtain of his long hair falls over his shoulder to blanket you in its softness. You nod your head as you tighten your grip on his cock, moving to wrap your other hand around the second one. You stroke your palms up and down then slowly at first picking up speed as they begin to grow harder in your hands and Rafayel’s soft desperate moan echo off the walls of the cave.
Rafayel’s eyes slide close as he fights off the urge to rip your undergarments away and shove both of his cocks into your warm little cunt. But he had to prepare you first. His fingers slide down your thigh, long claws gently scraping over your skin until he reaches the pretty white lace of your panties, a bit sadden that the water from the ocean had washed away any evidence of your arousal, but his sensitive nose could still smell you. The tip of his claw draws down the slit of cunt, making your hands stutter in their motions. “Don’t stop.” He slips his finger under that thin strip of fabric, his claw catching it and slicing cleanly through it.
His thumb easily finds that hidden pearl nestled between your soft lips and strokes it gently, feeling your body jolt underneath him. Rafayel knew just how to pluck the strings to your body to get you singing for him rather quickly as he retracts the claws of one hand so that he wouldn’t hurt you as he pressed his ring and middle fingers at your clenching hole. His hips buck up into your soft palm as you tighten your grip back around the thick flared base of his cocks, your soft moans edging him on.
Rafael pushes his fingers inside, relishing in the feeling of your slick popping and bubbling around the longest digits. He lets out a low curse as a pressure builds up in his cocks as they stiffen more in your grip as your strokes become more confident, the sticky sounds of your palms gliding up and down them ringing out in the cave. He was not about to be beaten. Rafayel curls his fingers upward, searching for the rough, spongy patch of flesh and hooks onto it while thrusting and twisting. 
Your back arches, hands opening and closing around his cocks as a shiver rolls down your spine. Hips lift off the sandy ground, your greedy walls trying to suck his fingers in deeper as you toss your head back deeper into the sand as your lips part in another keen of his name. You slide your hands back down his cocks, squeezing at the flared base and making Rafayel’s body go still as he fights off the urge to cum. 
“Enough.” He whines, pulling your hands away as they slip back inside the vent as his eyes glow blue with need and want. Rafayel slides his body back into the water while using his free hand to push your other leg up to your chest. His face nuzzles your thigh, strands of his bangs sticking to the damp flesh. “You smell so good. Better than fresh salt sea breeze on a beautiful morning. Let me have a taste, my Cutie. Shall I up the ante now?”
Before you could say anything, Rafayel’s long, thick tongue lolls out of his mouth, the pointed tip circling your clit. He looks up at you with lustful eyes as warm breath fans out over your glistening cunt and saliva pools on his tongue. He parted your pretty lower lips with his thumbs and watched as the stings of arousal spread with them. "Such a pretty pussy and it's all mine."  With those words, he dives in, sucking gently on your labia before tonguing your hole. The sounds of your moan were beautiful, sounding better than the cries from the angels of heaven.
His tongue slips into your clenching hole as his fingers slip out to ease back the hood of your clit, revealing the pretty nerve to the elements. His thumb brushes over it as he delves his tongue in deeper, licking and curling it through your slick folds. He maps out every little gasp and moan you make, taking note of every little thing he does that makes your body shake and tremble for him. He was thirsty for a drink of the sweetest elixir you had to offer him and he'd stop at nothing until you were squirting it down on his tongue.
“Haaa.” He breathes as he lifts his head, glowing eyes finding your face and admiring the blissed out look on it.
Rafayel leans back down and licks a long stripe through your slit, gathering as much of your essence as he could on the flat of his tongue. “So delicious.” He moans against your pussy as he pulls at your hips to make you cup your thighs around his head as he ate you like a starving man devouring his last meal. Two of his slim fingers press into your entrance, scissoring them to find the soft spongy spot deep inside you as he tongue slips out to lap at your sensitive little clit.
“Fuck, Rafayel!” You scream out, your fingers digging into the soft sand under you as you buck your hips.
Rafayel didn’t stop. The need to feel you cumming and drenching his face in your cum sparking a fire in his chest. His licks become more desperate as his lips close over your pulsing clit and sucks harshly. He hums in response to each broken sob you let out as you desperately try to keep still despite the overstimulation of your cunt.
There was a tightening in your belly as your clit throbs. Even though you couldn’t keep up with his pace,  you rolled your hips over his mouth. That hot coil winding tighter and tighter as Rafayel's relentless tongue and fingers dig out your orgasm. “M’g’nna cum, baby. Rafayel!”
The speed of his fingers and tongue, fucking into you like his cocks would and increases at your warning as obscene squelching noises mixed with your saccharine moans filled the tiny space of the cave and his greedy ears. He wants —no, he needs you to wet his face and let him drink up everything you had to offer. “Give it to me, Cutie, I need it.” Rafayel draws out the letters for his name on your clit as he vibrates his tongue as he switches them against, thrusting his fingers back into your hole with a loud squelch.
Your mouth falls open as you give one last jolt. Your walls clench and flutter, spasming around his thrusting fingers. “Oh my fucking god...” Pleasure washes over you as your essence leaves your body to pool in his awaiting mouth. “Rafayel...” you moan softly as your chest heaves, your body giving out and your head rests back on the sand.
His body gives a violent shudder at the sound of his name falling from your lips as he catches every last drop of your release on his greedy tongue. Rafayel laps at your heat, licking and drinking everything you have to offer. Subtle, but feral growls vibrate in his chest as his eyes roll back as the taste of your orgasm settles on his taste buds. “One more, Miss Bodyguard. I know you got another one in there for me.”
You whine as you try to un-straddle his head, but he locks his arms around your legs.  Rafayel then pushes his hands against the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest and melting between your thighs as his mouth latches back onto your slick cunt. Each overstimulated whine you give only edges him on even more.
Tears begin to burn at your eyes as the pain of overstim settles on your already throbbing clit. You push at Rafayel's head trying to wiggle away when he pulls away and slaps your pussy with the flat of his fingers. “Rafayel!” You scream out his name when his fingers press firmly against your sore little clit one more time.
“Don’t run from me again. I’ve waited so long to have you with me again. You owe me this, Cutie..” Rafayel growls before pulling on the thin fabric of your already ruined panties, snapping it off your body as he returns to his feast. Your body was shaking by now, quivering with the approach of your orgasm. His tongue slides over your clit once last time before a stream of hot clear liquid pours down on his mouth, which he eagerly drinks up. “There it is. Squirt for me right on my tongue, baby."
Your thighs were trembling as your clit twitches from the over stimulation, “Fuck...” Your body feels weightless as you squirt, your hot juices spraying out of you in an almost violent stream, what he didn’t catch soaks down into the sand. Your chest heaves as you feel his tongue gently swipe your folds, cleaning you up from the sticky mess he made you make.
Rafayel watches you with hungry eyes, all fucked out and drooling — a pathetic writhing mess under him and he hasn’t even put them in yet. He loved seeing how your eyes roll back until they were damn near white, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as your body trembles from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His hand rubs your cunt gently as you’re slow to come back down for your high. Rafayel knows that he should feel bad for overstimming you, but he doesn’t. He always gets what he wants after all.
“Are you okay?” He questions, placing his hands on either side of your limp body to pull himself back out of the water, his tail pressing against your core, soft scales slipping over you puffy wet lips, When you jolt, trembling under him, he smiles softly before leaning down to kiss your lips, his long tongue prying your mouth open so that you could taste yourself as his fingers move to grip the material of your shirt. Rafayel quickly pops open the buttons of your blouse, deft fingers find your nipples and twisting them.. He feels his slit open once more as his cocks wriggle out, crawling up the length of your leg.
The tips find your clit and circle the sensitive nub until you were trembling and pushing at his waist to get him to stop. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle it anymore?”
You cover your face with your hands, heat burning low in your belly as your squirm underneath him. “Rafayel, stop teasing me! You’re such a brat!” You bemoaned, both loving and hating it when he teases you with what you want. You knew that he wouldn’t give you what you want unless you told him directly or tease him back until his patience finally wore thin. But as boneless as your body felt from squirting so hard, you had no desire to tease him back. 
“Pul-please Rafayel...I need you.” You peek through your fingers at him as you whine out softly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.
Unable to resist you any longer, Rafayel places his heavy tail between your thighs, forcing them apart and begins to slowly push his cocks inside you and has to pause for a second as his mind grows fuzzy from the feeling of your welcoming pussy surrounding his cocks, both sucking him in deeper and trying to push him out. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, nails clawing at his skin. The pointed tips just slipped inside, but that was nowhere near enough for him. Your sweet little cunt felt too good.
“Fuck...” You whisper as he slides in deeper, stretching your walls out to accommodate his girth and length of twin cocks that weren’t meant for humans, his thumb ghosts over your clit, trying to help you relax more so that he could slide in even easier and causing you to shudder. Your back arches off the sandy floor as you draw in a quick intake of breath, eyes rolling back and letting out a breathy moan of his name.
You couldn’t help yourself. Even if you had just cum twice, you were greedy for more. Your mind was too far gone, lost in the painful pleasure. “Oh god...” you moan out, nails digging further into his biceps as he continues to push in even deeper. Your hips move of their own accord, trying to pull him even closer. “More....” you whisper, staring up into his glowing blue eyes as one hand comes to cup his face in your palm. You want — need more; you need to feel him moving thrusting deep inside you.
That was all Rafayel needed to hear. That breathy plea for him to continue. Within your slick walls, they twist together, the girth doubling as they thrust even deeper inside you, making you dig your nails into his forearms and leaving red crescents in his skin as he snaps his hips into yours.  His hands come to cup your cheeks as he laid out on top of your body, his cocks never stopping their thrusting into your perfectly tight little snatch. Thumbs come up to wipe at the tears that were prinkling at your lash line.
“You’re okay, Cutie. You can take it. Just listen to her.” He pauses for a moment, letting the lewd squelching of your pussy echo off the walls of the cave as he fucks deeper into you. “She’s taking me so well, Miss Bodyguard. Isn’t this what you wanted after all?” Rafayel’s fingers pinch and tug at your nipples, as he picks up the speed of his strokes. The pointed tips kiss your cervix with each deep penetration, making you cry out louder and squeeze down on his dicks, the thick flared base stretching you to your utmost limits. "That's it, baby. Clench down for me. Make my cocks nice and wet, yeah?" The sounds of your moans and whines mixed in the wet sounds of his cocks entering your gushing heat were like music to Rafayel’s ears. And it made him greedy for more. 
You could only stare up at Rafayel as he fucks into your sloppy pussy, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. The burning hot coil in your belly intensified as your moans became even louder, forcing Rafayel to cover your mouth with his lips, swallowing and muffling your screams with his tongue.
Breaking away from his lips, you plead with him. “W’nna cum! Please, baby. Make me cum.” Your voice was a high pitch keen as Rafayel thrusts in and out of your aching pussy, giving fast deep strokes. You could feel that thread pulling tighter and tighter but each time it was going to snap, Rafayel would slow down, grinning down at you teasingly as he edges you. “Rafayel, please, lemme cum on your cock, baby. Let me make it so wet f’you.”
“Yeah?” Rafayel challenged in that flirtatious teasing tone of his. “You wanna cum on my cocks, pretty girl?” His fingers move down to grip your chin, tilting your face up to his as he pulls you in for another sweet. Wet and sloppy, full of tongue and desire. His cocks pump in tandem, one in and the other pulling out. Fucking you slowly as your pussy stretches to accommodate them; your fingers coming up to curl into his long purple hair as your legs hang open weakly. “Go on and cum for me. Wet up my cocks like a good girl.” His thumb finds your clit once more, circling the slick nub in quick rubs.
Your pussy clenches tightly as your walls begin to spasm. Your clit twitches as your thighs tremble. “Oh fuck, m’g’nna...g’nna. Cumming!!” Your release leaves you in a gush of creamy liquid that creates a thick ring around Rafayel’s dicks, streaking down the lengths as he never stops his thrusting. His thumb continues to circle your sensitive clit, wanting to extend your orgasm for as long as he could.
“Good girl. Just look at the mess you made on my cocks. Creaming them and making them so wet.” He watches as your chest heaves, trying to bring air into your lungs. Rafayel pauses in his thrusting to give you a second to regain your composure. When you look up at him with those big, wet eyes, he lets out a groan, sliding his cocks out and pulling you up. Wrapping his arms around you, Rafayel pulls you into the water. He shushes you with a single clawed index finger. “You trust me?”
You peer into his eyes; eyes as blue as the sea, and see that while his pupils were blown wide with lust, you could see the love he always held in them for you. Folding your arms around his neck, you place your forehead against his and nod. “I trust you, Rafayel. I wouldn’t have let you do this to me if I didn’t.”
He smiles as the soft gills at his neck open. Rafayel’s cocks slip up your legs and one teases your clit while the other nudges at your slick little opening. “Take a breath.” That was the only warning you got before his lips close over yours and he pulls you both under water. His tail propels you both so that you were stationary under the gentle waves of the sea as his cocks then slip back inside your aching cunt. Rafayel spins the two of you around in the water as he breathes for you while simultaneously stealing the very air out of your lungs with every desperate moan you give.
Your eyes clench tightly together as you allow Rafayel’s tongue past your mouth and take in the air he blew into your lungs, giving it back in a keens and cries of pleasure as his cocks thrust in and out of weeping cunt. You whimper against his lips as the thick pointed tips brush against your cervix, wriggling against it like they were going to slip past it to fuck directly into you aching, womb. Your lower belly clinches as heat heats through your veins. You buck your hips against his wide tail, the soft scales of his slit rubbing against your labia and tickling your clit.
Rafayel swallows every last moan, whine, and whimper you let out as his hips meet yours thrust for thrust. He uses his fin to help guide him through the water, his eyes peeking open to see where you were. His cocks felt like they were going to explode inside you at any moment, but he wanted to make you cum again before he even thought about cumming. His fingers find your nipples again, tugging and twisting them between his index and thumb as he speeds up the momentum of his cocks, fucking your tight cunt in such a pace that it nearly made you break away from him.
You whimper against his lips, almost breaking away from him if his hand hadn’t immediately pressed against the back of your neck to keep you close. You suck in a desperate lungful of air only to let it out in a muffled scream of his name as you come hard, your sensitive little clit twitching and throbbing against his soft scales as they rub against it. Bubbles pop around your head as your scream echoes in the water around you two. Finally just as your heads break through the surface, he lets you break away.
Sucking in quick breaths, your chest heaving from the back to back orgasm as he never stops pumping his dicks into your poor abused little hole, you claw at his chest. “Rafayel! I can’t anymore!” You bemoaned, balling your fists up to hammer them against his chest. Gasping when he grabs one and brings it to his lips, his Lumerian fangs grazing over the artery in your wrist.
“You can, Miss Bodyguard.” Rafayel murmurs as he swims over to the waters’ edge and lays you down on the sand. He pulls out for a moment and turns you to lay on your belly as his guides his tail between your thighs, using his weight to spread them. “Yes, you can, Cutie.  Just one more for me. Then I’ll breed this sweet little cunt like I always do. Such a good girl you are, Miss Bodyguard. That what you want? - For me to breed you and fill you with my eggs?”
You whimper out when he lifts your hip easily, the tips of his cock slipping against your entrance. His words were like silk to you - soft and velvety as they caress your ears. His praise warms your skin as he slowly brings you back up on his cocks. You wiggle your hips, grinding against him as you take in inch by delicious inch of cocks not meant for humans, but neither of you cared. “Oh fuck...baby...” you whined out as he stretches your sore walls out once more. Fingers slips past your lips to press down on your tongue as his other hand grabs the fat of your hips and fucks into with slow, deep thrusts, his scales rubbing against your swollen labia.
“Good girl.” Rafayel purrs as he feels you immediately suck on his fingers as he bottoms out with a low grunt. “Such a tight little pussy no matter how many times I fuck it to the shape of my cocks.” He could feel his high approaching as he slams his hips into you over and over, faster and faster.  “Fuck, baby girl, you’re gonna milk me so fucking good.” He took his fingers from your mouth, trailing the strings of saliva that clung to them down your belly to your swollen clit. 
Wrapping his free hand around your throat, Rafayel locks you in place when you jolt and try to squirm away from his deft fingers on your clit. His mouth finds your pulse point and his lips close over it to suck a his marks into your flesh, fangs brushing against your jugular. “Gotta cum for me, Cutie. Only then will I fill this sloppy pussy up to the brim with my cum.”
You let out a loud whimper of his name as he fucks into harder, faster as your fingers dig into the soft sand under you, burying them deeper into the slippery earth. “Fuck, Rafayel! ‘S too much.” Your eyes waters as he tightens his hand around your throat as you could feel him swell inside you and you knew that he was close. Turning your head so that your lips were to his ear, you moan out sensually. “Rafayel~ Fill me up, please? Wanna cum together with you. Breed me and let me carry your eggs.”
That triggers something in Rafayel as his hips stutter hearing you wanting him to fill you up with his eggs (even if that was impossible) makes his cocks twitch  “Cum with me, please, my Cutie.” He thrusts into once, twice, three more times before he cums, spraying your insides white with his sticky seed. He groans when your own release hits you as you squirt hard, the hot liquid drenching his fingers and pools underneath you on the beach. “That’s my girl.”
Your breathing comes out in quick pants as Rafayel slowly brings you back down from your high, kissing your shoulder gently and rubbing his hands over your breasts soothingly. His hips rocks gently into yours, the mixture of his and your cum spilling down his softening cocks. Rafayel rolls off of you, light shimmering around his body as his tail morphs back into his human legs. “That was...” You breathe as you turn over to rest your head against his chest.
His lips nuzzle your hair gently. “Amazing. I know. We can do it again once we’re home in the bath tub.” Rafayek laughs when your fists smack his chest before you reach up and pinch his cheeks. “Ow, ow, ow, I was kidding.” He rises to his feet, his clothing still scattered along the beach and pulls his underwear and pants back on. He looks back and notices something drifting up onto the land. Rafayel quickly scoops it up and places it in his pocket. Just as he did that, you sit up and button your blouse back up and smooth back down your damp skirt.
“Rafayel, what did you do with my panties?
His thumb brushes over the ruined lace in his pocket, a teasing smirk spreading over his lips. “Would you like to know, Miss Bodyguard? Let’s get you home and dry before you catch a cold.”
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2022-24 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.
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Taglist: @linpunny, @ryomance @bleach-your-panties, @m00nchildwrites, @celestialforce, @tkeuphoric @yandere-kou , @hellkaiserinphoenix , @quaranweeb
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pucksandpower · 11 months ago
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The Princess and the Piastri
Oscar Piastri x Princess of Denmark!Reader
Summary: in which you follow the time-honored tradition of Danish royalty falling in love with Australians
Note: dedicated to my favorite Dane, @struggling-with-drivers, who had to put up with me taking months to finally get the proper inspiration to write this
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“And if you’ll just follow me, Your Majesty and Your Royal Highnesses, I’ll take you to meet Kevin now,” the overly peppy Haas PR representative says as she gestures down the garage.
You force a smile, trying not to physically recoil as you take in the assault of garish Haas branding surrounding you. The white, red, and black color scheme is far too harsh on the eyes this early on a Saturday morning.
“Oh goody,” your younger sister Josephine says flatly, eliciting a snort from your younger brother Vincent.
Your mother, Queen Mary, shoots the two a reproachful look before turning back to the PR rep with a polished smile. “We’re very excited to meet Kevin and support Denmark’s driver.”
The PR rep beams and starts leading you further into the Haas garage, rattling on about Haas’ ambitious goals for the season as you pass mechanics in matching black Haas polos barely paying you any mind.
You internally groan, already dreading the interaction ahead. As the Crown Princess, you’ve long perfected the art of feigning interest, but this weekend has tested even your limits.
“And I know meeting the future queen will just make Kevin’s day!” The rep continues enthusiastically. “He was so honored when King Frederik reached out about you all coming this weekend to support him.”
You resist the urge to snort. More like the royal communications secretary reached out when they realized the Australian Grand Prix overlapped with your visit to your mother’s family in Australia. Nothing like conveniently timing a royal appearance to drum up positive press.
Your younger sister, Isabella, sidles up next to you, linking her arm through yours commiseratingly. At 16, she’s already mastered your family’s signature skill — conveying boredom through a pleasant facial expression.
“I have some fresh sets of Haas merch we would love for you to wear when you meet Kevin,” the rep says, holding out stacks of Haas emblazoned caps and shirts insistently. “It would mean so much to the team for you to showcase your support.”
You force a smile, already shaking your head. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t wear anything with advertisements or sponsors per royal protocol.”
The PR rep’s face falls slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, I understand. Shall we?”
She gestures further down the garage to where the Haas drivers are standing with team personnel. Kevin Magnussen spots your approach, nudging his teammate before they turn towards you.
As you reach them, Kevin steps forward first, offering a short bow. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it’s an honor to meet you.”
You offer your hand, which he takes, bowing again as he brushes his lips over your knuckles. “The honor is ours, Mr. Magnussen. Denmark is proud to have you representing us in Formula 1.”
Kevin smiles bashfully as you drop his hand. “Please, call me Kevin.”
You return his smile politely. “Very well, Kevin it is.”
The rest of your family exchanges pleasantries with Kevin before the PR rep guides you towards the pit wall to observe the action on track. Practice is getting underway, and you’re grateful for any chance to extract yourself from the oppressive Haas environment.
As you exit the garage into the sunlight, you breathe a sigh of relief. Two bodyguards fall smoothly in step behind you as you start down the paddock, taking in the buzz of activity.
You smile softly, the excitement infectious despite your general disinterest in motorsports. There’s something about the frenetic energy at a race that gets your blood pumping.
Your eyes light up as you spot the unmistakable papaya motorhome of McLaren up ahead. Now that’s a team you can get behind. Cool retro appeal and a driver line-up you’ve heard is full of young talent — what’s not to love?
You pick up your pace, eager to get a closer look at the iconic livery, when suddenly you collide headlong into a firm, muscular body.
You gasp as strong arms wrap around you, stopping your momentum abruptly. Your hands brace against a solid chest as you glance up, prepared to stammer out an apology.
But the words die on your lips as you find yourself staring into warm brown eyes set in an unfairly handsome face. The eyes widen in surprise, clearly not having expected the Crown Princess of Denmark to go careening into his arms.
His mouth opens, no doubt to ask if you’re okay, but you stand frozen as the hustle of the paddock fades into background noise.
In this moment, it’s just you and this beautiful stranger. A stranger who hasn’t let go of you yet, one hand still pressed gently against your back.
You know you should pull away, apologize for your clumsiness and be on your way. But something about his eyes makes you want to stay right here, wrapped safely in his arms.
You stand frozen, lost in the stranger’s mesmerizing brown eyes. You vaguely register your bodyguards stepping forward on either side of you.
“Your Royal Highness, are you alright?” Henrik, your lead bodyguard, asks urgently.
You blink, the spell broken as Henrik’s hand lands on your shoulder, gently tugging you back.
The stranger’s eyes widen further as understanding seems to dawn. His eyes flick over the royal crest on Henrik’s suit jacket before moving back to your face, a hint of panic in his gaze.
Before you can offer any reassurance, a voice calls out sharply from behind the man.
“Oscar! What are you doing, mate? We’ve got the strategy briefing in five!”
You watch as the man — Oscar, apparently — glances reluctantly over his shoulder to where a thin harried man bearing a McLaren team pass stands tapping his foot impatiently.
Oscar’s hands slip from your waist as he takes a small step back. “Sorry, I—”
But whatever he was going to say gets lost as the man strides forward, clapping a firm hand on Oscar’s shoulder.
“C’mon, let’s go. No time for chatting up fans when we’ve got quali coming up.”
Oscar allows himself to be steered away, casting one last, almost wistful look back at you before the brisk man hustles him around the corner.
You stare after them for a long moment before Henrik’s voice breaks through your daze once more.
“Your Highness, are you injured at all? Shall I call for a medic?”
You blink, shaking your head quickly as heat floods your cheeks. Honestly, they must think you a simpleton, standing here gaping after a man you collided with.
“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him quickly. “Just a bit clumsy this morning it seems.”
You force out a breathy laugh, hoping your flaming cheeks can be explained away as embarrassment from your blunder.
Henrik eyes you skeptically for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But please be more careful, Your Highness. Next time we may not be so lucky.”
You nod contritely before allowing Henrik to usher you back towards the Haas garage, your other bodyguard falling smoothly back in step behind you.
As you near the garage, you spot your family gathered by the pit wall, watching as a group of track marshals examines a particularly suspicious drain cover. Your younger siblings all turn as one to look at you, eerily in sync.
The knowing looks on their faces make you shudder. Of the many curses of growing up in a big family, the inability to keep secrets ranks near the top. You’re sure they’ll have the truth out of you before long.
“Nice of you to join us, Y/N,” your younger brother Christian remarks wryly as you reach them. “Have a nice stroll?”
You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. Barely.
“Lovely, thank you,” you reply breezily instead, moving to stand between your mother and Isabella.
You determinedly avoid meeting any of your siblings’ gazes, focusing on the timing sheets instead. But you can feel their curious stares boring into you.
“You look a bit flushed, darling. Are you feeling quite alright?” Your mother murmurs, pressing a hand to your forehead in concern.
“Just peachy!” You chirp in response, internally cringing at the unnatural brightness in your tone.
From your other side, Isabella leans in, voice sly. “You do seem rather … distracted. Anything you want to share with the class?”
You glance at her sharply, taking in her knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes in warning, but Isabella just smiles innocently.
“Oh leave your sister be,” your mother chides. “I’m sure Y/N is just overwhelmed by the excitement of experiencing her first Grand Prix.”
You make a noncommittal noise of agreement, turning your focus back to the timing sheets. Isabella elbows you subtly and you pointedly ignore her, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.
You’re immensely thankful when the Haas PR rep appears again, ushering you towards the back to “give the team space to prepare for qualifying,” and drawing your family’s attention away from you.
You trail after your family to the cordoned off hospitality area, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from the proffered cooler.
As the mechanics spring into action around you, Isabella sidles up next to you again, playful smile still in place.
“Soooo,” she drawls, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Who’s got you all flustered then?”
You nearly choke on your water, whipping your head to face her. “What? No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Even to your own ears, the denial sounds feeble. Isabella merely arches one perfect brow, clearly not buying it.
You huff out a breath, scanning the room quickly to ensure none of your other family members are in earshot before hissing under your breath. “I may have accidentally careened into a McLaren crew member during my walk.”
Isabella’s grin turns positively feline. “Oh, do tell ...”
“There’s nothing to tell!” you insist, face flaming once more. “We collided and his reflexes were quick enough to catch me before I fell. That’s all.”
“Mmhmm, I’m sure that blush is just because you’re so very embarrassed by your clumsiness and nothing else.”
You scowl and take a long swig of your water.
Isabella chuckles. “So was this mystery McLaren man at least handsome?”
You nearly choke again. “Isabella!” You admonish under your breath.
She holds up both hands innocently, still grinning. “What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. No judgment here, promise.”
You narrow your eyes, considering her carefully. Before you can think better of it, you mutter reluctantly, “He … wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking.”
“Aha!” Isabella crows triumphantly. “I knew it!”
You shush her frantically, glancing around to make sure her outburst didn’t draw any unwanted attention.
“Do you know his name at least?” Isabella asks, slightly more quietly this time.
You hesitate before admitting, "... Oscar, I think. His colleague called him that.”
Isabella hums thoughtfully. “Very mysterious ...”
You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. “Oh stop it. Can we please just drop this?”
“Of course, of course,” Isabella relents, though the impish twinkle remains in her eye.
You’re prevented from further interrogation by the start of qualifying. You rejoin your family, studiously keeping your gaze away from your siblings’ knowing looks.
You determinedly put the morning’s events from your mind, focusing on Kevin’s qualifying efforts. Though you can’t help the occasional wish that the handsome stranger from McLaren — Oscar — was the one flying around the track instead.
The session proceeds fairly predictably, with the top teams claiming the top spots and the backmarkers bringing up the rear.
As Kevin pulls into the garage after qualifying 17th, you paste on an encouraging smile.
“Excellent job out there, Kevin! You and the team should be very proud.”
Kevin smiles wryly back at you. “You’re too kind, Your Highness. But I think we all know 17th is nothing to celebrate for a team with our aspirations.”
You nod sympathetically. “Of course, there’s always room for improvement. But you showed admirable pace given the circumstances.”
Kevin inclines his head gratefully at your measured response. “You have a bright future ahead as queen with such judicious words.”
You thank him sincerely for the compliment before your family takes their leave, the day’s obligations finally complete.
As you all pile into the waiting cars, Isabella leans over and whispers, “Do you think Kevin would’ve qualified higher if Haas wasn’t so slow?”
You have to smother your snort of laughter into your hand.
“Without question,” you whisper back. “I think a snail could qualify ahead of Haas at this point.”
Isabella dissolves into muffled giggles next to you as the cars pull away from the circuit, leaving the chaotic world of Formula 1 behind. At least until tomorrow.
***
You stare contemplatively out the car window as the city lights of Melbourne streak by in the darkness. Despite your family’s teasing, you can’t seem to remove a certain McLaren crew member from your thoughts.
Oscar. Even his name sends a flutter through your stomach.
You know it’s foolish to get caught up over a brief collision with a stranger. And yet … those eyes. You can’t shake the connection you felt in that moment, however fleeting.
The car slows to a stop outside your hotel and you make a split-second decision. Turning to your mother, you adopt your most winsome tone.
“Mor, I was hoping you might allow me to go out for the evening. To experience the Melbourne nightlife before we depart.”
Your mother’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Go out? Alone?”
You rush to reassure her. “Oh no, I’ll take Henrik and Simone with me of course. I would just love the chance to explore the city a bit, like a normal young woman.”
You see a flash of understanding on your mother’s face and press your advantage. “In fact, didn’t you and Far meet during a pub crawl?”
Pink stains your mother’s cheeks but her lips quirk up. “I suppose we did. But those were different times ...”
“Please Mor?” You plead. “When will I have a chance like this again?”
Your mother regards you shrewdly for a long moment before sighing. “Oh very well. But Henrik and Simone must accompany you at all times. And I want you back by midnight at the latest.”
You beam, leaning over to smack a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll stay safe.”
As you exit the car, your younger brother Christian pipes up from behind you. “Hey, can I come too?”
“Absolutely not,” your mother shuts him down swiftly, leveling a quelling look at his crestfallen face.
You hide a smile as you sweep into the hotel to change, giddiness rising in your chest. A night out is just what you need to clear your head from a certain handsome distraction.
An hour later you slide into the backseat of one of the discreet royal security vehicles, now wearing jeans, heels, and a silky camisole, your long hair spilling over your shoulders.
Henrik raises his eyebrows at your outfit but doesn’t comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the club district.
When you arrive, the bouncer’s eyes widen at the royal crests adorning your bodyguards’ suits. But a few quick words from Henrik and you’re granted access without a fuss.
The heavy beat of the music washes over you as you enter the fashionable club. Bright lights flash hypnotically over the crowded dance floor. You glance back at Henrik and Simone stationed near the entrance, allowing the music to carry you further inside.
You weave your way to the bar, excitement simmering in your veins. Tonight you’re just Y/N, anonymous clubgoer. No titles, no expectations, no watching eyes judging your every move.
Well, except for your bodyguards of course. But they’re discreet enough to give you space.
You’re so lost in the heady freedom of anonymity that you don’t notice the nearby figure doing a double take. But as you step up to the bar, waiting to order, a now familiar voice sounds behind you.
“Y-Your Highness!” He stammers, nearly dropping the drinks he just received. “I mean, Princess, uh Crown Princess? Sorry, I’m not actually sure—”
You whirl around to see Oscar standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a button-down and jeans.
“Oscar!” You gasp, a smile breaking across your face unbidden. “What are you doing here?”
Pink stains Oscar’s tanned cheeks. “Ah, well my mates from the team wanted to go out and blow off some steam before the race tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But what brings Denmark’s future queen out to the clubs?”
You shrug lightly, grin turning impish. “Can’t a girl just want to dance and have some fun?”
Oscar’s eyes gleam with understanding. “Suppose she can. Well then, may I get you a drink … er ...”
He trails off, clearly unsure how to address you in this unusual context.
You take pity on him and lean in conspiratorially. “Tonight, I’m just Y/N. No need for fancy titles.”
Relief flashes across Oscar’s face and he smiles. “Y/N it is.”
Soon you’ve got drinks in hand and are chatting easily at a tall table beside the dance floor. Oscar is witty and charming, and laughs freely at your sarcastic commentary about Formula 1.
You’re amazed by how at ease you feel in his presence, the crown’s ever-present weight lifted from your shoulders. With Oscar, you’re not an heiress apparent, but just a girl talking to a boy she really really likes.
When he asks what you think of McLaren, you perk up eagerly. “Oh yes, what is it exactly that you do there? Are you an engineer or mechanic of some sort?”
Oscar’s eyes shutter briefly and he clears his throat. “Ah, something like that. Mostly just tinkering to try and make the car faster.”
He steers the conversation to safer waters before you can inquire further. You make a mental note to look up the full McLaren staff list later and figure out his specific role.
The night flies by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. Oscar gamely joins you on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on your waist as you sway together.
When at last you note the time, disappointment sinks heavy in your gut. Oscar’s face mirrors your own regret as he insists on walking you to meet your bodyguards.
Outside the club, you turn to him reluctantly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
Oscar shuffles his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would … would you want to meet up again tomorrow? Maybe outside the McLaren garage before the race?”
Your face lights up. “I’d love that.” Overcome by boldness, you lean in and brush a feather-light kiss to his cheek.
Oscar’s hand drifts up to his cheek, eyes dazed. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
You bid him goodnight before allowing Henrik and Simone to usher you into the waiting car, unable to keep the giddy smile from your face the entire ride back.
***
The next morning, you awake with a smile stretching across your face. The memory of Oscar’s brown eyes gazing into yours as you swayed together in the club fills you with warmth.
As you dress and prepare to head to the circuit, an idea strikes. There’s no rule saying you have to spend the entire pre-race hours cooped up in the Haas garage after all.
You slip into the hotel dining room, grabbing a piece of toast. “I’m afraid the petrol fumes in the garage were giving me a dreadful headache yesterday. I think I’ll take a walk around the paddock this morning for some fresh air before the race.”
Your mother’s brows furrow in concern. “Oh dear, that won’t do at all! Yes, a nice walk sounds wise.”
You thank her profusely on your way out, hiding your triumphant smile until the door closes behind you. Phase one complete.
You hold yourself back from rushing through the paddock once at the circuit, maintaining a sedate royal pace. But inside, excitement bubbles through your veins at the thought of seeing Oscar again.
As you make your way to the McLaren garage, your steps falter at the larger-than-life image emblazoned on the wall. Oscar beams back at you, brown hair just barely poking out from under his McLaren cap. The block letters beside the photo proclaim OSCAR PIASTRI #81.
You press a hand to your mouth to smother your gasp. Oscar is a driver? Your Oscar?
Speak of the devil, you spot him emerging from the garage, already dressed in fireproofs with his race suit half hanging around his waist. His face lights up when he sees you, lips curving into that boyish grin that makes your knees weak.
“Good morning!” He chirps, moving in for a brief hug.
You return the hug distractedly, still grappling with this new discovery. As you pull back, you arch a questioning brow at him.
“So … you’re a driver. Funny, I don’t recall you mentioning that last night.”
Pink stains Oscar’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, right. I may have omitted certain details about my role here.” His eyes turn pleading. “I hope you can forgive me? I just liked talking to someone who didn’t already know everything about me for once.”
You regard him thoughtfully before allowing a teasing grin to emerge. “Well, I suppose I can understand the appeal of a fresh slate. And it’s not as if I was fully forthcoming either.”
Oscar’s shoulders sag in relief. “Too right. Quite the pair we make, Princess.” His eyes dance playfully.
You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted by a shout from the garage. “Oscar! Debrief in two minutes, let’s go!”
Oscar smiles apologetically. “Duty calls. But let’s continue this later?”
At your nod, he squeezes your hand briefly before jogging back inside. You make your way back to Haas, butterflies still fluttering wildly.
Once the race starts, you have to work to restrain your enthusiasm as Oscar quickly moves up the field. More than once, you catch your lips curving upward as he deftly overtakes a competitor, and have to rearrange them into careful neutrality.
A discreet glance sideways shows your family members focused intently on Kevin’s efforts in the Haas. You allow yourself a small smile. Watching Oscar race with no one the wiser feels like getting away with something deliciously secretive.
The checkered flag finally waves after 58 intense laps. Your heart leaps as the McLaren crew begins celebrating Oscar’s podium finish. You have to force yourself not to join the applause as he climbs from his car, settling for clasping your hands tightly to contain your glee.
Meanwhile, Kevin finishes in 18th position while his teammate Nico suffered a mechanical retirement. You paste on an encouraging smile, tamping down your excitement over Oscar’s podium.
“Nice recovery there at the end, Kevin. Surely the team can build on this result in the next race.”
Privately, you think Haas would be lucky to keep a wheel attached long enough to make it to the end of a full race, let alone fight for points. But you keep that thought to yourself for now.
As your family rises to congratulate a dejected Kevin on completing the race, Isabella leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Not a great showing, I dare say. Perhaps you are considering transferring allegiance to a certain papaya team instead?”
You press your lips together to contain your smile. Trust Isabella to have guessed your conflicted loyalties.
“Indeed,” you murmur back. “One must be open to supporting all teams in the spirit of global unity.”
Isabella’s eyes dance with mirth, but she simply links her arm through yours, giving a sage nod. “Spoken like a true diplomat.”
As the celebrations kick off for Oscar’s first home race podium, you sneak glances over your shoulder, hoping for another glimpse of him through the chaos.
Someday soon, perhaps you’ll be able to cheer for him openly. For now, you hold the image of his smiling face in your mind as you reluctantly follow your family back out of the disappointing Haas garage.
If nothing else, this surprise-filled weekend has shown you that your heart will not be so easily commanded. And it seems to have rather fixated itself on a certain charismatic McLaren driver.
***
You hover near the paddock exit, half hoping to catch one last glimpse of Oscar before your departure. Your family made their polite farewells to the Haas team and you seized the opportunity to slip away.
You’ve just resigned yourself to missing him when hurried footsteps sound behind you.
“Princess! Wait up!”
You whirl around to see Oscar jogging towards you, face freshly showered but still flushed with elation. He draws up before you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.
“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave,” you smile brightly. “I had to come say a proper congratulations for your podium first!”
Oscar ducks his head bashfully even as his eyes shine. “And, well, I hoped maybe you were cheering me on out there today?”
Heat floods your cheeks as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “You know I can’t answer that. But I will say you drove brilliantly and I’m so pleased for your result.”
Oscar’s grin widens, clearly reading between the lines of your diplomatic answer.
“Well I’m glad I could end your weekend on a high note after the woeful introduction to Formula 1 from Haas.”
You groan good-naturedly. “Ugh yes, I think Kevin was grateful when I finally made myself scarce from that garage of doom.”
Oscar chuckles before his expression turns wistful. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading back to Denmark now though?”
You shake your head, curls spilling over your shoulders. “Oh no, we’re spending a few more weeks visiting my mother’s family in Tasmania first.”
At Oscar’s look of surprise, you elaborate, “My mother is originally Australian. Her family is from Tasmania.”
Understanding dawns on Oscar’s face. “Well how about that! Danish royalty certainly seems to have a taste for us Aussies.” He winks playfully.
Heat blooms in your cheeks but you rally to return his banter. “I suppose we do. Though from what I hear, McLaren seemed rather keen on Danes once upon a time as well.”
A rather in-depth Google search earlier that day taught you that Kevin Magnussen once raced for the papaya team. You rather wish he never left, if only so you did not have to suffer through the tedium of being in the Haas garage for the past two days.
Oscar barks out a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth. “Too right, you’ve got me there.” His laughter fades to a soft smile. “But I can’t say I blame my predecessors in the slightest.”
The tender look in his eyes makes your breath catch. Before you lose your nerve, you hurriedly dig out your phone.
“I should give you my number. So we can keep in touch.”
Oscar’s face lights up as he scrambles for his own phone. You quickly swap devices, inputting your contact info and trying not to notice how his name looks lighting up your screen.
Once you’ve traded phones again, an awkward silence descends. You clutch your phone tightly, unsure how to say goodbye when this thing between you feels so new and delicate.
Oscar clears his throat, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way ...”
“Right, yes ...” You trail off, searching for the right words. Because as silly as it sounds, the thought of not seeing Oscar’s smile for who knows how long makes your chest unexpectedly tight.
Acting on impulse, you step forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Oscar’s arms immediately curl around your back, clutching you close.
You breathe him in, imprinting this moment in your memory. The noise of the paddock fades away until it’s just this — the two of you suspended in time.
Far too soon, Oscar pulls back reluctantly. His eyes search your face like he’s trying to memorize it.
“Travel safely, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” His voice holds a promise.
You nod, not trusting your voice. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk steadily towards the exit. Your bodyguards fall in step behind you.
You don’t look back, though you can feel Oscar’s gaze on you until you disappear from view. As your car pulls away, you finally chance a glance backwards, just in time to see Oscar still watching wistfully after you.
Your breath escapes in a shaky exhale and you clutch your phone like a lifeline. Everywhere else suddenly feels much too far away.
***
You collapse back onto your bed, phone already pressed to your ear before the first ring even finishes. Oscar picks up on the second, voice warm and teasing as always.
“Eager today, are we Princess?”
You roll your eyes even as your lips quirk up. “Oh hush, you know you wait just as anxiously for my calls.”
Oscar’s answering chuckle makes your heart skip a beat. “Guilty. I’ll gladly admit your voice is the highlight of my day.”
Warmth floods your cheeks as you get comfortable against the pillows. “Flatterer. Now distract me from the drudgery of royal life with some F1 gossip. How go things in the glamorous world of racing?”
“Oh where to even start!” Oscar launches eagerly into the latest paddock drama — teammate clashes, contract disputes, and salacious hookups. You listen eagerly, living vicariously through his tales.
“Meanwhile Lando has been his usual chaos gremlin self ...” Oscar continues, recounting his teammate’s latest antics.
You laugh until your sides ache, picturing the outrageous scenes. “Honestly, I don’t know how McLaren copes with you two!”
“We keep things lively, that’s for sure,” Oscar agrees, audibly grinning. “Although we’d love an even livelier paddock with a certain Danish princess around again ...”
He leaves the statement hanging tentatively. You chew your lip, heart racing as you gather your courage.
“Funny you should mention that … I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to attend a race again soon.”
Oscar’s sharp inhale crackles through the phone. “Really? You’d come to another race?” His voice turns playful. “Any particular reason for the sudden interest?”
You laugh, hoping he can’t hear the breathlessness in it. “Oh you know, miss the atmosphere, the excitement ...” You pause before adding softly, “Getting to see a certain Aussie driver again.”
Oscar makes a pleased little noise that sends butterflies swirling wildly. “Well I’m sure that driver would be absolutely thrilled to see your face in the paddock again.”
Warmth spreads through your chest, emboldening you further. “As it happens, my godmother is the Queen of Belgium. So it should be easy enough to arrange an appearance at the Belgian Grand Prix.”
“That’s perfect!” Oscar enthuses. “Spa is one of my favorite circuits too. Say you’ll be there?”
His boyish eagerness melts your heart. “I’ll speak to our communications secretary this week. I’m sure they can make it happen.”
“Brilliant.” The tender hope in Oscar’s voice finds its mirror in your own thudding heart. A new chapter is beginning.
You chat longer about lighter topics until Oscar reluctantly says he should get some rest before practice tomorrow.
“I suppose I should let you go then ...” He trails off reluctantly, neither wanting to be the one to end the call.
You clutch the phone tighter, casting wildly for an excuse to keep him on the line. “Wait, you haven’t told me what ridiculous outfit Lando is wearing today!”
Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, words don’t do justice to the monstrosity. I’ll send pictures so you can experience it fully.”
“It’s a deal.” You know you’re only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of hanging up is unbearable.
Just then, the bedroom door crashes open and your younger brother Christian strolls in.
“Hey Y/N, Mor wants to know if … is that Oscar you’re talking to?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.
You frantically shoo him away but Christian swoops in and plucks the phone from your hand. “Sorry mate, gotta steal my sister back. Royal duties call and all that. But great chatting, bye now!”
Before you can wrestle the phone away, Christian ends the call with a cheeky grin.
You smack his shoulder indignantly. “You little brat! I was right in the middle of important diplomatic relations!”
Christian just cackles gleefully. “Oh yeah, I could tell. Your dopey romantic sighing was a big clue.” He laughs harder at your outraged stammers.
“Just you wait until you’re madly pining over someone, I’ll get my revenge,” you threaten.
But inside, not even Christian’s teasing can diminish your euphoria. The promise of seeing Oscar again soon eclipses all else.
***
Your heels click rapidly over the pavement as you sweep through the Spa paddock gates. Bodyguards trail discreetly behind but you barely notice them, eyes scanning the bustling crowd for one face.
And then you see him. Oscar stands just ahead, back turned as he bounces on his toes, head swiveling in search of you.
Joy bubbles up in your chest. You break into a run, calling his name. “Oscar!”
He whips around, eyes lighting up when they land on you. His arms open wide and you launch yourself into them with a breathless laugh.
Strong hands grip your waist, swinging you in an enthusiastic circle before setting you back on your feet. Neither of you make any move to step back, standing tangled together.
“You came,” Oscar murmurs, voice awed like he can’t quite believe you’re real.
You lean into him, his warmth chasing away the months spent missing him. “Of course. After all, I made a promise to a certain driver.”
Oscar’s answering smile outshines the sun. Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, keeping one hand entwined with yours.
“Well then, allow me to escort you inside properly.” He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles before leading you towards the paddock entrance.
After scanning your VIP guest pass, courtesy of Oscar, you pass through security hand-in-hand, giddy smiles fixed in place.
The paddock buzzes with activity but you only have eyes for Oscar as he guides you straight to the McLaren garage.
Mechanics glance up curiously as you enter behind Oscar. He squeezes your hand, leaning in close.
“Ready to meet the team, Princess?” At your answering nod, he steers you confidently through the organized chaos.
You run a suddenly nervous hand over your hair as Oscar approaches a genial looking man conversing with a slimmer bearded man.
“Zak, Andrea — there’s someone special I want you both to meet.”
The two men turn, eyebrows raising in polite expectation. Oscar gently tugs you forward.
“This is Crown Princess Y/N of Denmark. Y/N, meet Zak Brown, our CEO, and Andrea Stella, team principal.”
Zak’s eyebrows climb higher but he recovers smoothly, extending a hand. “Your Royal Highness, welcome. We’re honored to host you in our garage.”
You return his firm handshake. “The honor is mine, thank you. Your team has been so welcoming.”
After greeting Andrea as well, Oscar steers you further inside just as a mop of fluffy brown hair zooms by.
“Oscar, mate! There you are, I’ve been ...” The words die on his lips as he spots you, mouth falling open comically. His eyes dart between you and Oscar rapidly.
“Lando, come meet the princess!” Oscar calls out cheekily.
Lando snaps his jaw shut, looking utterly bewildered but offering you a hasty bow. “Your Highness! I mean, lovely to meet you, really.”
Amusement flickers through you at his gobsmacked expression. Oscar shoots you a playful wink over Lando’s shoulder as he scrambles to regain composure.
“But, wait.” Lando glances between you again in confusion. “You mean all those times you cooed ’good morning, Princess’ over the phone … you were talking to an actual princess!”
Oscar bursts out laughing while you press a hand to your mouth to smother your own giggles. Lando flushes but eventually joins in your laughter.
After extracting a promise to explain everything later, Oscar steers you away so they can focus on final prep.
“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of during the race before I have to suit up,” he promises, getting you settled with refreshments.
The anticipation builds until finally the cars are screaming away from the grid in a blur of color. Your nails dig into your palms as positions shuffle wildly on the first lap.
But soon Oscar settles into a rhythm, battling wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. You’re on your feet with every overtake, yelling yourself hoarse.
The final laps loom with Oscar still fighting for a podium finish. But suddenly disaster strikes for the leaders. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc collide attempting to lap a backmarker on the Kemmel Straight.
You watch in disbelief as both the Red Bull and Ferrari limp to a stop off the track, clearing the path for Oscar to sweep through into the lead.
The McLaren garage roars in elation as Oscar maintains the gap and finally, finally crosses the line to claim his maiden Grand Prix win.
Chaos erupts as a stampede of papaya uniforms makes its way towards parc fermé but Oscar’s performance coach Kim grasps your arm urgently. “Quickly, he’ll want you there for this!”
Kim rushes you down towards the area where Oscar guides his car to a stop. He vaults out, pumping both fists and clambering atop the chassis in triumph.
Your breath catches at the sight of his windswept hair and exultant grin. As McLaren swarms Oscar, his gaze catches on you at the barrier, pressed close by Kim.
In two strides Oscar is right there, joy and adrenaline shining in his eyes. His hand cups your cheek … and then his lips find yours.
The roar around you fades away. For one perfect, suspended moment, your world narrows down to Oscar’s lips slanted over yours, his fingers tangled in your hair.
When you break apart, eyes flying open, the full reality crashes back in. But with Oscar’s breathless laugh warming your skin, the rest of the world no longer matters.
***
You pace the plush hotel carpet, nerves jangling as you await the imminent video call with your family. Since Oscar’s podium kiss yesterday, you’ve been hyper aware of your phone blowing up with notifications but too anxious to check them.
A brisk knock precedes your royal secretary poking his head in. “The call is ready whenever you are, Your Highness.”
Squaring your shoulders, you take a seat at the polished desk as the large monitor springs to life. Your family’s faces fill the screen, ranging from sympathetic (Isabella) to highly amused (Christian).
Before you can get a word in, the royal PR advisors elbow into view, expressions like thunderclouds.
“Your Royal Highness, might we have a word about this … incident from the race?” The chief advisor’s tone drips disapproval.
Ice trickles down your spine but you keep your face neutral. “Of course.”
“I trust you’ve seen the coverage?” At your hesitant nod, the advisor continues, “Then you understand what an embarrassment this is, how damaging to the dignity of the crown.”
You clench your jaw, anger rising. But he barrels on, “Such scandalous behavior, and broadcast globally! You must see how this recklessness reflects poorly on Denmark.”
The rest of the advisors murmur emphatic agreement. Your cheeks burn in humiliation even as you desperately blink back furious tears.
“The narrative has already spiraled out of control. Such associations cannot be tolerated from the future queen.”
The scorn in his tone ignites your temper. But before you can spit out a scathing retort, a commanding voice interrupts.
“Enough!” Your father’s stern face fills the screen, pinning the advisors with an icy glare. They recoil, mouths snapping shut.
Satisfied, your father turns to you, expression softening. “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. What matters most is that you’re happy.”
Hope flickers tentatively inside you as the advisors gape. But your father silences them with another quelling look.
“I know a thing or two about duty versus matters of the heart.” His eyes soften, finding your mother. “I’ll not see my daughter denied the same chance at love that brought me such joy.”
Your mother smiles gently, affection shining through the screen. On her other side, Isabella squeezes her shoulder in solidarity.
The fight drains from the advisors under your father’s resolute gaze. With a few grumbled concessions, they disconnect from the call.
Your muscles uncoil in relief as your attention returns fully to your family. Isabella waggles her eyebrows.
“Soooo … looks like someone had an eventful race!”
Heat floods your cheeks but you can’t suppress a giddy smile. “It just sort of happened in the heat of the moment.”
“This Oscar must be something special,” your mother remarks kindly.
Your insides turn to mush at the memory of Oscar’s kiss. “He really is. I can’t explain it, but it feels … right with him.”
Your normally stoic mother looks touched. “Then he has my blessing.”
On her other side, Christian smirks. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re in looooove.” He exaggerates a swoon, cackling when you stick your tongue out at him.
“Hush dear, let your sister be happy,” your mother chides, swatting his shoulder before smiling indulgently. “Reminds me of another young prince long ago, besotted with an Australian girl ...”
Your father laughs, eyes crinkling. “Too right, darling. Clearly our Y/N takes after me.” He winks at you. “We Danes do seem to have a weakness for Aussies.”
You groan good-naturedly at the gentle teasing, buoyed by your family’s support. With their love behind you, the rest no longer matters.
You conclude the call with hugs blown through the screen and a heart full to bursting. No matter what the coming days hold, you won’t be facing them alone.
Later, a hesitant knock interrupts your contented musings. You open the door to find Oscar, eyebrows pinched anxiously.
But at the sight of your radiant smile, the tension melts from his frame. His hands settle comfortably on your waist like coming home.
“So ...” he begins, nose scrunching up adorably, “Think your family will let you keep me around?”
You answer by pulling him down into a long, sweet kiss. When you finally separate, foreheads pressed together, Oscar sighs out, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Your answering laugh fills the space between you as he lifts you effortlessly into a spinning embrace. The setting sun gilds the hotel room in amber, basking you both in warmth and promise.
Let the world say what they will. You’ve made your choice, the only one your heart would allow. And with Oscar’s arms encircling you now, you know you’re right where you belong.
***
“Come on, it’ll be great! When’s the next chance you’ll get to come down under?”
Oscar’s pleading face fills your laptop screen, bottom lip poking out beseechingly. You try to stand firm, but your resolve is crumbling.
“I don’t know … won’t I be imposing on your family time?”
Oscar waves a hand breezily. “Nah, Mum and Dad have been hassling me nonstop to bring you for a visit. Trust me, they’ll smother you with Aussie hospitality.”
You chew your lip thoughtfully. A trip together does sound tempting. And you’re endlessly curious to see where Oscar grew up.
Sensing your wavering, Oscar presses his advantage. “There’s so much I want to show you! The beach I learned to surf at, my favorite cafes and shops ...”
His voice turns coaxing. “And just think, falling asleep under the southern stars ...”
Your heart flutters traitorously. Oscar knows your weakness for astronomy. With a defeated huff, you nod.
“Oh alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for next month.”
Oscar whoops, pumping a victorious fist. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”
The rest of the call passes in eager planning until Oscar reluctantly disconnects to start his day. As the screen goes dark, butterflies swell in your stomach. A whole trip together!
The weeks crawl by agonizingly until finally you’re boarding the royal jet bound for Melbourne, giddiness rising with each mile.
Oscar is waiting when you deplane, sweeping you up joyfully the second your feet hit the tarmac. You cling to him, breathing in the scent of home you’ve missed so much.
As the hug extends well past proper etiquette, your bodyguard Henrik pointedly clears his throat. You spring apart, blushing when you meet his knowing gaze.
Oscar just grins unrepentantly, grabbing your hand to lead you towards where his parents are waiting.
You spot them immediately — Oscar’s smile mirrored on his mother’s face and his kind eyes reflected in his father’s crinkled gaze. They hurry over, clasping your hands warmly.
“Your Royal Highness, we’re so honored to finally meet you!” His mother gushes. “Oscar’s told us so much, I feel as if we know you already.”
You smile, charmed by her easy manner. “The honor is mine, Mrs. Piastri. Please, call me Y/N.”
She pats your hand merrily. “Of course, dear! And you must call me Nicole. Now come, let’s get you home and settled.”
The ride to Oscar’s childhood home passes quickly, filled with lively conversation. His parents’ sweet banter reminds you so much of your own.
When you arrive, Nicole loops her arm through yours, bustling you inside. “We’ve freshened up Oscar’s old room for you, I do hope it’s comfortable.”
You take in the posters of racing legends and cricketers adorning the walls, the cluttered bookshelves full of well-loved texts. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“Excellent!” Nicole claps her hands. “Now, you two get settled. Dinner will be ready shortly.”
She disappears down the hall with a parting wink that makes Oscar flush beet red. You stifle a laugh and let him tug you further inside.
Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and easy laughter. Chris’ eyes twinkle knowingly as he refills your wine.
“We’re just delighted to finally meet the girl who’s made our Oscar so happy.”
Oscar covers his face in exaggerated mortification, but his fingers squeeze yours under the table. You lift your joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles when his parents aren’t looking.
The peaceful mood continues as Nicole breaks out photo albums. You coo over baby pictures of Oscar, smothering laughter at his gap-toothed grin and wild hair.
Yawns eventually take over and everyone reluctantly shuffles off to bed. In Oscar’s room, you borrow his old karting club shirt to sleep in.
Oscar looks up from turning down the duvet, eyes darkening as he takes you in. “This was a terrible idea, you looking so cute in my clothes.”
You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose before climbing into bed and patting the space next to you. Oscar obliges, pulling you close and nuzzling into your hair.
Outside the window, the infinity of the southern skies beckons. But here in Oscar’s arms, you have everything you need.
Oscar hums contentedly, dropping a kiss to your hair as your eyes drift closed.
“Sweet dreams, my princess,” he whispers. You float off cradled in his warmth, perfectly at peace.
The rest of the trip passes in blissful domesticity — lazy beach days, intimate dinners, long talks under the stars. Meeting Oscar’s family feels like coming to a second home.
On your last night, you creep outside to sit curled against him on the back porch, committing every detail to memory.
“I don’t want this to end,” you whisper into the quiet night.
Oscar presses a lingering kiss below your ear. “It’s only the start for us.”
And basking in his touch, the infinite potential of the future unfolding before you, you know he’s right. This is just the beginning.
***
You smooth your hands over your dress, peering anxiously out the palace window overlooking the winding driveway. Any moment now, the car bringing Oscar should pull through the gates.
It’s his first time visiting the palace and meeting your family officially as your boyfriend. You know they’ll love him, but nerves still flutter in your chest.
The crunch of tires on gravel draws your gaze back outside. You watch Oscar emerge from the car, craning his head back to take in the towering palace facade.
Unable to wait any longer, you gather your skirts and hurry downstairs just as he steps inside the grand entryway.
Oscar turns at the click of your heels, face melting into a smile. In a few quick strides, he sweeps you into his arms, spinning you joyfully.
You cling to him, breathing in the soothing scent of home you’ve missed. When he sets you down, hands come up to frame your face tenderly, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.
“There’s my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you so much, Princess.”
Heart swelling, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that conveys weeks of longing. Oscar responds urgently, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.
A pointed cough interrupts your reunion. You pull back to see your brother Christian smirking knowingly.
“Well now I see why you were so eager for Oscar’s visit. Should I come back later?”
You stick your tongue out at him even as a blush stains your cheeks. Taking Oscar’s hand, you lead him towards the family wing.
“Come on, everyone’s excited to finally meet you properly.”
Voices carry from the dining room as you approach. Inside, your family looks up, faces alight with warmth and curiosity.
Your father strides forward first, clasping Oscar’s hand firmly. “Oscar, welcome. We’re delighted to have you here.”
Oscar returns the handshake graciously. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”
More greetings follow before your mother guides everyone to the table. Oscar pulls out your chair, pressing a discreet kiss to your temple as you sit. Happiness bubbles up inside at having him here with your family.
Dinner passes enjoyably, conversation flowing. Oscar charms them all effortlessly with his quick wit and humor. Laughter fills the room, the atmosphere light and intimate.
With dessert finished, your siblings seize their chance to grill Oscar playfully.
“Sooo tell us,” Isabella begins, propping her chin on her hands. “What exactly are your intentions with our dear sister?”
Oscar just grins, unfazed. “Why, to make her happy every single day, of course.”
You melt at his simple sincerity, grasping his hand under the table.
“Good answer!” Christian crows. “But know if you ever hurt her, you’ll have the entire Danish army to answer to.”
Despite his teasing tone, you know Christian means every word. Oscar inclines his head solemnly.
“You have my word such a day will never come. Her happiness means everything to me.”
Your siblings appear satisfied, moving on to pepper Oscar with questions about his career and interests. He takes their antics in stride, witty comebacks drawing fond laughter from your parents.
The relaxed family atmosphere reminds you so much of that first dinner at Oscar’s childhood home. Your heart swells with quiet joy at how seamlessly he fits here too.
Eventually Oscar politely extracts you both, citing early flights in the morning. Alone in the hall, he sags against the wall in exaggerated relief.
“Whew, your family is something else! I think that interrogation was more intense than any press conference.”
You laugh and swat his shoulder before lifting on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You were wonderful. I’m so happy you’re here.”
Oscar’s eyes soften. “Me too, Princess. Being here with you feels like home.”
Heedless of any lingering eyes, you kiss him again under the twinkling chandelier.
A loud retching sound interrupts you. “Ugh, get a room you two!” Christian complains, dodging your swat.
Oscar just tugs you closer with a chuckle. “Don’t worry mate, I plan to.”
He silences Christian’s protests with another searing kiss. And surrounded by Oscar’s warmth, you can’t bring yourself to care who sees.
***
Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. You lay curled against Oscar’s chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.
The steady rhythm soothes you, but your own heart feels anything but calm. There’s something you need to discuss, but nerves stall your tongue.
Sensing your tension, Oscar’s hand comes up to sift gently through your hair. “Penny for your thoughts, love?”
You lean into his touch, gathering courage. “I was just thinking about the future. Our future.” You twist to meet his gaze. “I know it’s still early days for us, but if this continues to get more serious ...”
You trail off uncertainly, but Oscar’s eyes are warm with encouragement. Bolstered, you continue.
“There are certain expectations that come with being attached to the heir to the throne. Traditions and duties to learn.”
You watch Oscar’s face closely, but he simply nods thoughtfully. “Of course, that makes sense. I’m happy to learn whatever I need to.”
Relief trickles through you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling softly down at him.
“For example, even before my mother was engaged to my father, she decided to learn Danish. The protocol and duties, the public role … it was a massive life change.”
You take a bracing breath. “I don’t expect you to make such changes overnight. But someday, if this continues on the path we hope ...”
You trail off meaningfully. Oscar’s hand comes up to cradle your face. “Hey, if being with you means learning Danish, or attending stuffy banquets, or anything else, I’m in this 100%.”
His eyes bore into yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to build a life together.”
Emotion clogs your throat. You have to swallow thickly before responding. “Well, maybe we start small then. How about I teach you a few phrases?”
Oscar grins, pulling you back down against him. “Ja, det lyder perfekt.”
You jerk back in surprise, swatting his chest. “You brat, have you been practicing without telling me?”
Oscar’s eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe just a few key phrases. Wanted to surprise you.”
His smile turns tender. “I’d love nothing more than for you to teach me, sweetheart.”
Happiness bubbles up inside you. You snuggle closer, thinking. “Alright, let’s start simple. Like hej simply means hello.”
Oscar repeats the phrase dutifully, brow furrowing in concentration. You cover his hand with yours.
“Jeg elsker dig,” you murmur, gazing into his eyes.
“Jeg elsker dig,” Oscar echoes. “What does it mean?”
Sudden shyness has you ducking your head. “It means I love you.”
Oscar’s sharp inhale lifts your head. He grasps both of your hands, staring deeply into your eyes.
“Jeg elsker dig,” he repeats reverently.
Emotion clogs your throat. You lean in, whispering against his lips, “Jeg elsker dig, Oscar.”
The kiss starts soft and unhurried, a confirmation of feelings conveyed best without words. Oscar’s arms wrap securely around you as the kiss deepens, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it.
When you eventually break apart, Oscar keeps you cradled close, dropping kisses into your hair. “What else can you teach me?”
Happiness bubbles up at his tentative Danish endearment. You settle back against him, whispering translations as his steady heartbeat lulls you towards sleep.
But too soon, Oscar is reluctantly packing to leave, both clinging to these last private hours before he has to set off for the next race.
You wind yourself around him, unwilling to let go. Oscar holds you close, murmuring promises of next visits and calls into your hair.
As you finally part at the airport, his whispered “jeg elsker dig” warms you from the inside out. No matter the miles between you, your hearts remain entwined.
***
You adjust the diamond clips in your elegantly twisted updo, scanning your reflection critically. The deep blue gown hugs your frame perfectly, but nerves still flutter in your stomach.
Because tonight, Oscar will be attending his first official function as your partner — a lavish gala in honor of the new children’s hospital bearing your mother’s name.
A knock precedes Oscar peeking his head in, hands clapped over his eyes. “Safe to look?”
You smooth your skirt with a shaky exhale. “Yes, come in.”
Oscar drops his hands, mouth falling open. “Wow. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my love.”
He takes your hands, eyes roving appreciatively over you. “Going to have to beat all the envious blokes away with a stick.”
You laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Oh hush. You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Piastri.”
And he does in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, hair swept back neatly. You brush a piece of imaginary lint from his lapel, nerves melting away under his warm gaze.
“Shall we?” He offers his arm gallantly. You lay your hand atop it, spine straightening.
“We shall.”
The ballroom glitters under fairy lights as you make your entrance, immediately garnering interested looks and murmurs. On your arm, Oscar draws admiring glances of his own with his rakish good looks and easy confidence.
You greet various dignitaries and philanthropists, Oscar a steady, charming presence at your side. As you speak with the hospital’s key figures, his hand at the small of your back anchors you.
But as the speeches drag on, Oscar leans in subtly. “Is it terrible I’m already bored senseless? I’d rather actually meet these kids we’re meant to be helping.”
You hide a smile behind your wine glass. The same restlessness plagues you as schmoozing patrons preen and prattle.
As dessert wraps up, an idea strikes you. You catch Oscar’s eye, tilting your head meaningfully at a side exit before excusing yourself discretely.
Understanding dawns on his face and he trails casually after you. In the entry hall, you hurry to a secluded alcove, grabbing his hand.
“Quick, while we won’t be missed. Let’s actually go see the children.”
Excitement flashes across Oscar’s face. “Brilliant thinking. Lead the way, Princess.”
Adrenaline courses through you as you sneak out to the waiting car, bodyguards eyeing you curiously.
“Rigshospitalet, please. Quickly.”
At the children’s hospital, you sweep inside, Oscar at your heels. The receptionist gapes as you approach.
“So sorry to drop by unannounced. We were hoping there might be a chance for us to visit with some of the patients?”
The receptionist’s mouth opens and closes before she stutters, “O-of course, Your Highness, right away!” Clearly your boldness has paid off.
You exchange exhilarated looks with Oscar as she pages a nurse to escort you up. On the cheery pediatric ward, you peek into rooms, greeting curious families.
At one doorway, a gasp stops you short. A little girl sits up in bed, pointing.
“Mama, it’s the princess! And her boyfriend!”
You glance at Oscar to find him rubbing his neck bashfully. Clearly his fame extends beyond the F1 sphere here.
You laugh and enter slowly. “We were hoping we might visit you, if that’s alright?”
The girl — Else — nods eagerly, blond braids bouncing. Her mother rises to curtsy but you wave her off kindly as Oscar produces a small plush racecar from his pocket, to Else’s delight.
As you chat and play with Else, joy lights up her face. For a short time, she’s just a normal girl again. Your chest aches at her bright spirit despite her poor health.
All too soon, a nurse taps her watch. As you make your goodbyes, Else throws her thin arms around your waist.
“Thank you! This was like a fairytale.” Over her head, her mother mouths a tearful thank you of her own.
You hug Else gently before kneeling down. “It was our honor. You stay strong, little one.”
Her returning whisper warms your heart. “Don’t worry, I will!”
Similar scenes play out in room after room. Your cheeks ache from smiling but it’s a welcome ache. The children’s awed joy makes the real reason for tonight crystal clear.
Watching Oscar kneel patiently as a shy boy shows him a prized toy car, your heart clenches with love. Catching your gaze, Oscar’s eyes mirror the same emotion.
Far too soon, your bodyguards notify you it’s time to return before your absence draws notice. A chorus of disappointed groans follows you out.
Back at the gala, you slip in just in time for closing toasts. No one seems the wiser about your little detour.
Under the table, Oscar squeezes your hand. The contact says it all — this is what truly matters. Not accolades or commendations, but joy brought to hurting hearts.
You know you’ll be back. Both of you. Not for galas or acclaim, but for the chance to see young faces light up, if only for a moment.
Late that night, you slow dance alone in the empty ballroom, music and laughter faded. Oscar’s arms circle you from behind, chin tucking onto your shoulder.
“I think tonight was the most important royal function I’ve ever attended,” he murmurs.
You cover his hands with yours, leaning back into him with a contented sigh. No more words need be said.
The rest of the world may see events like tonight as social currency and networking. But you hold the truth in your heart — the only currency that counts can’t be bought, only given freely through love.
***
Two Years Later
You smooth your hands over your dress, pulse thrumming as you await the imminent news conference. Just hours ago, the palace formally announced your engagement to Oscar, sending the public into a frenzy.
Now, you’re about to face the media together for the first time as an engaged couple. Press stands crowd the palace gardens, cameras poised and ready.
At your side, Oscar seems calm and collected, fingers threaded loosely with yours. But you sense the storm brewing beneath his tranquil surface.
You reach up and gently adjust his suit collar, fingers lingering on the lapels as you meet his eyes. He gives you a small, grateful smile before you both turn to face the expectant crowd.
Because today also brings another announcement — one that will upend Oscar’s world irreversibly.
Your father steps forward first to formally confirm the engagement and expound on Oscar’s character. As he returns to your side, Oscar squeezes your hand and you nod in encouragement.
Oscar clears his throat, stepping closer to the microphones. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Y/N and I are over the moon at the chance to spend our lives together.”
He gazes at you softly before continuing. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world to have won the heart of Denmark’s lovely princess.”
You have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless then and there. Cameras flash brightly as Oscar details your romantic (and heavily abridged) love story, punctuated with charming wit.
But gradually, his mirth fades. With another fortifying hand squeeze, he steels himself for the harder part.
“While I’m elated at this new chapter ahead, it also brings difficult changes. I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1 following this season’s conclusion.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Oscar’s grip tightens as he pushes forward.
“As a member of the royal family, I will no longer be able to continue racing competitively. I am grateful to have achieved my dream this year of winning the championship.”
His voice falters briefly and your heart clenches. Racing is Oscar’s passion — having to walk away is unimaginably hard.
Oscar visibly gathers himself. “But as difficult as this is, marrying Y/N is worth any sacrifice. She is my true dream now.”
He turns to you then, eyes glistening. “The honor of being your husband eclipses any trophy or medal. You are my greatest victory.”
Emotion clogs your throat and without thinking, you wrap him in a fierce embrace. The rules of propriety fade away, only your pride and love for Oscar remain.
His arms clutch you close as flashes erupt around you. But in this moment, you see only each other.
Eventually you separate and Oscar takes your hand once more, gracing you with a tender smile. He turns back to the microphones for one last address.
“Til Danmark og det danske folk. Jeg lover at tjene jer med ære, respekt og kærlighed.”
The Danish press reacts first, visibly surprised and impressed at Oscar’s speech in their native tongue.
You blink back a fresh wave of tears at his poignant promise — to serve Denmark with honor, respect, and love.
Overcome with emotion, you step forward to the microphones as well.
“Oscar’s love for me and Denmark is clear to all who meet him. I am truly blessed to have found such a selfless, caring partner.”
Your voice wavers with feeling. “Though it grieves me to see his racing career ended prematurely, I could not be more proud of the man he is.”
You reach for Oscar’s hand, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes. “He gives up much out of love for me. I only hope I can bring him a fraction of the joy in return.”
Oscar’s fingers tighten around yours, eyes shining with affection. Cameras flash furiously at your raw display of love and emotion.
But you remain lost in Oscar’s eyes, the rest of the world fading away. In this moment, all that matters is your shared devotion and the bright future stretching before you.
Questions start flying from the excited press corps but Oscar politely extracts you both, ceding the floor to the waiting palace officials.
Alone inside once more, Oscar sags against the wall in clear emotional exhaustion. You wrap him in your arms, heart aching for the pain this transition causes.
Oscar clings to you tightly, face pressed into your hair. “I meant every word,” he whispers fiercely. “You are my whole world now.”
You draw back just far enough to meet his eyes, hoping he can see the depths of your love reflected there.
“I know, min kæreste. We’ll face this new future together.”
The answering kiss speaks what words cannot. No matter what comes, your love remains constant.
A new path lies ahead now, one you will walk hand in hand, till the end of your days.
***
Five Years Later
The roar of engines draws nearer as your car nears the Copenhagen street circuit. In the seat beside you, Oscar bounces his leg restlessly, face alight with anticipation.
In the backseat, your three-year-old daughter, Margrethe (affectionately called Maise for short), mimics her father’s excitement, chattering cheerfully about anything and everything.
You reach over to still Oscar’s jostling knee, smiling indulgently. “Easy there, we’ve barely arrived and you’re already wound up.”
Oscar shoots you a boyish grin. “Can you blame me? It’s been so long since I was last in the paddock. Feels like a lifetime ago.”
Your heart swells with quiet awe once more at the sacrifices Oscar has made for your future together. While racing still runs through his veins, his duties as Crown Prince of Denmark now take precedence.
But today offers a joyous reunion, with Oscar instrumental in bringing Formula 1 racing back to Danish soil for the first time since 1962.
As the car pulls through the paddock entrance, Oscar cranes his neck eagerly, drinking in the familiar organized chaos. Before the door even opens, you hear a familiar voice shouting.
“He lives! The prodigal prince returns!” A blur of McLaren papaya hurtles towards Oscar as he steps out.
Oscar just manages to brace himself before Lando Norris tackles him in an exuberant hug. Laughter bubbles out of Oscar as he returns the embrace.
“Good to see you too, mate. It’s been way too long.”
You round the car to find Oscar’s former team already swarming him, clapping his back and jostling each other good-naturedly to greet their long-lost driver.
Oscar’s eyes shine as he falls back into easy banter, trading inside jokes and reminiscing. With Maise balanced on your hip, you hang back contentedly, letting Oscar have this moment.
As the reunion finally winds down, Lando gestures to you and Maise. “And who do we have here? Don’t tell me this little beauty is your daughter?”
Oscar beams, waving you both over. “She is indeed! Lando, meet my little girl.”
Lando pretends to stagger back in shock. “No way, our little Oscar is all grown up and domesticated now!”
Oscar shoves him playfully before sweeping Maise into his arms. “What can I say, my fast living days are behind me now.” He kisses Maise’s wavy hair, eyes finding yours. “I’ve got all I need right here.”
Your insides turn mushy at the adoration in his voice. The years have only deepened your love further.
More drivers trickle over to greet Oscar, ribbing him good-naturedly about his new royal status. But the obvious affection underlying the teasing is clear.
Zak Brown claps Oscar on the back. “It’s so good to have you back, even just for a day. You and your family should stay, watch the race from the garage!”
For a fleeting moment, naked longing flashes across Oscar’s face at the thought of experiencing race day excitement again up close.
But reality settles back in quickly, his expression turning regretful. “That’s a lovely offer, truly. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make our way to the royal box.”
He bounces Maise gently, tone wry. “Some of us have a job to do handing out trophies later.” Maise giggles and tugs at his ear happily, blissfully unaware of the wistfulness simmering beneath her father’s smile.
You slip your arm through Oscar’s, offering a comforting squeeze. His answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
After more fond farewells, you exit the nostalgic bubble of the garage. Oscar pauses, taking a moment to just breathe and gather himself.
You shift Maise to your other hip, wrapping your free arm around his waist. Oscar leans into you gratefully, pressing a kiss to your hair.
“Can’t believe it’s been five years already,” he murmurs. “Feels like another lifetime.”
You smile up at him sadly. “I know, my love. But look at everything you’ve accomplished for Denmark in that time. This race wouldn’t even be happening without you.”
Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Too right. Who needs driving when I’ve got you two anyway?”
He tickles Maise playfully, eliciting delighted giggles. The melancholy edge has left his eyes now, replaced by contentment.
Hand in hand, with Maise toddling happily between you, the three of you set off together towards the royal box. The Danish Grand Prix awaits, along with the bright future you continue building as a family.
This may no longer be Oscar’s world, but he now shapes the path for future generations of drivers. After the race, as Oscar graciously awards the beaming winner while Maise excitedly cheers from the side of the podium, you know this is precisely where he’s meant to be.
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weixuldo · 5 months ago
Text
Baby Fever
Anakin x f!reader
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This is based off of number 2 of this list :)- I havent really delved into kink writing s sorry if this isnt the best haha- think of the reader as a padme- type figure
After seeing you interact with a lost child- Anakin thinks it’s time you had your own baby to look after…
warnings: P in V, smex, ani has a mean breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mentiond of pregnancy
________________
Floods of invigorating politicians and citizens exited the large Coruscant city center after a successful senate meeting. You had just finished pitching a plan that would excel the economy while also protecting labor’s rights. 
You smiled as you stood from your podium once the majority of the crowds had exited- the whole public eye thing was a bit new to you. 
For the longest time you worked behind the scenes helping other politicians with similar goals; it wasn’t until a few months ago that you, yourself, were appointed as your district’s senator. 
You fixed your dress as you exited your booth and headed for the dimly lit corridors of the massive building. Most of the clamor had moved outside into the city square so the halls were mostly empty. 
As you turned the corner a small smile found its way onto your face once you saw a familiar figure leaning against a marble pillar. Unmistakable robes and lightsaber clipped to the man’s belt. 
“I wasn’t aware Jedi had any interest in politics” you said with a smirk as the man snaked a gloved arm around you before you could pass. 
He pressed his face into your hair as he hugged you tighter to his chest, “We don’t, but you know all of my interest belongs to you”. 
You sighed as he pressed a passionate kiss to the column of your neck. 
“Ani- not here” you almost whimpered. 
He quickly twirled you around to face him before holding your face in his hands, “why not?” he asked with a charming smirk- “we should let them all know”. 
He glanced out the large windows down at the crowds of excited civilians- from up here they looked no larger than ants running for a sugar jar. 
“They all love you, so why can’t I?” Anakin asked with a pout. 
You sweetly smiled before placing a tender kiss to his pretty lips, “you can, and you do- you know the ramifications Anakin, you know we ca-“. 
Anakin cut you off with another deep kiss before releasing you and playfully slapping your ass. 
“Yeah yeah, I know” he huffed, “but they don’t know that”. 
You rolled your eyes at your lover’s childish desires before leading him out of the building. 
To avoid the spotlight and attention of the crowds, you dawned a hooded cloak before exiting the center.
Anakin followed closely behind; a hand already on his saber just in case. Thankfully being in public with Anakin seemed normal to some degree because you had become such a public figure- Jedi were often tasked with protecting political officials.
So Anakin looked no different than a routine bodyguard. 
The crowds were easier to navigate now that you had some practice under your belt. You had almost made it to your reserved speeder when you felt a small tug on the hem of your long dress. 
You smiled once you realized the tugging was coming from a small child, probably no older than four. 
She looked up at you with wonder as she mustered up the courage to speak to you. 
“Senator?” She finally asked. 
You nodded with a smile before turning to her. A wide grin settled onto her small face as she looked you up and down. 
“Pretty” she giggled. 
Anakin stood a few feet behind you, trying to see what was going on over the people standing in the way- he became anxious when you dipped from view.
The Jedi quickly weaved through the remaining people to see you crouched down speaking to a small child. His expression immediately softened as he watched you interact so sweetly with the girl; making exaggerated faces at the child’s comments, pointing out her cute accessories to make her giggle, picking her up to shield her from oncoming pedestrians-
Anakin never really thought about having kids- of course he wanted them someday; he wanted to create life with you and wanted to raise his children with a childhood he never got to have. But it never seemed like the right time.
The two of you had been careful when engaging in those activities to avoid an unexpected surprise when you still hadn’t quite figured out how to navigate your secret relationship. 
But each time Anakin fucked you he got closer and closer to giving up on the unspoken rule; he got closer and closer to cumming deep inside of you without any intention of pulling out. 
You knew Anakin was a passionate lover but you never considered that your sweet, respectful Jedi lover fantasized about locking you into a mating press while he fucked his children into your fertile womb. 
Anakin had no timeline of when he wanted them, but he knew you’d make a great mother no matter how long (or short) he waited.
Though seeing you interact in real time just made him want the fantasy to spring to reality. 
_________
“Hello sweetie, where are your parents?” You cooed at the small girl in your arms. 
She giggled and shrugged, making you frown. 
“Well that’s not good, they’re probably worried about you” you said, scanning the crowd for anyone who held any semblance to the tiny child in your arms. 
She, on the other hand, had no interest in finding her guardians- instead she was focused on the shiny tinsel that had been put into your hair prior to your speech. Innocently, she flipped your hood off and began to touch your face as she admired your beauty in childlike wonder. 
Before you could react, Anakin was by your side; he gently placed the cloak back over your head to protect you from interested onlookers. 
“Ani! You came out of nowhere” you giggled lightheartedly as he guided you off to the side of the still buzzing city square. 
“Who’s this?” He asked with a smile as the little girl in your arms hid her face in your shoulder. 
“It’s ok baby, he’s a Jedi- he’s very strong and he’s here to protect us” you whispered to the little girl in your arms. 
“Jedi?” her green eyes brightened as she became excited at the title. 
She continued asking you questions but all Anakin could focus on was how beautiful you looked interacting with such a young child. How natural you looked. 
Is this how you would interact with your own children? With his children?
He couldn't help but adjust his pants as he felt them becoming increasingly tighter. 
Soon the overexcited child had fallen asleep in your comforting arms; shortly, you began cautiously walking around in hopes to find her parents. The jedi beside you watched as you subconsciously brushed the girl's hair and gently bounced her on your hip. 
Before long you finally stumbled across two very worried adults calling for who you could only assume was fast asleep in your arms. 
“Oh Maker! There she is!” the woman gasped as she reached for her baby. 
The Man she was with breathed out a sigh of relief and quickly joined her as you handed her the sleeping child. 
“Thank you so mu- Senator!” the man’s eyes widened once he realized who it was. 
“We are so sorry to have troubled you- please forgive us for our carelessness” the woman bowed. 
“No, no! It was no trouble at all- you have a beautiful daughter” you smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair away from the girl’s face. 
“Thank you, thank you so much. We loved your speech- you are just what this city needs” the mother offered before turning to her husband. 
You bowed and met the silent figure watching from the sidelines; “Sorry Ani, we can go now”. 
Anakin just nodded silently and trailed you with an uncharacteristically dazed aura. 
Once you were in your speeder, Anakin hopped in the driver’s seat and jetted off towards your apartment; his strong jaw clenched as he imagined you full with a child.
He flinched as you placed a tender hand on his tensed thigh, “Ani- are you alright?”.
________________________
A cacophony of moans and groans ricocheted off of the walls of your penthouse bedroom as your lover continuously plunged his cock in and out of your abused hole. He had been at it for two hours already and had already cum once (while you came thrice). 
Once you entered your private apartment, all of his carefully crafted will-power snapped and he went feral; the natural urge to breed you, hit him like a bus.
He was all over you; your lips, neck, breasts, cunt- you were his and he was going to make damn sure it stayed that way. 
“A-Ani! S-slow down!” you cried as he jetted his thick cock in and out of you. 
“S-Sorry baby, C-can’t- I gotta- gotta fill you up” he winced as he fucked you through his own overstimulation. 
His heavy balls slapped against your ass and a ring of foam from your combined juices formed at the base of his cock. 
He already came inside of you once, what more could he want?
“Baby- t’s too much! You're-spilling all over”.
“N-no, not enough- gotta fuck a baby into you” he grunted against your bruised neck. 
His confession had your eyes snapping open, “What?!”. 
“Looked too damn good with that baby on your hip- I-I wanna see you with my child on your hip in-instead” he babbled as he pulled you flush against his chest and rutted his desperate hips into yours. 
So that's what this was all about. 
Admittedly you didn’t mind his desires, deep down you wanted the same thing… you wanted him to reach so deep that he fucked one into you on the spot. 
“Oh Fuck Ani- I wan- I want your kids” you admitted ad you raked your long nails down his toned back. 
“Shit babe- squeezing me so tight” he whined as he gripped onto your hips with a caging grasp (surely you would be bruised tomorrow). 
He slammed his hips flush against yours with intense force as he felt the coil in his stomach begin to snap- this was it, this was the orgasm that was going to give you a child. 
He just knew it. 
“Ahh c-cumming! Gonna give y-you a child- Shit! i-i ‘m going to fuck my baby into you” he babbled as he felt his hot, thick, warm seed shoot out of his oversensitive tip into your gushing cunt as your own orgasm washed over your like a crest-fallen wave. 
“Ani!” you cried as your legs began to shake from the overpowering climax mixed with your exhaustion. 
You clawed onto him so hard that you swore you drew blood. Anakin, on the other hand, dove down and captured you into a tight embrace; his mechanical hand making you gasp at the sudden coolness. 
His body shook with pleasure and overstimulation as he struggled to rut his hips into you to push the last bit of spend further into you with shaky breaths. 
Once you came down from your high, you were so tired that you couldn’t even bother to ask Anakin to clean you up; you half expected him to fall asleep inside of you based on how tired he also looked. 
“Gonna make you a mommy- you’ll look s-so good- so round with our child” Anakin mumbled into your neck before slowly turning over so that you were on top of him (his dick still inside). 
You hummed in contempt before drifting to sleep as he gently brushed your hair with hsi flesh hand. 
“The two of you should get some sleep now- I love you” Anakin whispered before drifting right after you. 
You would have giggled at Anakin’s addition of “two” when speaking to you and your hypothetical baby, but as usual your lover was right. 
The famed “Jedi perception” was affirmed 9 months later when you cradled not one, but two small bundles of joy. You sat on your couch as you fed your children and Anakin couldn't help but smirk at the scene before him, this is just what he wanted… he couldn’t wait till you could have another one. 
***
(a/n: ngl im not crazy big on kids but breeding is hot 🤭🤭 hope this lived up to the idea on the list :0)
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lov-3-rs · 4 months ago
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Let’s be Honest
Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!
(mdni 18+)
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Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.
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The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6’3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.
You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”
You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?
He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.
You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.
The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.
You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?
He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”
“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.
You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.
What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.
“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.
Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.
He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.
He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.
After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.
“As long as we’re honest with each other.”
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kierahn · 6 months ago
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Stripper y/n being drained by bottom yandere and getting fucked by dom yandere basically a threesome
UNEXPECTED CLIENT. [ yandere ! ceo x m ! reader x bodyguard ]
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summary : yandere ceo brings an unexpected guest with him, claiming that his father had insisted on bringing his bodyguard with him everywhere. you didn’t mind, you could use an extra buck or two.
expected content : threesome with reader being in the middle ✧; overstimulation ✧; willing stripper reader ✧; voyeurism
masterlist !
✩ i've been gone for 3 months (again wkwk sorry) i'm trying to get back into writing though, but i can't promise daily fics. it might take me a week or two to post new fics. requests are open, but selective :] don't be shy to ramble about your ideas. happy reading ! ✩ cero's one of my rare gentle yanderes, except for the fact that he tries to buy you out from time to time kekw. love this man. ✩ also, thank you to @dilvei for beta reading for me ! helped my muddled brain to get through this fic fr <3 they also write scrumptious fics, make sure to check out their blog !
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➷  it was something that started out as a mere curiosity turned into an insatiable longing that persistently drew him back to the same place every single night. after a long and tiring day in his secluded office, cero sought solace in a place bustling with neon lights and busy bodies grinding against each other. 
➷ however, the allure of colorful and decorative drinks wasn’t what made him return each night. it was the sensation of your soft lips brushing against his and your body pressing against him closely that dissolved all his problems. your time together became his nightly routine as much as it became yours.
➷ adorned in a black robe made of fine silk that stopped above your knees–one of cero’s extravagant gifts–you settled on the king sized bed, meticulously prepared by the club for its most discerning clients, awaiting the ceo who was unusually running late.
➷ cero soon arrived a few minutes past your appointed meeting time. you quickly rose to greet him as usual, but to your surprise, he wasn’t alone. a towering figure trailed behind him, pausing by the door.
cero saunters over to where you stood, slowly taking off his blazer that had started to weigh heavily on his shoulders after wearing it for the entire day. he blocks your vision of the man that stood attentively by the door, making you divert your attention away from the man to the ceo in front of you. cero wraps an arm around your waist to catch your attention.
"the color suits you well," he comments as soon as he notices his gift worn by you. a smile adorns his lips as he stares you down with hungry eyes that you could feel his gaze slowly undressing you. you return his smile with a sultry one, trying to ignore the eyes that burned a hole through you.
your hands instinctively work to undo his tie slowly as you speak, your curiosity getting the best of you. "who's the unfamiliar face ?" you question quietly, hoping that the conversation does not reach the man's ears.
you hear cero sigh deeply, visibly annoyed. you could imagine him rolling his eyes by the tone of his voice. "a bodyguard," he starts as he leans down to capture your lips in his, hands trailing down your waist to trace its shape. he pulls away after a moment to resume talking. "someone had recently tried to make a move against the company, so father insisted that i bring him along wherever i go or don't leave home at all."
a low hum escapes your lips, listening to his short rant as your hands work on his buttons. you gently slip his dress shirt off, your lips pressing themselves against his shoulder blade as you toss his top aside for him to find later.
it isn't long before he finds himself buried deep inside you, ordering you to hold your legs apart as you’re forcibly faced towards the unsuspecting bodyguard. cero’s fingers knead at your swollen buds, teeth sinking on your exposed shoulders to leave marks.
you start to feel conscious as your eyes land on the man by the door who was forced to watch the entire thing. you were starting to think that cero purposely made you face his bodyguard to try and throw him off. if that was the case, it wasn't working.
"your bodyguard's hard," your raspy voice catches the ceo's attention, his eyes trailing down to confirm your statement. there was indeed an obvious tent forming on the bodyguard's slacks, restrained by the tight fabric. you inwardly snicker when you notice the male attempting to slightly shift sideward to hide his embarrassment.
"wouldn’t you be a bad employer if you left him in that state ?" you prod at the ceo, your words hinting your intent. as much as you favored cero, you didn't mind pulling in another client. it would only mean more income for you, and his bodyguard wasn't too bad looking either, so there was no reason to leave him out of the fun.
cero doesn't seem too pleased with your suggestion, a deep frown now etched onto his lips.
"are you suggesting that he joins in ?" cero questions, his tone failing to hide his disapproval. his fingers pinch and twist at your pink buds, leaving you shuddering and twitching in his embrace. blood instantly rushed up your cock when cero’s tip successfully prod at all the right spots that made you melt against him.
you try to muster up words despite barely being able to form a coherent sentence. cero eventually understood that this was something you wanted, and as much as he hated the thought of having someone else lay their hands on you, he could never turn down a request from you.
"elliott." defeated, cero calls for his bodyguard. in an instant, the bodyguard's attention is on the ceo, a startled expression on his face. cero gestures for him to move closer, and compliant to his employer's commands, elliot hurriedly brings himself over. his large stature led you to think that he'd be more snappy and alert, but his movements were unexpectedly awkward and stiff.
elliot's gaze briefly met yours, your vision blurred with all the tears that cascaded down your cheeks; half-lidded eyes filled with pleasure. his gaze is suddenly ripped away when a hand roughly grabs at his cheeks, forcing his attention away from your form to meet cero's stern gaze.
"you stare too much." cero’s forehead creases, not bothering to hide his displeased expression. he released his grip on elliot. "strip."
"pardon ?" elliot's expression is replaced with one of disbelief, his mouth slightly agape upon hearing the order. however, one look from the ceo was enough to make him start stripping himself of his clothing, knowing his job, and possibly his life, was on the line.
your eyes watch with interest as the male strips himself bare before you, and as expected, he had a good build that was totally up your alley. compared to cero, elliot was a lot bigger; both in body size and–
a hand harshly drapes itself over your eyes and forces your head back, shrouding your vision in complete darkness. you can both hear and feel cero's hot breath caressing your skin, making you stiffen as the realization of your mistake dawns over you. “i don’t appreciate the way you’re eyeing my employee, y/n.” the ceo’s lips brush against your sensitive earlobe, the sharp edge in his tone causing a shiver to run down your spine.
“I didn’t expect you to be the jealous type,” you poke fun at him in a lighthearted manner. you hear cero scoff at your words before he slams himself inside of you once more, making you jolt in surprise. your limited vision heightens your senses, making everything you feel twice as pleasurable (or painful) compared to having your eyesight. 
cero pauses abruptly, his cock still buried deep within you, as he feels your whole form tremble against him. your grip around your own legs falters slightly. you could feel each vein on cero’s throbbing erection, making you conscious of his every movement. “keep your legs up, we’re just getting started.”
your thoughts are a mess, your inability to see beginning to slightly overwhelm you. the hand that temporarily took away your sight was replaced by a thin layer of fabric, an order carried out by cero to elliot who had used his own tie to wrap around your eyes. before you could register anything with your muddled thoughts, a warm and wet sensation wraps around your hardened cock, catching you off guard.
“what–” you cut yourself off with an unexpected whimper escaping your lips when cero suddenly starts to move his hips once more. the action causes you to arch your back slightly, your lips gaped open as wanton moans involuntarily escape them.
in addition to cero’s rapid thrusts that tore at your insides with his size, the lips that wrapped themselves around your erection began to move at a fixed pace.
your fingers instinctively pull at elliott’s brown locks, your breathing ragged as you try to process each sensation their movement brought you; the fingers kneading your nipples, the lips around your member, the teeth leaving marks on your neck, and the dick ramming against your ass. it was all too much for you to handle all at once.
you bite back a moan when you feel yourself getting closer and closer to climax, until you can't hold it back anymore and end up releasing your load down elliot’s throat. your limp member twitches inside elliott’s mouth as he pulls away to detach himself from your cock, licking the remaining remnants of your cum that trickled down his chin.
cero’s thrusts grow more desperate when he feels your walls tighten around him, as if he’s trying to remind you that he was still there. purple bruises and red bite marks litterboth your shoulders, cero having done a number on you. you can feel each mark sting painfully as your sweat glazes over them.
you jolt at the sudden pain on your thigh. elliott buries his teeth on your inner right thigh, his eyes gazing up at your lewd expression. to his surprise, the sensation makes blood rush up your cock once again, and your cheeks flare up in embarrassment.
“what a slut,” cero groans out as his eyes land on your hardened member. the ceo removes his hand from your sore nipples to tug at elliot’s locks, pushing the guard back down on your cock. a gargled sound reaches your ears as elliott struggles to catch his breath from the sudden intrusion in his mouth. “that’s it. this was what you wanted, right ?”
having just recently finished, your cock is in an extremely sensitive state, twitching inside elliott’s mouth. you whimper, the sensation bringing a slight tinge of pain. too much of something is not a good thing after all, and right now you feel overstimulated.
your whole body trembles, a string of curses leaving your mouth as you try to plead for cero to stop moving for a moment. your pleas fall on deaf ears as they focus on chasing their own release. elliot’s hand wraps around his own neglected member, his hands following the pace of his own bobbing head.
it isn’t long before you feel the warmth of cero’s release painting your insides white with his seed. in sync with your second climax, elliot groans against your member as he stains the satin sheets, your overflowing cum trickling down his chin.
you lean tiredly against cero who gives a few more sloppy thrusts before eventually pulling out of you. he gently nuzzles his face on your bruised shoulder, listening intently to your ragged breath as his hand works carefully in untying the fabrics's knot.
“you did well tonight, good boy.”
elliot's tie slides down against your skin as you were met with a blinding light, your vision blurred by your own tears.
your hair stuck to your skin due to excessive sweat, but was soon brushed aside by the ceo who leaned down to plant his lips gently upon your forehead.
needless to say, you received the extra bucks you wanted by the end of the night.
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helioooss · 2 months ago
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normalcy
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synopsis: after getting fired from your job, you somehow set yourself up to become the personal bodyguard of asia’s it girl; minatozaki sana. the contract said 6 months…but they do say opposites attract…right?
w/c: 7k+
warnings: fluff, kissing, minor violent scene with injuries involved, etc. etc. like always, read at your own risk
a/n: honestly? i really enjoyed writing this but ive read it so many times that i just want it off my drafts
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the sharp glow of the gym lights flickered, illuminating the worn pages of ‘the trial’ by kafka. you closed the book with a sigh, feeling the weight of your plight settle into your thoughts. reading was slowly becoming your balm, your silent rebellion against the monotony of life.
today, though, was worst than routine. today was about fists and consequences.
it was meant to be another uneventful shift, the kind you’d become numb to over the months — wiping down benches, checking in with regulars, occasionally offering form corrections to those who were willing to listen. your black work polo, embroidered with the gym’s logo, was slightly faded from too many washes and the familiar scent of rubber flooring and sweat clung to the air.
you knew the place inside out, even if you never quite felt at home here.
as you heaved another sigh at the reception desk, you noticed a commotion near the squat racks. a woman in leggings and a loose tank top stood, flustered, her face a mix of anger and embarrassment.
across from her, a man had his phone angled at an obvious tilt, his thumb suspiciously poised over the screen.
“is there a problem?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as you approached. you were used to minor disputes, arguments over who got the next set, someone hogging the water fountain; but this was different.
the woman’s eyes darted to you, desperate. “he’s taking pictures of me,” she said, her voice low but urgent. “without my permission.”
“oh, come on,” the man scoffed, tucking his phone into his pocket. he was the type you’d seen too many times — overconfident, built just enough to look intimidating, but his demeanor screamed entitlement. “it’s a public space. besides, you should be flattered.”
you clenched your jaw. you weren’t particularly confrontational, but something snapped inside you at the casual dismissal. maybe it was the way the woman seemed to shrink under his gaze, or perhaps it was the months of barely restrained frustration you’d been bottling up.
“delete the photos,” you demanded, stepping closer.
he smirked, a slow, mocking curl of his lips. “or what?”
you weren’t sure when your fist clenched or when you decided that words wouldn’t be enough. all you remembered was the flash of anger, the way your knuckles collided with his jaw and the shock on his face as he staggered back.
the gym fell silent, all eyes on you.
“what the hell?” he shouted, clutching his face as he sat up on the floor.
you felt a pang of panic, but it was drowned out by a strange sense of satisfaction. “don’t do that ever again.”
the woman mouthed a silent “thank you,” but the damage was done. within minutes, your manager, kyle, a man who was perpetually stressed and underpaid, was rushing over and pulled you aside.
“you can’t just hit customers, y/n,” he said, his voice barely masking his disbelief.
“he was fucking taking photos of her without consent!” you insisted, hands still shaking with adrenaline.
“i get that, he’ll be banned and a police report will be made, but we have procedures,” he responded, as if a robot, rubbing his temples. “this isn’t how we handle things.”
“so what? we just let guys like him get away with it?” you shot back, already knowing how this conversation would end. “fucking unreal.”
“he’s already threatening to sue if i don’t fire you,” he answered, with a sigh this time. he was just sick of it as you. “i’m letting you go, effective immediately. i’ll have your final check ready tomorrow.”
“yeah alright,” you clenched your jaw, turning to pick up the rest of your things off the desk. “i hope all of you pricks who just stood by and watched this woman get assaulted never have daughters!”
when you left the gym with a hard slam on the door, you had your head held high, but by the time you reached your shared apartment…reality hit hard. you were unemployed, with bills stacking up and a sense of failure settling in the pit of your stomach.
jeongyeon and dahyun, your housemates, were already home; slumped on the couch after a long day of security work.
you all met in university and from then on, you’d been stuck together. of course, the degrees you had didn’t line up with your careers now, nonetheless, you were all happy.
you think.
jeongyeon had a beer in hand, while dahyun was half-asleep, scrolling through her phone as her eyes blinked slowly.
“hey,” you said quietly, dropping your bag by the door before shutting the door behind you.
“rough day?” jeongyeon asked, looking you up and down; hair disheveled and a huge rbf plastered on your face. she had a way of reading your mood with unnerving accuracy.
“i got fired,” you admitted with a heavy sigh, flopping onto the armchair as you ran your fingers through your hair.
dahyun perked up, suddenly alive. “no way,” she added, nearly falling over her own alertness. “what happened?”
you recounted the whole story; the boring shift, the spoiled boxers in the showers and the creep —each detail bringing a mix of disbelief and amusement to their faces.
“that sounds like a bitch of a day, but you punched him?” jeongyeon asked, eyes wide. “damn, y/n. i mean, that’s kind of badass, but also not great.”
“i know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “but he deserved it.”
“well, it’s not like you were planning to stay there forever,” dahyun offered, trying to sound optimistic. “but we should find you something soon. rent’s due soon.”
“hmm,” you frowned, thinking about all the bills you had to catch up on. soon enough, you wouldn’t be able to afford a bottle of soju. “yeah, that was really impulsive of me.”
jeongyeon’s face lit up suddenly. “actually, i might have something. it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s really decent money.”
you raised an eyebrow. “what is it?”
“a security job,” she explained. “it’s temporary, six months. i was supposed to take it, but i just got offered a permanent managerial role at my current gig, so i can’t do both.”
“what’s the catch?” you asked, sensing a hesitation in her voice. “i know you’d be taking it if it was really good money.”
“it’s not a typical security job,” jeongyeon admitted. “you’d be a personal bodyguard, and i can’t do that shit, y’know? the background check is really tedious but i’d do it for the money.”
“okay, shut up,” dahyun leaned forward, intrigued. “who is this for?”
“minatozaki sana,” jeongyeon said, her tone dropping to a whisper, as if saying the name too loudly would summon the heiress herself.
you blinked, unsure if you heard correctly. “wait…the minatozaki sana? heiress sana?”
“yep,” she confirmed, taking a sip of her beer. “the nepo baby herself. her old guard retired, and they need a temporary bodyguard ‘cause she can’t keep one for more than a year. i know it sounds crazy, but the pay is amazing and it’s only for six months.”
the minatozaki family was a powerful one in asia; they had their names on everything — from the phones you use to the planes that you ride. they were the definition of old money; an empire of wealth and influence that seemed to operate on a different form of existence.
“you’re talking about the same sana who’s always on magazine covers, right?” dahyun added, her eyes wide with disbelief. “the one who throws tantrums over the wrong brand of mineral water?”
“and insists on separate dishes for every meal course,” jeongyeon nodded. “yeah, that’s her.”
you felt a mix of intrigue and apprehension. you’d read about sana in passing, her life a blur of extravagant parties, expensive vacations, and notorious diva behavior. she was everything you weren’t: loud, glamorous, and perpetually in the spotlight.
meanwhile, you preferred the quiet solace of modest living, your life small but safe.
“are you sure about this?” you asked, trying to gauge jeongyeon’s seriousness. “are you going to refer me instead?”
“as sure as i can be,” she replied. “i mean, it’s not ideal, but it’s a job. and who knows? maybe it won’t be as bad as it sounds, plus, they would probably want someone like you.”
“or maybe she’ll drive you insane within a week,” dahyun said, half-joking. “either way, it’ll make for some interesting stories.”
the weight of your decision was pressing down on you. you were hesitant, but with rent looming and no other prospects, you found yourself nodding. “okay. i’ll do it. for six months, that’s it.”
jeongyeon pursed her lips, nodding along. “six months and that’s it.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the minatozaki mansion loomed ahead, all marble pillars and glass windows, like something out of a luxury real estate magazine.
as you slowly walked up the driveway, a sense of unease settled in.
this was a world you’d never been a part of, and you felt distinctly out of place in your borrowed suit, the fabric slightly too stiff, the collar too tight.
“miss minatozaki awaits you,” a uniformed maid opened the door and led you through a maze of hallways, each more opulent than the last. no one seemed interested in talking to each other - their heads kept low.
finally, you were brought to a sunlit lounge, where minatozaki sana herself lounged on an oversized chaise, scrolling through her phone. she looked up as you entered, her expression one of bored curiosity.
“so, you’re the new bodyguard?” she asked, voice lilting and slightly mocking. her accent was a blend of japanese and english, perfectly polished.
“yes, ma’am,” you replied stiffly, feeling the heat of her gaze.
she waved a hand dismissively. “don’t call me that. it makes me sound old.”
“then…miss minatozaki?” you tried, unsure of the protocol.
“absolutely not,” she shook her head in disapproval.
“sana?”
“better,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips, but it wasn’t a kind smile; it was more like the satisfied grin of someone who had won an unspoken game.
as you stood there, you couldn’t help but think back to dahyun’s words. maybe she would drive you insane within a week. or maybe, you’d find a way to navigate this strange new world.
the first week was a whirlwind of adjustments — both to the demands of the job and the peculiarities of sana.
as it turned out, being the bodyguard to asia’s most notorious nepo baby wasn’t just about keeping her physically safe. it was about managing her whims, tolerating her tantrums, and, on occasion, playing peacekeeper between her and whoever happened to be on her bad side that day.
it hasn’t even been long and you were already learning the hard way that her life was filled with chaos — both the glamorous and the outright ridiculous kind. today’s chaos revolved around a botched spa appointment.
you were in the staff room, sipping a much-needed coffee, when hana, one of the housemaids, burst in — looking panicked.
“y/n, we need you!” she exclaimed, almost out of breath.
you set down your cup, already feeling a headache coming on. “what’s going on?”
“sana,” she said urgently. “the spa messed up her facial treatment, and she’s…not taking it well.”
you hurried to the spa room in the mansion, where the unmistakable sound of sana’s angry voice could be heard before you even reached the door.
“are you fucking kidding me?” she was already shouting at the terrified spa technician. “this is not the organic serum i use! how could you get it wrong?”
“i’m so sorry, miss minatozaki,” the technician stammered, looking like she wanted to disappear. “there must have been a mix-up —”
“no excuses!” she snapped, her face flushed with anger. “i demand to speak to the manager who set this appointment up!”
you stepped in quickly, your presence catching sana’s attention. “hey, what’s going on?”
“what’s going on?” she repeated, her voice sharp as she turned to you. “they used the wrong serum on my face, y/n! do you know what that means?”
“i understand,” you said calmly, moving between her and the trembling technician. “but let’s not make a scene. i’m sure we can fix this.”
“fix this?” she scoffed, crossing her arms dramatically. “my skin is everything! this could ruin my whole week.”
“it won’t,” you reassured her. “let’s have them redo it properly with the correct serum. no harm done.”
she glared at you for a moment, the silence deafening, as if deciding whether to keep throwing a fit or let you handle it.
finally, she sighed dramatically, waving her hand dismissively. “fine, but this better not happen again.”
the staff let out a collective sigh of relief as you guided sana back to the treatment chair, your calm presence diffusing the tension.
as you turned towards the door to give her privacy, you heard her huff, making you look back at her. “what’s the matter now?”
“where are you going?” she crossed her legs, leaning against the chair. “stay.”
you pursed your lips. “can i get my coffee at least?”
she shook her head and your jaw nearly dropped in disbelief. “i’ll order us one.”
later, as you both left the spa room, she turned to you with a small, begrudging smile. “you’re not bad at calming me down, you know.”
“just doing my job,” you replied, but there was a hint of amusement in your voice.
you were used to keeping a low profile, slipping in and out of situations unnoticed. however, in sana’s world, invisibility wasn’t an option. you were always under scrutiny, whether from sana herself, her overbearing manager, or the hovering entourage of stylists, assistants, and PR personnel.
on the surface, she was everything you expected her to be. she was loud, glamorous, and seemed to find amusement in the smallest inconveniences.
one afternoon, while being driven to a photoshoot, sana’s driver took a wrong turn. she rolled her eyes dramatically, sighed, and declared it to be “the worst day of her life.”
“i’ve had worst,” you sat quietly in the front seat, staring out the window. you had lived through truly bad days; the kind that left lasting imprints on your mind. this wasn’t one of them.
for her, you guessed, the scale was different. the world revolved around her, bending to her every demand and adjusting to her moods.
“what’s your problem?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. her eyes narrowed, a challenge in them.
you blinked, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”
“you’re too quiet most of the time,” she said, as if it were a flaw. “it’s creepy.”
you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but you kept your composure. “i’m here to do my job, not to entertain you.”
“boring,” she replied, drawing out the word. “but at least you’re not as fake as the last one.”
not knowing how to respond to that, you simply let the conversation die out. this, you realised, was part of the game: sana testing boundaries, seeing how far she could push before you pushed back.
she was used to getting reactions, usually adoration or frustration — your indifference seemed to both confuse and intrigue her.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
by the end of week three, the initial awkwardness had given way to a strange kind of rhythm. you followed her to meetings, fashion shows and charity galas, always a step behind, always alert.
it was a bright monday morning and the mansion staff was already bustling to get sana’s breakfast ready. everything was going smoothly until someone made the unforgivable mistake of serving the wrong brand of mineral water.
“this isn’t evian!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the dining hall. she stared at the glass of water as if it were an insult. “who drinks this brand?”
the staff exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to handle the sudden outburst. within moments, one of the maids, jisoo, hurried to find you; and she did, with a newspaper on hand sitting on the stairs outside the house.
“y/n-ssi, sana needs you in the dining room,” she said urgently.
“what’s it this time?” you asked, already half-knowing the answer as you rolled your eyes.
“the wrong water brand,” she replied apologetically, bowing her head down.
“fuck’s sake,” you sighed but stood up and made your way to the dining room, where sana was sitting with her arms crossed, her breakfast untouched.
“what’s the problem?” you asked gently, keeping your tone steady as you walked in.
“the problem,” she said with exaggerated patience, “is that they gave me the wrong water. how many times do i have to tell them that i only drink evian?”
“i’ll get them to bring the right one,” you said, trying not to smile at the absurdity. “just try to eat something in the meantime.”
she looked at you, her eyes narrowing. “you think this is funny?”
“a little,” you admitted. “but i get it. i wouldn’t want to drink bad water either.”
her lips twitched, as if she wanted to smile but was still too annoyed. “you’re impossible.”
“and you’re thirsty,” you shot back, already signaling for the staff to bring the evian out. “let’s fix that.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
most of the time, sana ignored you, lost in her world of luxury and fame. sometimes, in the quieter moments, like when she was waiting for a shoot to start, or when her hair was being styled, she would glance at you with a curious expression, as if trying to figure you out — and always, always made sure you were being looked after by the same staff with the same level of care.
“what do you do for fun?” she asked one afternoon, her voice sudden and clear.
“i read,” you answered, not seeing the harm in a little honesty.
she wrinkled her nose. “that’s it? no parties, no dating, nothing?”
“that’s it,” you confirmed. “i like books, sometimes i’ll binge a show or two. i like to keep up with the times too; seeing as no ever reads the daily papers you get, i made the courtesy to volunteer.”
“how boring,” she said, but there was no malice in her voice this time — only mild amusement. “any girlfriends?”
“nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’. “if i did, i wouldn’t be working for you 24/7, wouldn’t i?”
“wow, that’s really boring.”
you shrugged. “not everything has to be exciting.”
“but it should be,” she insisted, as if it were a fundamental truth. “life’s too short to be dull.”
you didn’t argue. after all, you knew she was partly right. she’d been raised in a world where everything was larger-than-life; where even the smallest moments were amplified, staged for the cameras and curated for maximum impact.
in contrast, your own life had been marked by quiet corners, long evenings with your friends and the occasional attempt at writing your own poetry, which you never let anyone read.
on the nights you returned home, dahyun and jeongyeon were eager to hear about your day. they had their own security stories to tell, mostly about rowdy bar patrons or obnoxious celebrity guests, but nothing quite as surreal as your new job.
“so, what’s she really like?” dahyun asked one evening, as she stirred a pot of ramen on the stove. “i mean, we know the public persona, but what’s behind all that?”
“more or less the same,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “she’s demanding, spoiled, and out of touch. though there are moments when she’s different.”
“different how?” jeongyeon chimed in, looking curious.
“it’s hard to explain,” you admitted. “it’s like she has these flashes of being real, but they’re gone as soon as they appear.”
jeongyeon grinned. “sounds like you’re getting to know her.”
“not really,” you said quickly. “i’m just observing.”
“sure,” dahyun teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “next thing we know, you’ll be taking selfies with her.”
“over my dead body,” you shot back, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.
meanwhile, sana continued to navigate her world of excess with ease, but there were cracks in the facade. sometimes, late at night, you would catch glimpses of vulnerability — when she thought no one was watching…except that you were.
one night, after a particularly grueling day of photoshoots and meetings, you found her sitting alone on a balcony, nursing a glass of champagne.
“you know, it’s not always fun being me,” she said, her voice unusually soft, her fingers grazing over the bottle of champagne in her hand.
you hesitated, unsure if she wanted a response or was simply venting.
“i may have it all, but what’s the point of it when no one wants to get close? this world is all about money and lasting impressions.
you had no words of comfort. you barely knew her beyond the surface, and yet, in that moment, you felt a pang of empathy. you wondered if she had ever truly been allowed to be herself, or if she had always been the carefully crafted image of minatozaki holdings’ heir apparent.
“i guess that’s why you have bodyguards,” you said eventually with a grin, trying to keep the mood light. “to protect you from all that.”
she turned to look at you, a small, tired smile on her lips. “maybe. or maybe it’s just to make me feel less alone.”
you weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply stood there, a silent companion in the middle of a life that seemed to belong to someone else.
the next night, there was a high-profile art exhibit and sana was expected to make an appearance alongside other high-society figures. as you both arrived at the gallery, everything seemed to be going well, until sana noticed that her name was misspelled on the VIP list.
“are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered her favourite words as she fumed, her voice dangerously low. “they misspelled my name. do they know who i am?”
the event coordinator tried to apologise, but sana was having none of it. “this is unacceptable. i can’t believe they’d be so careless.”
her stylist, jenna, now in full panic mode, hurried to find you standing at the back. “y/n, can you please handle this?”
you approached sana calmly, sensing the anger bubbling beneath her composed exterior. “sana, let’s not let this ruin the night. we can get it fixed quietly.”
“it’s not about fixing it,” she snapped, her frustration clear. “it’s about respect.”
“and you’ll get it,” you promised, your tone firm. “but the best way to show them who you are is to stay calm and let them correct their mistake.”
she glared at you, her anger giving way to something more vulnerable — hurt, perhaps, at being overlooked in a world that was supposed to revolve around her.
“fine,” she muttered, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “but only because you asked.”
later that night, as you escorted her out of the event, she looked up at you with a mix of gratitude and frustration.
“you’re too good at calming me down,” she said begrudgingly.
“someone has to be,” you teased gently, and for once, she laughed; a genuine, light-hearted sound that hinted at the girl underneath it all.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
days turned into two months and your dynamic with sana continued to evolve in unexpected ways. her diva-like antics had become more tolerable, even endearing at times. she still had moments of complete absurdity, like insisting on a private helicopter ride to a nearby island simply because she felt like having lunch there, but there were also nights when you’d find yourself sitting on her penthouse balcony, sharing quiet conversations under the stars.
“sana, here!” a photographer yelled as you opened the car door for her.
tonight’s event was a high-profile film premiere, and sana was one of the celebrity guests on the red carpet. everything had been meticulously planned — her outfit, her makeup, her entrance.
as soon as she stepped out of the car, a sudden gust of wind caught the edge of her dress, sending it fluttering up slightly.
“are you kidding me?” she muttered under her breath, trying to keep her composure as cameras flashed around her.
you were right behind her, keeping a close eye on her mood. you could tell that the minor mishap had thrown her off, and she was struggling to maintain her usual poise.
“it’s fine,” you whispered as you walked beside her. “no one noticed.”
“they definitely noticed,” she hissed back, her smile for the cameras clearly forced. “this is a disaster.”
“it’s just wind,” you reminded her softly. “you look stunning.”
“you’re just saying that,” she muttered, her voice a mix of annoyance and insecurity.
“no, i’m not,” you insisted, giving her a reassuring look. “you’re the most beautiful person here, wind or no wind.”
she glanced at you, and for a moment, the irritation faded. “you’re impossible.”
“you keep saying that,” you replied, your tone teasing.
she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her efforts to stay angry. “only because it’s true.”
changes in sana’s behaviour had become noticeable — and everyone knew it was your presence.
“where’s y/n?” sana asked one morning, her voice carrying through the hallways of her childhood residence. it had become a common question, asked whenever you weren’t within her immediate line of sight.
her assistants and staff had grown used to it, merely pointing her in your direction, a small smile tugging at their lips; there was no denying that she was a lot softer, more patient with you around.
“i think she went to grab a coffee with the night shift guys before they leave,” one of her managers responded. “how are you feeling?”
“oh,” she frowned, but quickly replaced it with a smile. “i’m feeling great today, i hope you all are too.”
“thank you, miss minatozaki.”
you had just returned from a quick break, a coffee cup in hand, when she spotted you walking into the kitchen. her face lit up, a small grin breaking through her usual poised expression.
“there you are,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice.
“did you need something?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“no,” she admitted, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “just…wanted to see you.”
you nodded, your heart skipping a beat. the walls between you were slowly crumbling, leaving room for something tender and unexpected.
it was a quiet afternoon at the minatozaki residence. sana had accidentally fallen asleep after a long day of back-to-back meetings, photoshoots, and a few tense exchanges with her father over business decisions. you had stayed by her side the whole time, making sure she was protected and reassured. now that she was resting, you found yourself with a rare moment of downtime.
you wandered into the staff room once again, feeling a bit out of place but also grateful for the sense of normalcy it offered. the room was simple and far removed from the extravagance of the rest of the mansion.
it was filled with a few worn couches, a small coffee table, and a kitchenette. it was also where the house staff gathered for breaks, catching up on each other’s lives away from the opulent chaos of the minatozaki household.
today, the usual group was there: hana and misaki, the long-time japanese housemaids; jisoo, the young korean maid who had joined only recently; and hyunwoo and takashi, two of the security guards who had worked at the estate for years.
they looked up when you entered, surprised but pleased to see you.
“y/n-ssi,” jisoo greeted with a warm smile, her accent familiar in its korean softness. “come, sit with us.”
“thanks,” you said, taking a seat beside hana, who immediately poured you a cup of tea from the thermos on the table.
“tough day?” hana asked, her voice gentle, her eyes full of sympathy.
you nodded, taking a sip of the tea. “you could say that. she’s exhausted.”
“no wonder,” misaki chimed in, shaking her head. “sana works harder than anyone gives her credit for.”
“true,” hyunwoo agreed, his expression serious. “people only see the glamorous side of her life. they don’t realise how demanding it all is.”
“but it’s different now,” takashi added, his tone thoughtful as he eyed you. “since you arrived, y/n-san. she was devastated when taehyuk retired.”
“different how?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“she’s softer,” jisoo said, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “more human, if that makes sense. she still has her tantrums, but it’s clear she’s trying to be…better. specially around you.”
you shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. “i’m just doing my job.”
“it’s more than that,” misaki said with a gentle laugh. “sana isn’t just being professional with you. we’ve seen it. she’s happier when you’re around.”
“happier?” you echoed, feeling your heart skip a beat.
“yes,” hyunwoo confirmed. “it’s obvious to all of us. she looks for you in every room, always wants you nearby and is calmer when you’re there. she even listens to you and asks for your opinions, something she rarely does with anyone else.”
“and the way she watches you,” jisoo added with a teasing grin. “it’s like she’s in a romantic drama. sometimes, i wonder if i’ll walk in on a confession scene.”
the group chuckled at jisoo’s remark, but you felt a wave of emotion you couldn’t quite suppress. you had noticed these things too, the way sana’s eyes softened when she looked at you, the way she seemed to lean into your presence as if it brought her some kind of comfort.
“we’ve known sana since she was a child,” hana said quietly, her tone turning serious. “and i don’t think i’ve ever seen her this vulnerable before. she cares about you deeply, y/n.”
“it’s not just her,” takashi added, his voice low but sincere. “we all like having you here. you’ve brought a different energy to this place. one that’s been missing for a long time.”
“i don’t know if i’m doing the right thing,” you admitted, finally letting your own insecurities slip through. “sometimes, i think i’m just making things harder for her.”
“or maybe you’re the one making things easier,” jisoo said softly. “it’s clear she needs you, even if she doesn’t always say it.”
the room fell into a comfortable silence after that, the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air. you were grateful for the staff’s warmth and honesty, even if it complicated your feelings further.
as you finished your tea, you felt a strange sense of belonging; a feeling you hadn’t expected to find in the mansion’s staff room. you weren’t just the hired help anymore, you were someone who mattered, not just to sana, but to the people who had cared for her all these years.
however, not all moments were sweet. the intensity of being in the public eye meant that danger often lurked around the corner, specially in the form of aggressive paparazzi. they were relentless, always waiting for an opportunity to capture the heiress in vulnerable moments.
one night, as you and sana were leaving a high-profile fashion event, a group of photographers closed in, their cameras flashing incessantly. the air was thick with shouts, and the energy was hostile; an unwelcome reminder of her reality.
“sana, over here!” one yelled, his voice sharp.
“how about a smile, princess?” another taunted, his tone mocking.
you instinctively positioned yourself between sana and the crowd, your body acting as a barrier. she clutched your arm, her grip tight, her usually confident demeanor wavering.
“back off,” you commanded firmly, trying to maintain a calm but authoritative presence.
“aww, look at this,” one of the paparazzi sneered, his camera focused on you. “the bodyguard’s playing hero now.”
his comment sparked laughter among the other photographers, and you felt a surge of anger rise within you. you had learned to tune out the taunts over the months, but something about the tone, about how he was reducing your efforts to a joke, struck a nerve.
“she doesn’t need you,” he continued, his grin malicious. “you’re just another expendable employee.”
you stepped closer, your voice low but full of controlled fury. “say that again, and we’ll see how expendable i really am.”
the crowd grew tense, sensing a confrontation, but your tone and stance made it clear that you were not to be trifled with. the photographer hesitated, his bravado faltering.
“come on, let’s go,” another paparazzo muttered, nudging him away. “this one’s not worth it.”
they backed off, but the tension lingered in the air, the aftermath of the encounter still palpable.
sana tugged at your sleeve gently, her voice shaky. “are you okay?”
“i’m fine,” you said, still glaring at the retreating photographers. “what about you?”
“i hate them,” she whispered, her face crumpling slightly as she let her guard down. “i hate how they always want a piece of me.”
her vulnerability hit you hard, and without thinking, you reached out to touch her arm gently. “i know. but i won’t let them hurt you. not while i’m here.”
she looked up at you, her eyes saying it all. it was one of the few times you’d seen her without her usual armour and the rawness of her emotion was both heartbreaking and intimate.
“thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible over the din of the still-chattering crowd. “for always being here.”
“always,” you promised, feeling a rush of warmth despite the chaos around you.
that night, back at her residence, sana was unusually quiet. she seemed lost in thought, her mind replaying the day’s events. you were about to head out home for the night shift guards to take over when she called your name softly.
“y/n?” you turned around, the impacts of today etched on your face.
“yeah?”
“you keep me going,” she smiled, voice really sincere this time. “i mean it.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the third month with sana marked a distinct shift in the atmosphere between you two. it was a subtle change at first — small glances lingering a bit longer, her voice softening when she spoke to you and an almost childlike curiosity about your life. it was as if she had decided that you were no longer just a bodyguard, but someone she could confide in.
one of those nights, she broke the silence with a surprising question.
“what’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever read?” she asked, her voice a mix of genuine curiosity and something softer.
you thought for a moment, trying to sift through the endless lines of poetry and philosophy you’d absorbed over the years. finally, you recited from memory, “i have waited for you for centuries. my arms were made to cradle only you. my lips were shaped to call only your name.”
sana was silent for a moment, her eyes wide. “that’s…beautiful.”
“it’s from a poem by pablo neruda,” you explained, feeling a bit self-conscious.
“you’re such a hopeless romantic,” she teased, but her tone was warm, almost tender.
“maybe,” you admitted. “but it’s just words, you know?”
“sometimes words are all we have,” she said quietly, her gaze distant.
the conversation lingered in your mind long after that night. there was a depth to sana that she rarely let anyone see, but she was beginning to let you in; piece by piece, word by word.
meanwhile, back at your shared apartment, jeongyeon and dahyun found endless amusement in the stories you brought home about sana’s escapades. they’d often sit around the small kitchen table, laughing over dinner.
“so, she really made you carry fifteen shopping bags all by yourself?” dahyun asked one night, her eyes wide with disbelief.
you nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “yup. and she didn’t even look back to check if i was struggling.”
jeongyeon snorted. “sounds like a real princess.”
“she is,” you admitted, though there was no bite in your words anymore, not after getting to see a soft side of her.
at the end of it all, sana wasn’t the stupid nepo baby you always thought she was. since you met, she has hosted five charity events, donated most of her earnings to at least ten different organisations and it wasn’t easy to outsmart her.
it was during one of these dinners that your other friends jihyo, momo and mina showed up unexpectedly with homemade food and cheap bottles of wine.
“you look…happier,” jihyo observed, a small smile playing on her lips. “is it the job?”
“maybe,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “it’s not as bad as i thought it would be.”
momo, who had a knack for teasing, leaned forward with a grin. “or maybe it’s the client?”
mina, quieter but no less curious, raised an eyebrow. “minatozaki sana, right? she’s pretty famous.”
“and pretty spoiled,” you added, but there was a hint of fondness in your voice that didn’t go unnoticed.
“oh my god, you like her,” jihyo exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “you’ve got that look in your eyes!”
“i do not,” you protested weakly, but your friends weren’t convinced.
“yeah, right,” dahyun laughed. “you totally have a crush on her.”
jeongyeon poured a shot of soju into your glass, chuckling. “you should all hear the way she talks about sana — it’s like the heiress is glued to her hip. she does fourteen-hour shifts with her.”
“okay, fine,” you admitted reluctantly. “she’s… interesting. but it’s complicated.”
“of course it is,” mina said, her tone understanding. “complicated can be good.”
the truth was, you were genuinely enjoying the job, or at least, you were enjoying being around sana. the lines between professionalism and personal feelings had blurred, and you found yourself wanting to spend more time with her, not just out of duty but out of genuine interest.
one evening, as you were preparing to leave sana’s penthouse after a long day, she stopped you at the door with an unexpected request.
“i want to meet your friends,” she said, her tone unusually earnest.
you blinked, caught off guard. “why?”
she looked a bit embarrassed, which was rare for her. “i don’t know. i just want to know more about you. the real you.”
it was a surprising moment of vulnerability from someone who usually kept her walls firmly intact.
after a moment of hesitation, you agreed. “okay, but you should know, our house looks completely different to this.”
“even better,” she smiled.
a week later, you invited sana over for dinner at your apartment. your housemates freaked out, with dahyun saying “she can’t believe this shit” and jeongyeon yelling “our house will suffocate her”, she arrived a bit too early, dressed in obvious designer clothes (she tried to make it subtle) that seemed hilariously out of place in your modest home.
the living room fell into a stunned silence as you led sana inside. she handed you flowers and wine, a small, almost shy gesture that seemed completely at odds with her usual confident demeanor.
“hi?” jeongyeon said, her eyes wide. “it’s nice to meet you!”
“i thought it was time to meet y/n’s friends properly,” sana explained, her voice earnest. “i hope i’m not intruding.”
“not at all,” dahyun interrupted quickly, breaking the awkwardness with a smile. “we’re just surprised, that’s all.”
“a pleasant surprise,” jeongyeon added warmly, recovering from the initial shock. “welcome.”
“thank you,” sana said, her smile growing more genuine. “i brought wine, if that helps.”
“it always does,” you quipped, making everyone laugh.
as the evening progressed, sana was unexpectedly charming. she asked questions, listened attentively and made a real effort to get to know each of your friends. it was clear she was trying to fit in, and there was an endearing awkwardness about it — like she was stepping into a world she didn’t quite understand, but was determined to navigate anyway.
“so, y/n never told me you’re such a good cook,” sana said to dahyun as she tasted the jjigae. “this is amazing.”
“thanks,” dahyun replied, clearly pleased. “y/n’s usually in charge of burning the rice, so i have to take over.”
“i don’t burn the rice that often,” you protested, but your grin gave you away.
“oh, really?” sana teased, her eyes twinkling. “i’ll have to try your cooking next time, then.”
the table erupted in laughter, and you felt a warmth in your chest; one that came from seeing sana blend so naturally into your world.
moments later, jeongyeon leaned forward, her expression curious. “so sana, what’s it like being…well, you? all the glamour, the attention, the pressure?”
she thought for a moment, her expression turning serious. “honestly? it’s exhausting sometimes. but being here, with all of you, feels normal. and that’s something i don’t get often.”
the sincerity in her voice struck a chord with everyone, and the atmosphere softened even further.
“well, we’re glad you’re here,” dahyun said warmly. “you’re welcome anytime.”
“thank you,” sana smiled, her gaze drifting toward you. “i really appreciate it.”
as dinner wound down and the plates piled up, everyone started to get up to clear the table. sana, to everyone’s surprise, rolled up her sleeves and headed straight for the sink.
“what are you doing?” you asked, voice filled with genuine disbelief.
“helping with the dishes,” sana replied matter-of-factly. “is that okay?”
dahyun, who had been about to start washing, handed sana a dishcloth. “here, you can dry. but don’t tell anyone, or we’ll lose our reputations as the best dishwashers in seoul.”
she laughed, taking the cloth. “your secret’s safe with me.”
as they stood side by side at the sink, sana and dahyun exchanged stories; simple things about childhood, favourite foods and embarrassing moments. you watched from the living room, feeling a mix of admiration and affection as she genuinely tried to fit into the mundane domesticity of your world.
“she’s really trying, isn’t she?” jeongyeon whispered to you, her tone a mix of surprise and amusement.
“yeah,” you said softly, your eyes never leaving sana’s figure. “she is.”
and as you watched her, sleeves rolled up, drying dishes with a cheerful smile, you felt the hope you’d been suppressing slowly come back to life.
tonight was a quiet evening at her penthouse, the kind that was rare amidst the chaos of her schedule. she was sitting on the balcony, staring out at the city lights, a bottle of wine in hand. she had insisted on drinking straight from the bottle, much to the shock of her staff, but she sent them off, saying it was a “casual night.”
you joined her, taking a seat beside her on the wrought-iron chair. she offered you the bottle, a faint smile on her lips.
“want some?” she asked.
you hesitated, then took a small sip, surprised at how intimate the moment felt.
“i used to come out here a lot not too long ago,” she said suddenly, her voice softer than usual. “it was the only place where i could really think.”
“about what?” you asked, curious.
“everything,” she admitted, her gaze distant. “what it means to be me, about whether i even like who i am.”
“and do you?” you asked quietly, not sure if she’d want to answer.
“sometimes,” she said honestly. “but mostly, it feels like i’m just playing a role. being the perfect daughter, the perfect heiress…it’s exhausting.”
“you don’t have to be perfect,” you said gently. “not with me.”
she turned to look at you, her eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite identify. “you always say things like that,” she whispered. “and it scares me how much i want to believe you.”
the rawness of her confession left you momentarily speechless. you reached out, your hand resting on top of hers.
“i mean it,” you said sincerely. “you’re allowed to be real, sana. even if it’s messy.”
for a moment, she simply stared at you, her eyes shining with unshed tears. then, in a rare display of vulnerability, she squeezed your hand, holding onto it as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
it was a good night, one that almost felt normal; like you were two regular people.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
by the start of the fourth month, the line between you and sana had blurred in ways that neither of you acknowledged out loud. it wasn’t just that you had become accustomed to each other’s presence; there was a deeper pull, an unspoken connection that had grown stronger despite your best efforts to maintain a professional distance.
tonight was no exception. it was another high-profile fashion event for prada, filled with celebrities, influencers and models who glided through the room as if they owned the world.
you stood a few paces behind sana, keeping a watchful eye on the crowded room. she was in her element, surrounded by admirers, her confident smile perfectly polished. you tried to focus on your duties but it was hard not to be distracted by how striking she looked tonight — her black dress hugging her figure, her hair swept back elegantly, a diamond necklace catching the light with every turn of her head.
you were pulled from your thoughts when a blonde woman approached you, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. she was dressed in an expensive dress and exuded the kind of effortless confidence that could make anyone feel self-conscious.
“hey,” she said smoothly, her voice low and flirtatious. “you don’t seem like you’re here for the fashion.”
you offered a polite smile, trying to remain professional. “i’m working.”
“i figured,” she replied, stepping closer. “but even bodyguards deserve a little fun, don’t you think?”
you glanced over at sana instinctively, but she was engaged in conversation with a group of designers. for a moment, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond to the model’s advances without drawing unnecessary attention.
“i’m not really here for fun,” you said finally, keeping your tone light but firm.
“that’s a shame,” she teased, her eyes glinting. “because you seem like someone who could use a little distraction.”
before you could respond, you caught sight of sana’s gaze shifting toward you, her smile faltering for a split second as she noticed the exchange.
there was a flicker of something in her eyes.
you quickly excused yourself from the model’s advances and returned to your position behind sana. she didn’t say anything, but you could feel a subtle shift in her demeanour — her posture a bit more rigid, her laughter a bit forced.
“everything okay?” you asked quietly when there was a brief lull in the conversation.
“fine,” she replied shortly, not meeting your gaze.
you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. the rest of the event dragged on, with sana becoming increasingly quiet, her usual spark dimming noticeably.
when the event finally ended and you both stepped into the back of the limousine, the silence was thick and uncomfortable. sana stared out the window, her expression closed off, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
you glanced at her, unsure of how to break the tension. “are you sure you’re okay?”
“why wouldn’t i be?” she asked, her voice clipped.
“you seem different,” you said, choosing your words carefully.
“just tired,” she muttered, still avoiding your eyes. “that’s all.”
the drive back to the penthouse was filled with an uneasy quiet, each passing second amplifying the unspoken tension between you. it was clear that something was bothering her, but you didn’t press further, respecting her space.
when you arrived at the penthouse, she stepped out of the car abruptly, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she walked ahead without a word. you followed her inside, unsure of what to expect.
as soon as the door closed behind you, the tension in the room became almost suffocating. sana stopped in the middle of the living room, her back to you, her shoulders tense.
“was she pretty?” she asked suddenly, her voice laced with an unexpected bitterness.
“what?” you asked, confused.
“the model,” she clarified, turning to face you. “did you think she was pretty?”
her words caught you off guard. you weren’t sure how to respond.
“i wasn’t really paying attention,” you said honestly, your voice steady. “i was just doing my job.”
“right,” she said, her tone sarcastic. “because flirting is definitely part of your job description.”
“i wasn’t flirting,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice calm. “she was.”
“and you didn’t stop her,” she shot back, her eyes flashing with frustration.
you took a step closer, trying to bridge the distance between you. “sana, what’s really going on here?”
“what’s going on,” she said, her voice cracking slightly, “is that i hated seeing her talk to you. i hated seeing her try to get your attention.”
the admission hung in the air between you, charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore.
“why?” you asked softly, taking another step closer.
“because,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “because i don’t want to share you with anyone else.”
her words were filled with a desperation that was impossible to misunderstand. she closed the remaining distance between you in a sudden, impulsive movement, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and longing.
“sana…” you started, but she shook her head.
“no,” she said firmly, her hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. “i need to know something.”
“what?” you asked, your voice low and filled with uncertainty.
“if you want this too,” she whispered, her thumb brushing against your skin. “because i can’t keep pretending that i don’t.”
her confession was raw, filled with months of suppressed desire and longing. you could feel the warmth of her touch, the intensity in her eyes, and the vulnerability in her voice.
“i do,” you admitted, your own voice thick with emotion. “i want this.”
there was a moment of hesitation, a pause filled with the weight of everything that had brought you to this point. then, in a rush of courage, she closed the gap between you, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent.
what started as a tentative kiss soon turned into something more urgent, fueled by the months of unresolved tension. her lips were demanding, her touch insistent, and you found yourself giving in despite every rational thought screaming at you to stop. this was wrong: unprofessional, dangerous even — but it was also everything you hadn’t realised you’d been missing.
“sana —“
“don’t think,” she murmured against your skin, her fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. “just be here. with me.”
when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
“i didn’t plan that,” she admitted, her voice a mix of relief and disbelief.
“i’m glad you did it anyway,” you whispered, your heart pounding.
she let out a shaky laugh, her fingers still tracing the curve of your jaw. “stay tonight,” she said softly, her eyes filled with hope.
“okay,” you agreed, your voice filled with certainty. that was the first of many nights.
little did you know, jeongyeon and dahyun were becoming suspicious. they noticed your late returns, the occasional dazed expression on your face, and the fact that you seemed more distracted than usual.
“you’re definitely hiding something,” jeongyeon said one evening, her tone half-accusing, half-amused.
“what’s going on, y/n?” dahyun pressed. “come on, you can tell us.”
“nothing’s going on,” you lied, a bit too quickly.
jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. “if it’s about sana, we already know she’s a handful. but if she’s causing you real trouble, we need to know.”
“it’s not like that,” you insisted, feeling the weight of your secret grow heavier. “it’s too complicated.”
and it was. the more you tried to keep your relationship with sana under wraps, the more tangled it became. the sneaking around, the hushed conversations, the stolen kisses — they all added up to a mess of feelings you hadn’t anticipated.
it was meant to be a routine public appearance for sana — just another glamorous event on her packed schedule. this time, it was a charity auction at one of seoul’s most upscale hotels, where wealthy socialites and influential business figures gathered to bid on overpriced art and sip vintage champagne.
you stood a few feet behind her, your gaze scanning the room with practiced caution. the past few months had sharpened your instincts; you were constantly on alert, even when sana’s attention was elsewhere.
sana, for her part, was in her element, dressed in a backless red gown that turned heads as she moved through the crowd. she was charming and magnetic, playing her role to perfection. she even shot you a few mischievous glances, as if enjoying the private joke of your secret closeness amidst all the extravagance.
then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a man approaching: his movements too quick, too direct. before you could react, he lunged toward sana, his voice an incoherent mix of anger and desperation.
“you think no one can have you?” he yelled, his eyes wild. “if i can’t have you then no one can!”
instinct took over. you stepped forward, positioning yourself between the man and sana, your body acting as a shield. his fist swung wildly, and before you could fully brace for it, his knuckles connected with your face. pain exploded across your nose, and you stumbled back, your vision blurring momentarily.
“y/n!” sana’s scream cut through the chaos, high-pitched and terrified.
you quickly recovered, holding your ground as security personnel rushed in to restrain the man. your nose throbbed, and when you touched it, you felt the warm, sticky wetness of blood.
“are you okay?” her voice was frantic as she reached you, her hands trembling as they hovered near your face.
“i’m fine,” you managed to say, though the pain was sharp and your pride was bruised. “just a scratch.”
“that’s not a scratch,” she snapped, her voice full of uncharacteristic worry. “you’re bleeding. we need to get you checked.”
“it’s nothing serious,” you insisted, trying to play it down, but the look on her face was one of genuine panic.
“i’m not taking no for an answer,” she said firmly, her hand gripping your arm. “you’re taking a week off. and that’s final.”
before you could argue, she was already barking orders to her assistant to arrange for medical help and a car back to your residence. her concern was startling; it wasn’t the spoiled diva you’d grown used to, but someone genuinely rattled by your injury.
after you got the clearance from a site medic, sana immediately jumped into the car with you — face still etched with worry.
“you were bleeding,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. she reached out, her fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that caught you off guard. “i was scared.”
“it’s not that bad,” you insisted, smiling at her as you looked down on the blood all over your collar.
“this is all my fault,” she muttered, her voice filled with guilt. “if i hadn’t gone out —”
“no,” you interrupted firmly, grabbing her hand. “this isn’t your fault. it’s just part of the job.”
before she could respond, one of her managers turned to look at you both, looking frazzled and concerned. “sana, we have to leave in a different car now. there’s an urgent board meeting you can’t miss. it’s already started.”
sana’s face shifted from worry to irritation, her eyes blazing with frustration. “i’m not leaving y/n like this.”
“but sana —” junwoo began, his tone urgent.
“i don’t care,” she snapped, her voice carrying an edge you rarely heard. “she’s hurt. i’m not just abandoning her.”
you squeezed her hand, trying to stay calm despite the pain and the intensity of the moment. “sana, you have to go. this meeting is important.”
“you’re more important,” she said firmly, her eyes never leaving yours.
“i’ll be okay,” you reassured her, your voice soft but steady. “i promise. i’ll get patched up and meet you at the residence or the penthouse later.”
she hesitated, clearly torn between her duty and her concern for you. “but what if you need me? what if something happens?”
“nothing’s going to happen,” you said, your grip on her hand tightening. “you have to go. they need you right now.”
her eyes filled with tears, her jaw set in a mixture of stubbornness and helplessness. “i don’t want to leave you.”
“i know,” you whispered. “but i need you to go, please?”
for a long moment, she just stared at you, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. then, with a shaky breath, she nodded. “fine, but promise me you’ll message me later. i want to see for myself that you’re okay.”
“i promise,” you said, trying to inject confidence into your voice despite the pain.
she leaned forward suddenly, pressing a quick, desperate kiss to your forehead as a sleek silver car parked next to the one you were in. “i’ll be back as soon as i can, see you, baby!”
you waved at her, the throbbing pain spread out all over your face being replaced by your skipping heart beat. baby. you could get used to it.
half an hour later, back at your apartment, jeongyeon and dahyun were waiting with ice packs and a bottle of whiskey — ready to commiserate.
dahyun immediately clicked into nurse mode, cleaning your cut while jeongyeon shook her head, half-amused and half-worried.
“you really took one for the team, huh?” jeongyeon teased, though her eyes were soft with concern.
“it was my job,” you said, wincing as dahyun applied pressure to stop the bleeding.
“well, she better appreciate it,” mina muttered. “because that guy landed a pretty solid punch with his rings on too.”
you were trying to downplay the whole incident, but a knock at the door interrupted your attempts at nonchalance. it was unexpected, no one ever dropped by unannounced.
you shared a confused glance with your roommates before jeongyeon went to open the door.
“what the —” jeongyeon’s surprised voice echoed from the entryway.
when you peeked around the corner, you saw sana standing there, holding an enormous gift basket filled with flowers, chocolates, and other expensive-looking items. behind her stood tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon, each carrying bags of what looked like more gifts.
“we’re here to see y/n,” sana announced, her tone a strange mix of confidence and nervousness.
you froze. this was the last thing you’d expected — not just sana’s sudden appearance, but the fact that she’d brought her high-society friends to your modest apartment.
“uh, come in, i guess,” jeongyeon said awkwardly, stepping aside to let them in.
as soon as sana saw you, her expression softened. she rushed over, setting the basket on the table before gently cupping your face, inspecting the damage.
“are you okay?” she asked, her voice low and filled with concern. “i only showed up to the meeting to sign papers and then left.”
“it’s just a bruise,” you reassured her, feeling self-conscious under everyone’s gaze. “you didn’t have to come here straight away.”
“yes, i did,” she insisted. “and i brought reinforcements,” she gestured toward tzuyu, chaeyoung and nayeon, who were now trying to make themselves comfortable amidst the clutter of your shared living space.
“we heard y/n got hurt,” tzuyu said simply, her usually aloof expression softening.
“yeah, and sana was freaking out,” nayeon added with a grin, nudging sana’s shoulder playfully. “she made us come along to make sure she wasn’t exaggerating, and of course, to carry her bags around.”
chaeyoung, meanwhile, looked around with interest. “this place is cozy. it’s a lot more…real than i expected.”
“thanks, i think,” dahyun said, still processing the fact that she was suddenly hosting four of asia’s wealthiest heirs in her living room. “so, uh, anyone want some ramen?”
“we brought food,” sana interjected quickly, motioning to the bags her friends had carried in. “i figured you wouldn’t want to cook after everything.”
before long, the table was filled with takeout boxes, a mix of high-end sushi, tempura and even a few bottles of sake. the atmosphere gradually eased into a strange, unexpected bond.
tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon proved to be surprisingly down-to-earth despite what the tabloids say, laughing at jeongyeon and dahyun’s stories about dealing with unruly celebrities and bar crowd.
“not gonna lie,” tzuyu said, looking around playfully. “i’ve been one of those uncontrollable patrons.”
“oh, you have,” dahyun smirked, crossing her arms. “met gala, last year, vomit.”
“oh my god,” she put a hand over her mouth with careful exaggeration. “no way, it was you?”
“you sure as hell are lucky it wasn’t jeongyeon!”
throughout dinner, sana stayed close to you —closer than she’d ever dared to in public. she held your hand under the table, her thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on your skin. she even pressed a soft kiss to your forehead at one point, eliciting a few curious glances from your friends, who pretended not to notice.
“so, y/n,” nayeon began, a sly smile on her face. “how’s it been, working with sana? she’s not too much of a diva, is she?”
“she’s been fine,” you answered diplomatically, though the warmth in your voice was hard to miss.
“fine?” sana echoed, pouting slightly. “is that all you have to say about me?”
“you’re okay, too,” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“wow, such high praise,” chaeyoung quipped, making everyone laugh.
beneath the humour, there was an unmistakable shift in the air. it was as if your secret had been revealed; acknowledged but not addressed.
everyone seemed to sense the connection between you and sana, but no one dared to bring it up directly.
after dinner, while everyone was chatting in the living room, jeongyeon pulled you aside into the kitchen. her expression was serious, her voice low.
“are you really okay, y/n?” she asked, searching your face.
“i am,” you said, though you knew she wasn’t just asking about the physical injury.
“you and sana, what’s going on there?” jeongyeon asked bluntly.
you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “it’s complicated.”
“no kidding,” she said dryly. “but seriously, y/n. you’re getting in deep with her. are you ready for that?”
you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t know. it’s not like i planned for any of this to happen.”
“i get that,” jeongyeon said, her voice softening. “but just be careful, okay? she’s got a lot more power in this situation than you do.”
you nodded, appreciating the concern. “i know. but right now, i think she’s worth it.”
jeongyeon didn’t say anything more, but the look in her eyes said enough. she was worried for you, not just because of the obvious risks but because she knew how easy it was for someone like sana to break your heart — intentionally or not.
back in the living room, sana caught your eye and gave you a questioning look. you offered a reassuring smile and she immediately relaxed, resuming her conversation with tzuyu.
it was a small moment, but it meant everything in the context of your complicated relationship.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
by the fifth month of working for sana, your relationship had settled into an unexpected rhythm — one that was equal parts professional obligation and genuine attachment. there were still the usual challenges: sana’s diva moments, sudden mood swings and the pressure of keeping up with her unpredictable schedule. but there were also the quiet moments; late-night conversations on the balcony, her head resting on your shoulder as you both gazed at the city lights below.
meeting sana’s parents, however, was a different kind of challenge altogether. it was a sunny saturday afternoon when you were summoned to the minatozaki family estate, an opulent mansion that dwarfed even the luxury of sana’s usual residence.
the invitation was a surprise, but you had no choice but to accept, sana’s mother was adamant about meeting “the employee who’s lasted the longest.”
“relax,” sana whispered as you both stepped out of the car. she looked stunning in a pastel pink dress, her hair pulled back in an elegant bun. “they’re not as intimidating as they seem.”
you doubted that, but you nodded anyway, keeping your expression neutral. inside, you were a bundle of nerves.
the meeting, to your surprise, went better than expected. mr. and mrs. minatozaki were polite, even warm. they asked you a series of questions — mostly about your background, how you found the job and your experience working with their daughter. you answered truthfully, though you kept your personal feelings well-hidden.
“we appreciate your dedication, y/n,” mrs. minatozaki said with a smile. she was a poised woman, with a sharp gaze that seemed to see through people. “sana has never kept a bodyguard for this long. she must trust you a great deal.”
you felt a strange sense of pride at the comment, even as you maintained your composure. “thank you, ma’am. i’m just doing my job.”
“well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” mr. minatozaki added. “we’ve seen a positive change in sana since you started.”
sana blushed slightly at that, her usual confidence replaced with a hint of vulnerability. you couldn’t help but glance at her, and she caught your eye with a soft smile — one that was meant only for you.
later that night, sana gave you the rare gift of a night off. you returned to your apartment, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. the validation from sana’s parents was unexpected, and it lingered in your mind as you walked through the door.
jeongyeon, dahyun, mina, momo, and jihyo were all gathered in the living room, a mix of snacks and drinks spread out on the coffee table. it was meant to be a casual girls’ night, but you knew from their curious expressions that they were eager for more details.
“so, how’d it go?” jihyo asked, as soon as you stepped inside.
“with the parents?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you kicked off your shoes.
“yeah, obviously,” mina chimed in, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “we want to know everything.”
“it was fine,” you replied, plopping down on the couch beside momo. “they’re nice, surprisingly.”
“and?” momo prodded, grinning. “did they grill you? ask if you’re dating their daughter?”
“no,” you said quickly, though your cheeks felt warm. “it was just formal stuff…but i think they caught on.”
“boring,” mina teased, but her gaze was soft, clearly pleased that you hadn’t had a terrible time.
dahyun leaned forward, an amused glint in her eyes. “speaking of surprise meetings…did we tell you about how the heiresses showed up here last week?”
jihyo blinked, caught off guard. “wait, what? the four heiresses of the apocalypse?”
“oh yeah,” jeongyeon confirmed, laughing. “sana, tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon came by. apparently, sana was worried about y/n’s pretty face.”
“they even brought gifts,” dahyun added, still looking mildly astonished. “for all of us.”
mina’s eyes widened. “wait, sana came here? and brought gifts? the world really is ending.”
“and she was super protective of y/n,” jeongyeon continued, smirking. “held her hand the whole time and even kissed her forehead.”
“whoa,” momo said, her jaw dropping theatrically. “y/n, you’ve got it bad.”
“it’s not like that,” you protested weakly, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you.
jihyo crossed her arms, looking unconvinced. “sounds pretty serious to me.”
“serious or not,” mina interjected gently, “you seem happy, y/n. we’re just worried, you know? she’s…a lot. like, powerful.”
you sighed, grateful for their concern but also conflicted. “i know she is. but it’s complicated, my contract’s about to end.”
“extend it you goof,” dahyun giggled. “you get paid whilst dating your boss? sounds pretty sweet to me.”
“we’re not dating!”
“yet,” mina sighed.
“yeah, yeah,” you groaned, grabbing a handful of skittles and shoving them into your mouth. “whatever you say.”
as the evening went on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics — gossip about work, updates on personal lives and reminiscing about old times.
the final weeks of your contract approached quickly, and the impending end of your time with sana hung over both of you like a dark cloud. there were still stolen moments, secret kisses in the back of cars, whispered confessions late at night yet the tension was growing. you hadn’t told her about your decision yet, but she seemed to sense that something was off.
one afternoon, you found yourself sitting beside sana in the mansion’s garden, the autumn air cool and crisp. she was unusually quiet, a distant look in her eyes as she gazed at the small koi pond.
you often caught yourself watching her, memorising the way she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled when she teased you, or the way she absentmindedly reached for your hand when she thought no one was looking. it was getting harder to keep your feelings hidden, but you knew that admitting your love would make leaving even more painful.
“you know, i used to come here a lot when i was a kid,” she said suddenly, her voice soft and tinged with nostalgia. “back when things were simpler. my mother would bring me here after her meetings. she’d always tell me that the koi fish represented strength and resilience.”
you watched her as she spoke, the sadness in her voice palpable. it was rare for her to share such personal memories and you felt honoured, even as it added to the weight in your chest.
“and sometimes,” she continued, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips, “hana and misaki would sneak me sweets from the kitchen. they were always so kind to me, treating me like i was just one of their girls instead of…well, me.”
you tried to smile but your thoughts were elsewhere; focused on the fact that you didn’t belong in this world of koi ponds and lavish mansions. you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were simply a temporary fixture in her life.
“y/n?” sana’s voice broke through your thoughts, her tone laced with concern. “are you okay? you seem distant.”
you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “i’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”
she tilted her head, studying you with those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through your defenses. “is it about us?”
“i don’t know where i stand in your life,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “and i’m not sure i belong here.”
“of course you belong here,” she said instantly, her voice filled with an urgency that startled you. “you’re important to me, y/n. more than you think.”
you turned to look at her, searching for any hint of doubt in her eyes, but all you saw was sincerity. “how important?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m just your bodyguard.”
“you’re not just anything,” she insisted, reaching out to take your hand. “my love, you’ve become…so much more than that. you’re the person i look for in every room.”
her confession hit you hard, but instead of relief, it only deepened your internal conflict. “your life is too different from mine. you have everything — money, status, opportunities. i can’t compete with that, i have nothing to give.”
“i’m not asking you to compete,” she said, squeezing your hand tighter. “i’m asking you to stay.”
the raw vulnerability in her voice nearly broke your resolve. you wanted so desperately to say yes, to promise her a future that felt impossible. but the practical side of you, the side that had always been wary of hope — kept you grounded.
“it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice cracking. “what happens when i’m no longer part of this world? when your life goes on, and i’m just a memory?”
“i don’t want you to be a memory,” she said fiercely, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “i want you here. with me.”
the sincerity in her words shattered something inside you. it was everything you wanted to hear, but also everything that scared you the most.
“sana,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “i never meant to fall in love with you.”
your confession catches her off guard. “then why are you pushing me away?”
“because loving you feels too dangerous,” you admitted, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “i’m terrified of what will happen if i stay.”
“then let’s be terrified together,” she said, her own tears finally breaking free. “we don’t have to figure everything out right now. please don’t give up on us before we even start. i’m in love with you, i’ve been in love with you from the beginning.”
her plea hung in the air, desperate, as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. staying meant risking everything: your heart, your future, your sense of self.
in that moment, with her hand holding yours and her eyes full of hope, the idea of leaving felt even more unbearable.
you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet. instead, you squeezed her hand back, a silent acknowledgment of the love that had grown between you, even if it felt too fragile to last.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the decision not to renew your contract weighed on you like an impending storm. and as if to reinforce your decision, the universe seemed intent on reminding you of the vast gap between your reality and sana’s.
sana was used to being around the rich, the famous, and the powerful. her social circles included heirs, models, and celebrities — people who shared her lifestyle and effortlessly fit into her world.
you, on the other hand, often felt like an outsider peering in, a temporary presence among the permanent fixtures of her life.
one evening, at an exclusive charity gala, you found yourself in a large, glittering ballroom, filled with the one percent of the world. sana, dressed in a stunning emerald gown, was the center of attention as always.
standing beside her, you remained alert, your gaze trained on the crowd.
and then, there he was — one of sana’s suitors, a man who seemed perfectly tailored for her life. tall, impeccably dressed and oozing charisma, he approached with a confident smile.
“sana,” he greeted warmly, extending a hand. “it’s good to see you.”
“hello hiroshi,” she replied, her voice pleasant but distant. you noticed a flicker of discomfort in her eyes, but she masked it well.
hiroshi, the heir to a luxury conglomerate, was a familiar face at events like these. you’d heard whispers about him before; he was one of the many eligible bachelors rumoured to be pursuing sana.
“you look beautiful tonight,” hiroshi continued, his voice smooth.
“thank you,” she said politely, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. she glanced at you briefly, a silent reassurance that felt hollow amidst the glamour.
the evening dragged on, with more suitors and admirers approaching sana, each one embodying the wealth and prestige you couldn’t compete with. they all seemed so polished, so effortlessly at ease in her world.
every time she exchanged a polite smile or a charming laugh, you felt yourself pulling further away, retreating into your own insecurities.
then came the moment that felt like the final blow.
at another event a few weeks later, held at one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, you found yourself standing at a distance, watching sana from across the room. she was engaged in conversation with a group of old friends, including one you recognised immediately — her ex-boyfriend, jake.
he was a well-known musician, popular and adored by many. his easy charm and confident presence were evident as he chatted with sana, their laughter echoing above the hum of the party.
he was everything you weren’t — wealthy, famous, and someone who had once been deeply embedded in sana’s life.
the crowd seemed to love the idea of them together. cheers and playful shouts of encouragement rang out as someone raised a glass in their direction.
“come on, get back together!” someone yelled, and the room erupted in lighthearted agreement.
sana’s face flushed slightly, but she maintained her composure, laughing it off. “stop it,” she chided, her tone playful but firm.
you felt a sickening twist in your gut, watching her interact so effortlessly with jake. they looked good together.
you tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter, that it was just an old relationship, but seeing them together made you painfully aware of how small you felt in her world.
“what a couple, huh?” a staff member mumbled to you.
“yeah, i guess,” you turned away, unable to watch any longer.
it was a reminder of why you’d made your decision: you didn’t belong here. you were just a temporary part of her life, someone who would eventually be replaced by someone like jake or hiroshi — someone who fit in.
later that night, as you both drove back to her residence, sana seemed unusually quiet. you could sense that she had noticed your change in mood, but you weren’t ready to talk about it.
not yet.
“y/n my love,” she finally said as you reached her front door, her voice hesitant. “are you okay? you’ve been distant all night.”
“i’m fine,” you lied, avoiding her gaze. “just tired.”
“is it…about jake?” she asked, her tone soft, as if afraid of your answer.
you hesitated, then shook your head. “it’s not just him. it’s everything, sana. all of this — your world, the people in it. it’s too different from mine.”
“but i don’t care about that,” she insisted, stepping closer. “i care about you.”
“and that’s exactly why i have to leave,” you said, your voice breaking. “i don’t want to be the one who holds you back, the one who can’t match up to the life you deserve.”
“you’re not holding me back,” she protested, tears welling up in her eyes. “you’re the only real thing in my life.”
“but i’ll always be just the bodyguard,” you said, your heart shattering with every word. “and you’ll always be the heiress.”
“you’re more than that,” she pleaded, grabbing your arm. “can’t you see that?”
“i can’t,” you whispered, your voice filled with pain. “because this will never work, not in the way you want it to.”
she stared at you, her expression a mix of desperation and heartbreak. “so, that’s it? you’ve already made up your mind?”
“yes,” you admitted, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “i have.”
“so, when were you going to tell me?” she asked, voice cracking but her stare was cold.
“i was going to tell you,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible above the hum of the car engine. “i just didn’t know how.”
“didn’t know how?” she repeated, her tone turning sharp. “you were just going to disappear without even talking to me?”
“it’s not like that!”
“then what is it like?” she demanded, her eyes blazing with hurt and betrayal. “are you just like everyone else, y/n? were you using me this whole time?”
“no,” you said, feeling a surge of desperation. “you know that’s not true.”
“then why?” she asked, her voice breaking. “why are you leaving?”
“because i don’t belong in your world,” you said, your own voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “i’ve told you that over and over again.”
“i never cared about that,” she shouted, her face flushed with anger and tears. “i care about you, y/n. i’ve given you everything i have, and it still isn’t enough?”
“that’s not fair,” you shot back, feeling your own anger rise. “it’s not about what you’ve given me. it’s about what i can’t give you. you’ll always have to explain why you’re with someone like me.”
“i never asked you to be anything else!” she yelled, her voice breaking completely. “i just wanted you to stay.”
“and that’s what makes this so hard,” you said, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “i love you, sana. but loving you isn’t enough to make this work.”
the car pulled up to the mansion, but neither of you moved to get out. the driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror, unsure of what to do.
“get out,” sana said suddenly, her voice low but firm.
you hesitated, unsure if she meant it literally or figuratively. “sana —”
“get out,” she repeated, her voice rising. “we’re finishing this conversation inside.”
you both stepped out of the car, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. she stormed up the steps, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor and you followed, feeling the impending doom settle in your chest.
as soon as you were inside the mansion, the argument erupted again.
“you’re a coward,” she spat, her voice echoing through the grand hall. “you’re just running away because it’s easier than staying.”
“it’s not about running away,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “it’s about facing reality.”
“reality?” she laughed bitterly, her eyes wild with emotion. “the reality is that you’re too scared to take a chance on us.”
“because i know how this ends,” you said, your own voice rising now. “it ends with me being a burden in your life, a constant reminder of what doesn’t fit.”
“you’re not a burden!” she screamed, her face streaked with tears. “you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like me, not just the heiress, not just the brand.”
the sound of footsteps approaching caught both of your attention, and you turned to see mr. and mrs. minatozaki standing at the top of the grand staircase, looking shocked and concerned.
“what’s going on here?” mrs. minatozaki asked, her voice filled with alarm.
“stay out of this, mother,” sana said, her voice raw. “this is between me and y/n.”
“sana,” her father tried to interject, his voice gentle. “we can talk about this calmly —”
“there’s nothing to talk about,” she cut him off, her eyes fixed on you. “y/n wants to leave. she doesn’t think she belongs here.”
“because i don’t,” you said quietly, your voice filled with an agonising finality. “i’ll never be able to give you the life you deserve.”
“what i deserve?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “what i deserve is to be with someone who loves me enough to stay.”
“and what if that love isn’t enough?” you asked, your heart breaking as the words left your lips. “what if it only causes more pain?”
“then we face it together,” she said, her voice softening for the first time. “but you’ve already given up, you decided for us without even talking to me.”
the truth in her words was undeniable and it left you feeling exposed and helpless. you had given up; not because you didn’t love her, but because you were terrified of what loving her meant.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face.
her expression hardened again, a mix of anger, heartbreak and resignation. “sorry isn’t enough.”
“i know,” you said, your voice barely audible.
she stared at you for a long moment, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. then, with a coldness that felt like a final blow, she uttered the word that shattered everything between you.
“leave.”
“sana, please —”
“i said, leave,” she repeated, her voice empty now. “before i regret you.”
you didn’t move for a moment, unable to believe it was really ending like this but her eyes were dead serious and you knew there was no room for negotiation.
with a final look, you turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a nail in your heart. you could hear her sobs behind you, raw and uncontrollable, but you didn’t turn back.
it was for the better.
as the mansion doors closed behind you, the enormity of what you’d lost crashed over you like a wave. you had thought leaving would hurt less than staying, but now, as you stood on the steps of the life you could have had, you realised you had never been more wrong.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
it had been nearly two months since you left the minatozaki mansion, but the wounds felt as fresh as ever. you were still trying to move forward, but most days felt like you were just treading water, struggling to keep from sinking beneath the weight of your own heartbreak.
you had saved up enough money to pay for the next six months of rent and food, but there was no joy in the security it offered. it just felt like a countdown to more loneliness.
despite your efforts to stay away from news about sana, you couldn’t avoid the headlines completely.
she had been partying non-stop, her face appearing on every tabloid cover — smiling but empty-eyed, reckless but lost. there were photos of her stumbling out of clubs, surrounded by people who seemed more like shadows than friends. one image stood out in particular: sana, arm-in-arm with jake, her ex, looking disheveled and drained.
the caption suggested they were rekindling their romance, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it — or perhaps, you didn’t want to.
you tried to drown your sorrows in alcohol, spending most nights at a small bar nearby. it was dark and dingy, a stark contrast to the places you’d been with sana, but it felt fitting. the drinks were cheap, and the bartender never asked questions.
“are you okay?” jihyo asked one night when she found you slumped over your kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey beside you. her voice was full of worry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.
“no,” you admitted, your voice hollow. “i’m not.”
“this isn’t like you, y/n,” she said, her eyes filled with concern. “you’re not the type to just give up.”
“maybe i am now,” you replied, taking another swig from the bottle. “maybe i never should’ve tried in the first place.”
jihyo reached out, her hand squeezing yours. “we’re here for you, okay? no matter what.”
their support felt distant, muted by the constant ache of missing sana. you knew your friends were worried; how you barely ate, how you showed up to gatherings disheveled and silent, a shadow of who you used to be.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
a few days later, when you were nursing a hangover from another lonely night at the bar, your phone rang. it was an unknown number, and you hesitated before answering.
“hello?”
“y/n?” a familiar voice asked, tentative but warm. it was mrs. minatozaki.
“yes, this is y/n,” you confirmed, surprised. “mrs. minatozaki?”
“i’m sorry to call you like this,” she began gently. “but my husband and i were hoping you could come to the mansion. there’s something we need to discuss with you.”
you felt a wave of apprehension, unsure of what to expect. but something in her tone; soft, almost pleading — made it impossible for you to say no.
“i’ll be there,” you agreed quietly.
the mansion felt as imposing as ever when you arrived, its grandeur a stark reminder of the world you had tried to leave behind. you were greeted by the familiar staff, who offered polite smiles before leading you to a cozy sitting room. mrs. minatozaki was already seated on a velvet armchair, her husband standing beside her with a solemn expression.
“thank you for coming, y/n,” mrs. minatozaki said warmly, gesturing for you to sit. “we know this isn’t easy for you.”
“what’s going on?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “is it about sana?”
“yes,” mr. minatozaki replied, his tone serious but gentle. “she’s…not doing well. we’re very worried about her.”
“we thought she would eventually find a way to cope,” mrs. minatozaki added, her voice breaking slightly. “but it’s clear now that she’s just trying to numb the pain.”
you felt a stab of guilt, even though you knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. “i’m sorry,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to hurt her like this.”
“we know,” mr. minatozaki said softly. “and that’s why we wanted to talk to you.”
“sana has always been a passionate person,” mrs. minatozaki continued. “but she’s never loved anyone the way she loves you. we’ve seen her with past lovers — there was never this depth of feeling, never this kind of vulnerability.”
her words hit you hard, and you struggled to process them. “but i don’t fit into this world,” you said, your voice filled with insecurity. “i’m just —“
“and that’s exactly why we accept you,” mr. minatozaki said firmly. “you love our daughter for who she is, not for what she represents. we don’t care about the gossip or the opinions of others. we care about her happiness.”
“it’s true,” mrs. minatozaki added, her eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “we want you to know that you have our support completely.”
tears welled up in your eyes at their words, the acceptance and understanding you’d never thought you’d receive.
“thank you,” you whispered, overwhelmed. “i just…i don’t know if she’ll want me back.”
before they could respond, the sound of commotion erupted from the foyer. voices, urgent and alarmed, echoed through the mansion’s grand halls.
“what’s happening?” mrs. minatozaki asked, standing up abruptly.
a moment later, two security guards entered the room, struggling to support a barely-conscious sana. her makeup was smudged, her hair disheveled, and her eyes half-closed. she was clearly intoxicated, her legs barely able to hold her weight.
“sana!” mrs. minatozaki exclaimed, rushing over.
“we found her like this outside a club,” one of the guards explained apologetically. “she insisted on coming home.”
your heart broke at the sight of her, the reckless desperation evident in every inch of her being. without a second thought, you stepped forward.
“let me take care of her,” you said softly, moving to her side.
sana’s eyes fluttered open, but they were unfocused, clouded by alcohol and exhaustion. “y/n?” she slurred, her voice thick with confusion.
“it’s me,” you said gently, your hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “i’m here.”
“no, you’re not real,” she mumbled, her head lolling against your shoulder. “you’re just… another dream.”
“i’m real,” you insisted. “i promise, i’m real.”
her body went limp against you, and you struggled to support her weight. with help from the guards, you managed to get her upstairs and into her bedroom. she collapsed onto the bed, her breaths shallow and uneven.
you stayed by her side through the night, watching over her as she tossed and turned in her sleep. her face was flushed, her expression troubled even in unconsciousness. you couldn’t help but reach out, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her hand, hoping that somehow, your touch could offer her peace.
the next morning, sana stirred awake, her head pounding and her mouth dry. she squinted against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, her vision slowly focusing. when she saw you sitting beside the bed, her eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over her.
“y/n?” she asked, her voice hoarse and hesitant.
“hey,” you said softly, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her eyes. “how are you feeling?”
“like shit,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “but why…why are you here?”
“your parents called me,” you explained gently. “they were worried about you. i was worried too.”
sana’s eyes filled with tears, her shoulders shaking with the weight of everything she’d been holding back. “i thought i lost you,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “i thought you were really gone.”
“i thought i was gone too,” you admitted, your own tears falling. “but i realised that leaving you hurt more than anything else.”
“you’re not just saying that because my mother asked you to come, are you?” she asked, her vulnerability laid bare.
“no,” you said, reaching out to take her hand. “i’m saying it because i love you. and i want to be with you — no matter what.”
her lips trembled as she tried to hold back more tears. “i want that, too.”
you took a deep breath, feeling the fear and hope collide within you. “if you still want me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tremble in your heart. “i want to try again. for real this time.”
sana’s sobs turned into laughter, a mix of relief and disbelief. “of course i want you,” she said, reaching for your hand. “i’m sorry, i’ve always wanted you.”
you pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling her body relax against yours. she buried her face in your neck, her breath warm against your skin.
“i’m sorry, too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “for the photos, for being so reckless. none of it was true, i just wanted to forget.”
“i know,” you said, stroking her hair gently. “but we don’t have to forget. we just have to move forward.”
“together?” she asked, looking up at you with a mix of hope and fear.
“together,” you confirmed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
later that evening, as you lay tangled in each other’s arms, sana’s breathing slow and steady against your chest, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief. it wasn’t going to be easy but you were ready to face it.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the end.
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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months ago
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okay now i need mafia!könig as a dad and him enjoying his son so much that he fills you up with another😋😋
At least you have nannies and servants to help with his son. Little Paul is a menace even at his young age - and it doesn't help that his father seems to have grown feral as soon as he learned about the pregnancy. It's like a light switch was turned on - it's like everything he wished for, in the form of one small human and his mother. If you think your mafia husband was possessive before, never allowing you to leave his side without a few dozen bodyguards, some more hidden than the others, you knew nothing. It was already three or four months spent without going out for anything - and with servants tending to your son, you've grown bored. Pliant. Paul is breastfed mostly on your whim since you want at least something to do before chirping nannies will go flocking to take him to play. You can't even play with him without a couple of servants trying to get him out of your hands just so you could "rest and prepare yourself for his daddy". You hate having nothing to do - and you hate having Konig fawn over you like your body isn't covered in stretch marks and like remaining pregnancy hormones are not ready to choke him with your bare hands. Konig presses his face against your tummy, now empty - and he whispers how much he'd love to fill it up with his seed again. The doctor advised against having back-to-back pregnancies, judging by how big Paul was and how taxing it was on your body - but Konig just kisses you over and over again. Promises to get you the best medical treatment, whispering how it's fine, he can afford to have multiple children. How much he wants to give your son a baby sister to adore or a baby brother to take care of. You can't force Konig out when he is like this - your baby is in the other room, with his favorite nannies, and your husband is proving that with enough fucking per day, you just wouldn't have time for postpartum depression. Konig can't breed you quite right now, but he does everything in his power to make you remember how nice it was to be filled to the brim, and how much he wants to repeat it. The night always ends with you on your back, begging for his cock - and with him finally fucking you, treating your body like it's made of glass. You never thought that Konig would have such a soft spot for children, but he allows his son to crawl all over him when he gets older, and you have to physically remove baby from his arms or else Konig would just allow him to go to every criminal meeting - and you want to save his innocence for as long as possible. Until, at least, he is old enough to ask why mommy is never allowed outside.
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nixie-writes · 1 month ago
Text
Daughter of the Seven Deadly Sins
Lucifer
being the youngest of the Morningstar family was not easy. Your father, your current caretaker, was always holed up in his quarters, playing with toy ducks. He was a shell of his former self.
as his remaining daughter, you were treated like royalty, seeing as you were royalty. You had butlers, you had servants, you had the whole nine yards. However, you missed your older sister, Charlie. Your father hadn't even bothered to give you her number.
from a very young age you were coddled. You got everything you wanted, all of Hell was yours for the asking. One day Lucifer was strolling through Lu Lu World and he spotted the biggest duck plushie he'd ever seen as a prize for winning the hardest level of the game. Instead of actually playing though, he smacked some money on the table and motioned to the duck plushie and the clerk gave it to him. He knew it would be a wonderful birthday present.
life around the Morningstar manor was quite enjoyable. You got everything you wanted, you had servants and bodyguards watch your every move, it was the closest to Heaven you'd ever be.
Asmodeus
you were adopted as a baby by Oz and Fizz, and they adored you from the start. They bought you educational toys, stuffies, anything a beautiful baby girl could need.
as you grew older, you became more independent and Fizz feared you would go on a rebellious streak. Oz wasn't worried though, he knew how to put you in your place with a steady hand and proper punishment.
so the night you snuck out to one of Bee's parties and didn't come home until 3 in the morning, Oz banned you from Sinstagram and all other social media for a month, as well as a two month grounding from leaving the house to go anywhere. You thought it was unfair, and that showed Asmodeus that he was taking good care of you.
Beelzebub
your mother called you her wild card for a reason. You stayed out late, you hung out with boys you didn't know, you were a handful. Because Bee was the most unfit parent given her Sin, she got help from other demons.
Satan taught you respect, Belphegor taught you patience, etc. The other sins helped raise you, while giving Bee the room she needed to show herself as an active mother in your life.
don't worry, Vortex wasn't left out of the picture. He was much more stern to you than Bee was. He was willing to punish you, he didn't care about whatever tantrum you threw. But you loved him, he was strong and steady and had a firm hand in guiding you in the right direction.
Belphegor
Bel is usually just nodding off, either from her narcolepsy or because she was coming down off something. So you essentially did whatever the hell you wanted.
you lived a carefree life. You hung out with the wrong crowds, did the wrong things, etc. Like your mother you experimented with party drugs but you passed out and woke up in an empty parlor room. This was when you learned that drugs may be a bad idea.
it took a hard lesson to straighten you out. You snaked your way up to Satan late one night and tried to seduce him. Being an adult you could do that sort of thing. Instead of laying it on you he used his fear factor to shake out a little of your hubris. Sort of like the show Scared Straight.
Leviathan
like your mother, you were a two headed being. As such, you were the most popular kid in high school. Everyone wanted to be your friend, the nerds were helping with your homework and schoolwork, etc. However, you were the sort of girl to only hang out with the other Sins' daughters.
your mother always taught you to walk with purpose, how to have the girls begging for tips to be more like you, how to have boys clawing each other to get a chance to ask you out, though the answer was usually, if not always, a resounding no.
you were one of the most behaved daughters. No one had to worry about you coming home on time or who you were hanging out with. You were the model child, and the other daughters were, well, envious of this.
Mammon
you kept his accent but not much else. Mammon is a money hungry, gorging, sadistic asshole who expects his employees to be the commercial brand of fuckable. You were glad Glitz and Glam replaced Fizzarolli, he didn't seem happy doing the clown business anymore.
you were old enough to fend for yourself so he sent you off on your own. His robot Fizzarollies had practically raised you in his stead, so you had no issue making distance between yourself and him.
you had the top independent streak of the daughters. The others, both younger and older, looked up to you in respect for your lack of a father figure, and some wanted you to help them become independent like you.
Satan
you were a daddy's girl for sure. At only a human age of 6, you were innocent and sweet, the exact opposite of Satan. Despite that, he rocked a "#1 Dad" shirt when he had you with him in public. He didn't want any sick deviant thinking they could steal away with you and survive.
the other Sins and their daughters adored you, and how kind and sweet you are. Satan's therapist suggested he take a lesson from you and try to be more sweet, but it just wasn't in his blood. He was a Sin for God's sake, and he was the law, he couldn't coddle those who broke demon law.
regardless of that, he coddled you and made you sweeter than blueberry pie. You had horns like his but those of a female imp, of which he adored. He'd often hold your hand or carry you places. He was very protective of you and if you so much as tripped and scraped your knee he'd be screaming for paramedics.
though he knew you would develop a rebellious streak when you got older, he trusted that he raised you well enough to know what you should and shouldn't do, and he could only hope the best for you.
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