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bluenotes75 · 1 year ago

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Trust pt.2

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader x Miles Morales ! 1610

wc : 5,9k Warnings : angst, possessiveness, all characters are around 19 years old, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago, eventual love triangle ?, dramaaaa. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3 (coming soon)

Sorry, it took so long, the chapter just kept getting longer. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

You sighed as you closed the door of the store. It was already past midnight and you had just finished a long shift. Oddly, the store had been particularly active today and you couldn't catch any break. Now you sought one simple thing. To find the comfort of your bed.

You removed the key from the lock and frowned as a drop of water touched your skin. It was raining.

Wonderful.

You had no umbrella with you as you didn't anticipate the night to get rainy. Regretting your choice of clothes, you pressed your bag on top of your head to protect yourself from the rain. Your home was a bit far from the cornerstone you worked at and you knew you had to hurry up because the streets were not safe at night.

As you headed toward your apartment, your thought deviated toward him.

It had been one month. Four weeks since everything fell apart.

At least, to you.

Twenty-eight days since you broke up with Miles Morales. Six hundred and seventy-two hours since he betrayed you and you liked to think that you had moved on. It was the easiest way to go through your days.

And if your heart ached each time you found his clothes in your closet or if you woke up in the middle of the night to noises on your window thinking it was him, you denied it.

The pain that you felt that night was unmatched. It was still fresh, rooted deep in your memories. But with time, you discovered it was nothing next to the pain of leaving without Miles. He wasn't there physically, yet he occupied each ounce of your mind.

Contrary to what you could believe, Miles wasn't any better. You were on his mind, 24/7.

He regretted. He regretted considerably. He had made the worst mistake of his life and just like that, you slipped through his fingers.

You were his world. His universe. He missed your presence. He missed holding you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your skin, tickling the curve of your hip, caressing the softness of your skin with his lips and seeing the deepness of your loving gaze when you looked up at him. He missed everything about you and he refused to let you go.

And this became the hardest part for you. Miles had tried to get you back.

Countless time.

Because even if your mind was screaming no, your heart was still weak for the boy. And he knew it.

He hadn't stopped texting you in the weeks following your break up. He had asked for forgiveness so many times you couldn't even count it. When you blocked him on every social media, he directly came to your house. He would knock on your window at late hours like he always did.

You would leave him outside.

After some time, he finally decided to give you some space but you could still feel his presence from afar. You could feel his stare on your back sometimes as you came back from work. You knew he was still making sure you were safe. Sometimes, you find to notes from him on your window.

You didn't read them.

You had thought of taking him back. On your lowest nights, you had thought that maybe it was for the best. You felt nothing without him. Even if the relationship brought your more strain than anything else, it was at least something. It was toxic but addicting. It made you cry at night but it made you feel high on other days. The only thing stopping you from going back was that little doubt ticking in the back of your brain.

What if he did it again?

But if there was one thing you knew, is that you were faithful to yourself. You were too afraid to put yourself through that process again if he was to mess up again. He had already broken you once, had left you miserable and you had suffered too much to trust him again.

So with time, you learned to let go. You had finally gotten used to living without him. Each day you were forgetting him more and more and you felt like yourself once again. And while your heart was still tied to his in a way, you knew you could live peacefully now.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by a noise behind you, yet you didn't give it a second thought. However, when you heard again, this time followed by irregular steps against the wet concrete, you frowned.

You peeked behind your shoulder and noticed a man, both taller and broader, dressed in a black hoodie. You couldn't see his face.

Your heartbeat picked up.

You accelerated, hoping that you were worrying for nothing, but that hope was soon crushed when the steps also became faster. Before you could think of a way to get yourself out of this situation, a hand covered your mouth and you were dragged into an alley.

It was dark and you could barely see anything as you fought back against the broad body that manhandled you against the wall.

''What pretty girl like you doing outside at such an hour.''

He whispered, his breath reeking of booze. He pressed his body against yours and travelled his hands on your back. Your cheeks pressed hard against the rugged brick wall, you felt tears burn the brim of your eyes as you realized what was about to happen.

''N-no! Please don't''

''Shut up bitch, you want it. You wouldn't be walking alone at such hours if not,'' he laughed in your ears.

''Nah, I think her no was clear enough.''

You jerked at the new voice and soon, the hands holding you against the wall disappeared. You turned around panicked, gasping as the man who was once all over you, now laying on the ground, holding his bruised cheek. Another guy dressed in a red suit stood over him.

''I hate assholes like you-'' the newcomer shot a string of web to tie up the man against the wall ? ''who think they can do whatever they want.''

You rubbed your eyes to make sure you saw well. Web ?

''Don't touch women again, got it ?''

The man nodded quickly, eyes widened in fear before the guy in red sent another punch, knocking him out for good.

You stood there, back against the wall, frozen. You had never heard of a guy in red playing the hero in Brooklyn.

New-york was filled with villains. You just hoped to fall on the nicest one.

As if reading your thoughts, the guy in red walked toward you.

''Hey, are you fine? I'm sorry this happened !''

He stopped in his track when you flinched.

''Look, I don't want you any harm,'' he raised his arms in the air as proof. ''Can I...come closer ?''

You nodded slowly, still speechless, and he did so. From closer, he was towering over you and you had to raise your head to properly look at him.

Just like with your ex.

You frowned, feeling stupid for thinking of the guy in such a situation and finally spoke.

''Thank you."

You watched as he smiled through his mask.

''Of course,'' he raised his hand before stopping abruptly. ''Can I touch you ?''

You nodded and he held your chin, angling it to the side and checking your cheek.

''Good he didn't hurt you,'' he then took in your appearance. You were completely wet because of the rain and you had started shivering. He removed the coat he was wearing and wrapped it around your shoulders. ''Here.''

A million thoughts crossed your mind, yet you only cared about one.

The coat smelled like Miles.

You shook your head, feeling stupid again. Were you so obsessed that you imagined your ex everywhere now? You really needed some sleep.

But you didn't want to walk home alone.

''I'll bring you home,'' the boy announced before wrapping his arms around your hips. ''Hold onto me tight.''

You did as he said, confused about why but soon understood when he brought you both in the air.

''Oh god !''

You closed your eyes not daring to look down.

''I know,'' he laughed near your ear and you couldn't ignore the shivers that crossed your body at the familiarity of his voice.

In less than ten minutes, you were home after telling him the way.

''Thank you for this,'' you smiled shyly and handed him back his coat.

''Of course! ''

You looked at him and you just couldn't get rid of this picture of Miles.

''Who are you ?''

You were shocked at your own question, the word escaping your mouth before you could stop yourself.

''Oh, I'm Spiderman," the guy said and you could hear the proudness in his voice.

''No, like who are you really?'' You slid your hands down his shoulders and his arms. It was a posture you knew too well. You could recognize that body in a million. ''Miles ?''

''W-what''

You grabbed the end of his mask and to your surprise, he didn't stop you. You raised it until it revealed his face.

A gasp escaped you as you saw Miles but....he didn't have braids. You studied him carefully. Same lips, same nose, same cheekbones, you almost got fooled. But when you made eye contact with him, you saw it.

It wasn't your ex.

His eyes weren't the same. Your ex had this hardened stare. A gaze built by the wall he created around himself. People said eyes were the mirror of the soul but you couldn't read anything through them.

This guy in front however had....innocence painted all over his eyes. His stare was soft, warm and solacing.

''You aren't Miles, who are you ?''

The guy took a step forward, hope in his eyes. You stepped back.

''You know Miles Morales ?''

You shook your head freaked out by the situation and took another step back.

''Get out.''

The taller widened his eyes.

''No, no please listen to me first.''

Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was because he looked like Miles, you didn't know. But you didn't have the heart to chase him away one more time.

''You have five minutes.''

"So you're telling me that you are a hero from another earth that is exactly like mine and you saved people you weren't supposed to so a hoard of spidermans is following you and you need to go back to your earth to save your dad."

Miles nodded eagerly.

"I know it sounds crazy but yeah…that's pretty much it.''

''Damn,'' you breathed, letting the information sink in. ''And you need me for..?''

''To find a way back home.''

The boy stared at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head.

''Look, I don't think I can help you with that.''

His face dropped and he clasped your smaller hands in his calloused ones.

''Nonono, please! You are the only one I could find and you seem to already know Miles Morales from here. You know how I need to act to stay unnoticed.''

You thought about his words. It made sense, but you didn't want to get involved in all that mess.

"I really don't know."

"Please !"

You wondered for a few more seconds. How where you supposed to refuse when he was looking at you pleadingly?

''Alright.''

His facial features broke into a grin and he pulled on your arm, making you collide against his chest.

''Thank you !''

You could only widen your eyes as you felt his arms tighten around you. You hadn't expected this sudden affection. Dumbstruck, you failed to return the gesture until he froze and leaned back, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

''Sorry, I got too excited…'' he looked away, your stare becoming too intense for him.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. The Miles you knew was so cold so this new Miles with such a…bubbly personality was interesting.

You couldn't help but think it was sweet…and very cute.

''It's fine.''

He seemed satisfied with your reaction as he joined you before your laughers died down.

''Uh, I might have sum else to ask.''

You hummed.

''I kinda need a place to stay.''

Miles towered over you, holding bedsheets, while you hugged a pillow to your chest.

''So how are we going to do this ?''

You two made eye contact before glancing at the bed again. Suddenly, the boy dropped the fabric on the floor and rose his hand next to his chest.

''I'll sleep on the ground, it's fin-''

''no, you don-''

''Yes, I do. I'm the guy and the guest, so sleep on the bed and I'll-''

''Just lay down, I don't mind.''

You slid under the covers not waiting for his reaction and soon, you heard the mattress dip toward his side. He was careful to let some space between you.

You rose the fabric over both of your bodies and sighed. This was a long day and you were honey tired. You tried to get some sleep but you could feel starring eyes burning your skin.

''What is it ?'' you whispered with your eyes still closed.

You heard the rub of covers before Miles cleared his throat.

''Nothing, nothing.''

Then the mattress bent again and you assumed he turned the other way.

''Oh, by the way. My mom can't know you are here. So you know…be discreet.''

You didn't want to have to explain to her what Miles, your ex - even if it's not really him - was doing in your room at such an hour.

''Don,t worry, I'm discreet.''

The next afternoon, you found yourself in the library. It was far from your apartment and your school, which reduced the chance of running into an unrequired acquaintance.

''Look at this, doesn't it look interesting ?''

You extended a book about something called 'The Super-Collider'.

''That's basically a particle collider right ?'' You added as Miles grabbed the heavy textbook.

The taller boy nodded, peeking at the back cover.

''Yes, it uses electromagnetic fields to speed up charged particles. And-

''Eventually, pull or join different objects coming from different dimensions,'' you finished, scratching your chin as you wondered about something. You didn't notice Miles' amazed expression.

''You know what it is ?''

You looked at him as if he was crazy.

''Of course, didn't you watch The Flash ?''

His excitation vanished and you received silence as an answer.

''I'm joking, I'm just really interested in physics,'' you said pivoting back to the bookshelf and searching for another work that could be useful.

''Oh...I didn't know that. I wanna study in that field later.''

Your widened eyes shifted back to him.

''What, you literally hate phys-'' you stopped as remembered who you were with and you shook your head embarrassed. ''Nevermind.....It's nice to have someone who likes it like me.''

You couldn't help the thrill that invaded you. Your ex would always joke about your interests in physics and eventually, you stopped talking about it. So seeing this new Miles show interest brought a certain warm feeling to your stomach. You didn't know what it was, but the longer you were with the boy, the more interesting you found him. You had found a special chemistry with him and it's like you two had always been friends.

You liked that sensation.

''I was wondering, are particle accelerators the reason why you are here ?"

The taller twisted his mouth to the side.

''Uh...not really? It's part of the reason though. Some type of butterfly effect,'' he finished as you opened another book. You simply hummed not pushing too much on the object. It didn't look like he wanted to talk much about it.

''I think we have enough for now. Let's buy them !''

You gazed at the raindrops interrupting the peaceful reflection of your face on the blurry window. It was particularly cold today, gray clouds snatching the sunrays from the city while its people ran down the streets to cover themselves from the water. To you, the scenery was simply gloomy.

A usual rainy day in Brooklyn.

You jumped as the doorbell of the store rang, pulling you out of your train of thought. You relaxed after realizing it was only a client. You were only 3 in the shop. You being the cashier, the man who had just crossed the door and Miles hanging upside down next to you while playing a ball.

''What's up with you? You've been daydreaming since morning.''

It had been 3 weeks since this Miles arrived from Earth 1610 and you had nearly spent all of your time with him.

Well, it's not as if you had a choice since he lived in your apartment, but it didn't change the you two had gotten extremely close. You were hanging out every day. One time at the coffee shop and another time watching a movie while trying hairstyles on his hair. Just like yesterday.

You couldn't deny your attachment that had grown for him. Hell, just thinking about him made your heart flutter and you would find yourself stuck with a stupid grin on your lips.

At first, you kept comparing him with your ex. His accent, his gesture, what he liked and what he disliked. He didn't speak as much Spanish, he wasn't as mysterious and cold. But as time passed, you found yourself more and more drawn by this new Miles. He was more expressive, affectionate, supportive and careful with you. He knew how to make you laugh no matter the situation and you two shared multiple interests.

You weren't oblivious. You quickly understood that the boy was slowly stealing your heart. But that doesn't mean you were ready for it.

You were used to feeling love with pain. To push and pull kind of relationship. To toxic and aggressive feelings. To spend the night worrying about your lover and only to find him bleeding the next day. To cry alone at night then drown your sadness in your boyfriend's arms for a few minutes before you had to separate again to go to school.

But with Mile Morales, everything was different. It was sweet, warm and solacing. He was always next to you at night and he was careful with you in daylight. You felt protected and you weren't sleeping next to a criminal anymore.

This was so different, but you liked it.

''I just didn't get much sleep last night.''

The taller jumped back to his feet before getting closer to you. He looked at your face carefully, worry painted all over his own features.

''I shouldn't have kept you up all night, sorry.''

You looked up at him with a chuckle before flicking his forehead softly.

''No, it was funny. You looked really cute with those coloured rubber bands in those cornrows I did,'' you teased, facing him.

He frowned before a tiny pout took over his mouth. It was nearly imperceptible but it was there.

''I looked like a kid. How am I supposed to be big and scary with that in my hair.''

You burst out laughing, the memory from last night coming back to you. You had told him you would braid his hair since he wanted to try something new but he ended up removing them because 'they were too tight, and his scalp was too soft for all that'. You knew he just wanted to remove the rubber bands.

''I'm still mad at you for destrpying my beautiful work.''

He smirked getting closer, reducing the space between you two.

''Don't be upset tesoro, what will I do if you are mad at me ?''

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, like it had done for the past weeks, and you looked away, to hide your shy smile. However, before you could answer, you heard a gun cocking right in front of you.

You slowly looked up, to find a riffle pointed right to your face. Your heart dropped as you failed to understand whatever the client from earlier was screaming.

''Open the cash register and gimme the bills,'' when he noticed your lack of reaction, he brought the gun closer to your forehead. ''Hurry the fuck up !''

However, before the stranger could try anything else, the gun was knocked out of his hands and his arms were joined together by web.

Everything passed in a flash and Miles quickly neutralize him and called the police. And if he gave a few unnecessary punches to the man, as he was already tied up, you didn't mention it. It was Miles' way to get back at the man and make him regret pointing his gun at you.

Before you could even realize what happened, the boy was in front of you, holding you tight by the elbow, checking up on you for the second time in less than 10 minutes.

''How are you feeling,'' he whispered, his low voice vibrating in your ear.

''G-good.''

Your voice left you like a whisper, still shaken by the event.

You had encountered multiple... ominous situations in this city. But being held at gunpoint and knowing your life was in the hands of a stranger was different. You realized how lucky you were to have Miles at your side at this exact moment and your eyes watered.

The boy read right through the facade you were trying to keep up, as he noticed your shivering and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, dragging you against himself.

''Come here precious.''

You tightened your hands around the low of his back, losing yourself in the warmness and the comfort of his embrace. You felt safe and the panic was slowly soothed away from you.

''Feeling better ?''

You nodded, slowly, face still hidden nestled in the crook of his neck.

''How come there's so much crime in this city,'' he sighed, caressing the back of your neck to bring you more comfort.

''We don't have Spiderman here, you know,'' you muttered, finally finding the energy to spill some words.

Your words were muffled by his skin and you felt him shiver at the sensation of your lips against his neck.

''Right.''

You expected him to laugh at your words so you looked up at him, frown plastered on your face.

''Are you mad ?''

His expression softened when he noticed you scowl and he shook his head.

''No,'' he rested his chin on top of your head. ''I just don't like the idea of you living all these years without anyone to protect you.''

You ignored the butterflies that invaded your stomach as his sentence, your lips growing into a grin against the crook of his neck.

''I'm not a damsel in distress.''

Miles only hummed, not letting go of you.

''Yeah, if you say so, preciosa.''

Everything was going perfectly. You and Miles were slowly finding more clues on how to send him back to Earth 1610 and by then, old Miles was already far in your memory.

You couldn't but wonder how unusual that was. You weren't used to just living peacefully. There was always something going on.

And you weren't wrong to feel so suspicious.

You were walking down the street as it was getting darker outside.

Again.

You had to stay a few more hours at school to finish a group project and you hadn't realized how much time had passed. You cursed under your breath, remembering what happened the last time you found yourself walking for such an hour outside.

Not wanting to get in such a situation again, you accelerated until you arrived on the street where you live. You sighed, relieved, but before you could take your keys, a large hand caught your elbow, dragging you into the alley behind your apartment. You were pinned against the bricked wall and clenched your eyes shut, groaning at the impact.

What's with the people of this city and walls? Damn.

However, when you glanced at whoever seized you so brutally, your heart sank. You had completely forgotten about him and you had never expected him to come back.

''Miles.''

Your ex smirked staring up and down at your silhouette before licking his lips. A shiver travelled down your body at his action.

''Happy to see me mami ?''

You two made eye contact and you were hauled. His gaze was still as piercing as you remembered and it brought back unwanted memories. However, you suddenly blinked, waking up from your stupor and averted your eyes from the imposing male. Your expression turned sour and you tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

''Leave me alone, Morales.''

He chuckled, taking a step forward to reduce the space between both of your bodies.

''So that's what we are doing now ?''

You kept your lips sealed and turned your head to the side as an answer. However, his fingers slid behind your neck, using his thumb to shift your head back to him.

''Look at me when I talk to you.''

''What do you want ?''

He rose his eyebrow at the dryness of your tone, still not used to such an attitude from you.

''I don't need a reason to see yah princesa.''

''I don't have time for this, move.''

Miles clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening at your words.

''Watch your tone.''

''Or what ?'' you raised your eyebrow at him with a bored expression. Two months ago, you would have never talked to him like that. But right now, you couldn't care less. You wanted to go home, take a shower and cuddle with your Miles. You were too tired for all that.

Your ex-boyfriend visibly took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself down. You could see the frustration growing in him. But you didn't expect what he would say next.

''Who's that guy you've been hanging out with lately ?''

You froze at the question.

''What the- have you been following me ?''

''I asked you a question,'' Miles repeated louder this time.

''It's none of your business.''

''I'm being nice and you don't wanna try me. I don't like you talking to other guys and you know that.''

You scoffed at his nerve. Why was he acting like you were his or something?

''What part don't you understand in 'we're done' ?''

He took a deep breath and pinched his nose.

''Look, I fucked up mami. Lo sé and I hate myself for it. But I let you have some space for two months already, te necesito.''

''Miles, I don't love you anymore.''

He froze for a second but you could see him gulp slowly.

''I know you, stop playing hard to get.''

You rested your hand against your forehead tired of this situation already.

''Are you being serious ?'' he asked again in disbelief.

But instead of answering, you pushed him back and this time, he didn't resist.

''I'm leaving.''

''Where do you think you are going ?''

''Hopefully to my new boyfriend,'' you answered. Being honest was probably the only way to force him away from you.

''You don't want to do this,'' he said darkly. He clenched his jaw and rubbed his hand on his chin. You had never seen him so mad. ''I'm warning you.''

You shook your head with a sigh before ignoring him and entering your apartment. You knew he was saying empty words. Your ex would never dare to hurt you directly. He could cheat, and lie but never harm you intentionally.

That's what you thought at least.

Arriving in your room, you find your new Miles sitting at your desk, sketching something on a sheet.

''Preciosa, you are finally here.''

You nodded with a tired smile.

''You're not sleeping yet ?''

He shook his head, leaning back on the chair and spreading his leg to be more comfortable. ''Nah, was waiting for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his position before throwing a shoe at him that he easily caught with one hand.

''Stop the manspreading in my room.''

He laughed before telling you to come closer. You obeyed and your eyes fell on the drawing he was making.

It was you.

And it was you in a way you had never seen before. You looked...magnificent.

Your breath got stuck in your throat and couldn't help but wonder if that's how the boy saw you.

All the stress you got from meeting your ex evaporated from your body as you sat on Miles' thighs and one of his hands rested on yours.

''It's beautiful.''

He hummed. ''When the muse is already gorgeous, it makes everything easier.''

Your heart jumped at the compliment and you pressed your head against his, running your thumb down his cheek as he kept drawing.

''Careful, you'll make my fro flat,'' the boy muttered, still focused on his sketch.

''I'll brush it out for you later,'' you giggled, continuing your ministration on his face.

A few more seconds passed and only the soft sound of a pencil running on paper filled the silence surrounding you. All until the boy broke the ice.

''I've always wanted to ask but...what's your relationship with Miles from here ?''

You gulped at this sudden question. Did he saw...what happened outside?

''Why you wanna know that ?''

Noticing your defensive reaction, he shook his head softly.

''Hey, I'm not forcing you to tell me, I was just wondering since you know...he never tried to contact you since I arrived. I kind of assumed you two were close since you recognized me in my suit. ''

You relaxed at his explanation.

''Oh, uh we were friends, but we had an argument and haven't really talked since.''

You didn't want to think about the guy anymore and ruin this wonderful moment. You hoped your Miles wouldn't mind the white lie you had just spitted out.

Hopefully, the taller didn't seem to question you more and quickly changed the conversation.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with your ex and everything was going better than ever. Your mom had just left for a trip and the house was left to you and Miles. You woke up to the sound of the plate coming from the kitchen.

Loud sounds.

When you arrived in the living room, you found Miles throwing water in a pan which contained burning eggs. Your mouth dropped.

''What are you doing ?''

He jumped at the sound of your voice before placing his hand on his chest right over his heart.

''Shit, don't scare me like that.'' He then looked at the mess he had created and scratched the back of his neck. ''Uh...I was trying to make breakfast.''

You looked at him, still devoid of words before bursting out laughing.

''And you managed to burn eggs? How do you even burn eggs ?''

You shook your head taking the pan out of his and putting it in the sink.

''What I am going to do with your Miles.''

He pouted following closely behind you like a lost puppy.

''It's the meaning that matters ?''

You glared at him before seeing the opened bag of flour next to you. You smirked before grabbing some and throwing it in his face.

''Hey !''

He retaliated by taking the closest thing to him, which was a raw egg and throwing it on your shirt.

A gasp was heard.

''You did not just do that.''

''Oh, I did. ''

Soon, it turned into a food war, and your enjoyment could be heard by the mix of yells and laughers coming from the kitchen. Out of nowhere, Miles caught the back of your thighs and sat you on the table, before resting between your legs.

''Caught you.''

You laughed gaily, before getting closer to his face with a raised eyebrow.

''What do you want champion? A kiss as a price ?''

Yet, instead of joking back as you expected, the boy only gulped. That's when you noticed the small space separating both of your faces.

You liked your lips, anxious at his silence and his eyes followed your tongue before slowly travelling back to your nose and your eyelashes. He then closed his eye and shook his head to compose himself.

''The stuff you make me think, preciosa.''

Your mouth dried out at his words and you bit your lips.

''Like what ?''

''I can't say it.''

He averted his eyes from you once again but you stopped him before he could lean away.

''Then show me,'' you whispered.

He widened his eyes as his breath brushed against your lips. You saw as he tried to hold himself back but the intense burning in his eyes showed you that he wanted exactly what you wanted.

''Fuck it.''

He leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours and you automatically responded, sighing in delight.

Finally.

Your lips moved in synchronization and you felt euphoric. After a few seconds, he leaned away, his dark eyes travelling onto your face as if he wanted to capture to moment and carve it in his mind forever.

''You don't know how much I've wanted this."

''Me too,'' you whispered before your mouths found each other again.

You kissed and kissed. For how long, you didn't know. But all you knew is that it felt too good and it only felt like a few seconds before you separated again.

Miles licked his lips and let out a breath.

''That was -wow.''

''Yeah...'' you whispered trying to catch your breath, a bit dazzled by what had just happened.

''I made you this breathless already,'' he laughed before you punched him on the shoulder.

''Shut up !''

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

''I would love to kiss you more, but I think we need to clean this up first.''

You followed his eyes and noticed the mess you two had created.

''Yeah...''

He carried you back on the floor and you two got to work. Eventually, you realized you needed more cleaning products and you went to the store while he continued cleaning.

On the way, you kept touching your lower lip with a stupid smile stuck on your face. Miles made you feel all sorts of things and infatuation was the main one. You were already excited to get back home and continue the unfinished business.

The trip to get more cleaning products was fast and soon, you were back at your apartment.

But bliss goes away as fast as it comes, doesn't it ?

When you opened the door to your apartment to find that the living room was a mess.

But not the mess you had left in the kitchen.

A people having a physical fight kind of a mess. The armchair was knocked down, the table was broken and the pillows were ripped.

''Miles ?'' you yelled but received no answer.

Your heart raced as you rushed to look in the different rooms of your home, but there wasn't any living soul.

What the heck was happening?

When you arrived in your room, there was still no one.

But as you were going back to the kitchen, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on your window.

Exactly like the one your ex used to leave.

From afar, you could even recognize his writing. You snatched it and for the first time, you decided to read it.

Your heart sank at the words.

''I warned you.''

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dee-writes-smut · 5 months ago

Text

RHODODENDRONS (Chapter Eight)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY Lucien has found a healer whom he knows well enough to wake in the middle of the night. After ushering you in, you start to realize with a startling clarity that your baby is in much more danger than you had originally anticipated.

CONTENT WARNINGS depictions of labor, pain, and infant dangers, birth dangers (nuchal cord), Eris and Lucien being super sweet, don't worry there's some fluff at the end :)

AUTHORS NOTE I know a lot of you might be angry with me for not having Eris grovel, but because the situation is so dire, I decided that I was going to hold off on that until the next chapter. Don't you worry, he will be on his knees here pretty soon ;)

SERIES MASTERLIST

They turned a corner, the alleyway where you had been left in agony now coming into view. The sight of you on the ground, pale and trembling, sent a jolt of terror through Eris. He could see the blood, the pain etched on your face, and his resolve hardened.

Lucien slowed his pace, his face pale with worry as they approached. "We need to get her to a healer, now."

Eris dropped to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch your face. "I’m here," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I’m here, and I won’t leave you."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of pain and relief. "Eris… it hurts…"

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know, love. We’re going to get you help. Just hold on a little longer."

Lucien stood nearby, his eyes darting around the alley as if he could will a healer to appear. "Eris, we need to move her. We can’t stay here."

Eris nodded, his mind racing. He lifted you as gently as he could, his heart breaking at your pained whimper. "Stay with me," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. "We’re going to get through this."

Lucien led the way, his voice urgent as he spoke to Eris. "There’s a healer not far from here. We need to hurry."

Eris carried you, every step filled with determination and fear. He glanced at Lucien, a question burning in his eyes. "Lucien, do you… do you know why she’s here? Why she came to the Autumn Court?"

Lucien shook his head, his face a mask of worry. "No, she never told me. I assumed she was with you."

Eris’s heart clenched at the misunderstanding. There was so much Lucien didn’t know, so much he had to explain, but now was not the time. "We need to get her to safety first," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

As they approached the healer’s door, Lucien banged on it urgently, shouting for help. Eris held you close, his mind filled with thoughts of the future, of the promises he had made. He couldn’t lose you, not now, not ever.

The door swung open, and the healer took one look at you before ushering them inside. Eris laid you gently on the bed, his hand never leaving yours. "Stay with me," he whispered again, his voice breaking. "I love you, and I’m here."

As the healer worked, Eris stood by your side, his heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. He looked at Lucien, a silent plea in his eyes. There would be time for explanations, for truths to be revealed. But for now, all that mattered was you and the life they were about to bring into the world.

Eris vowed that he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, to be the man you needed him to be. And as he held your hand, he prayed that it wouldn’t be too late.

The moment Eris finally came to your side, a surge of relief and fear washed over you. His touch, warm and reassuring, anchored you amidst the whirlwind of pain and uncertainty. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt, the fear for your child gnawing at your insides. The agony of labor had already taken its toll, but the sight of Eris beside you brought a flicker of hope.

As Eris and Lucien carried you to the healer’s door, every jolt and bump sent waves of pain crashing through you. You held on to Eris, your eyes locking with his, the fear evident in your gaze. “It hurts so much,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your contractions.

“We’re almost there,” Eris murmured, his voice a soothing balm despite the urgency in his eyes. “Just hold on a little longer.”

The healer's door opened, and you were ushered inside. The room was dimly lit, the scent of herbs and antiseptics hanging in the air. The healer, a woman with kind eyes and steady hands, quickly assessed the situation.

“Get her on the bed,” she instructed, her voice calm but firm.

Eris gently laid you down, his hand never leaving yours. The healer examined you, her brow furrowing with concern. “The baby’s in distress,” she said, her tone serious. “The umbilical cord is wrapped around its neck.”

Panic surged through you, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, please,” you gasped, tears streaming down your face. “Save my baby.”

The healer nodded, her hands moving with practiced efficiency. “I need you to push, but carefully. We need to get the baby out quickly.”

The pain was unbearable, every contraction a wave of agony that left you breathless. You gritted your teeth, pushing with all your strength, Eris’s voice a constant presence in your ear, urging you on. “You’re doing great,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “Just a little more.”

But the baby wasn’t moving. The healer’s expression grew more concerned, her hands working frantically. “The baby is stuck,” she said, her voice tense. “We need to act fast.”

Fear clawed at you, the thought of losing your child unbearable. “Please, do something,” you begged, your voice a desperate plea.

The healer nodded, her hands moving with a renewed urgency. She turned to Eris and Lucien. “I need you both to help me. Hold her steady and keep her calm.”

Eris moved to your side, his hands gripping yours tightly. “I’m here,” he said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “We’re going to get through this.”

Lucien stood on your other side, his presence a surprising comfort. “You’re strong,” he said, his voice gentle. “You can do this.”

You pushed again, the pain overwhelming, but the healer’s hands were sure and steady. She manipulated the baby, her movements precise. “One more big push,” she instructed. “This is it.”

With a final, agonizing effort, you pushed with all your might. The room seemed to blur, the pain and fear merging into one intense sensation. Then, suddenly, there was a cry – a loud, piercing wail that filled the room.

The healer lifted the baby, her expression one of relief. “It’s a girl,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “And she’s healthy.”

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your face as the healer placed the tiny, squirming bundle in your arms. You looked at Eris, his eyes filled with love and awe, and then at Lucien, who stood back, a mixture of emotions playing across his face.

Eris leaned down, his forehead touching yours. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “She’s here, and she’s perfect.”

You looked down at your daughter, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours, and felt a surge of love so powerful it took your breath away. The fear and pain melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of completeness.

The pain and fear had been worth it. Your daughter was here, and she was safe. And as you looked into her tiny, bright eyes, you knew that you would do anything to protect her and give her the best life possible.

As you held your newborn daughter in your arms, a sense of peace settled over the room. Her tiny fingers wrapped around yours, and her eyes, a vivid mix of green and amber, looked up at you with curiosity. You glanced up at Eris, who was kneeling beside you, his gaze filled with pride and love.

Lucien, standing a bit further back, took a step closer. He had been quietly supportive throughout the ordeal, but now his eyes were locked on the baby. A frown creased his forehead, and he leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he studied the child’s features more closely.

Your daughter yawned, her small face scrunching up in a way that was unmistakably familiar. Lucien’s breath hitched as realization dawned on him. The resemblance was uncanny – her eyes, the shape of her nose, the hint of a reddish tint in her hair.

“Wait,” Lucien murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Her eyes… they’re… she looks like…” His words trailed off, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. He looked at you, then at Eris, searching for answers.

You turned to face him, your heart heavy with the truth that you had kept hidden for so long. “Lucien,” you began, your voice trembling. “I need to tell you something.”

Lucien shook his head, taking a step back. “No,” he said, his voice breaking. “This can’t be. Eris, tell me it isn’t true. Tell me she’s yours.”

Eris looked away, his jaw clenched, a mix of pain and resignation in his eyes. “She’s not mine, Lucien,” he said quietly. “She’s yours.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation hanging heavy in the air. Lucien’s eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and anguish. He stumbled back, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to process the truth.

“How?” Lucien whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “When… when did this happen?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you held your daughter closer. “It was Calanmai,” you said, your voice barely audible. “When… when we thought it was for the greater good of the Spring Court. I didn’t know I was pregnant until much later. I… I’m so sorry, Lucien. I should have told you.”

Lucien looked at the baby, his expression torn between anger and heartbreak. “And Eris?” he asked, his voice shaking. “How did he find out?”

Eris sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I found out that you two were together when you showed up in the court. She confessed everything a few weeks ago when I confronted her about it. I… I needed time to process it. That’s why I left.”

Lucien’s eyes flashed with anger. “I cant believe you left her alone to deal with this over… over some stupid opportunity to figure out how you might feel. The girl might be mine brother, but I never fell in love with her mother.”

“I didn’t know what to do!” Eris snapped, his own voice filled with anguish. “I was trying to protect her, to give myself space. I thought… I thought it was best..”

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unresolved emotions. You looked at Lucien, tears streaming down your face. “Please, Lucien,” you begged. “I know this is a lot to take in, but our daughter needs you.”

Lucien’s eyes softened as he looked at the baby. He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of the revelation. “I’m here,” he said finally, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m here for both of you..”

Eris stepped back, his face a mask of pain. “I’ll give you some space,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “Take care of her, Lucien. She needs you.”

As Eris turned to leave, you reached out, grabbing his hand. “Don’t you dare leave me again, Eris Vanserra,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “We need you too. Please, stay.”

Eris looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I don’t know if I can,” he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can handle this.”

Lucien's eyes were still wet with tears as he looked at the tiny life cradled in your arms. He took a deep, steadying breath, the weight of his decision pressing heavily on him. Finally, he spoke, his voice a mixture of determination and sorrow.

"I want to be part of her life," Lucien began, his gaze shifting between you and Eris. "But not as her father."

You and Eris exchanged a surprised glance. Lucien continued, his voice growing more resolute. "Eris, I want you to take over all rights to the child. You’ve been here for her, for both of them, and you should be the one to raise her."

Eris's eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly in disbelief. "Lucien, are you sure about this? She's your daughter—"

"I know," Lucien interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. "But I believe this is what’s best for her. I’ve seen how much you care for them, how much they both mean to you. And I… I don’t want to disrupt her life by trying to step in now."

Tears welled in your eyes again as you looked at Lucien, gratitude and sadness mixing within you. "Lucien… I…"

He held up a hand to stop you. "I’ll always be here for her, as her uncle. I want her to know she has family who loves her. But I think it’s best if she grows up with you as her father, Eris. Someone she can look up to and trust completely."

Eris swallowed hard, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "I promise," he said, his voice firm. "I promise to take care of her, to love her, and to give her the life she deserves."

Lucien nodded, relief and pain evident on his face. "That’s all I need to hear. Thank you, Eris."

A heavy silence filled the room, the gravity of the decision settling over all of you. Lucien stepped closer to the baby, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "She’s beautiful," he whispered, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "I’m glad she has both of you."

You reached out, placing a hand on Lucien’s arm. "Thank you, Lucien. For everything. I’ll make sure she knows how much you care about her."

Lucien nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "That’s all I could ever ask for."

Eris stepped forward, placing a hand on Lucien’s shoulder. "We’ll do this together. As a family."

Lucien took a deep breath, nodding once more before stepping back. "I should give you some time. There’s a lot to process, and she needs you right now."

As Lucien turned to leave, you called after him. "Lucien, wait." He paused, looking back at you. "You’re always welcome here. Anytime."

A grateful smile spread across Lucien’s face. "Thank you. I’ll see you soon."

With that, Lucien left the room, leaving you and Eris alone with your daughter. Eris looked down at you, his eyes filled with love and determination. "We’ll get through this," he said softly, his voice steady. "Together."

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you held your daughter close. "Together," you echoed, finding strength in his presence.

And as you looked at the tiny life in your arms, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a family.

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minkdelovely · 4 months ago

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love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter ten: part two

“i won’t die for love but ever since i met you you could have my heart and i would break it for you.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: nothing scary to report here — welcome to your happy ending 💖

word count: 8k

author’s note: cherished ones… i can’t believe we’re finally here at the end 🥲 it’s taken me much longer than anticipated to get this out, but i hope it’s worth the wait. allow me to extend my sincere gratitude to you all for hanging in there and going on this journey with me and this series. this started out as pure self-indulgence and turned into something much more along the way and i hope this is received by you as the gift i intended it to be. they’re not off the album i used as the platform for this series, but feel free to listen to rain and take me back to eden by sleep token, which i listened to A LOT while writing this. thank you again for all of your kindness and support. i truly don’t think i could have finished this without it 💖

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The last couple days had been… good.

Vaggie had approached you the morning after your little sleepover with Angel to see if you’d actually take her up on the offer of managing the hotel’s books. It was a welcome distraction, easily falling back into the routine of your old work. And honestly, their records keeping system needed a complete overhaul. It kept you busy and focused, hours passing like minutes as you honed in on creating the foundations of your system.

Funny how in Hell the work you had always approached with a level of disdain in life had become something to look forward to. Something that was all yours. It was nice. Familiar.

Ironic.

You also hadn’t gone to the bar — the biggest improvement, or at least the one you were happiest about. Feeling more like yourself again and less like your father, who had been no stranger to bouts of liquored-up sulking. It was not a way you wanted to remember him by, nor make a habit of for the eons to come. And beyond just feeling better without alcohol in your system, it was great to see Husk in a more friendly capacity again. Haunting his bar in the way you did wasn’t something you were ever planning to subject either of you any time soon.

You were regaining a level of comfortability in your room as well. Sleeping better in your bed, which had been difficult to do. For the first few days you slept on the loveseat, where you’ve now spent the last two nights curled up with a book in front of the fireplace.

It was a decent distraction, but thoughts of Alastor still plagued you. Try as you might, it was hard for them not to. He felt so present as you went about your day despite maintaining the separation; feeling his aura hovering around you like a sixth sense. You wanted to ask Husk and Niffty if they felt it like you did — if at all — but hadn’t gotten the nerve yet to do so.

What if they said no?

It was too embarrassing even to think of. The possibility of it being some kind of adverse affect from sleeping with him making your blood rush to your face.

Maybe I took a piece of him, too…

The heat on your cheeks intensified at the thought. Isn’t that exactly what had happened?

Sure, in a literal sense he had been the one to take a piece of you. But in return, you had witnessed him in yet another state that no one else — in this building, at least — ever had. Just the fact that he had let you help undress him… That wasn’t something you look lightly, even at the peak of your anger toward him. The nervous way your heart fluttered against your ribs at the memory only further proved the point.

You wanted the opportunity to do it again. Undress him, that is.

What followed after wasn’t of much consequence; you’d be satisfied just the same. Whether that was helping him out of his day clothes and into pajamas or preparing him to pound you into the mattress — either result was made from the same circumstance. You found you had enjoyed it even more than dressing down his bed for the evening, which had always been a nearly meditative part of your day.

Or, well… it used to be.

Did he even bother with that now? Hell, did he ever? Or was it just more busywork? If it was… you missed it.

Taking care of Alastor was tedious at times but it hadn’t been all bad. He was petulant too, which is probably why he was always deflecting and pointing the finger in your face. But past his venom there was charm. His euphemisms and anecdotes. Grumbling into the newspaper with his ears downcast whenever he came across an unpleasant article, which happened more often than not.

He enjoyed his coffee black and extra hot, but god forbid if it was burnt. That was one of the first things you had been tasked with perfecting, and mercifully, had been able to accomplish. Alastor never made you handle his food, not out of lack of trust but courtesy. Due to the gruesome reality of what he enjoyed eating, it wasn’t a chore he ever charged you with. And you’d busy yourself with cleaning while he ate to allow him as much privacy as possible.

As much as he adored the structure of his morning routine, beyond that the day was his for the taking. Living the monotonous life that you had, it was admirable. Sometimes inspiring. He had a mischievous, opportunistic outlook on existence — no doubt a quality that followed him into the afterlife — while you had been (presumably) buried jaded and trepidatious.

He was… fun. Even when he was irritating.

Before Rosie pawned you off on him, the last time you had ever felt something close to fun was killing your grandmother. A horrifying revelation, but true, though that had more to do with the satisfaction you felt from it than anything. But fun was something that was right at your fingertips with Alastor, when you looked back on the last couple weeks. He had quite the proclivity for antics when he wasn’t being crushed by the weight of his self-imposed grandeur.

The memory of when he brought you back to the alley the day after what you had done came to mind. His inspection of the bag you’d left behind had upset you so much in the moment, but now all you can remember is the glimmer in his eyes. The nearly childlike glee in his fanged smile. Sure, it had been at your expense, but that was how he liked to joke. Satire and whimsy adorned with the pretty bow of his voice and charm.

But his jokes were sometimes too one-sided. His delivery too harsh and actions… demeaning. It wasn’t a facet he aimed at you often but the sting of his cruelty ran deep, almost to the bone. Your hand came up to your throat, the pain in your neck only barely subsided. It had been impossible to tell if the chain had bruised you under all of Alastor’s love bites, but if you were being honest with yourself, there was no way it hadn’t. If even just a little.

You made due with covering yourself up. Managing to find some high-collared button up shirts left to rot in the laundry room. Nothing a good washing wasn’t able to fix. And as the days passed and the marks faded, you were able to transition back into more familiar (and revealing, in comparison) pieces of your wardrobe.

Still, being left to your own devices when Alastor had been the one responsible for not only the marks but ruining the dress that would’ve easily solved your problems with its modesty nicked at you. Not that you had expected gifts after the argument, but considering how he made you wear that dress as uniform there was no way he didn’t have plans to provide a replacement that morning. But it never came.

Instead he had given you a threat and left you on the floor in nothing but a towel, feeling used and humiliated and alone. And yet here you were, with a book in your hand you hadn’t absorbed the last few pages of because your mind was busy remembering the feeling of removing Alastor’s coat.

Or how disheveled and boyish he looked the morning you went into his room without permission and found him in bed. The strain in his eyes before you walked into Valentino’s arms. His drawn brows and open, kiss-swollen mouth when he made you his own on the bed right behind you. That face would haunt you for the rest of your afterlife.

But there was another face that earned the honor, too. An expression that eclipsed even your grandmother’s worst sneer. Was what you said to him that morning really so outrageous that it had warranted such wrath and disdain? Alastor had been in quite a decent mood too, before the conversation took a turn. Not that it made you feel any better, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something bigger than that. You had copped attitude before and Alastor had either laughed it off as a mild tantrum or course-corrected you before you even had a chance to realize it.

Beyond that, there were also the things he had done after you fell asleep, face buried in his scarred chest. The medicine he had waiting at the ready for when you inevitably woke up from the ache of his bite, which he had taken the liberty of cleaning and bandaging. He had more than likely done it by hand as well, the same as when he tended to it on your bed that awful morning. No magic, no minions. Despite being the least he could do since he inflicted the wound, that didn’t mean he had to do it himself. But he did.

Your stomach turned thinking about it. The force of his anger just didn’t match up with the efforts he took in caring for you after your entanglement. It was the push and pull you had been battling all week, and your eyes flitted to the door. Going up to his room wasn’t something you had entertained, knowing better than to try and call Alastor’s bluff, but the desire to speak with him now was a temptation you worried you’d lose the battle against.

Knock.

The single, hollow sound echoing off the door sent a jolt through your body, sitting up from your relaxed position on the small sofa near the fireplace. It was Friday, wasn’t it? Meaning everyone had left the hotel already except for you and…

There’s no way.

Your pulse spiked.

Maybe you just imagined it. Or the hotel was settling. Things like that could still happen to buildings in the afterlife, right? Ghosts and hauntings and creaks and groans seemed fairly on-brand for Hell. Alastor’s shadow — that you had found yourself missing as well — was proof of that all on its own.

It was that final thought that brought you to the door, hand hovering over the knob as your breath thinned; perspiration beading your skin like morning dew. Tormented by the prospect that opening it would either reveal him or nothing at all.

Unsure of which you were hoping for as you let your forehead fall forward, a huff of air passing your lips. Eyes closed as you relaxed into the cool lacquer of the wooden door, reaching out. Alastor felt especially close now. Typical that he would show up now that you were not only beginning to feel better, but also reaching the end of your rope in your banishment from him. If you weren’t too busy fighting the whiplash of frustration and want coursing through you, you would have laughed.

Even reconciliation had to be on his schedule…

If he was actually on the other side of the door wanting to make up, of course. This could all be your imagination, which would be particularly cruel on your mind’s part considering how just moments ago you were feeling so desperate to see him, if only just to talk. You sighed, condensation from your warm breath pilling under your mouth hovering near the door.

Was he really there?

Your hand gripped the handle in response, heart heavy and loud in your chest as you turned it and pulled. There was only one way to know for sure.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor took you in as you opened the door. An apprehensive expression on your face, but with an underlying relief. Though he didn’t need eyesight for the confirmation. Your heartbeat and scent told him all he needed to know with an honesty that betrayed you for his benefit. It was rather unfair, wasn’t it?

The life coming back to your eyes did not go unnoticed, either.

He felt what was left of his vitriol drain out of him, and in a rare moment of self-deprecation he found himself hoping his unpolished state would put you at ease. Despite the lingering tension that was still eating away at him, he truly did wish to avoid an argument. Shouting matches were simply… nasty. In a way he did not much, if at all, enjoy.

Conversation is called an art for a reason.

A true favorite of his and it was much more his speed. With such an adaptable form you could be fencing one minute and duetting the next. Unless, of course, the conversation was bad, which was a fate worse than death. But that hadn’t been a problem with you, for the most part. He’d like that to be the case now as he prepared to linger for as long as it took to reach some kind of resolution.

Things couldn’t stay the way they were. He knew you’d both return to yourselves eventually, but you had gotten a head start on him. Leaving him to grasp at what was on the other side of this only in regard to himself. If ever he needed you, you’d be just a summoning away. Tied to him always by your contract. Something that typically provided a sense of security to the point of aloofness. But the uncertainty of how you would approach your days independent of him in the aftermath made him falter. Made evident by the color that had returned to your face, that spark of ferocity in your eyes.

Deep down he understood that you would carry on.

Tied to him, yes, but not entangled. There was an unpleasant tightness in his chest at the thought, his jaw flexing with irritation. He wasn’t through exploring this, relishing the fire he felt in his blood at seeing you again up close, lungs taking in your scent to feed the flame. Your racing heart a sonnet so sweet in a way that only he could truly appreciate. Feeding a part of him that either had not existed or had been lying dormant which, now awakened, was eager for more and he found himself wondering when it ever would be satiated.

More of your voice ringing in his ears, whether it was coated in insolence or lust… or laughter. More of your scent in his lungs, oxygenating his blood with the bliss of childhood summers. More of your taste on his tongue. Blood, sweat, tears. He’d take it all, or whichever morsels you were still willing to give him. Even if all that left him with was cordiality, it would be far better than letting you slip through his fingers. How wasted you would be on some tramp off the street. Not even taking into account that the average soul couldn’t appreciate your scent, attributes like responsibility and integrity weren’t typically admired here in the pit.

Who else could see you the way he did?

Past the pout of your lips to the lethal fangs hiding behind them; that sleeping anger you managed to keep at bay but weren’t afraid to use if necessary. Would you ever reveal that ferocity and glowing eyes to someone else in the ways he had witnessed them — induced by tapping into some of your baser instincts? It made stomach twist just to think it.

Alastor’s imagination began to run away from him then. Flashes of you making some other sinner’s bed, fetching their coffee, and picking up clothes. Drawing a bath, hanging their coat, laughing at their jokes. That now-dear sulk of yours aimed at the faceless menace when one of those jokes went too far. Phantom hands stripping you of clothes, cupping your face, roaming your body… holding your chin. And though his urges were few and far between, worse still was the thought of you crying out a stranger’s name like a reverent prayer, writhing underneath them as you fell apart.

Foul.

Bile scorched his throat as he fought to maintain his composure in your doorway. The filthy handprints he had just pictured all over you gone in the blink of an eye as his own hand twitched behind his back, eager to hold you once more and feel the heat of your skin soak into his palm. Easy as it would be to reach out and satisfy the urge he refrained from doing so, smothering his desire in his fist. Now wasn’t the right time to succumb to impulse.

As much as Alastor wanted to pull you into his embrace he knew there was still a hatchet to bury. You had touched quite the nerve that morning, after all, and his actions had been less than genteel as a result. As justified as he had felt at the time, it settled in now as something he was less than proud of. Warranted… What a fool he was to think so. Though misguided, all you had done was try to make sense of things. You would be well within your rights to sever any further personal ties with him, and he swallowed against the anxious lump in his throat.

He had spent so much time wallowing in liquor, wasted countless hours justifying his anger toward you to ease his own unrest. Even if you had picked the fight… hadn’t he brought you right to the edge of it with his antics over the past weeks? In truth, hadn’t making you lose your composure been his goal from the start? He had certainly got what he wanted, just not in a way that was originally intended; culminating in a misunderstanding that threatened to keep parts of yourself locked away from him for, quite possibly, eternity.

Desiring someone’s comfort the way he did yours was something he never expected to have to face, let alone something he ever feared to lose. Alastor wondered for the first time how things between you would be had you met sooner. Granted, you had only been in Hell for two-or-so months, but he was a different man now than he was even then. The Alastor of two months ago still had his microphone, for starters. His sword and shield. Now nothing but another one of his corpses left to decay in the bayou.

That man hadn’t had his confidence shaken, his power drained. Alastor had felt so invigorated when he retreated to the radio tower to mend himself after battling Adam, but the healing process hadn’t been simple. Seeing as the weapon that caused the wound was made of angelic steel, Alastor expected it would take more time than usual, but he had underestimated the reality of it. So many arduous, slow hours had passed as he used all his strength just to make minute progress in closing the gash. It took a week to finally get it to seal, the scar barely formed by the time he encountered you at Rosie’s.

Simply put, you had weathered emotional storms that he typically had much better control of. There was a sourness in his soul that had been poisoning him from the very beginning of your relationship, which you took — more often than not — in stride. As much as he felt there was no one who fully appreciated you, Alastor believed it to be a two way street. Whether there was anyone else who could take your place — paramour, caretaker, or otherwise — was inconsequential. He simply wasn’t interested in the prospect. Hadn’t he gotten along just fine in his relative solitude before you fell to suffer your infernal fate?

It wouldn’t be the same.

It already wasn’t, in fact, which is why his feet had brought him here when his stubbornness wouldn’t. Opening the door to him was only the first step. You could still slam it in his face, effectively shutting him out; leaving him standing alone in the hall as the Overlord who owned your soul and nothing more.

He found it to be a dreadful prospect.

“May I come in?”

Even he could hear the exhaustion in his voice, making the question heavy in air as he watched you contemplate. Nervous fingers tapping the doorframe to the same beat as his heart before you stepped off to the side to make way for him. Alastor managed to fight the instinctual twitch at the corners of his mouth. Now wasn’t the time for smiling, despite the wave of relief he felt at your accepting of his request to enter.

As long as it takes…

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You watched as Alastor practically collapsed on your sofa, massaging his temples with a single hand as he leaned back to cross his legs. Still doing his best to maintain decorum despite how worn out he was. Discontent, you shifted on your feet, not wanting to give into the pity you felt towards him too easily.

As much as you tried to remember your anger, there was no denying the relief you felt at being near him again. Hearing his voice. And knowing he could pick up on it only made it worse. Would it ever be anything but an uphill battle for you when it came to him? Your eyes couldn’t help but look just past him to where you had fallen to the floor, left to console yourself in your shame and grief. The memory didn’t fuel what was left of your animosity, but pricked at your sadness instead, making you feel the weight of the day.

I’m so sick of this…

Alastor’s gaze followed you as you moved to take your seat next to him, picking your book up off the cushion and placing it on the small coffee table in front of you. His eyes and hand lingered on the cover as you sat down.

“I just missed the first draft,” he said quietly, static replaced with the distant sound of remembrance. Eyes never leaving your copy of A Farewell to Arms as he continued with a small, humorless laugh. “I was eligible for the others but the only Divisions I could have been placed in were booked. Funny, isn’t it, a quota on the worthiness to die at war? But I suppose that’s a conversation for another time…”

The glimpse of his human life caught you off guard. Vulnerability wasn’t something you expected from him, especially not in the wake of your argument; the admission was given so casually you couldn’t help but soften just a bit, leaving you hungry for more of his secrets.

He turned to you then, somehow looking even more tired than he had before. “We have our own battle to rectify, don’t we?”

You sighed and positioned your body to face him, bringing your legs up to sit criss-cross. This was shaping up to be a long night, so you decided you might as well get this out of the way. Even managing to get a piqued eyebrow out of him from the sober look that was no doubt on your face as you considered what you were about to say.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you that I enjoyed our…,” you trailed off, looking for the right word.

Our what?

Things had become so muddled you weren't quite sure what to call it. Sex, obviously, but… it had felt like more to you in the end. No matter how many times you reminded yourself that it wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a one night stand at best — and had spent the whole week drowning your sorrows trying not to think about the worst.

“I know you weren’t.” He said it in almost the same tone when you had admitted it in the first place, but his eyes were soft. “I enjoyed it myself, the second time. I thought that was obvious, but when you asked about the pheromones that morning… they had nothing to do with it. Not that evening. I… initiated that. Which is why I was so incensed by the implication that I was acting outside of myself.”

The confession sunk to the bottom of your stomach. You hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming and even keeled regarding it. And while you felt relief that the pheromones weren’t at play that evening — and that he had not only enjoyed, but desired it — you didn’t miss the implication of the words he kept to himself regarding how you ended up in this mess in the first place. The more you thought about it, the more you were beginning to understand why he felt the way he did. Was that why he had returned you to your room to wake up alone, because being in his bed was too much of a reminder? Had he really regretted it that much?

Because you didn’t.

The truth was you had been more than willing to give yourself to him that afternoon. Yes, you knew something wasn’t quite right, but you didn’t know he was fighting against Valentino’s nasty little trick. You’d never know what would’ve happened if you had denied him instead, because that’s not what happened. Would he have gone into a rage? In the state he was in, that wasn’t an impossibility. In fact, that was what you had been expecting, wasn’t it? In a way you dodged a bullet — received his affections, however intense, instead of his violence. The bruised remnants of his mark on your shoulder were a dizzying mix of both.

Though the ferocity you received the next morning… had it been lying in wait? Using the chain on you the way he did compounded by the words he spat at you was a tough memory to forget, to the point where you wondered if you ever could. He had only punished you that way one other time, but it had been nothing compared to this. Blood burned under your cheeks as you recalled how humiliated you felt. How different would things be right now if he had just let you stay?

“Look I…,” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, but resisted the urge to look away from him. “I really do understand why you’re unhappy with how things happened that afternoon but…”

Here goes nothing.

“It’s something I’ve been aware of in myself for a little while but… you don’t know how much it meant to me, being touched that way by you and how you let me touch you back it —” You wiped a tear you couldn’t stop from falling and cleared your throat, but the thick, choking feeling didn’t subside. The pinched look on Alastor’s face nearly sent you over the edge, but you couldn’t stop now that you’ve started. He needed to hear this as much as you needed to say it. “It made me really happy, if that’s even the right word for it.”

It wasn’t. But you didn’t know how else you could try to tell him how wanted and safe you felt underneath him. That no one had ever managed to turn your blood to kerosene; every bit of him the match, the bed behind you kindling. At this point it didn’t really matter that you hadn’t known him for very long. You cared about him, much more than you ever expected to, and you wanted to be near him in whatever capacity you could be. Whether that made you his errand girl or concubine, so long as you were spared from the more acidic side of his temper.

“And when I think about how much you regret it, it kills me, even though I know why you do. But… I don’t. You didn’t take advantage of me, if that’s something you’ve been worrying about. Honestly, now I can’t help but wonder if it’s the other way around…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed, lightly exasperated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve only ever gone along with my impulses and games. My behavior in this has been… unbecoming. I fear my mother would be quite ashamed, and rightfully so, but you’ve come to know me at a low point.”

Everything about him felt wrung out and far off, from his posture to the defeat in his unfiltered voice. It had been absent from the moment he asked to come inside, but for some reason was only hitting you now. Though you couldn’t fight the ache in your heart from the poor state of him, there was still more you needed to know before you could let yourself give in. No matter what subconscious queues your body was undoubtedly feeding him in the meantime.

“You say unbecoming…,” you began tentatively, worried that what you were about to ask could possibly upset him again. “Is that because of how you punished me that morning, or the toying you’ve subjected me to?”

If you had to choose, you really hoped that he’d feel apologetic for the chain. While they could be annoying, his games and tricks were mostly harmless. You had admitted to yourself not too long ago that you were even beginning to miss them. That was not a feeling you extended to the invisible leash that bound you to him, not the way it had been used then, at least.

Alastor removed the hand from his nose to meet your eyes, the speed of his movement catching you off guard. For the first time all night his eyes were clear and earnest; that steadfast, hypnotizing red you had come to seek and cherish.

“Would you accept it if I said both? By pushing you I think I may have set us up for the argument. I won’t say that what you said that morning didn’t upset me, since it did, but… Perhaps if I had given you less reason to think I was playing at another game it would have never happened in the first place.”

His voice was soft as he held his left hand out to you, a different charge in the air as your eyes broke contact to flicker down to his open palm.

The olive branch.

There was no doubt he could hear the way your heart had picked up, nearly choking you with its fervor as you swallowed against it… and gave him your hand.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“I was so humiliated that morning… I’ve been so mad at you.”

Alastor could hear the tears threatening to spill behind the statement, and he squeezed your hand before his thumb began to rub in soothing circles as you looked away from him for the first time that night. He took a quick moment to follow your line of sight and grimaced when he realized you were looking at the spot where he had treated you so harshly. There was nothing he could do to take back what he did. Regret was such an awful weight, reminding him of long nights trudging through the swamp to discard one of his victims. His mouth soured. It would seem he’d need to add your name to the list.

Things were never meant to end up this way. This… tangled.

He dared to lean forward, not that there was much distance to close on your quaint loveseat, and cupped your face with his other hand to draw your gaze back to his. The conflict in your eyes went right to his stomach with a kick — the chance that you would turn him away forever still there, but he was thankful you hadn’t rejected his touch. He really couldn’t have suffered through the empty ache in his hands for even another minute; the heat of your skin already refilling his cup.

And despite how much he wanted anything but, he knew he had to give you an out. It was only right.

“I was a brute… I can’t undo what’s been done but if you’d like me to leave you alone, I will. I’m not keen on releasing you from our contract, but I would let you leave this hotel if you wish.” The words scorched his tongue, but they were true. He would let you go if that’s what you really wanted. You deserved that chance. “It’s safer here, but I would know immediately if you faced any trouble. Well… any trouble you couldn’t handle yourself, that is. I know how capable you are.”

Alastor gave you a small smile, the first time his lips had curled up with any sincerity for days. It was the most generous offer he had ever given a soul under his heel, and your short, dry laugh in response was music to his ears. There was no bitterness in the sound, nor was there any coming from your scent, but that wasn’t an indication of what was going on in your mind. Something the Overlord needed to remind himself of more often. He took a moment to really breathe you in then, floral notes of almond warming him on the inside as your body warmed him from out. Would it be the last time he was ever surrounded by you like this?

He didn’t know when his thumb began to absently stroke your cheek, but he loved the flush it brought to your face as you considered his words. A hint of iron gave the sweetness in the air just enough bite to make him swallow, his throat now parched and wanting. It took all he had not to close the remaining space between you, needing your answer before he would move an inch save the part of him caressing your face.

A jolt ran through him as your eyes locked onto his with a resolve that made his hair stand on edge, and he steeled himself as your lips parted to speak. Never could he have imagined that you would join the short list of people to hold his fate in their palm. And fewer still, one that he didn’t hold resentment toward having that power. There was security in your hold, not malice. Such a rare thing to stumble across even in life, let alone in this sulfurous chasm that had been home for the last near-century. As unworthy as he felt to receive it, the thought of losing it was even worse. He wasn’t in love… but it wasn’t impossible that he could be, with more time.

If you would give it to him.

“I don’t want to leave the hotel,” you said quietly, and brought your free hand up to hold his chin in the same way he had held yours countless times.

Alastor felt his ears lower despite how attuned they were to hear what you would say next, though the thumping in his chest didn’t help. To reach out and touch him of your own accord this way was bold, and he tried not to hone in on the bashfulness he felt burning his face. Why choose shame when he could have comfort? That was what he wanted, after all. A reprieve from The Radio Demon. There was nothing to be gained in postering, not with you. With you he could be… anything. And no matter your decision, he vowed to provide you with the same space.

His schemes to mold you into something you weren’t fled him with every exhale of his lungs. It was a senseless desire… Remorseless murders were a dime a dozen here. Thrilling as it had been to see you decapitate that wretch with your teeth, the fact that you refused to do something akin to that again merely for the sake of it like so many others was refreshing. He could appreciate only killing with purpose. That had been his modus operandi in life, after all. Murder was a tool he now used to illicit fear and respect, though most souls here were free game to him even under his mortal code. You were not, and it had taken him much too long to acknowledge it.

“And I don’t want you to leave me alone… ever again, but…”

But…

The shakiness in your voice felt like the blade of a guillotine, hovering above his neck while he agonized over when you would let the rope loose and seal his fate.

“I don’t know if I could handle that again. The chain, your anger — ” A small sob escaped you then, tearing through him like a hurricane.

Alastor didn’t even realize he was kissing your face until the salt of your tears registered on his tongue. Every little press of his lips an oath to never make you cry like this because of him ever again. And when your hands cupped his cheeks he only had a moment to relish in his relief, sighing against your skin before you captured his lips with yours. A familiar green glow enveloping you both as an unspoken agreement was made.

Peace.

What a magnanimous gift to receive.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Low voices pulled you out of sleep, making you aware of the cold that was beginning to sink into the front of your body. You had been so warm… so comfortable.

Safe.

More mumbling at your door as you groaned, the grievance in the sound not lost on you even in your groggy state. It wasn’t lost on Alastor either, saying something you couldn’t decipher beyond its tone of finality followed by the closing of the door.

“It’s still the middle of the night sweetheart, don’t stir.”

You didn’t even have time to ask who was at the door before he ran a soothing hand through your hair, maneuvering himself back into place in your bed. Pressing the length of his body in close against yours as he nuzzled into your chest, humming as he found the pulse of your heart. The warm, claiming kiss he placed there sent a shiver through you, your shared embrace tightening in response.

“What’s gotten into you? You promised you’d be good,” you mumbled, wriggling a little from the way his breath tickled your skin.

Even to yourself the warning was half-admonishing at best. But you were also just barely awake. Fingers betraying you as they lightly massaged his undercut, his contented sigh making you hide your face in his hair as if he could see the flush on your cheeks.

You’d be stronger in the morning.

Pet names and kisses like this weren’t something you were expecting to receive again so soon. It had been discussed, and you had both agreed to try and take things slow. A fresh start, of sorts. While you were used to him calling you dear, it was a term he used frequently toward other residents as well.

Sweetheart was… special.

Which he no doubt knew. Most likely saying it when he did so he could press up and relish your rapid heart like you were none the wiser.

“I know, I know,” he conceded, his words muffled by your skin. Inadvertently kissing you more due to the sheer proximity of his lips to your chest. Feeling closer to you now than he had during intimacy.

And, admittedly, cuddling in bed wasn’t exactly what you’d call taking it slow. But by the time you had finished talking — and making out on the loveseat — the two of you were so exhausted that letting him spend the night had seemed innocent enough. Like platonically sharing a bed with a friend. Though that’s not a word you would use to describe what Alastor was to you.

More than friends, not quite lovers. Beholden to each other all the same.

“Which is why I’ll only do this… for now.”

Alastor’s words and the warning, low tone of his voice hardly registered before you felt his tongue lap at the valley between your breasts, leaving a scorching trail in its wake that made your breath hitch. The soft groan from his open mouth right over your heart only making it beat harder, pleading for more of him. His large palm splayed against your back as he pressed you against his lips to nestle and kiss and suck, as if trying to pull the frantic organ through your skin through desire alone. You gasped as the light prick of his nails between your shoulders sent a fresh shiver down your spine, ending in a warm bloom between your hips as you curled into his touch. His responding needy hum as he grazed you with his teeth making you whimper.

Stronger in the morning…

“You’re not playing fair,” you complained, but it was a pathetic attempt at a scolding. You didn’t really want him to stop. Alastor’s responding chuckle told you that he knew it, too. The sound of it making your heart ache, and you were unable to suppress the small whine from behind your closed lips as he nipped and licked at your collarbone. “I missed you so much.”

You barely managed to finish speaking when he moved up to kiss you properly, slow and sweet, hand leaving your back to cradle the crown of your head. Melting into his touch, you moaned as his tongue entered your mouth; gentle and hot, coaxing whimpers and gasps from both of you as you tangled your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

“I missed you, too,” he said quietly, nudging your nose with his.

Tears fell unbidden as Alastor caressed and kissed the lingering bruises from his bite, seemingly determined to make them disappear through sheer willpower. Every little touch — administered or received — was comforting in a way that you feared would leave you insatiable, but the thought that formed in your mind through the haze of affection was a reassuring one.

This was eternity.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Fess up, toots.” Angel plopped down on a chair across from you, gleaming as he rested his head in his hands and leaned forward conspiratorially. “You’re havin’ all kinds of sleepovers now, huh?”

You nearly dropped the mug in your hands from the sudden question, and quickly looked around to see if anyone else had overheard. Not that the reconciliation was going to be secret — which would have been impossible to pull off anyway, considering how much the two of you had been moping around the hotel — but you had hoped to at least make it through the morning with the knowledge kept to yourselves.

“That was you at the door last night, I’m assuming?” The nonchalance you were aiming for just enough to get a laugh from him. “What did you say to him anyway?”

“Just that I was checkin’ up on my girl — which he did not appreciate me callin’ ya, by the way — after missin’ the big night out. I hope I didn’t send him to bed too mad.” Judging by the smug look on Angel’s face, he knew that Alastor definitely had returned to bed at least a little ruffled. “Buuut after I heard ya wakin’ up I figured I’d save the teasin’ for another day.”

“And you started bright and early,” you quipped, unable to help the smile tugging at your lips as you went back to preparing the breakfast tray.

“Well ya ain’t exactly bein’ subtle, what with the two mugs and all,” Angel taunted, jerking his head in the tray’s direction, “but jokes aside… I’m glad you were able to patch things up with Smiles. Who woulda thought all it’d take was an empty hotel, huh?” He gave you a wink and you narrowed your eyes at the suggestion, but he cut you off before you could even begin to ask the question forming in your mind. “Look, I gotta run, but I’m expectin’ a full report when I get back from work, capisce? Oh! Speakin’a which — guess who’s supposed to be on set tomorrow?”

It was your turn to laugh. “It’s about time that lazy bitch went back to work. Making the rest of you pick up the slack is just rude.”

You both snickered as you added the finishing touches on the tray, rounding out the coffee with some croissants and fruit. It definitely paid to be in the Princess’ circle; grapes in particular were very hard to come by. There wasn’t much time to relish in your mirth with Angel before you felt a cool, slinking tendril climb up your leg. Alastor’s shadow soon emerging over your shoulder to glare at your friend and whine in your ear.

Angel put all four of his hands up in mock defeat and pushed away from the table. “Duty calls, I get it,” he chuckled and gave you a knowing look, popping a grape from the tray into his mouth before making his way out of the kitchen. “Make sure the boss man knows ya got plans for tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you called after him, glancing behind you as the shadow growled at the spot where Angel Dust had been. Its face reverted back to sullenness when you pursed your lips, admonishing him with only a look. Any lingering irritation dissolved as it tugged at your sleeve, urging you back upstairs, and you conceded with a sigh. “You wouldn’t even be here to come get me if it wasn’t for Angel, you know. I expect you to be nicer next time.”

The shadow nodded its head and pulled on you again, its phantom grin quickly returning when you picked up the tray and began to walk back to the elevators. Baseless hostility toward Angel aside, it was hard not to smile as you watched it flitter across the floor; pausing every few feet to materialize and look back, ensuring you were right behind it. If your theories about this creature were right, it was merely acting as an extension of the demon you were making your way back to, and he was apparently quite eager for your return. A warm rush of pride left your body tingling at the thought.

Then again… it wouldn’t do well for the two of you to be late to your sudden appointment with Rosie. Who, according to Alastor, was very anxious to see you both and had something special planned that he had nothing to do with.

Yeah, right…

When you entered your room, you found Alastor at the loveseat still lounging in his pajamas and you scoffed, “That was a lot of urgency from someone who hasn’t gotten dressed yet.”

“Well, I had to do something. Our mutual friend was getting you off-track. I thought we took the same pleasure in this morning routine of ours, but perhaps I’m mistaken?” Alastor’s tone was light, his smile teasing as he watched the blush burn your face.

You cleared your throat as you took a seat next to him after setting down the tray and decided to change the subject. What point was there in admitting what he already knew?

“Rumor has it that Donny’s finally scheduled back to work tomorrow,” you said conversationally, helping yourself to some of the fruit.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before his face lit up in a hearty laugh; the ebullient sound of it making the mark he had left over your heart radiate with fondness. His face sharpened with that menacing, debonair grin as he looked down at you while you poured his coffee.

“Took him long enough to pull himself together, didn’t it? You did do quite a number on him, darling.”

You hummed, pleased with the proud look he gave you, and passed him the mug; a shock running through you as your fingers touched. Silly, considering how you had been pressed together all evening… not to mention all the other marks he left that matched the one currently throbbing between your breasts.

Even in life, you never could have imagined something like this. Sitting in the parlor with a suitor, giggling over coffee and breakfast after an evening of whispering sweet nothings between kisses. It would be foolish to think a peace like this could last forever, but this was the afterlife. Wasn’t peace the absolution from mortality and its fickleness? As you watched Alastor sip his coffee, his free hand absently massaging the back of your neck as he hummed along to the radio, you couldn’t help but think so.

Peace, friendship, sanctuary, love, and power.

Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was home.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

ps: a special shoutout to my darlings @hazelfoureyes and @sugoi-writes for giving me their shoulders to lean on while i worked on this final chapter. you both have listened to me ramble off ideas and scenarios and have supported me with such patience and grace… i don’t know how i’ll ever repay you but i will never stop trying!

pps: i do have plans for an epilogue, but don’t have a timeline on it just yet… stay tuned 😌💖

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @stardustandbrimstone, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts , @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @alastorthirsty, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @fraugwinska, @littlebluefishtail, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #song fic #if i can't have love i want power #love and power #slow burn #hazbin hotel slow burn

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formulauno98 · 20 days ago

Text

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Twelve / Chalet Girl Winter - Saturday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: 🌶 Some mild spice but 18+ only.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this. Sorry for the huge delay in posting, life has been hectic! Hope you still enjoy my fic.

SATURDAY MORNING

You were blissfully happy waking up in Toto’s warm embrace, exactly where you had drifted off to sleep following your passionate night. Light was creeping in through the curtains that you didn’t even remember closing last night and you smiled as it dawned on you that Toto must have closed them once you were asleep. Thankfully the storm had passed, leaving a stillness save for Toto’s soft breathing as he slept soundly beside you.

Trying your best not to disturb him, you shifted as you moved over to check the alarm clock on the bedside table to see how early it was. Eight thirty, fuck.

Toto had told everyone to be down for breakfast at nine, ready to hit the ski slopes shortly after. Amid the power cut you’d both forgotten to put your phones on charge so your alarms hadn’t woken you up.

A little nervous about waking the man sleeping next to you, you gently shook his arm. “Morning.”

He still did not stir so you tried again, this time more forcefully. “Hey, wake up…”

“Huh?” came a groan, as he opened his eyes sleepily, his hand drifting to your waist, “What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty,” you said, “I’m sorry to wake you but our alarms didn’t go off.”

“No no don’t be silly.” he said, clutching you closer, his lips ghosting the back of your ear, “Sorry, I should have put our phones on charge when the power came back on.”

”Didn’t it come back on in the middle of the night?” you asked, snuggling back into his arms, content with staying in bed for a while longer.

”Yes, not long after you dropped off.” he said, kissing your shoulder, “I got up to close the curtains.”

“Well, aren’t you slick?” you replied lazily, “Drawing the curtains so we have an excuse to never get out of bed.”

“Hmm,” said Toto, his hands roaming absentmindedly over your body as he spooned you, “I suppose we do need to get dressed. But I don’t want to.”

“Me neither,” you said, pulling his arm back over you.

“You’re a bad influence,” he said, lightly squeezing your thigh before letting go entirely and slipping out of bed.

Pouting, you made a face as he wandered over to the curtains, offering you a prime view of his gym

honed ass.

“Stop looking at my ass,” he said, chuckling as he drew back the curtains, revealing the spectacular morning view of the valley below. The sky was bright and the snow was sparkling, it was the perfect day.

“I actually don’t know which view I prefer,” you said, sitting up in bed, smirking.

“Nice save.” said Toto before coming back over to you, “Now, we don’t have so much time. Do you want to use the bathroom first or do you want to share?”

Showering together was a new level of intimacy that you’d been yet to explore but you figured there was no time like the present to try it, “Let’s share.” you said with a smile.

– – –

Thanks to Toto lathering you up in the shower thoroughly, you’d taken longer to get ready than you’d anticipated. By the time you made yourselves present in the dining room for breakfast, your guests had almost finished eating.

“Good morning,” said Toto, brazen in his tardiness.

“Morning boss.” replied James with a wink, “I see your game, tell us to wake up early and give yourself a lie in.”

“I’m sure he was otherwise occupied,” John added with a knowing smirk, one of the few people who would dare try and tease Toto.

Toto chuckled, sitting down beside you, pouring you both a coffee and grabbing some pastries. “Work-life balance, James. Some of us have mastered it.”

James, not missing a beat, grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you were busy working hard this morning.”

Toto raised his coffee cup with a mock-serious nod, “As always.”

As the table laughed, you clocked Sam and Darren looking at each other, surprised to see their boss so relaxed. Less amused was George, whose eyes flickered to you more than once and although he tried to mask it, there was no mistaking the way his jaw tightened when his eyes found Toto. To his left, Elisa simply looked a little bored. You still could not figure her out.

“So, we were just talking about today’s plan” John started as the laughter died down, “What were you thinking Toto? Looks like the perfect powder day.”

“Well, I have promised some ski lessons, so we will be taking to the blue runs this morning.” he said, slipping his arm around you, “But I know some of you already ski well and George is keen to try the black runs so I suggest we split and reconvene at lunchtime. What do you all think?”

Murmurs echoed around the table as the group found Toto’s plan agreeable. You were slightly nervous as you were not confident with skiing but Toto had assured you he’d be patient.

“Sounds good to me boss.” said George, “Who’s up for the blacks?”

“Count me in,” Sam said, a competitive glint in his eye.

Darren nodded eagerly. “Me too. Just try to keep up, George.”

Elisa let out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on you boys, so you don’t do anything stupid.”

George shot her a glance, clearly not thrilled with her sarcasm. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime,” she replied curtly.

Clocking their awkward interaction, Cara caught your eye, raising an arched brow. It was certainly a strange dynamic and not one you expected for a new couple. Even when your relationship was fraught you wouldn’t have said something like that to George.

Breaking the tension, John countered, “I’ll come too, Elisa. These boys are troublemakers eh?”

Smiling slightly Elisa nodded, “Great.” She was hard work for sure.

“Anybody else?” asked George, looking around the table, brushing off Elisa’s frostiness.

“No way.” said Marion, “I’ll be on the blues, I’m on holiday, not at boot camp.”

James laughed in agreement, “Same, plus with my dodgy knee, blues are probably for the best. I’m getting old!”

“That’s more than fair.” said George, “How about you Cara?”

“I’ll keep an eye on James.” she said, “Last year he took a tumble and he can’t be trusted.”

‘Oh yes, the infamous tumble.” said John, trying to stifle a laugh, “Sponsored by the air ambulance.”

“Don’t remind me.” said James, “Humiliating.”

“What happened?” you asked Toto quietly.

“You know these guys, always competitive.” he said, gesturing at them, “They decided to go off-piste on an adventure and long story short, James cracked his ankle and had to be airlifted to hospital.”

“Oh shit, I never heard about this!” you said, “Well hopefully that won’t happen on this trip.”

“You and me both,” said James smiling dryly.

“Indeed. Well, I think we have a plan, shall we get ready and reconvene in ten minutes?” Toto said, glancing at the clock. “We don’t want to miss the best of the morning powder.”

As everyone finished their coffees, you could feel George’s eyes lingering on you again. It made you slightly uneasy but Toto seemed oblivious, content to finish his croissant and hit the slopes as quickly as possible.

– – –

Having suited and booted with some help from a bemused Greta, you’d made it outside. Out on the slopes, the day was stunning, crisp air, clear skies and the perfect layer of powdered snow. As discussed the group had split with George leading half of the group to the black runs, whilst you stayed on the blue runs, eager to improve your technique with Toto’s help.

You should have been confident, but as you started your descent on your first run, nerves took hold and no amount of encouragement from Toto could keep you from feeling slightly out of your depth. Although it was just a blue, the least challenging colour for Austrian slopes, it felt steeper than you had expected.

“Just take it slow,” Toto called out from beside you, his voice reassuring. “You’re doing great.”

“I feel like Bambi,” you muttered, your legs trembling as you tried to stay upright.

He laughed, skiing effortlessly alongside you. “You look a lot better than Bambi.”

Despite his best efforts, your nerves got the better of you and in the middle of a particularly sharp turn, you lost your balance. Before you could stop yourself, you toppled sideways, falling into the soft snow with a thud. You let out a groan, wiping snow off your face as you lay sprawled on the ground.

Toto immediately skidded to a stop and instead of helping you up, lowered himself down beside you, laughing, “Well, that was elegant.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, “You’re supposed to help me, not join me!”

“I couldn’t leave you down here alone,” he said, grinning as he lay back on the snow, his head resting on his arms. “Besides, it’s nice down here. We should make snow angels.”

"You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. You unclipped yourself and lay back beside him.

“Tradition after a fall,” Toto teased, nudging your leg. “Come on, snow angels.”

You let out a playful sigh, moving your arms and legs to join in, both of you laughing like children.

When you finally sat up, catching your breath, Toto was having none of it and pulled you back down to lie on top of him, your helmets and goggles clashing slightly as he leaned up for a kiss.

“Thank you,” you said, resting your hand on his chest.

“What for?” he asked, squeezing you closer.

“For not making me feel like shit for falling over.” You glanced up the slope, where George and the others were likely tackling the black runs. Memories surfaced of your last ski trip with George and how he’d only offered a hand with an impatient shake of his head whenever you fell. There had been no lying in the snow laughing together.

Toto followed your gaze and reached out, brushing snow from your cheek. “Everybody falls.” he said, his eyes concerned, “It’s part of learning, you’re doing great.”

You gave a small nod and a smile, your heart pounding, not from the fall, but from the man sprawled out on the snow beneath you.

“Let’s get back up,” he said, lifting you to your feet before pulling himself up too. “You’ve got this.”

As you both brushed off the snow, you felt a surge of determination. “Okay, okay, I’m going to try again. And this time I’m not going to fall.”

Toto chuckled, adjusting his goggles. “I’ll hold you to that. Just remember, confidence is key.”

With a nod, you pushed off again, heart racing. The snow felt softer beneath your skis this time, but as you approached another turn, the nerves crept back in. You focused on the rhythm, just like Toto had shown you, but just as you began to gain some speed, a small bump caught you off guard.

“Shit!” you shouted, your skis slipping out from under you as you tumbled sideways again, landing in a fluffy pile of snow.

“Not going to fall again huh?” Toto called out, amusement dancing in his eyes as he skied up next to you, extending a gloved hand to help you up, “You’re making this look like an Olympic sport.”

“Very funny,” you replied, “At this rate, I’ve won the Gold.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist as he handed your pole back to you, “There’s that winning mentality.”

As you regained your footing, you spotted George and the others zipping down a steep black run in the distance. George was flying along with Elisa alongside him and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate. Intrusive thoughts entered your mind but you tried your best to shake them off and turned your attention back to Toto.

“Ready to give it another go?” he asked, his tone encouraging.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, buoyed by Toto’s kind smile. He really had the patience of a saint.

With a fresh focus, you tackled the slope again, taking Toto’s advice and making it a decent way down before the familiar wobbles crept in. Only this time, you kept your nerve and nailed the next turn.

“There you go,” Toto cheered, skiing alongside you. “That’s much better.”

“Thanks! I think I might be getting the hang of it,” you grinned, your confidence growing.

As you reached the bottom, you were greeted by the view of Cara, Marion and James waiting for you at the cafe at the bottom, bundled up in their jackets, sipping hot chocolates from steaming mugs. They had decided to take it easy, and they were clearly enjoying the show, clapping enthusiastically as you approached the terrace.

“You did it!” Cara called out, her face glowing with pride.

“Well, I had a very patient teacher,” you said, brushing snow from your goggles and turning towards Toto as he skied up next to you.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a fan club,” he said teasingly.

“Of course, we were all rooting for you!” Marion added, raising her mug in salute. “You’re getting there.”

You laughed, feeling a warm flush of accomplishment. “Progress, right?”

“Absolutely,” Cara said, giving you a playful nudge. “I’d say you’re officially a skier now. Just don’t go challenging anyone to a race just yet. I know what this lot are like!”

“Agreed,” Marion said, looking over at James. “Let’s not have another air ambulance situation on our hands.”

James raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I learned my lesson. I’m here for moral support, not for reliving that disaster.”

As the group finished up their hot chocolates, readying themselves to return to the slopes, you felt a lightness in the air. The atmosphere was infinitely more comfortable without George’s glowering, Sam and Darren’s jibes and Elisa’s stony-faced judging. You turned back to Toto, who was now watching you with an affectionate smile. “What’s next, coach?” you asked.

“Do you want to tackle that run again? I want to see you take those turns like a pro,” Toto replied.

“Okay, but you’re coming with me again, right?” you asked, feeling a flicker of nervousness again.

“Of course,” he assured you, “I like the view when I ski behind you.”

“Very funny,” you said, “Okay, let’s do this thing.”

“Remember, slow and steady,” Toto reminded you as you started to make your way to the lift.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. No more Olympic tumbles,” you joked, rolling your eyes as Toto led the group back to the queue for the lift.

Once he was out of earshot, James leaned over, smirking. “You know, I think you’ve officially stolen Toto’s heart. Just look at him.”

Cara nudged him, laughing. “Are you jealous my love?”

“Not at all,” he protested, feigning offence. “Just stating what I see. But seriously, it’s good to see him in such high spirits.”

Marion nodded. “For sure, I never dreamt we would see him lying down in the snow making snow angels.”

Your cheeks flushed at their compliments and you glanced towards Toto, who was busy chatting animatedly with the lift operator. He turned, catching your eye and winked. Perhaps the group was right? When you’d been with George and gone to watch him race, Toto had always seemed serious, somewhat dour at times. Now he was out here smiling, laughing and throwing himself down into the snow without a care in the world. Life could take some crazy turns sometimes.

– – –

On the lift, you found yourself squashed between Toto and Marion, nerves creeping back in as the anticipation of the next run grew. Ever observant, Toto reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly as the lift approached the top.

Once you had disembarked, Toto turned to you with a smile. “Ready?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself. “Do I have a choice?”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, but you’ve got this.”

With that, you both pushed off together, gliding down the slope. You focused on his advice, slow and steady, controlling each turn and this time, something clicked. Instead of feeling anxious, you allowed yourself to enjoy the speed and the rush of cold air against your face as you flew down.

“See? Told you you’d get the hang of it!” Cara shouted from the terrace, where she was already unclipping her skis.

Toto laughed, his eyes sparkling with pride as he made his way over to you. “Next stop, the red runs. But first, hot chocolate?”

“Now you’re talking!” you replied, heart bursting with happiness. You’d never managed a full run without falling and you knew it was unlikely you’d pull it off twice. Carefully unclipping your skis beside Toto and Cara, you were grateful to be back on solid ground as you stepped onto the cafe terrace.

As Toto and James disappeared to get a round of hot chocolates, you settled down at one of the wooden tables beside Cara and Marion, noticing George and the rest of your group coming down the black run, all looking a bit dishevelled but laughing.

George’s laughter rang out and you caught the eye of Elisa, who seemed less than pleased with the men’s antics. “Looks like they survived after all,” you remarked, nudging Cara playfully.

“Barely!” she laughed. “They’ll probably be banging on about doing the black runs all day.”

“Lord spare me,” Marion groaned, eyeing her husband with mock exasperation.

You watched as the group came closer, coming to join you for your very early après ski. John had a huge grin on his face, animatedly recounting a moment when he had nearly wiped out while trying to keep pace with George. Sam and Darren were both clapping him on the back, clearly enjoying the show.

“What did we miss?” George asked, clipping his helmet on the back of the chair opposite you, his cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement.

“Oh, just the usual, me falling over about four hundred times,” you said, gesturing to the snow around you.

“Hey, we all have our talents,” he replied, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “But seriously, you look like you’re getting better. I saw you on that last run.”

“Thanks,” you replied, surprised at how cordial George was being.

“I also saw you making snow angels,” George said, his expression shifting for a moment as he glanced at Toto who was now returning with a tray of hot chocolate, James by his side. You could sense an underlying tension, but you brushed it aside.

“It had to be done,” you laughed, trying to keep the mood light.

As Toto and James settled at the table, passing out drinks, the group’s laughter rose again, cutting through the cold breeze. You’d been cautious about showing too much affection with Toto around George but now the chill was biting and you couldn’t resist shifting closer to Toto for warmth.

You glanced at George, now deep in conversation with Elisa, though something in his demeanour made you uneasy. Was it jealousy or something else? You shook it off, turning your attention back to the breathtaking view of the mountains surrounding you.

Toto leaned in, his voice low and warm. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, nestling closer to him. “Just a little cold.”

Pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around you with ease, “Are you sure it’s just the cold?” he asked softly.

You nodded, knowing he could see right through you. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking it all in.”

Toto’s gaze followed yours to George and Elisa. His jaw clenched briefly before he turned back to you, his expression softening. “If you need to get away, we can. No rush.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m having a great time,” you reassured him, lifting your hot chocolate with a smile. “And besides, I’m not missing out on this.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “Fair enough. Just say the word.”

As the group's chatter continued around you, you felt a fleeting pang watching George and Elisa. But then Toto squeezed your shoulder, anchoring you to the present.

"Ready for another run after this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," you replied, smiling up at him.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

By the time you returned to the chalet, your muscles aching from a full morning of skiing followed by a boozy schnitzel-and-chips lunch, the heated pool had never appealed more. Toto had left you to change alone as he needed to wrap up some business with James and John, so you’d taken your time upstairs slipping into your swimsuit, savouring a few moments of solitude.

As you made your way down to the pool area, you could already hear the others' voices echoing around. Toto was perched on the edge, his legs dipping into the water as he was deep in conversation with James and John. Cara and Marion were leisurely swimming laps, their quiet chatter carrying over the gentle ripple of the water.

At the far end of the pool, Elisa lounged in a skimpy white bikini, her attention seemingly fixed on George, who hovered nearby, nodding along at whatever story she was spinning. She had been glued to his side all day, though George’s interest seemed half-hearted. Sam and Darren were sprawled on the lounge chairs behind them chatting away.

The instant you stepped into the warm pool, you sighed in relief. The tension in your body seemed to melt away as you found a quiet spot in the pool, closing your eyes to finally relax. Before long, though, Elisa’s voice drifted your way.

“Love your swimsuit,” she called over, her tone friendly enough, though something was off, “So classic.”

You returned her smile, choosing not to overthink it. Before you could respond, Cara, always quick to back you up, floated by. "Yes, a one-piece is always elegant. Sometimes bikinis can be a bit... much," Cara said, casting a sidelong glance at Elisa.

Marion gave a knowing laugh as she swam up beside Cara. "Especially when you’ve got a body like hers. No need to flaunt everything to look good."

Elisa’s mouth tightened for a fraction of a second, but the message was received. You exchanged a grateful glance with Cara and Marion, the two older women certainly had your back. Elisa’s smirk faltered, though the look she gave you made it clear she wasn’t backing down entirely.

Oblivious to yours and Elisa’s exchange, Toto, wrapping up his conversation with James, finally stood and wandered over to where you floated, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He crouched at the pool's edge, his eyes twinkling.

“How’s the water?” he asked, his gaze locked on you as if the rest of the world had momentarily disappeared.

“Perfect,” you said, letting the warmth relax you. “You should come in.”

He grinned, not needing to be asked twice. A second later, he jumped in, the splash hitting Elisa who squealed in annoyance. You couldn’t help but laugh and for a brief moment, you felt vindicated.

Elisa shot Toto an irritated look, but he seemed unbothered, floating over to you and discreetly wrapping an arm around your waist. “You’re not tired of me yet?” he teased softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Not even close,” you whispered back with a smile.

As you drifted together, your gaze wandered to the side of the pool where George sat beside Elisa, watching the two. Noticing his lingering looks, his companion leaned closer and whispered something in his ear, her eyes flicking to you before giving a self-satisfied smile.

Toto followed your gaze, catching George’s glare and his hold on you tightened slightly. His easygoing demeanour didn’t falter, but you could feel the subtle shift in his mood. “Come on,” he whispered, guiding you towards the far pool edge. “Let’s get some space, I’ll show you the sauna.”

Without drawing much attention, the two of you made your way out of the pool, changing out of your wet swimwear and wrapping yourselves in towels as you padded toward the sauna. The small wooden room was warm and inviting, the heat hitting you as soon as you stepped inside. Toto shut the door behind you and at long last, it was just the two of you.

You immediately sat down on the wooden bench, leaning back as the heat started to work its magic on your tired muscles. It was even better than the pool. You closed your eyes and sighed contently “This is heaven.”

“Are you not taking off your towel?” said Toto, sitting on the bench beside you with a creak, his hand resting on your thigh, the casual touch sending a shiver up your spine.

“Huh?” you said, opening your eyes to find a very naked Toto sitting beside you. “Is that a thing here? What if someone sees?”

That earned a deep laugh, “You’re concerned about someone seeing you naked… in a sauna?”

“Yes.” you said, “Why is that so funny?”

“It’s expected here. People will stare at you if you keep the towel on.” Toto teased, “But do what you want, it’s just me.”

Grateful that the dim light of the sauna concealed your creeping blush, you felt silly. “I never knew that, I thought that was a Scandinavian thing.”

Toto mused, stroking your thigh, “You make me laugh.”

“Glad I can keep you entertained,” you said dryly before standing up and whipping your towel off dramatically, baring all in front of him, “Happy now, Mr Wolff?”

“Very.” he said, gripping your hips and pulling you close to him, pressing a kiss to your bare stomach, “Come, sit down.”

Taking your seat once more, the heat enveloped you. This was exactly what you needed to cure your aching muscles. Noticing Toto grab his shoulder and wince, you leaned over and gently started massaging, your fingers gliding over his warm skin.

As your fingers worked their magic, you could feel the tension in Toto's shoulders begin to melt away beneath your touch. “Mmm, that’s good,” Toto said with a teasing grin, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back into your hands. “I might just make you my personal masseuse.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Is that how you plan to keep me around?” you quipped, continuing your gentle kneading. “By making me your travelling spa therapist?”

Toto chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the quiet sauna. “Perhaps. I could get used to this.”

You laughed, your fingers gliding down to his upper back, where the muscles were knotted. “Be careful, I might start charging.”

“Oh really?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “How much?”

You giggled, the sound mingling with the warmth of the room. “Some cuddling tonight, maybe a ski lesson, another snorkel rescue mission?”

“Deal,” he said, nodding seriously before breaking into a grin. “Although you may have to wait until Summer for any more snorkel action.”

You snorted, “How did you manage to make that sound dirty? You’re lowkey such a dirty old man.”

“Old?” he feigned, “You didn’t call me old last night.”

“Touché.,” you said, admitting, “Last night was… I don’t know what to say.”

Toto turned and quirked an eyebrow, “That bad?”

“Shut up,” you said, playfully batting him on the shoulder before returning to massaging his muscled upper back, “You’re good and you know it.”

“You did tell me the sex on the yacht was the best you’d ever had.” He grinned, clearly enjoying this.

“Did I really?” you said, cringing slightly. “Well, top ten, I guess.”

“Ten?” he replied, grabbing your hand and dragging it down his chest, getting dangerously lower.

“Okay, top five,” you said, your breath quickening as you sensed where this was heading.

“That’s more like it,” he said, turning his head slightly to catch your eye. “But seriously, you should know that I felt the same way.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth that had little to do with the sauna. “High praise coming from someone so… old,” you replied with a teasing lilt.

His eyes glinted with mischief as he replied, “Old enough to know a good thing when I see it.”

Before you could respond, he pulled you around into his lap, capturing your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. When he finally pulled back, you both took a moment to breathe, your foreheads resting against each other. “Wow,” he said, his voice husky. “I could get used to that.”

You giggled softly, pressing your bare chest against his, feeling his heart pounding as much as yours was, “Me too.”

As you dipped for another kiss, laughter echoed from outside the sauna. In the heat of the moment you’d forgotten that the sauna was open to all.

“Great,” Toto murmured, rolling his eyes.

“I told you we should’ve brought the drinks!” Sam’s voice rang out, followed by Darren’s cheerful agreement. “Gotta stay hydrated.”

As they approached the door, you could hear them debating whether to just walk in. “Hold up, where did Toto go?” Darren suggested, his voice growing louder.

“Maybe we should put the towels back on?” you whispered to Toto, glancing down at your bare skin, feeling a rush of shyness wash over you.

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, gripping your ass firmly, “but where’s the fun in that?” He looked at you with a glimmer of mischief, pulling you closer to him, covering your modesty with his hands, “I won’t let them see anything.”

Suddenly, the door swung open and Sam and Darren burst in, eyes wide with surprise. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed, “Sorry to interrupt!”

“Yeah,” Darren added, his face furiously red before he span around dramatically, “We’ll come back later.”

You quickly reached for your towel, as Toto shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “We were just enjoying the heat. No big deal.”

“Right,” Sam said, desperately looking anywhere but in front of him. “We’ll just grab a drink and give you some space. Would you like anything?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up even more, glancing at Toto, who was doing his best to keep a straight face. “We’re okay for now,” you replied, still smiling but feeling the warmth of embarrassment.

“Suit yourselves,” Sam said, stumbling as he turned to head back outside. “Sorry again boss.”

As the door swung shut, Toto looked at you, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. “Well, that was a great way to kill the mood.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, carefully lifting yourself off Toto’s lap and returning to your seat beside him, “I suppose we’ll have to pick up where we left off later?”

“Definitely,” he said, his eyes twinkling with promise.

You settled back onto the bench, rewrapped your towel and leaned your head on his shoulder, letting the gentle steam of the sauna envelop you both. So much for a moment alone, but you knew that you’d have time later that evening.

SATURDAY EVENING

Dinner that night was a lively affair, the long wooden table filled with laughter and the rich aroma of fondue. The fire crackled in the background, adding warmth to the room. Marion and John, ever the social butterflies, kept the conversation flowing smoothly, while Greta and Klaus flitted around the table, ensuring the wine glasses were constantly topped up.

Sam and Darren, who were usually more vocal, sat noticeably quieter across from you and Toto. You caught their occasional glances and exchanged a knowing look with Toto, both of you aware of what was on their minds.

Once dinner plates were cleared away, Marion stood up with a gleam in her eye. "Earlier, Toto suggested a games night!" she announced, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm. "And as you all know, I love a good wager. How about we start with charades?"

Excited murmurs spread through the group. Greta handed out pens and paper and soon the room filled with the sound of scribbling as everyone jotted down increasingly ridiculous charade suggestions. You glanced at Toto, wondering if he had something difficult planned for his picks. He caught your eye and winked, of course, he wouldn’t make this easy.

As the group settled in, Marion distributed a bowl for everyone to drop their slips of paper into. Just as you were about to dive into the game, Marion, her voice tinged with mischief, turned to the group, her eyes landing on George. “You know, this reminds me of that night on Toto’s yacht when we played Never Have I Ever,” she said with a grin.

John perked up immediately. “Ah yes, that was quite a night,” he said. You gulped as you recalled George taking things too far that night.

George immediately shifted in his seat, already knowing where this was headed. His cheeks flushed as Marion continued, unable to resist. “George, you were so embarrassed!” she teased, nudging him. “What was it you said during that game that had everyone in stitches?”

James chimed in, his grin widening. “Something about walking in on Toto in the garage in a, let’s say, compromising position.”

George’s face turned bright red as everyone started to chuckle, “I was tipsy, alright? I said more than I should’ve,” he muttered, clearly still embarrassed from that particular memory. “Sorry again Toto.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Toto reassured him, trying to stay stoic.

At that, Darren and Sam exchanged a look and Sam couldn’t resist joining in the teasing. “Speaking of compromising positions,” he said, leaning back in his chair, a smirk spreading across his face. “Darren and I had quite the walk-in moment earlier today.”

“Oh no,” you murmured under your breath, feeling the heat rise to your face as you realized where this was going. It was your turn to be embarrassed.

Sam leaned in, his voice low but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Let’s just say we walked in on Toto… in a very compromising situation.”

Darren snickered. “Yeah, in the sauna of all places.”

All eyes turned toward you and Toto as a ripple of nervous laughter spread across the group. Sam and Darren were younger members of the team and it was rather bold of them to tease their boss in his own home.

Toto's face tightened and his jaw clenched slightly, “Sam...” he warned.

Sam, undeterred, kept going. “Oh, don’t worry, Toto wasn’t alone.” He winked at the group, his grin only growing wider.

“Oh?” John said, sparking up, clearly enjoying where this was headed.

Darren laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, turns out the sauna wasn’t just for relaxing, if you know what I mean.”

The group erupted into laughter, Marion gasped in mock shock, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Toto! And here I thought you were the gentleman of the group.”

Sam, encouraged by the reactions, waggled his eyebrows and added, “You should’ve seen his face. The man was living his best life.”

George glowered, throwing you an angry look before Elisa tapped him on the arm, whispering something in his ear that seemed to calm him down, as she did earlier.

Toto, his patience visibly thinning, folded his arms, his voice low and sharp. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Sam and Darren exchanged a glance, still amused but sensing they were treading on thin ice. “Okay, okay,” Darren said, holding his hands up, “But you can’t blame us, you did say we could use the sauna any time.”

“Yeah, next time maybe put a do not disturb sign?” Sam quipped, though his voice had softened, knowing they’d pushed Toto to his limit.

“Or a Mercedes-branded tie over the door handle,” said George, joining in with his friends, having stayed quiet until now. You shot him a look and he shrugged, not worried about angering Toto.

Toto shot the three younger men a hard look before leaning back in his chair, clearly done with their teasing. “I’ll remember that for next time,” he said flatly, his voice edged with annoyance.

Marion, sensing the tension, tried to keep the situation light-hearted. “Oh, you three,” she said, shaking her head at Sam, Darren and George. “Let them have their fun in peace.”

“Alright, alright, we’ll drop it,” Sam said, suitably chastised.

“Well then,” John jumped up, clapping his hands, “I think we’ve embarrassed enough people for one night. Shall we get on with charades?”

Everyone eagerly shifted their focus back to the impending game of charades, following John’s lead as he moved to the living room.

“We’ll split into two teams,” Marion announced, “Who’s ready to make a fool of themselves?”

The group quickly divided into teams and took their places on opposite sofas. It was men vs women, with you, Cara, Marion and Elisa teaming up against Toto, George, John, James, Sam and Darren.

“Hang on, I think the boys have an advantage!” said Marion, reaching out to grab her husband by the crook of his arm, “John joins us.”

John shrugged his shoulders before plopping himself down on the sofa beside his wife, “Sorry guys, I have no choice.”

“That’s okay, we’ll still win.” said James, “Cara is an automatic handicap.”

“You are awful, you’re sleeping on the balcony tonight” quipped Cara, throwing her husband a dirty look.

– – –

During a lull in the game, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, grabbing another bottle of wine for the group, Greta and Klaus having gone to bed for the night. The soft sound of footsteps behind you made you turn and there was George, standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning against the counter.

“Hey,” you replied, suddenly feeling like you were back in the past, caught in a moment that didn’t quite fit the present. George had been giving you funny looks all evening but Elisa had been glued to him so you hadn’t spoken much.

There was an awkward pause before George finally spoke again. “So, I guess this is really happening, huh?”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

He glanced towards the doorway leading back to the others, then back at you. His voice lowered, more serious now. “You and Toto. It’s serious, isn’t it?”

The question landed heavily between you, far weightier than it should’ve been. The conversation felt loaded, fraught with things left unsaid. You thought you’d been clear when you last spoke in your flat, and you both had supposedly made peace with the past. Now, it seemed like old wounds were still festering beneath the surface.

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “George… we’ve been through this.”

“I know,” he said quickly, cutting you off with a sigh. He shoved his hands into his pockets as if bracing himself. “But seeing you two. I don’t know. Guess I thought I’d be more okay with it by now.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them pulling you both into an uncomfortable silence. This wasn’t fair, to you or to him. You’d thought that chapter was closed and he’d moved on with Elisa, even if their dynamic was a little strange at times.

Before you could respond, Toto appeared in the doorway, his expression sharp as he took in the scene. “Everything okay in here?”

The air between the three of you crackled with tension.

George straightened, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

Toto’s eyes didn’t leave George’s face. “Good,” he said coolly. “Look, I know this has not been easy for anyone but we are all adults and you have Elisa now, don’t forget. I invited you here because I want things to be easier going forward, for all of us. And for what it’s worth, I value your friendship, George. I know I’ve let you down.”

George didn’t back down, but after a tense beat, he gave a curt nod, not saying a word and walked past Toto, brushing his shoulder as he went. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Toto turned to you, his expression softening. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, though the knot in your chest hadn’t fully loosened. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

He studied your face for a moment longer, as if searching for something unsaid before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered for a beat longer than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You didn’t ask what he was apologising for, whether it was for inviting George, for the difficult position you were both in or for the emotions this trip had stirred up. Maybe it was all of it.

– – –

The night wound down with everyone in good spirits, but you couldn’t shake the weirdness of the conversation in the kitchen with George. After the games and the laughter, you found yourself in the bedroom with Toto, tucked up in bed while he got ready.

“Do you think that George still has feelings for me?” you asked as Toto made his way out of the bathroom.

He didn’t react at first, remaining silent as he pulled back the covers and slipped in beside you, his expression unreadable as he rested against the headboard. “I know he does,” he said quietly.

You looked at him, waiting for more, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Toto…” you began, the words coming out before you could stop them. “Does it bother you?”

He sighed, finally turning to face you, “It doesn’t bother me that he has feelings for you,” he said after a moment. “But it bothers me that you seem worried about it.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say.

“I trust you,” Toto added, his tone calm but firm. “But if George’s feelings are going to be an issue, we need to deal with it..”

You nodded, appreciating his straightforwardness. “You’re right. I just… I didn’t expect it to be this complicated.”

“Life’s always complicated,” he said, “But we’ll figure it out.”

You turned away from Toto, your back to him, lost in thought. It wasn’t long before you felt him wrap an arm around you, pulling you close, but the warmth that usually comforted you felt different tonight. There was an unspoken tension and as sleep slowly crept in, you wondered if this was just the beginning of something much more complicated.

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party @noooway555 @annewithaneofthegreengable @xoscar03 @totowolfffcheco @justzluv @kravitzwhore @bborra @a-beaverhausen@amandadesantasworld @formulaal

#toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #toto wolff x y/n #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #george russell x reader #George Russell x you #yachtgirlsummer

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seonghwaddict · 2 years ago

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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 001 ] over my dead body.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. suggestive comments, swearing, wooyoung being an annoying piece of shit. word count. 1.1k

　　　　　　　　chapter i // chapter ii

"The groups have already been decided and the list can be found on the bulletin outside. See you all next week." And with that, your professor walked out of the studio and left your classmates scrambling to get out of class and find the list.

All things considered, your day could have been worse. Yes, you'd gone to bed at 5 am and woken up at 7 to your housemate blasting music in the bathroom as she showered. Though, that was a daily occurrence, being mad over it just didn't make sense anymore. Yes, when you got into the shower and turned on the water without paying attention to the heat dial, you pretty much burned off your skin. Yes, on the way to the art department you had dropped one of the paintings you've been working on for over a month, getting mud all over the bottom half of the artwork.

But, nevertheless, it could've been a lot worse.

As you gathered the used paintbrushes next to your easel, you thought about who could be your partner for this collaborative project with the dance majors. Professor Yun just spent about ten minutes informing you and your peers that the art majors were to pair up with a dance major to create an artwork. The specifics—such as whether it'll be a painting or collage or other media—were completely up to the students.

You holstered your bag on your shoulder, finally leaving the art studio to see who you were paired with. Maybe it'll be Suncha, possibly the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. You could definitely see yourself working with her. She moved with grace and would probably be the best subject you could ever wish for. Maybe Daehyun—you'd always found his face and body aesthetically pleasing.

The crowd in front of the bullet slowly dissipated and people found their partners in the crowd, already making conversation and talking about the project. With a slight sense of dread but a pinch of anticipation, you stepped up to the list and scanned it, quickly finding your name next to-

Oh you've got to be kidding me.

Nevermind, this was definitely one of the worst days you'd ever experienced. Because right next to your name, stood a name associated with one of the eight most sought-after men on your campus.

Jung Wooyoung.

They'd never done anything to you personally, but you just weren't a fan of the way they'd go from girl to girl without being ashamed or being called out. Granted, you weren't sure if all eight of them behaved like that (though this particular Jung Wooyoung did), you still disliked them (except for one of them, but you'd never admit that). Maybe it was how they were practically handed everything they needed at any given moment on a silver tray. Or how ridiculously good looking they were. Either way, something about them just felt... off.

An arm being slung over your shoulder broke you out of your thoughts of just ending your life right then and there. Without even looking at the person, you already had a suspicion of who it could be.

"Hey there, partner," He stepped in front of you, hand lingering on your shoulder for a second longer than you'd like. A mischievous smile graced his features, "I don't think I've ever talked to you. What's your name, pretty?"

"It's on the paper right behind you." You deadpanned, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

For a second, Wooyoung's eyes hardened before that playful glint returned. "I know, but I'd like to hear you say it. After all, I don't want to be pronouncing it wrong."

With a sigh, you gave him your name and he repeated it, testing the sound of it on his tongue. Seemingly satisfied, he returned to your side with a hum and once again slung his arm over your shoulders, steering you toward the exit of the arts department and practically dragging you with him.

Along the way, you passed multiple clusters of girls and boys, some of them watching Wooyoung with admiration and lust in their eyes while others simply glared at you out of jealousy. Feeling their stares, your head turned to the ground and you screwed your eyes shut, wishing it was Daehyun dragging you. Not this painfully pretty, charming man that you couldn't stand.

"So," Wooyoung started—though he never really stopped talking, "I was thinking, if you don't have any courses or stuff for the rest of the day, you can come over to my place and we can start working on whatever it is we have to do."

"I told my roommate I'd be back early to clean our apartment."

"Oh, then I can come with you, help you and then you can come to my place."

"Why not just do it at my place?"

"That's fine, too. Maybe you can show me to your bedroom?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you had to hold back the urge to smack him right then and there.

"Over my dead body."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not really into necrophilia."

It was then that you noticed you were walking towards the campus' parking lot. You stopped in your tracks and waited for Wooyoung to turn.

"Ok, first of all, what the fuck. But I guess I'm glad that's not your thing. Second, what are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

He blinked. Once, twice. "I'm taking you to my car...?"

"Why?"

"To take you to my place so we can work?" He looked behind him and then back to you, his dark hair bouncing around and revealing the bleached layers underneath.

"But I have stuff to do." You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to your right leg as you looked up at him. He wasn't that much taller, but because of his proximity, it was hard to look him in the eyes without craning your neck just a bit.

A chuckle (though it sounded more like a giggle) escaped him. "The dishes and vacuum can wait. I'm only available for the next two hours, after that you're free to do whatever you want."

You took a second to mull things over before dropping your head and groaning. "Fine but–"

"Great!" Wooyoung grabbed your hand and resumed pulling you across the parking lot. "Let's get going, maybe the food Seonghwa-hyung made will still be warm when we get there and–"

"Wait!" You tugged on the hand that held yours harshly, making him stop to look back at you with a raised brow. "But... no funny business. Please."

He let out another high pitched laugh. "Oh, YN, my dearest darling YN, I don't plan on doing anything like that with you. Today, at least. Though if you'd like-"

"No!" You extended a hand to stop him from finishing that sentence, cheeks blushing dark crimson. "Please just- just lead the way."

That specific mischievous grin returned to his face as he whipped around and practically skipped to his black Mercedes with tinted windows. You didn't stop to appreciate the car, getting into the passengers seat and strapping the seatbelt on.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!! any guess as to who the ateez member is that YN likes more than the others? hint: it's not wooyoung. also, i'm basing each of the mebers' looks off of different eras. in case you couldn't tell, we will be dealing with oreo wooyoung here.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @r1kitti @sarahleighflora @kyukyustar

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

#★ NEVER SAY NEVER — seonghwaddict #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #vampire au #college au #fluff #eventual smut

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kc-writes-sometimes · 2 months ago

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Crown and Kin | Chapter Eight

Ao3 Account | Masterlist

Chapter Eight: Revelations

(Daemon’s POV)

Word Count: 3,513

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Summary: Daemon navigates the growing complexities of fatherhood and his place in the ever-changing Red Keep. The delicate balance between duty and personal desire becomes clear as old alliances and hidden truths come to light. Daella, now embraced as a Targaryen, faces a new chapter in her life, while Daemon finds himself torn between his past and the responsibilities that come with his newfound role.

Themes & Warnings: 18+, Character Death, Rape/Non Con, Future Smut, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Incest, Angst, Dad Daemon Targaryen, Bastards and Brothels, Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Team Black Centric, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance

↞ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ↠

Daemon Targaryen

“Is it not bedtime for you too?" Daella asked, her head tilted in confusion as she gazed up at Daemon, her violet eyes reflecting the dim light of the chamber.

Daemon smiled faintly, catching the quizzical look on her young face. There was something about the innocence of a child’s question that had the power to pierce through the world’s weight. “Not for me,” he replied, his voice firm yet laced with the warmth that had grown in him since Daella entered his life. “I have business outside the Keep. You’ll be fine, little one. A guard will be stationed right outside the door if you need anything. Now, get some rest.”

She continued to stare up at him with wide eyes, still unsure, as if sensing there was more to his late-night departure. Daemon hesitated for a brief moment, feeling the tug of something unfamiliar: the urge to stay. It gnawed at him, but duty—an old, familiar companion—called louder.

He leaned over and tucked a strand of dark silver hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her warm skin. She didn’t flinch away, her trust in him already unspoken and complete. He stood back up, his towering figure momentarily casting a shadow over the oversized bed before he turned toward the door. The heavy wooden frame creaked as he closed it, but his hand lingered on the handle for a moment longer than necessary. His mind was awash in thoughts of her—no longer just a bastard girl from Flea Bottom, but his daughter. His blood.

They had been sharing his childhood chambers ever since Daella’s arrival at the Red Keep. It had been his idea to keep her close—he told himself it was simply for convenience, but the truth ran deeper. He found comfort in her presence, watching over her as she slept, the rise and fall of her little form under thick blankets a reminder of how fragile and important she had become to him. It was an unfamiliar feeling, this quiet protectiveness, but it had rooted itself firmly in him.

Fatherhood had a way of creeping up on even the most untamed of men. Daemon, known for his reckless abandon and disregard for attachments, now found himself caring for this little girl more than he had ever anticipated. She had become the single tether in a life that had long been untethered.

These chambers had always been his refuge from the swirling politics of the Red Keep, a place he had once found solace. Now, they served as a barrier from the growing Hightower influence. Every day, the Keep felt less like the seat of Targaryen power and more like a fortress of the Faith. Alicent’s grip on Viserys—and the Keep itself—was tightening, and despite Otto’s removal, her presence had only grown stronger. The Faith of the Seven had crept into every corner, displacing the symbols of Old Valyria. The walls, once adorned with dragons, were slowly being overtaken by depictions of the Seven’s icons. It was as if the very soul of the Red Keep was being eroded.

Daemon clenched his fists as he made his way through the corridors. His boots struck the cold stone floor with sharp, measured steps, each echo a reminder of the battle that was being fought within the Keep’s walls—a battle without swords or blood, but one that was just as dangerous. The few servants still awake lowered their heads as he passed, avoiding eye contact with the Rogue Prince, their wariness a reflection of his simmering temper.

Once outside, the cool night air hit his face, offering a momentary reprieve from the tension knotted in his chest. He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp breeze fill his lungs. For a moment, he stood still, gazing up at the moon as it hung high over King’s Landing, casting long shadows across the sleeping city. The streets below, though quieter at this hour, still thrummed with life—merchants peddling their last wares of the day, shadowy figures slinking through alleys, the distant clang of the harbour.

He tightened his cloak around him as he moved through the streets, his silver hair hidden beneath the black hood. To most, he was just another shadow slipping through the night, but to those who recognized him, his presence was unmistakable. His reputation preceded him—the Rogue Prince, the Lord of Flea Bottom. Names earned through years of rebellion, of pushing against the chains of authority that tried to bind him.

But there was something different about him now. His steps were no less purposeful, but the fire that had always driven him was tempered by something new. He was no longer just a man acting on his own whims; he had a daughter, a child who was both his responsibility and his legacy.

Daella.

Her name repeated itself in his mind, a steady rhythm that beat in time with his footsteps. The thought of her stirred emotions he had long buried. Fatherhood was not something he had ever sought out. He had lived his life without attachments, without ties to anyone or anything. But now, everything had shifted. She was his, and that simple fact had rearranged the very fabric of his life.

The familiar streets of Silk soon came into view, the tension in his body winding tighter as he neared his destination. He had not felt this particular brand of tension in some time. Mysaria awaited him—the White Worm. She had been many things to him over the years: lover, confidant, spy. Her network of whispers had proven invaluable more times than he cared to count, but lately, something had changed. There was a distance between them now, a suspicion that had begun to fester ever since Daella’s presence had been made known to him. Had Mysaria known? Had she kept the secret from him all these years?

Daemon’s thoughts burned with the question as he neared her compound. The White Worm had always known more than she revealed, her words laced with riddles and half-truths. But now, with Daella in his life, the stakes were higher. If Mysaria had known about Daella—had hidden it from him—there would be a reckoning.

As he approached the dimly lit entrance to her chambers, the guards at the door said nothing as he passed, their silence expected. They had seen him come and go too many times to question his presence.

Inside, the familiar scent of incense and spice greeted him, a mixture that clung to the air, heavy and intoxicating. Mysaria’s chambers were draped in silk, the flickering light of candles casting long shadows across the room. She was there, waiting for him, draped in her customary white, her pale face framed by the soft glow of the candles.

"Daemon," she purred, her Lysene accent curling seductively around his name. She reclined on a low couch, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "You’ve come late tonight. What is it you seek from me?"

Daemon’s gaze was sharp, his patience worn thin. "You know why I’m here."

Her smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps—in her eyes. "There are many things I know, Prince. You’ll need to be more specific."

Daemon moved faster than she anticipated, his hand shooting out to grip her throat, pulling her close with a force that left no room for games. "Don’t play games with me, Mysaria," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Did you know about Daella? Did you know I had a daughter?"

The tension in the room thickened, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. Mysaria didn’t flinch, her dark eyes holding his without fear, though his grip tightened around her throat. "I knew there was a girl," she rasped, her voice just above a whisper. "But I did not know she was yours. Not at first."

Daemon’s eyes narrowed, his fingers pressing harder against her neck. "You’re lying."

"I’m not," she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady. "I didn’t know her parentage until recently."

With a sharp shove, Daemon released her, sending her sprawling back onto the cushions. He paced the room, his mind racing with the implications of her words. How many people had known the truth before him? How had it been hidden for so long?

Mysaria rubbed her throat, her eyes flickering with irritation, though her voice remained calm. "Daella was hidden well. Elyse kept her secret, and I only pieced it together when she was dead."

"Elyse," Daemon muttered, the name cutting through the air like a blade. "What did you know about her?"

Mysaria’s expression flickered, a brief moment of hesitation crossing her face before it vanished. "Elyse… was more than she appeared," she said slowly, her words carefully measured. "‘Elyse’ wasn’t even her real name. That was just the name she adopted when she came to King’s Landing."

Daemon’s brow furrowed, confusion tightening his features. "Then who was she?"

Mysaria sighed, leaning back into the cushions with a faraway look in her eyes. "I don’t know. She was secretive about her past. Our bond wasn’t built on trust, Daemon—it was born out of survival." Her fingers smoothed the silk of her dress absently before she turned her gaze back to him. "Did she ever tell you where she was from?"

"She said she was born in Dorne," Daemon answered, his voice tight, controlled. "A bastard. That’s all she told me."

A faint, knowing smile touched Mysaria’s lips, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken. "Dorne? No, but close. She was born in Volantis. And she wasn’t just any Volantene bastard, Daemon."

Daemon’s hand instinctively moved to the hilt of Dark Sister, his pulse quickening. "What are you implying?"

Mysaria’s tone softened, her voice more thoughtful now. "Did you never wonder why her hair and eyes were so… familiar? Did her manner never strike you as peculiar? The way she always had silver coins for the City Watch?" Her eyes watched him closely, as if trying to read his every reaction. "Both you and your brother saw something in her."

Daemon’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. Elyse had always been a mystery, a puzzle he never bothered to solve. She had been beautiful, and he had enjoyed their time together, but she hadn’t mattered to him beyond that. Until now. Now, she was the mother of his child—his legacy.

"What are you saying?" he demanded, his voice low, though the question was more for himself than Mysaria.

"She was more than a simple woman from Volantis," Mysaria continued, her gaze never leaving his. "I don’t know the full story, but there were whispers that she had connections to families of influence"

"Enough, Mysaria!" Daemon barked, his voice filled with frustration as he resumed pacing, his boots echoing against the stone floor. The flickering candlelight cast jagged shadows on the walls, mirroring the chaos in his mind. "I don’t have time for your riddles. Speak plainly!"

Mysaria’s eyes followed him, her expression calm but unyielding. "Elyse wasn’t a common whore, Daemon," she said, her voice steady as she leaned back, watching his every move. "There were whispers before she started dying her hair—whispers that she was of Valyrian blood."

Daemon froze, the weight of her words settling over him like a heavy cloak. How had he not seen it? The dark silver hair, the striking purple eyes—traits Daella now bore. He should have known. Perhaps, on some level, he did. Perhaps he just didn’t care. After all, one silver-haired whore was as good as another in King’s Landing.

His fists clenched at his sides, his anger surging through him like wildfire. "Why didn’t she tell me any of this?" he muttered, more to himself than to Mysaria. "Why keep Daella from me?"

Mysaria tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes softening just a touch. "I can’t answer that for certain, but perhaps she feared what it would mean for Daella—for you. Perhaps Elyse thought it best to keep Daella hidden, to raise her as a child should be raised, away from the prying eyes of the court. She didn’t want Daella used as a pawn."

Daemon let out a bitter laugh, though the sound was devoid of humour. "And look where that got her. Dead. And Daella? A scared, lonely child living in the squalor of a brothel, so terrified that when the maid washed the dye out of her hair she nearly ripped her own hair out." His voice grew harsher, the bitterness seeping into every word. "You could have told me this sooner. You could have done something! You could have let me help her."

Mysaria’s eyes hardened at his accusation. "And what would you have done, Daemon? Elyse feared what your involvement would bring. She didn’t want Daella to live in the shadow of your name. She didn’t want her past or yours to devour the child."

Daemon spun toward her, his eyes blazing with anger. "I could’ve saved her!" His voice broke, just for a moment. "I could’ve kept Elyse alive."

Mysaria held his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the weight of the secrets she had kept. "Would it have changed anything, Daemon?" she asked quietly, her tone almost regretful. "Elyse made her choices."

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his fury simmering beneath the surface. Elyse’s secrets—the ones Mysaria had revealed and the ones that had died with her—no longer mattered. What mattered now was Daella. His daughter.

"Daella is my daughter," Daemon muttered fiercely, his voice low but resolute. "Whatever blood runs through her veins doesn’t change that."

Mysaria’s expression softened once more, her familiar tone slipping back into place. "Be careful, Daemon. The past has a way of catching up to all of us."

Daemon stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "If you’ve kept anything else from me, anything at all, you won’t live long enough to regret it."

Mysaria met his gaze, the tension between them taut as a drawn bowstring. "I’ve told you what I know," she said evenly, her tone calm yet unyielding.

For a long moment, Daemon’s eyes lingered on hers, the weight of unspoken threats thick in the air. But he said nothing more. With one final, cold glance, he turned and stormed out of her chambers, the door slamming shut behind him. As he passed through the familiar streets, Mysaria’s compound fading into the distance, Daemon felt the weight of his life shifting. He had been the Rogue Prince for so long—untethered, wild, a force unto himself. But now, he was something more.

He was a father. A protector. A force to be reckoned with, not just for himself but for Daella. His daughter. His future.

By the time Daemon reached the Red Keep, the sun had already begun its slow rise over the city. The early morning light cast long shadows across the courtyard, and servants bustled about, preparing for the day. But Daemon moved through them with a newfound sense of purpose. Nothing—not the past, not the whispers, not even the enemies lurking in the shadows—would take Daella from him.

He could picture her now, awake and preparing for her first lesson. He had arranged for the Maester to begin teaching her High Valyrian, as every true Targaryen should learn. Soon, she would know how to read, how to write, how to stitch and play music. She would learn the history of their house, the names of the great lords, and the powers they wielded. And one day, when the time came, he would teach her to ride a dragon and hold a sword, just as he did.

As Daemon walked through the gardens, heading toward his chambers, he spotted Rhaenyra in her usual spot beneath the weirwood tree. She sat with a heavy tome in her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration.

His footsteps were almost silent as he approached, though Rhaenyra, sharp as ever, glanced up from her book. Her violet eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sharp as it landed on him.

"Back so soon, uncle?" Rhaenyra’s voice cut through the quiet of the Godswood, her tone laced with sarcasm, though beneath it was a softer edge, almost teasing.

Daemon smirked, but didn’t respond immediately. His eyes lingered on her, taking in the way the morning light caught in her hair, making it gleam like molten silver. Even in the simplicity of the Godswood, she looked regal, carrying herself with a natural majesty that both captivated and irritated him. She reminded him too much of himself.

"I had business to attend to," he finally replied, his voice neutral, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. A subtle tension simmered beneath his words, one she hadn’t heard before. "Not that it’s any concern of yours."

Rhaenyra closed the book resting on her lap, setting it aside gently as she met his gaze, her eyes sharp, searching. She could read him too well, sensing the storm beneath his calm exterior. "And what business was so pressing that it kept you out all night?" Her voice was light, but her eyes—hard, inquisitive—demanded answers.

Daemon’s lips curled into a sly grin. "You know me, Rhaenyra. I don’t answer to anyone."

"Not even my father?" she shot back, her tone sharpening like a blade. "Or is it just me you feel the need to play games with?"

The tension between them, simmering for so long, flared like fire meeting oil. Daemon’s smirk faded, his expression darkening as he stepped closer, looming over her. She remained seated under the weirwood, regal and unmoved, but his presence was undeniable.

"Viserys has always been weak," Daemon said, his voice low, heated. "And you—"

"What about me?" Rhaenyra interrupted, rising to her feet, her book forgotten as she faced him. "Do you think me weak, uncle?"

For a moment, the Godswood fell silent, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Daemon’s eyes flashed with something unspoken—longing, regret, or perhaps both. He had always been drawn to her, admiring her fire, her defiance. Yet the distance between them had grown wider, especially since that night in the city.

"You’re far from weak," Daemon said at last, his voice softer now, though the roughness remained. "But you’re playing a dangerous game, Rhaenyra. One you’re not ready for."

Rhaenyra scoffed, her eyes blazing with defiance. "And you think you know everything, don't you? You think you can decide what I'm ready for?" She stepped closer, her chin tilted upward, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—hurt, frustration. "Do you think I didn’t know what I was doing that night?"

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his gaze locking with hers. "You were a girl playing at being a woman, Rhaenyra. You didn’t understand what you were stepping into."

Rhaenyra’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I understood more than you give me credit for," she shot back, her voice trembling slightly, though she stood firm. "You didn’t force me to do anything. I wanted to see your world. I wanted to be free."

"Free?" Daemon echoed, his voice a low growl, almost a sneer. "You’ll never be free, Rhaenyra. Not as long as you’re tied to the Iron Throne."

"And neither will you," she snapped, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "You may pretend you don't care—that you're some rogue prince who doesn’t need the throne—but I see you, Daemon. You're just as trapped as the rest of us."

Daemon’s eyes flickered with something dark, something dangerous, as he stepped closer. His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Perhaps," he admitted, "but I know how to bend the rules when it suits me."

Rhaenyra held her ground, her breath quickening as he loomed over her. She could feel the heat of his body, the scent of smoke and leather clinging to him. For a brief, reckless moment, Rhaenyra reached out, brushing her fingers against his chest, her touch light, almost daring. Daemon’s hand shot up, catching her wrist in a firm yet controlled grip. His eyes bore into hers, a smirk tugging at his lips once again.

"You shouldn’t provoke me, niece," he whispered, his voice rough, filled with a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine.

Rhaenyra’s lips parted, her defiance wavering as the fire between them burned hotter. "And what will you do if I do?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.

Daemon’s grip on her wrist tightened, just enough to remind her of his strength. He leaned in ever so slightly, their faces mere inches apart. His breath was warm against her skin, his presence overwhelming, and the tension between them reached its breaking point.

"Father?"

The voice was small, hesitant, cutting through the charged moment like a splash of cold water. Daemon turned sharply, releasing Rhaenyra’s wrist as he looked toward the source.

Daella stood a few feet away, her violet eyes wide with confusion as they flicked between Daemon and Rhaenyra. Her dark silver hair cascaded around her shoulders, and she seemed so small, so innocent, standing there in the soft light of the Godswood.

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year ago

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{11} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour, Smut

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Wooyoung)

Words: 20,320

Warnings: Overstimulation, Face Sitting - Oral (fem. rec.), Wooyoung has a long tongue (think venom), OC gets a Lap Dance/Striptease, Dragon Dick (briefly), Switch Tendencies (from both of them), Massive Dirty Talk, Mirror Sex (technically speaking), Wall Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Praise, Wings (Does this count as Monster Fucking? I'm counting it as Monster Fucking), so much EMOTION, Mental Illness. PTSD: mentions of past trauma and allusions to past violence, anxiety, depression. I think that's everything This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I do really hope you all enjoy this, as it turned out WAY longer than I ever anticipated. I do highly recommend listening to the songs mentioned in this chapter when they appear to get the full effect. Yeah... so... Wooyoung Stans, come get y'all juice, this man is one kinky mf... Also, he's a demon, so he CAN lift you, shush. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten

You don’t know how long you remain in the music room for, but by the time the sun is in the opposite corner of the sky, you can feel your stomach churning with hunger. You wager it’s now about mid-afternoon, Kuroo having left some time ago as you had continued to play different melodies on the piano.

Yeosang had stayed with you for a little while, simply content to listen to you play as he gently stroked a hand over Kuroo’s fur. Of course, he was a little disgruntled when Yunho pulled him away with Mingi to spar with them for the afternoon. He had been quite enjoying this time with you far too much for his own good.

Listening to you play is a dream come true. All that’s really left to do is play with you.

Now, as you begin to make your way out of the music room, you can feel the effect of not having eaten anything since breakfast this morning. Your hands are a little shaky, and you’re a little lightheaded. Your back is a little stiff from sitting on the piano bench for so long, too, but you haven’t felt this good in weeks. There’s a new lightness to each step you take, and you feel as if you could do anything right now.

Faintly, you can hear music coming from the dance studio as you walk by, and you risk a glance inside. The door remains closed, but the window does not obstruct your view of Wooyoung sitting on the floor. It appears as if he’s currently doing some stretches.

At the way his head darts up, gaze shifting towards the reflection of the door in the mirror, you’re quick to scurry down the hallway.

You feel a small heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head. Food first, then maybe, just maybe, you’ll finally brave the dance studio. Even so much as standing outside of it with the door open will be enough for you today. Despite how good you’re feeling, you don’t want to push yourself too far.

Reaching the kitchen, you’re quick to make yourself something to eat. A glass of water is placed beside you, refilling the cup once you’re finished. After a quick clean up, you stretch your back out one more time, cracking your neck while you’re at it.

This time, when you step out into the hallway, the music from the dance studio sounds the slightest bit louder. Though, it’s nothing compared to the sound of your racing heart.

Briefly, that horrid day with Miyeon flashes through your mind, and you take a deep breath.

You pause, shuffling from foot to foot with that glass of water held tightly in your hands. You cling onto it as you stare down into the clear liquid, worrying your bottom lip in the process. Then, in a moment of clarity, you steel your nerves, slowly traversing down the hallway once more.

She cannot hurt you anymore.

You discover that the reason the music sounds louder than before is because the door to the studio has now been left opened. It seems as if Wooyoung needed some fresh air.

The water in that glass sways slightly as your hand trembles. It’s barely noticeable, except for the way the level tips back and forth just beneath the rim of the glass.

You swallow your nerves, keeping your gaze so intently focussed on that cup for the moment. That is, until finally, you risk looking up.

Subconsciously, you shuffle forward to get a better glance at the male inside. Your lips part, and your breath catches in your throat as your eyes widen the slightest bit in awe. You don’t even realize you’ve leant yourself against the doorframe, the trembling in your hands stopping as the dancing male before you completely enraptures you for the time being.

He seems to be dancing some sort of contemporary choreography. Each extension of his body, such as the reaching of his arms in the air as if he’s desperately attempting to grasp onto something that keeps slipping through his fingers, is mesmerizing. You cannot even help the slight awe filled gasp that catches in your throat as he leaps through the air, his legs kicking out in succession behind him as his body twists elegantly with every movement.

You don’t recognize the song playing through the speakers, but just from the way he moves, you can tell that it means a lot to him. His eyes are closed as he loses himself to the music, and as the final notes ring out, you swear you see a single tear trail a path down the side of his cheek.

The only sound that now fills the silence of the room is his heavy breathing. His chest heaves as he remains in his final pose, his head tilted towards the floor with his back slightly slouched as he stands there looking almost defeated. His bright red hair, of which you noticed he changed only the other day, is pushed back from his face, a few stray strands framing his forehead as they begin to cling to his skin with sweat.

You take a moment to trail your gaze over him, observing him carefully. He wears a loosely fitted button up, a light blue in colour almost reminiscent of a denim material. The sleeves are rolled up halfway, showcasing his forearms. Light grey sweatpants with black and white stripes running down either side seem to cover his legs, yet his feet remain bare.

Blinking your eyes back into focus, you lift your head.

The first thing you notice is that Wooyoung seems to have shifted his gaze from the floor. Though, that’s not what catches you off guard. No, it’s the fact that he’s already looking directly at you in the reflection of the mirror as if he cannot believe his very eyes.

He turns almost instantly as soon as you meet his stunned stare in the mirror, the movement frantic and rushed. It’s as if he believes that he’s imagining things, and that once he turns to get a proper look at the entrance to the dance studio, you’ll no longer be there.

You can’t be standing there. It’s just another figment of his imagination from all of the times that he’s fantasized about this happening. It just isn’t possible.

The instant he sees that you’re still there, and that his vision is not playing tricks on him, he freezes. You can physically hear the hitch in his breath as his whole body stills, his wide eyes never leaving your figure for even one second.

He blinks. Once. Twice. Then, he’s swallowing thickly, his throat bobbing with the movement.

His lips part as if he wishes to say something, but no words escape him.

Honestly, he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing right now, and scaring you away. This is the first time he’s seen you even acknowledge the dance studio in weeks, and he doesn’t want to ruin this moment for all it’s worth. Even if this is all he gets, he’ll take it, clinging onto this single memory like a lifeline after everything you’ve been through. A memory which he’ll cherish until the day he can truly show you his passions, and reclaim this room for the both of you.

The silence stretches on between you, and you notice the tips of his fingers beginning to shake. Not even a second later, he’s clinging onto the material of his sweats to ground himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he continues to think of something, anything, to say.

Taking a slow, steady breath in to calm your nerves, you beat him too it.

“Want some company?”

You swear you can physically see the tears of relief lining his eyes as his breath catches once more in his throat.

He swallows thickly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I would love nothing more.”

Before you can even so much as take a step forward, he’s in front of you. His hands go to reach out to you before stopping himself, hesitant in each one of his movements. He wants nothing more than to reassure you that he’s here, but he also doesn’t want to push you too far, too fast. This is already more than he could have ever hoped for, and the fact that you’re actually entering the dance studio of your own free will, that you want to be here, means more to him than you’ll ever know.

Cautiously, your eyes dart around the room, shifting from one corner to the next. Everything about the space has been fixed; not a spec remains from the incident about a month and a half ago, but the memories do. Memories which threaten to pull you back into your own head, reliving the horror as if for the first time.

A gentle hand is placed onto the side of your arm, and you jump, the touch having pulled you from your thoughts.

Wooyoung’s expression falls.

“I’ve got you, Angel.” He attempts a weak smile. “I promise I’ll never let anything hurt you in this space again.”

Finally, you lift your head to fully meet his gaze, offering him a comforting smile of your own. “I believe you.”

The hand he has placed onto the side of your arm squeezes you assuringly.

You take a moment to observe his features, noting the worried furrow of his brow as he watches you carefully. There’s even a small bead of sweat that rolls down the side of his temple, but he seems to not notice.

Your hand tightens subconsciously around the glass in your hand.

“Oh,” you blink, as if realizing something. “Here.”

Extending the glass out to him, you offer him your water.

Wordlessly, he takes the glass from your hand, a small tug of his lips upwards as he thanks you lowly. Not even a second later, he’s taking a small sip.

With both hands free, you gently clasp them in front of yourself, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you shift from foot to foot. Your gaze flits all around the room, shoulders tense as you stand there before him.

“Angel-“

Wooyoung’s worried tone gets cut off almost immediately by you.

“Can I-“ you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath in to steady your nerves. “I want to watch you dance.”

Wooyoung’s breath hitches for the nth time that day.

“Please, Wooyoung,” You blink your eyes open, meeting his wide eyed gaze. “Won’t you dance for me?”

Wooyoung swears his heart has stopped beating inside of his chest. This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. The fact that you’re asking him right now to do something that he’s always wanted to do for you is making his head spin, and he nearly drops the glass of water held in his one hand.

“Are you-“ he swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, “Are you sure?”

You smile faintly, nodding your head. “I want to watch My Sunshine light up this room with his passion like he’s always wanted to do for me.”

There is no denying the tremble in Wooyoung’s hands as he pulls you immediately into his embrace. His head buries itself into the side of your neck, careful not to spill any water on you in his quick movements.

You hear him sniffle lightly right by your ear.

“This room has always been intended for us,” you whisper, tightening your own hold around his back. The words you currently speak are just as much for you as they are for him right now. “Not her.”

“She will never be able to hurt you again.” His voice is low, but the promise is clear. “Not if I have anything to do about it.”

You smile faintly, nodding along softly to what he says. “Besides, I’m curious.”

“Oh?” He chuckles, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes.

“Thing for dancers, remember?” You crack a teasing grin, and the way his whole demeanour perks up says it all.

“How could I ever forget?” He wiggles his brows suggestively, an eager tug upwards to the corner of his lips. “I do have one condition before I start, though.”

This time, it’s your turn for your brow to quirk, “Oh?”

“Dance with me.” He breathes, his eyes shining as he stares deeply into your own.

Your lips part slightly, blinking in mild shock, “I’m not much of a dancer…”

Wooyoung parts from you only briefly to place the glass of water off to the side of the room where the stereo resides.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, setting up a song in the queue before walking back over to you for the moment. He offers you his hand, “Just follow my lead.”

For a moment, you glance between his hand and his face. You can see the slight nervousness lingering in his gaze as he looks at you, the tips of his fingers shaking the faintest bit as he holds them in the air. His shoulders are a little tense, and you can see his eyes practically pleading with you to accept his offer. To accept him.

Taking a deep breath, you do.

Placing your hand in his, you allow him to guide your body into his own. His touch is nothing but gentle as he places his opposite hand onto your waist, your own coming to settle on his shoulder as a familiar melody begins to trickle through the speakers.

Your breath hitches as the opening notes to Elton John’s Your Song begin to fill the room.

“This is-“ your eyes shine as they meet his own, and you notice his crinkling in the corners.

“I know.” He smiles, holding onto you a little bit tighter as he begins to guide you around the room with smooth steps. “I wanted it for us, too.”

Your heart swells with warmth in your chest. The fact that he knows how important this song is to you, it being your parent’s wedding song and all, has a love unlike anything before flooding your veins. This song is for you as much as its meaning is for them. You sung it for them, for him, and now you’re dancing to it, too.

A special memory for what you’re sure is soon to be a very special place.

Each step is fluid, Wooyoung moving you from one spot to the next. All the while, he pulls you close. His touch is nothing short of gentle, grasping your hand in his as if you are the finest piece of glass he has ever had the pleasure of holding. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he notices the way your eyes shine as you meet his gaze. A fond look which he knows is reflected in his own as he stares back at you with nothing but tender love and affection.

Nothing could take this moment away from either of you. The music surrounds you like a warm, comforting blanket after a long, cold day, easing some of the tension from the both of your shoulders as you continue to twirl around the room.

This time, when it reaches the chorus, it’s Wooyoung that pulls you in closer to him. Softly, he rests his head against the side of your own, humming gently. His voice is low as he sings along to the words that float tenderly through the air.

You hold him tighter, tears of joy beginning to sting at the corners of your eyes as this moment settles over you. All that matters to you right now is the way Wooyoung guides you around the room, spinning you lightly in his arms as the two of you dance together for the very first time. A dance of which you know will be the first of many more to come.

“See, you’re doing amazing, Angel.” He hums, the smile he wears lighting up the room.

You nuzzle against him affectionately, allowing your eyelids to flutter closed as the music surrounds you. “It’s because you’re here to guide me.”

A content rumble reverberates in his chest.

“I am deeply in love with you, My Angel.” He places a lingering kiss against the side of your head. “Forever and always.”

“Wooyoung,” Your eyes shine as you meet his own, nothing but love reflected in your gaze as you place a kiss onto his cheek. “I am in love with you, My Sunshine.”

You can feel his fingers pressing a little bit more firmly into your skin as you say this, his whole demeanour practically glowing as he holds onto you. You just know that if he could, he’d stay in this moment with you forever, and honestly, with how calm he’s making you feel, so would you.

All too soon, the song comes to an end.

“Thank you for dancing with me.” He keeps his voice low, nothing more than a mere whisper in your ear as he hugs you to his chest. One hand cradles the back of your head while the other rests on the small of your back. “This is everything I could have ever asked for.”

You smile, holding onto him just as tightly as he holds onto you. “I’ll dance with you like this whenever you’d like, Sunshine. As long as you’re here to guide me.”

Faintly, you register a tear landing on your shoulder. Tenderly, you stroke a hand down his back.

“I don’t want you to be scared anymore.” He admits, voice rough as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I let her hurt you.“

“Wooyoung-“

The worried call of his name from you is cut off by him.

“I let her hurt you in our own home.” His breath catches in his throat. “She-“ he swallows thickly. “She almost killed you in my own space.”

You meet his gaze, ensuring that he cannot look away as you cling onto his shoulders for dear life.

“It is not your fault.” Your voice is firm as you speak these words, but you can tell that he’s not going to listen to you right now.

“It is.” Another tear slides freely down his cheek as he shakes his head. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, Wooyoung-“

“She knew how much this space meant to me, what it means to me, and she wanted to use it to send a message.” He avoids your gaze, as if the words he admits to are the greatest sin he could ever confess. “I was always the closest to her out of all of us, and she always wanted me to dance for her.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I could never say ‘no’ to her.”

Understanding washes over you. “You really loved her.”

His chin begins to tremble as he nods. A moment later, he bites his bottom lip.

“I did.” He inhales a shaky breath. “She never did anything without reason, so her choosing the dance studio… it was her way of saying that this was her space before it could ever be yours. She probably thought that it was still her space.”

Your hands come up to cup his face gently, guiding his gaze back to your own. There’s a deeper realization flitting through your mind now, and as you watch him blink open his eyes, you realize that just as with the others, he needs you being here with him as much as you need to be here in this room with him right now.

“But she’s not here now.” Your voice comes out much firmer than you ever thought it would. “Is she?”

He exhales a low breath, hands coming up to settle on top of your own. “No.”

“I am tired of letting her control me.” You swallow, fingers pressing the slightest bit more firmly into his skin. “Of letting her control us. She doesn’t get that satisfaction. Not now. Not ever. This is our home. It will always be our home, and you made this space for us. I think it’s time that we replace her tainted presence in this space with special memories of our own, and I’d say we’ve already started.” You meet his gaze, your own softening as you smile. “Wouldn’t you?”

He squeezes your hands, and you notice his throat bob as he begins to nod. Finally, it seems as if he’s listening to what you have to say.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Softly, he leans forward to rest his forehead against your own. “I won’t let her hurt us in this space again.”

Your eyes fall shut as you hum in agreement, and you can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you exhale lightly.

“Make new memories with me, Sunshine.” You whisper, holding him close. “Dance for me.”

It takes only a moment before he starts nodding softly along with your words. You can feel his heart thundering against his chest as he presses right up against you, your own beating just as erratically as his is.

“I would love nothing more.” His voice is but a tender caress as he leans in to place his lips upon your skin.

For a moment, he lingers, revelling in this moment with you and what it means.

He won’t let her hurt you again. This is your space. A space meant for the two of you, and it always will be.

Blinking his eyes open, he finally pulls away from you. Wooyoung clears his throat lightly, wiping his lingering tears from his face as he straightens in his spot. A gentle smile pulls at his lips.

“I think I know just the dance I wish to show you first.” He says, walking you over to the mirrors.

Catching your reflection, you pause. Your breath hitches slightly, noticing the placement you stand in, seeing yourself resting right in front of the same panel which Miyeon threw you at all those weeks ago. You swear you can hear the way the mirror shatters still echoing through your ears, the cracks appearing in your vision the longer you stare at the panel before you.

Immediately, Wooyoung notices, concern furrowing his brow as you seemingly retreat into your own head.

“Hey, hey,” he gets you to look at him. “Remember, you’re here and she’s not. You’re safe now. Nothing will ever harm you again.”

You take a moment, glancing at your reflection once more. Then, slowly, you begin to nod. Every second that passes with you looking at both your image and his in the mirror solidifies that you’re okay. The panel is no longer broken, and neither are you. You are alive, and she can no longer hurt you. Besides, you are no longer the person you were when all of that happened, nor do you long to be.

You turn your back to the mirror, facing Wooyoung with a newfound softness to your gaze. He’s right, and you just know that nothing that she can do will ever harm you again.

He smiles gently in response, cupping the side of your face in his one palm briefly before moving over to set up the next song. In the blink of an eye, he stands in the centre of the room, rolling his shoulders out as he takes a deep breath to steady his nerves. This will be the first time he’s truly dancing for you, and he wants it to be special. Of course, Wooyoung is prepared to give his all for you, like always. He just hopes you enjoy what he’s about to show you, for there is nothing more intimate than he can offer you than his own soul while dancing.

He takes another deep breath in.

Finally, he’s ready to perform.

Sparing one final glance over to you, he sees you sitting on the ground, your back against the mirrors. Your knees are bent before you as you look up at him with wide eyes, excitement gleaming within.

He swallows thickly, and the music begins.

Of all the songs you thought Wooyoung would choose to dance for you first, never could you have ever imagined it to be Hozier’s Take Me To Church. The first notes are sombre, and so is his expression as he begins to move, and you cannot help the way your breath hitches in your throat. Your entire body stills as the meaning of him performing a song like this washes over you, and you realize right then and there that his guilt over what happened to you in this very room runs deeper than you’ll ever know.

Your eyes never leave him for even one second, and when the first chorus hits, you can see how he begins to get lost in the music. Each movement is precise, never once faltering in his concentration despite the slight tremble you can see in the tips of his fingers as he extends his arms above his head. His wrists are locked together, as if they are physically bound by a manifestation of his regret over what happened to you before he pulls them back down, moving into the next part of the dance flawlessly.

Wooyoung can feel his heart pounding inside of his chest, the lyrics washing over his very soul as he performs this dance for you. He’s never been one to care about religious imagery before, being a demonic entity and all, but there is no greater sin he feels that he has committed than letting you down. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for what Miyeon did to you, and every day, that guilt eats him alive. With this dance, he can no longer hide his true feelings. Not that he really could, anyways. At least, not from you.

Dancing has been his salvation, but after what happened to you, in this room, no less, he finds that it may never mean the same thing to him again. Though, after what you’ve already said to him today, there’s a small glimmer of hope that he desperately clings to. A glimmer which tells him that everything might actually turn out okay; things are never truly as bad as they seem.

You’ll get through this. Together. One step at a time.

The moment the bridge hits, the first of his tears that he had been desperately attempting to hold back begin to fall. Wooyoung pours all of his emotions into every movement, resonating deeply with the lyrics being sung right now as he feels your eyes on him as he flows from one step into the next.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest, and he begins to find it difficult to breathe. How you can even bare to look at him as he confesses to his greatest sins to you is beyond him. Right now, there is nothing artificial between you. No titles. No pretences. Only you and him. Two damaged souls who are finding refuge in the comfort of one another’s presence as he bares himself to the one he loves most.

That’s all he’s ever wanted; all that he could ever ask for.

He swallows thickly, the last line of the bridge echoing throughout the room.

Only then I am human. Only then I am clean.

Wooyoung falls to his knees, the movement synonymous with the first of your own tears that blaze a path down the sides of your cheeks.

The final chorus of the song rings out around you, and you watch as Wooyoung performs for you with all that he is. The whole time, his eyes remain closed, almost as if he’s too ashamed to so much as meet your gaze now. Still, you don’t need to have his hearing abilities to know that his heart is absolutely racing inside of his chest.

The tips of his fingers have yet to stop trembling.

The silence that echoes throughout the studio is deafening as the final notes of the song dissipate throughout the air. You can hardly keep your hands from shaking as you see Wooyoung practically collapsed into his final pose. His arms are extended towards you, palms facing upwards in complete submission and surrender as he curls in on himself while resting on his knees. Even you can see the way his back shakes from the weight of his sobs, and before you register what you’re doing, you’re beside him, pulling him into your loving arms.

“Oh, Wooyoung-“

“I’m sorry.” His wails have your heart squeezing painfully in your chest as he collapses into your embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

Softly, you shush him, cooing comforting words into his ear as you tenderly rub a hand over his back. You can feel his tears hitting your skin as he buries his face into the side of your neck, latching onto your form as if you may disappear at any moment.

“It’s all my fault.” He chokes on a sob. “It’s all my fault.”

“Shhh, no it’s not.” Gently, you comb the fingers of your hand through his hair. “It has never been, and will never be, your fault.”

He sobs harder.

“She did this to us. Please, never think that I’ve ever blamed you for anything that she did.” You keep your voice low, steady as you hold him close. “I’m sorry I let her taint this room. I’m sorry I let her manipulate me into hurting the people that I love most.”

“Angel-“

“You’re a beautiful dancer, Wooyoung.” You pull away to stare deeply into his eyes, cupping his face tenderly in your hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long to be able to acknowledge that.”

His breath hitches slightly, and you take this time to wipe his tears away. Not even a moment later, you’re dabbing gently at his sweat with the sleeve of your shirt.

“My only regret is not asking you to perform for me sooner.” The corners of your lips twitch upwards faintly. “Maybe then she wouldn’t have been able to worm her way into my head like this. Maybe then you wouldn’t be hurting like this. Because of me.”

Lightly, Wooyoung shakes his head. “We could have never known she would do this to us.”

“No,” you agree. “We didn’t.”

You take a moment to spare another glance around the room, taking in all of the new details you missed on your way in. There seems to be a small couch pushed against the one wall that’s been added since the very first house tour you went on all those months ago. Small windows have been added, lining the top of the opposite wall across from you. The wooden floor is now a light brown, the hardwood interconnected seamlessly, and the new panelling against the sides is a cement grey. Though, the closer you look, the more you realize that the walls are just that - cement.

The feeling of Wooyoung brushing his thumb along the skin on the back of your hand draws your attention to him for the moment.

“You okay, Gorgeous?” His inquiry is soft, a hint of worry shining behind his eyes.

At least it appears that he’s calmed down.

“I’ll be okay, Woo.” You assure him. “The longer I spend here with you, the better it gets. You make me feel safe.”

He squeezes your hand, your words meaning more to him than you’ll ever know. “I’m glad.”

Carefully, he helps you back to your feet.

“Will you-“ you shift slightly from foot to foot, as if suddenly nervous to be asking him something. You avert your gaze, a heat blooming on your cheeks. “Will you keep dancing for me?”

“Of course, Angel.” The smile that pulls onto his lips is nothing short of radiant. “Never be shy to ask me to dance for you. It’s one of my absolute favourite things to do. Getting to share this passion of mine with you means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“I’m glad.” This time, it’s you who hums, shifting to meet his gaze. “I love watching people dance. Even better that it’s you.”

A pleased rumble shakes his chest. “Is it too early to be able to call myself your favourite dancer, then?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it. “I don’t know, Taemin’s got a few years on you.”

The growl that escapes his lips is nothing short of feral as you find yourself suddenly pressed up against the mirrors.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I’ll show you what you’ve been missing out on all these years, Angel.” His voice is but a low drawl right by your ear. The way you shiver in his arms has a smirk pulling on his lips. “I’ll admit, the last dance might have selfishly been for me, but this one?” He trails his nose along the column of your throat before lightly nipping at the skin with his teeth. “This next one’s all for you.”

Much too soon for your liking, he’s pulled away from you. It only takes him a moment to queue up the next song, returning to the centre of the room as you slide back down the mirror to sit back on the floor. Anticipation claws at your chest, excitement thrumming in your veins as you see him staring at you with hooded eyes.

A second later, you find out why.

The familiar opening notes to Taemin’s Press Your Number begin to play through the speakers, and you audibly gasp. You find that you cannot tear your eyes away from Wooyoung as he begins to dance, that smug smirk pulling at his lips the whole time. The way your fingers dig into the skin of your thighs to ground yourself says it all.

You know he knows how much you love this song, not to mention this dance. Considering that this was the song you used to distract him with all those months ago in order to win that bet, you know he doesn’t particularly like this song. Hell, you’re sure he’s not the biggest fan of Taemin considering your affection towards the artist. Still, the fact that he learned this dance for you, and is now eagerly performing it as you watch him, means the world to you. A fact of which you’re sure he’s well aware of.

Special memories indeed.

Subconsciously, your lips part, tongue coming out to wet them as you watch Wooyoung move his hips so sensually to the beat. It might just be your imagination, but watching him perform this for you is much more intense than watching Taemin dance has ever been. Perhaps it’s the fact that this is for you that makes it all the more intense. Maybe, perhaps, it’s just because it’s him.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat.

Every movement he makes is precise, watching your reactions carefully. The way he can see your breathing deepen, lips moving in time with the words as you stare, transfixed by him and him alone sets his heart racing in his chest. He knew learning this dance for you would be well worth it in the end. Just seeing you looking at him like this, with such an awed filled gazed full of nothing but admiration and love makes his head spin. Not to mention how dark your gaze has suddenly become. The fact that he can hear your heart racing in time with his own is simply icing on the cake.

Finally, he has captivated you in the same ways you have always captivated him.

His smirk widens.

Never did Wooyoung believe he could ever enjoy performing this dance so thoroughly, but the fact that it’s for you has a pleasant thrum echoing throughout his veins. He absolutely adores the feeling of your eyes on him, and he has to suppress the pleasant shiver that wants to caress his spine when he takes a deep breath in only to scent the faintest beginnings of that familiar, intoxicating aroma of your arousal.

He did this to you. Heis doing this to you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Lowly, he sings along to the final line of the song, staring deeply into your eyes all the while. The way your breath hitches says it all, and despite his heaving chest, Wooyoung cannot keep the pleased growl from escaping him at the way you’re looking at him. There is no mistaking the darkness in your eyes, or the way that you’re almost breathing as heavily as he is right now.

You cannot tear your gaze away, heart thundering as you slowly push yourself back to your feet as he stands back to his own. Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you, noticing how he eagerly meets you halfway.

Wooyoung watches you through hooded eyes, loving how your hands immediately find purchase on his shoulders as you come to stand before him.

“You learnt this for me?” Your inquiry is a bit breathless, gaze shining with nothing but affection as you search his own.

The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he nods. “I want you thinking of me dancing these songs for you, not him.”

You say nothing, that same look of awe painting your features as your hands slide up his neck to cup his face.

Finally, he allows that shiver to caress his spine.

“I, uh-“ he swallows, your scent suddenly overwhelming him as he attempts to control himself. He clears his throat. “I also just enjoy seeing you happy. Knowing it’s because of me is a dream come true.”

Your heart swells in your chest at his words. “You’ve made me so incredibly happy right now, Wooyoung. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

He cannot keep the grin from his lips, eyes crinkling as he giggles. “Does this mean you think I’m a better dancer than Taemin is?”

“Baby steps, Sunshine.” You chuckle.

He pouts, quite dramatically at that.

“Hey, you’ll always have something that he never will.” You hum, teasingly trailing your finger over his chest.

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, almost knowingly. “What’s that?”

You meet his gaze. “Me.”

The growl that escapes him as he pulls you flush against him is nothing short of pleased. His lips trace over the skin of your neck, nose nudging against you affectionately as he holds you close.

“My Angel.” His voice is a mere rumble, his fingers digging into the skin of your back as he holds you close.

“My Sunshine.” You tenderly brush his hair back that’s fallen over his forehead. “My Dancer.”

Another pleased rumble escapes his chest, his lips beginning to trail lightly over your racing pulse.

“There’s another dance I wish to perform for you today, Angel.” He begins lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear. “A dance meant only for you.”

“You can dance for me as long as you want, Sunshine.” You say earnestly, hugging him tightly.

“No, Angel, please don’t misunderstand,” he chuckles. “This is a bit different than all of the others. This would be quite an intimate dance, meant only for the two of us.”

“Intimate?” You repeat the word back to him, a curious quirk to your brow.

“Long have I desired to be able to dance for you, and now that I have, I find that I wish to fully demonstrate every aspect of my performance art for you.” He admits lowly. “Will you let me show you the extent of my desires for you, Angel? May I dance for you?”

The inhale you take is sharp, understanding lighting behind your eyes as you see his own flitting all over your face. It’s as if he’s taking the time to memorize every little detail that your expression has to offer him.

You swallow thickly, beginning to nod your head slowly at first, until you can no longer hide your eagerness. No one has ever offered to perform something so intimate for you, and you find your heartbeat accelerating the more you think about it. Despite knowing he’s wanted to dance for you since the beginning, hell, even before he properly met you, you never thought he’d want to give you a lap dance.

Your stomach twists in excitement.

Wooyoung smirks against your skin, backing you up slightly until you’ve reached the centre of the room. Then, he’s guiding you down onto a chair that’s appeared out of thin air. Luckily, there are no arm rests, but you still cannot prevent the hitch in your breath as your body makes contact with the wood.

“Let me show you exactly what you do to me, Angel.” He nips lightly at your ear, running his hands down your arms comfortingly. A second later, he pulls away. Slowly. “Let me show you how much you mean to me."

“Yes.” The word is breathless as it falls from your lips, your hands clinging to the sides of the chair you sit on for support. “Please.”

His smug expression says it all.

Sending you a cheeky wink, Wooyoung is quick to move over to the stereo once more. His back is to you as he sets up the song, and he can feel your heated gaze practically boring a hole between his shoulder blades the whole time. Turning his head, he meets your eyes, his lips tugging upwards again in the corners. He blows you a kiss.

You wish you could deny the way your heart flutters from that simple action, but the anticipation thrumming through your veins is making you highly susceptible to everything him. Not to mention that you absolutely adore the fact that he wants to perform something like this for you. To say you’re excited to see just what he does would be a severe understatement. The fact that it’s him performing it for you only makes such a moment that much more intense.

“Keep your eyes on me, Angel.” His voice is but a low growl on his lips as you see that familiar darkness swirling within his gaze. “Eyes on me, and hands behind your back.”

You blink, somewhat in a daze, “Uh-“

“Don’t worry, Angel,” he smiles assuringly at you, straightening slightly in his spot. “I won’t make you go the whole song without touching me. I don’t think I could, even if I tried.”

Heat floods your veins at the implications, your throat bobbing as you swallow the sudden dryness that forms. “Okay.”

Slowly, and with meticulous movements, you shift your hands behind your back, clasping them gently behind the chair. Your shoulders are a little stiff, but with each passing moment, you remind yourself that this time, it’s you who controls your actions. No one is forcing your hands down, nor are they bound like before. You can get up and move at any point in time, but you will stay seated here like this for now. For him.

She cannot hurt you anymore. Besides, he’s doing this for you.

He meets your gaze, hands trembling as he attempts to ground himself by the stereo. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Your eager nod which accompanies your one word says it all.

Wooyoung can feel his heart absolutely racing inside of his chest as he hits play on the song. His head is tilted downwards for the moment, no longer facing you as the opening notes of The Weeknd’s Earned It begin totrickle out through the speakers.

Desperately, Wooyoung attempts to steady his breathing. His eyes darken with every inhale he takes. For too long has he dreamt of performing something like this for you, and now that the moment has finally come, he finds that he can hardly contain his own excitement. The fact that you can’t seem to tear your eyes off of him is the best feeling he’s ever experienced in his life, and he hasn’t even started yet.

The second the beat truly kicks in, he’s turning to you. A moment later, he’s sliding up to the chair you’re sitting on in one fluid movement as he comes to kneel before you. His hands settle gently onto your knees, as his eyes flutter closed, rolling his head once in a circle in time with the music. The instant his eyes flash open to reveal those pitch black pools of darkness you’ve become so used to, your breath hitches in your throat.

“You make it look like it’s magic.” Wooyoung’s voice is nothing short of seductive as he lowly sings along to the song while staring deeply into your eyes. Carefully, he walks his fingers up your thighs before pushing your legs apart.

Tingles erupt on your skin wherever he touches, your heart racing inside of your chest. Your gaze remains locked on his own, noting every subtle twitch of his lips as he performs for you. A fact which you know he enjoys, for his eyes never stop swirling with that all too familiar darkness you’ve come to love so much from him.

Fluidly, he stands back to his feet, leaning into you as he cups your cheek tenderly in his hand for only a moment.

“So I love when you call unexpected.” Slowly, he begins to walk around to the back of the chair, his fingers tracing over your shoulder until he rests behind you. “‘Cause I hate when the moment’s expected.”

Your eyes track him the whole time in the mirror, noticing how he never shifts his gaze from you for one second. Similarly, his touch never leaves your skin, both hands resting on either one of your shoulders as he leans over you.

“So, I’ma care for you, you, you.” His breath caresses the shell of your ear as his fingers trail down your skin. Goosebumps soon erupt over your arms as he slowly, meticulously, drags his fingers back up your sides. “I’ma care for you, you, you, you.”

In the blink of an eye, Wooyoung has swung himself back to the front of the chair. His legs rest on either side of you, straddling you as he cups your face, oh, so tenderly in his hands.

“‘Cause girl, you’re perfect.” A slow grind against your lap in time with the lyrics.

“You’re always worth it.” He stares deeply into your eyes, transfixed by the very way you’re gazing at him with nothing but love and desire. A look he knows is reflected on his own features right now.

“And you deserve it,” He leans into your ear, nipping at your skin as he continues to move over you in time with the music, “The way you work it.”

He pulls back only to rest his forehead on your own, holding you tenderly in the palm of his hands.

“‘Cause girl, you earned it.” The hitch in your breath makes him smirk, feeling his whole body heating as he continues to grind himself into you in time with the beat of the song. “Girl, you earned it.”

The moment the second verse starts, he’s pulled himself away from you. You can feel the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin, swallowing thickly as you watch him begin to undo the buttons on his shirt. He never misses a beat, moving around you like a predator stalking his prey.

A pleasant shiver caresses your spine.

Appearing in front of you once more, you see his shirt fully open, the planes of his chest on full display. The way your breath hitches as he flicks the material off of his shoulders does not go unnoticed by him.

He smirks, loving how he can see you slowly being shaking in need as he allows the material to fall delicately to the ground. The fact that you waste no time trailing your gaze shamelessly over his bare torso has a pleased growl falling from his lips, his already aching cock twitching beneath his sweats.

Briefly, your eyes dart to that necklace you gave him all those long weeks ago.

This time when he sits in your lap, his hands are finding purchase on your shoulders. There’s no mistaking the tent in his pants, feeling his hard cock pressing up against you as he grinds himself meticulously against you in time with the second chorus. Only this time, his voice is more of a rumble as the words fall from his lips, a sharp hiss escaping him as he presses a little firmer down on your thighs as he moves over you.

Desperately, his fingers dig into your skin, holding you close as he commits every expression you give him to memory. The way your lips part, chest heaving alongside his own says it all.

As soon as the bridge hits, he’s swinging his leg over you and standing back to his feet. He shifts behind you, bending his knees slightly as he rolls his hips to the side. A blink, and he’s on the ground before you, knees shifting over the hardwood as he rolls his hips, his body soon following each movement that he makes.

Slowly, Wooyoung brings a hand up to his neck, wrapping his fingers lightly around his throat while staring at you through hooded eyes. Meticulously, he drags that hand down his torso, fingers tracing over that charm that hangs over his skin before sliding lower over his body.

Your eyes follow his every movement, watching as he cups himself over his sweats. A low moan escapes his lips as his eyes flutter shut.

“All for you, Angel.” His breath stutters. “I’m all yours.”

“Wooyoung,” His name is nothing more than a breathless moan on your lips as the final chorus begins to ring out around you.

Carefully, he shifts his hands, hooking his fingers beneath the waistline of his sweats. In one fluid movement, he’s stood back to his feet, all the while ridding himself of those grey sweatpants. A second later, he steps out of them only to straddle your lap. His black briefs leave nothing to the imagination as he presses himself firmly against your thighs, grinding down so sensually in time with the music that continues to surround you both.

“Angel,” he’s panting at this point, eyes falling shut. “Angel, please-“

You lick your lips.

“Please, touch me.”

Your hands are on him without another thought.

The whole time your fingers trace over his skin, wrapping around his torso and pulling him closer into you, you can feel him shaking. His thighs begin to tremble, and he can barely control his breathing as the final lines of the song wash over the both of you.

Bringing your hands up, you move one to tangle in his bright red locks. The other cups his face, bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. A kiss which he eagerly reciprocates as he continues to move over you.

You deserve it.

Your hands slide down his shoulders and light a fire upon his skin as he feels your nails trail over the front of his torso.

Girl, you deserve it.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you trail your hands downwards in order to squeeze his ass. The stuttering moan that he lets out against your mouth as you pull him in closer causes you to clench around nothing, swallowing his whimpers as his grinding meticulously slows over you. The desperate way he clings onto you says it all.

This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. The amount of pure ecstasy flowing through his veins right now, and all because you allowed him the pleasure of performing such an intimacy for you, begins to overwhelm him. With every breath he takes, he can feel his thighs shaking, his abdomen tightening as he attempts to control himself for the time being.

“Angel-“

The call of your name is but a mere shaky, breathless warning. One which you understand completely as the final notes of the song fade out around you.

“Go ahead, Wooyoung,” you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, giving his ass another appreciative squeeze. “Come for me. Come performing for Your Queen.”

The words have barely finished escaping your mouth when his eyes are fluttering shut. His brow furrows, and he stills above you, mouth parting as a low, desperate moan tumbles from his lips.

Leaning forwards, he rests his forehead against your own. His breathing comes in jagged pants, whole body tingling as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.

Nothing could take this moment away from him. Absolutely nothing. The fact that you wanted him to lose himself in you - for you - makes his head spin, heart swelling in his chest as he revels in your gentle touches.

Softly, you press your lips to his once more.

Whimpers continue to escape him as he feels you gently massaging his ass. The languid way your tongue moves against his own has nothing but pleasure flooding his veins once more, his arms settling around your shoulders as he cradles your head in his one hand.

Almost reluctantly, he parts from you, only to trail his lips down the side of your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, nipping at the sensitive flesh and eliciting the sweetest of moans from you. He smiles.

“I love you, My Angel.” Another kiss is placed directly over your pulse. “So much.”

“Wooyoung,” you smile, shifting your arms so that you can wrap him in your embrace. You bury your face into the side of his neck, placing a tender kiss of your own against his skin. “I love you.”

The pleased hum that builds in his chest reverberates against your own, and you feel him pull you impossibly closer.

“May I-“ he takes a deep, stuttering breath, and a moan escapes him at the way he can scent your arousal permeating the air. “May I please you, too?”

“You already have.” You hum, beginning to thread your fingers through his hair.

“As happy as that makes me to hear you say that, My Queen,” he pulls the slightest bit away to stare deeply into your eyes. “I want to make good on my promises, and show you just how well Your King can please His Goddess.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

“Please,” he nuzzles against you affectionately. “Won’t you let me?”

A second where you can feel your heart skip a beat inside of your chest.

“Yes.” You begin to nod, quite eagerly at that. “Only if I get to please you, too.”

Wooyoung smirks, “You already have.”

Your words of protest die in your throat as you feel him move off of you. With wide eyes, you stare up at him, feeling your heart warm at the tender way he looks down at you still seated in the chair.

Gingerly, he cups your face in his hands. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

“I just want you.” Your earnest reply sets his heart fluttering inside of his chest.

“Angel,” he coos, eyes shining with the weight of his emotions. He swallows, his throat bobbing with the movement. “That’s not entirely what I meant, but your answer still means the world to me.”

You blink up at him, tilting your head in mild curiosity. “Then, what did you mean, Sunshine?”

“I cannot please you to the best of my abilities if you do not tell me how.” The way he repeats those same words to you that he said all those months ago has your breath hitching in your throat.

Not even a moment later, a devious smirk is pulling at your features.

“Oh?” You tilt your head slightly in his direction, standing back to your feet slowly. “And here I was thinking the self-proclaimed ‘Master of Seduction’ had me all figured out.”

His brow quirks, a low chuckle falling from his lips. “I’ve made some deductions, yes.”

“Then show me everything you’ve learned, Angel.” The way he shivers as you drawl out that particular name does not go unnoticed by you. Your grin widens, and you step closer. Keeping your voice low you whisper into his ear, “After all, I’ve made some deductions of my own.”

Gently, you nip at his skin, hands finding purchase on his shoulders as his own find purchase on your waist. The low groan that tumbles from his lips says it all.

His eyes flash, “With pleasure, My Queen.”

Wooyoung moves in to kiss you once more, but your finger on his lips freezes him in his spot.

His brow furrows, worry immediately shining within his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is perfect.” You smile assuringly at him. “I just have one request before we begin.”

“Anything.” He breathes, nothing but sincerity reflected in his gaze.

“I wish to make love to you here.” Your grip tightens on his shoulders. “In this room.”

Wooyoung blinks. Once. Twice. Three times before he manages to get his thoughts under control. His racing heart feels as if it will beat right out of his chest at any moment, a fire lighting in his veins as his breathing deepens. The full meaning of what you’re asking him settles over his very soul, and he cannot contain the way his eyes flash black, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest as he pulls you flush against him.

His lips part, but only pants escape him. His head continues to spin, grip tightening over your hips as he feels that familiar tightening of his abdomen. A moment later, his cock begins to throb, his whole body heating beneath your intense stare.

“Are you-“ he manages to choke out, “Are you sure?”

“More than anything, Sunshine.” Your loving expression says it all.

In the blink of an eye, Wooyoung has you wrapped in his arms. You feel yourself falling forwards, bouncing slightly as you land on top of him on what appears to be a mattress that he’s made appear on the floor. White linen sheets greet your gaze, and suddenly the whole room is bathed in candle light.

The soft flickering of flames illuminate the entire space, casting a warm glow over his tan skin. His eyes hold nothing but tender love and fondness as he gazes up at you, your legs resting on either side of his waist. His hands still grip your hips so gently, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath he takes.

Softly, his fingers caress your sides, trailing beneath your shirt and causing the material to lift slightly. Wooyoung can feel the tips of his fingers tingling everywhere your skin makes contact with his own, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“Angel,” There is nothing but affection dripping from his tone as he stares up at you in awe. “You are my everything.”

You smile down at him, reaching out to cup his face tenderly in the palm of your hand. Gently, your thumb strokes over his cheek, and you lean in to kiss him.

“I love you, Wooyoung,” you mumble against his lips, feeling the way he moans against yours in response. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

A breathless call of your name escapes him, his voice nothing more than a tender caress against your ears. His eyes flutter shut, absolutely revelling in this moment, right here, right now, with you.

He trails his hands higher.

Parting from him only briefly, you sit back to your full height. In one fluid motion, you remove your shirt, tossing it to the side as you see him staring up at you in awe. You can see him watching your every movement as you waste no time unclasping your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders and tossing it in the same direction as your shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes flit everywhere over your exposed torso, a pleased rumble escaping him. “My Angel.”

Teasingly, you run your hands down his chest, nails scratching gently at his skin. You hum. “My handsome King.”

This time, a growl escapes him, his grip tightening as he pulls you in closer. The way you begin to grind yourself over his hard cock has his eyes flashing black. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“I’m all yours, My Queen.” His hips buck up to meet your own, lips tugging upwards in a grin as you gasp. “And you’re mine.”

Your eyes fall closed in bliss. “I’m yours, Sunshine.”

A moan tumbles shamelessly from him, hands trailing up your sides to begin palming at your breasts. The way you keen into his touch, especially when he begins circling your hardening nipples with his thumbs has a warmth flooding his chest.

“Angel,” The way he calls your attention, so softly and full of adoration has you meeting his gaze in an instant. “Please, let me taste you again.”

You blink down at him in mild shock, your lips parting as he continues to squeeze your breasts so tenderly.

“I’ve been dreaming about that gorgeous pussy of yours since the very first time you allowed me the honour of pleasing you.” His confession is somewhat breathless, eyes locking onto the apex of your thighs. “I need to feel you dripping down my chin, drowning me in everything you.”

He does not fail to hear the hitch in your breath, nor the way your thighs tighten ever so slightly around his waist.

“I promise I won’t hold back this time.” Wooyoung briefly darts his gaze upwards to meet your own.

Your hands come up to grasp his wrists, steadying yourself against him as you watch him lick his lips. There’s a certain type desperation written all over his face, jagged pants escaping him the longer that he stares, transfixed, at your clothed core.

“What do you mean by that?” Your inquiry is quite airy, swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat as you look down upon him.

The way his hair fans out around his head only serves to accentuate his features, his dark eyes locking with yours.

“You’ll see.”

Wooyoung can physically feel the way your heart stutters beneath your chest at his response. He knows that you’re curious, and eager, to discover what he has in store for you. It’s written all over your body language, for a shiver is soon to caress your spine as you move off of him briefly.

With hooded eyes, he watches as you stand back to your feet. Wooyoung pushes a few stray strands of his hair back from his forehead, making sure his view is completely unobstructed as he watches you slowly push your jeans down your legs.

The second the material touches the ground, a needy groan is escaping him. The full scent of your arousal begins to permeate the air, making his mouth water. All he knows in this moment is you, that all too familiar burning hunger rising beneath the surface of his skin as he is almost completely consumed by his desires. All he wants to do is please you, to make you drown in ecstasy until you cannot tell where he ends and you begin.

Biting his lip, he watches you slide your panties off before teasingly dropping them directly on top of his face.

The snarl that tears from his throat as he breathes in your unfiltered arousal is unlike anything you’ve ever heard. Almost immediately, his hand is clutching desperately at the material of your panties, nose buried in the material as pleased rumbles escapes his chest. His eyes flutter closed.

“I was going to say ‘save them for later’, but it looks to me as if you’re rather enjoying yourself right now.” You giggle, and Wooyoung swears it’s one of the most melodic sounds he’s ever heard in his entire life.

Pitch black eyes flash open to meet your own.

“I have been longing for another pair ever since I accidentally tore apart the last one.” He admits lowly, taking another deep breath in.

Your eyebrows raise in mild amusement. “You tore them apart?”

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, he lowers his hand that clutches onto your panties to his side. “To be fair, it was an accident.”

The corner of your lips quirks upwards as you sink back onto your knees. The mattress dips as you crawl up his body, stopping just beside his head. You cup his cheek.

“One of these days, I want to see you act out every little desire you’ve ever fantasized about with those panties of mine.” Your sultry tone leaves nothing to the imagination.

A growl escapes him, eyes flashing in agreement as his free hand comes up to grasp your thigh. He meets your gaze.

“You let me know when, Angel, and I’ll show you everything I’ve ever done to myself when fantasizing about you.” He tightens his hold on your thigh, nails biting almost desperately into your skin. “But right now, I want you to sit on my face.”

“You better.” You grin, stroking your thumb over his cheek delicately. “Then, maybe I’ll show you what I’ve fantasized doing with you.”

The snarl he lets out gets partially smothered by you shifting above him. Your thighs encase his head, slowly lowering your glistening core onto his eager and awaiting mouth as he stares up at you with those all too familiar black eyes. He licks his lips.

At the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, you cannot tell who moans louder. Desperately, his fingers dig into the skin of your ass, pulling you flush against him as his eyes close in bliss.

“Fuck, Angel-“ He groans against you. “How are you even sweeter than I remember?”

Without wasting another second, his lips are wrapped around your clit, suckling on that little bud eagerly before his tongue is flicking over it in tandem. Guttural groans escape his chest, bordering on low growls as he soon laves his entire mouth over your dripping entrance. Of course, he takes the time to trace over your lips with the tip of his tongue soon after.

The whole time, he never breaks eye contact with you, holding you close as his nails bite into your skin. Every movement he makes with his tongue is precise, circling over that little bundle of nerves and watching your reactions carefully. Wooyoung is more than eager to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible this evening, slowly building you up in the best of ways until he has you falling apart for him over, and over, and over again.

At one particularly harsh flick of his tongue, your hand immediately seeks purchase in his hair. Your fingers tug at his roots, nails scratching against his scalp as he moans shamelessly into your pussy. The resulting vibrations send a pleasant shiver up your spine, feeling his tongue beginning to dip into your entrance as your juices drip down his chin.

A soft caress against your mind has you opening your void, his white string practically humming in movement.

Best pussy I’ve ever had. A pointed suck is given to your clit, causing you to whine out his name so beautifully. Best pussy I’ll ever have.

Your eyes flutter closed in bliss, stomach twisting from his words.

I’ll never get tired of this. His admission is echoed by a low growl as his tongue circles your entrance once more. Fuck, what a beautiful sight you are, My Queen. Even better knowing that I get to please you like this. I could devour you allday.

A choked moan falls passed your lips as you keen above him.

So fucking wet for me. He hums in approval, eyes briefly closing as he traps your clit between his lips, shaking his head from side to side. All for me.

“All because of you.” Your lips part, breathless pants escaping you as you attempt to ground yourself. “No idea what you do to me."

Wooyoung snarls, tongue eagerly flicking at your clit in response.

“Fuck- yes, My King,” you whine, a blissful smile tugging at your features. “Just like that.”

You feel him smirk against your cunt as he presses himself impossibly closer into you.

Tell me, My Queen, he manages to get you to meet his gaze, and the way you can barely keep your eyes open from the pleasure of it all has his heart swelling with pride. Have you thought about me since that day? Have you thought about the way my lips felt on you? About how good my tongue feels flicking this precious little clit of yours?

“Yes.” The admission is but a whine on your lips, a moan tumbling from you shortly afterwards. “Fuck- I always think about you, Woo.”

This time, it’s his turn to moan.

“You always make me feel so good, Angel.” You drawl out, feeling the way he shudders beneath you in response. “How can I not think of the way your skilled tongue licks this pussy so eagerly?”

Sparing a glance down, you notice his eyes roll into the back of his head as he leans into you even further. Low growls escape him with every breath, his suddenly sharp nails pricking desperately into the skin of your ass as he pulls you even closer.

“You’ve just been waiting to serve Your Queen like this, haven’t you?” You continue, an almost mocking concern to your tone.

A guttural groan escapes him, his answer of confirmation being muffled by your dripping cunt.

“My Sunshine has been so eager to bury his face in His Angel’s cunt again, he tore her precious panties apart out of sheer desperation.” You hum, almost knowingly.

The resounding whine he lets out is all you need to know that what you speak is true. Wooyoung has always been so desperate for you, that he’s never been able to control himself around you. All he’s ever wanted is to please you, to make you fall apart for him as many times as you’ll allow him to, and he’ll never expect anything in return. Seeing you lose yourself to such ecstasy, and knowing that he’s the cause of such delightful bliss you’re succumbing to turns him on like nothing else. He wants to be the reason His Goddess reaches the highest pleasures that she’s ever received. Only he wants to be the cause of your euphoria, and he’ll do everything in his power to make it so.

You’re addictive, Angel. He moans shamelessly into your cunt. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with only a single taste.

Your stomach twists in pleasure, feeling yourself clench around nothing at the sheer honesty behind his words. The desperation alone that you can feel in each of his movements is enough to make your head spin, and you find yourself getting lost in the feeling of it all.

There’s a slight hitch in your breath as you feel him dipping his tongue through your folds, prodding slightly at your entrance as he eagerly laps up every last drop you have to offer him.

Fuck- My Queen- His eyes fall shut, revelling in the feeling of your fingers tugging at his hair. The way you begin to grind your hips against him, meeting his every movement of his tongue over you has his one hand creeping down his own body to palm himself over his briefs. Give me more. I want more.

“Wooyoung-” The gasp of his name is synonymous with the feeling of his tongue slipping through your folds. You can feel his wet muscle probing at your entrance, dipping in and out while sliding deeper inside of you each time. It’s almost as if the further he presses into you, the longer and thicker his tongue gets.

I told you, Angel, his chuckle reverberates beautifully against your folds as he slips his tongue inside of you. The way your eyes roll into the back of your head as the tip begins massaging the inner walls of your cunt has his cock twitching in his hold. This time, I’m not holding back.

“Oh, fuck-“ your thighs begin to shake, and you subconsciously squeeze them tighter around his head.

Not that he really minds…

“Don’t stop! Wooyoung-“ your breath hitches, “fuck, don’t stop!”

You can feel the upturn of his lips against you, his nose affectionately nuzzling against that little bundle of nerves. The whole while, his tongue explores the interior of your cunt. There’s a certain eagerness to his movements, your essence flowing from you shamelessly as he continues to hum against you. Each exhale is but a pleased growl, his chest vibrating with every sound he makes as his tongue rubs up against your walls.

At the way your breath hitches, a high-pitched whine escaping you as he flicks over a specific area inside of you, he snarls. There it is.

All of his attention is now focussed on pressing his tongue against that special spot inside of you. With each movement, he experiments with different patterns, changing the pressure until he finds the ones that have you keening the most. All the while, his nose bumps over your clit, the little jolts of sudden ecstasy causing your whole body to shake as you attempt to control yourself.

Long since have Wooyoung’s eyes bled black, his hand moving over his cock in time with your movements on his tongue. The way you are more than content to grind down against him, seeking out the most intense pleasure that he has to offer you has his stomach twisting, and his cock throbbing in his hold.

That’s it, Angel. He encourages. Lose yourself on my tongue. Succumb to the ecstasy of my touch, and let yourself go.

You can feel yourself clenching around his tongue at his words, barely able to hold yourself upright as nothing but pure bliss courses through your veins. You can tell that you’re close, breathing coming in jagged pants as you tilt your head back, a loud moan of his name falling from your lips.

Just as you shift your head to peer down at him once more, something catches your attention. An image that has your cunt fluttering around him, your stomach clenching pleasantly as your grip tightens in his hair.

Glancing up, Wooyoung takes notice of where your gaze lies. His chest swells in pride, unable to prevent the snarl that tears from his throat as he redoubles his efforts over your weeping cunt.

Gorgeous, aren’t you, My Queen? His voice resounding in your head makes you whimper above him. Keep watching yourself. See how beautiful you are as you fall apart on my tongue. How beautiful you’ve always been.

“Wooyoung, I-“ your voice catches in your throat, that all too familiar coil close to snapping.

Come for me, My Queen. A low growl greets your ears. Fucking flood me in you.

A loud cry of his name flies passed your lips as you toss your head back in ecstasy. Your entire body trembles as the wave of your orgasm crashes into you, eyes squeezing shut as you cling onto him for dear life. Spots dance behind your vision and your head spins, feeling as if your whole being is floating as your chest heaves with every breath you take.

Languidly, you feel his tongue moving inside of you. The tip gently caresses your walls, and you can just tell from the way he’s snarling beneath you that you’re positively dripping onto his chin right now.

His nose brushes against your clit, and your whole body jolts. An involuntary whine escapes you, lips parted as you practically collapse forwards. Luckily, you manage to catch yourself just in time with your arms, even if they feel like they might give out at any moment.

Slowly, Wooyoung retracts his tongue, lapping gently at your folds as his one hand moves to help support you. The way your arms give out beneath you has him smiling wide, holding you steady as he pulls you down to rest beside him on the mattress.

He licks his lips, chin shining with your essence as he giggles at your somewhat dazed expression.

“You did so well for me, Angel.” He places a chaste kiss to your lips, stroking a hand over your back tenderly. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”

“Shouldn’t-“ you clear your throat, voice hoarse from overuse, “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

The smile that tugs at his features lights up the entire room, even more so than the candles.

“I’m simply glad that I could serve you.” He leans in to rest his forehead against your own, nuzzling you affectionately as he pulls you closer.

Softly, your hand runs down his chest, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. The way you caress him now just as you did that one morning last week has his eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

“Let me serve you.” Your words are but a mere drawl on your lips as you lower your hand even further.

Only, the prominent wet patch you feel against the palm of your hand says it all.

“Don’t even worry, Angel.” Wooyoung hums, wrapping his arm loosely around your waist. “I already told you that bringing you pleasure pleases me more than you’ll ever know. I’m just sorry I’ve already came twice, and you’ve only come once.”

“Believe me,” you eyes widen slightly, as if to truly emphasize your words. “That one time has already been more than enough. You seriously all have incredible stamina. I’m just happy to know I could have such an effect on you. Knowing I can essentially make you come without so much as actually touching you is incredibly confidence boosting. Not to mention extremely hot.”

“You have no idea.” Wooyoung grins, his chest rumbling with happiness. “Besides, seeing you fall apart like that for me- because of me, is reward enough.”

The corners of your lips pull upwards softly, your heart warming as you hum in content. “Since when could you do that with your tongue?”

“Since forever.” He chuckles fondly. “Shifter, remember?”

“Fuck, I love you.” Your eyes shine with nothing but adoration as you meet his gaze.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest. “And I love you, My Queen.”

Gently, your thumb comes up to wipe some of your essence from his chin.

“Ah,” he practically tuts at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “I got it.”

Not even a moment later, his tongue creeps out of his mouth, languidly running over his chin as the muscle slithers against his skin.

Your breath hitches in your throat, watching every movement he makes with dark eyes. The fact that his tongue was just inside of you only makes this moment that much more intense, your stomach clenching pleasantly in response.

“Should I start calling you Venom?” You smirk, a sudden playful gleam flashing within your gaze.

His teeth suddenly look much too sharp as his lips pull back in a wide grin.

“I suppose it would be very fitting,” you hum, brushing a hand over the side of his face and pushing some of his hair behind his ear.

“Well, poisons are my specialty.” He leans forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Definitely also has nothing to do with the fact that I’m also a monster fucker.” You add casually.

Wooyoung’s eyes go wide as if you’ve just revealed the greatest piece of information to him that he’s ever heard.

“I knew it!” The grin he wears is nothing short of triumphant, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he begins giggling like a maniac.

“I don’t necessarily hide it, Sunshine.” You chuckle, lifting a finger to boop his nose affectionately.

“Now that you mention it, you do talk about fucking dragons and vampires quite often.” He hums in acknowledgement.

“You’re telling me that vampires are real?” Your eyes go wide in excitement, your whole body practically beginning to vibrate in his hold.

His lips purse dramatically as a frown pulls at his features.

“Kidding!” You nuzzle your head against his own, that playful gleam back in your eyes. “It’s still so easy to rile you up.”

“I can’t help it, Beautiful.” He sighs, almost wistfully. “When you have a Goddess laying before you whom you love more than anything that jokes about this kind of stuff… well, I’m sure you’d feel the same.”

“Wooyoung, you know that I’m serious when I say that I’m in love with you, and that you’re mine and I’m yours, right?” You look at him expectantly.

A moment of silence passes between you where he simply just stares at you. His eyes shine with nothing but tender love and awe, his heart absolutely thundering within his chest from your words.

A blink, and he’s shifted your positions so that he hovers over you while you rest beneath him. He meets your gaze, strands of his red hair falling over his forehead and framing his face beautifully.

“Say it again.” His plea is desperate, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.

“Which?” You quirk a brow teasingly. “That I’m in love with you, or that you’re mine and I’m yours?”

“Yes.” A low groan escapes him as his head falls forward, forehead pressing against your own as his eyes slip closed. “Both.”

“I am in love with you, Wooyoung.” There is no hesitation in your voice as you reply, watching as he blinks his eyes open only to stare deeply into your own in the next second. “You are mine, and I am yours.”

His lips are on your own as soon as the final syllable escapes you, grinding his hips lightly into your own.

A soft gasp falls from you, and Wooyoung takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Gently, he kisses you, pouring all that he is into the movement of his lips against your own. Right now, he’s not concerned about anything other than showing you how deep his love is for you in any and every way that he can.

Right now, it’s exactly as you say: you are his, and he is yours. Nothing will ever change that fact, and as you lay beneath him, in the comfort of his dance studio, you both know this to be unquestionably true.

You love each other, and nothing, no one, will ever change that. You love each other, and you always will.

Tracing his hands up your sides, Wooyoung feels a shiver caress your spine. Long since have your panties been tossed aside, allowing for his fingers to freely roam the expanse of your bare skin without impeding his touch. He simply revels in you: your every sound, your every reaction, loving how your scent intoxicates him the longer that the two of you spend together. The fact that you’re starting to smell like him, and him like you is simply the cherry on top.

Your hands on his back pull him in closer as he continues to slowly grind himself into you. With each movement, you can feel his cock becoming harder once more, your heart racing at the very fact that it is you that is doing this to him.

“Woo,” the gentle call of his name from you against his lips has his cock twitching against your core.

He pulls away to stare into your eyes, but not before nipping lightly at your jawline. “Yes, My Queen?”

“Don’t you want me to touch you?” The question you pose is so innocent falling from your lips, blinking up at him with those loving eyes of yours.

“You are touching me, Beautiful.” He chuckles, placing a brief kiss against the skin of your lips.

“That’s not what I meant.” A slight frown tugs at your brow.

“Angel, I’ve already told you,” he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, placing another kiss over your racing pulse. “There is no greater pleasure for me than pleasing you. I want to take my time, drowning you in an ecstasy that only I can provide for you. Right now, I want to focus solely on your pleasure. That is my greatest desire: pleasing you in every and any way I know how, and sharing in this intimacy with you as I make you come over, and over, and over again for me and me alone. You know that I will never expect anything in return.”

Your gaze softens, “Wooyoung-“

“Do you know how many times I’ve come untouched just to the mere thought of you?” His voice is but a low rumble right by your ear. “Simply the thought of being able to bring you uninterrupted pleasure, My Queen, pleases me more than you’ll ever know. I want you to use me in any and every way that you know how until you are satisfied. I want to serve you, and watch as you fall apart for me over, and over, and over again using my fingers, my tongue, my cock.”

A desperate shudder caresses your spine, your breath hitching in your throat.

He smirks.

“My body was made to please you, Angel.” Lightly, he nips at the skin of your neck, just below your ear. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

Your throat bobs as you swallow, lips parting as you stare up at him with nothing but a deep love and admiration in your eyes. Your entire being warms, heart swelling in your chest at how earnestly he speaks his words to you. There is no insincerity that you can hear within his voice, no false pretences or double meanings behind his words. All you do know, is that what he speaks is true, and you’ve already begun to experience it first hand.

A tender smile pulls at your features, your one hand reaching up to brush his hair back from his face yet again this evening. Softly, you shift to cup his face so tenderly in your palm, loving how he instantly leans into your touch.

“You are in control here, Angel.” He turns his head to nuzzle deeper against your hand. “You are always in control.”

“Alright.” You breathe out, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in this moment with him. “Then, let me make the sweetest love to My King.”

The smile that stretches across his face says it all. “I would love nothing more.”

Shifting over the mattress, Wooyoung helps you flip your positions. Quickly, he shimmies out of his underwear, allowing you to settle over top of him. His hands instantly find purchase on your waist, such a tender fondness shining within his eyes as he gazes upon you. It’s as if he’s truly looking upon a Goddess as he takes in your every feature above him, nothing but the deepest, sincerest form of love and trust swirling within his gaze. There you appear to him in all of your glory, and like hell will he ever forget this moment. No, this day will live in his memories forevermore. Until the very end of time.

Settling your core above his cock, you teasingly grind down onto him. The way he can feel your wetness dripping onto his skin makes him moan, eyes nearly falling shut in bliss. Only, he swears to keep his gaze fixated on you at all times. Never does he want to miss a single moment of intimacy with you, selfishly wanting your every reaction for his eyes only.

“Are you okay, Sunshine?” Your gentle inquiry is but a soft caress against his ears.

“Never better.” He admits breathlessly, hands squeezing your sides lovingly. “Are you okay?”

The fact that he repeats your own question back to you warms your entire being, soul coming alight as you nod your head. Even though your confirmation is but a whisper on your lips, he still hears you loud and clear.

Not even a moment later, you’re reaching down between your two bodies and taking his cock into your one hand. Pumping him a few times, you teasingly run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precome that leaks out over his head.

A low moan from Wooyoung is all your receive in response, feeling him twitch in your hand.

Without breaking eye contact, you line him up with your entrance. Slowly, you drag his tip through your folds, gathering the wetness there and watching as his gaze darts down to where your bodies are soon to be intertwined.

You begin to sink down onto his cock.

A pleasant hum escapes you as you feel him beginning to stretch you out. Of course, you take your time, adjusting to him as you lower your hips to meet his own.

The whole while, Wooyoung watches as his cock disappears into your wet warmth, stomach clenching as he feels your walls beginning to squeeze him so delicately. Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your cunt sucking him in, his head spinning as that familiar darkness swirls within his gaze.

Low groans escape him with every breath, bordering on growls as you finally sink down fully on his cock. He adores the feeling of your hips pressing against his, your hands coming to settle on his chest as you steady yourself, nails digging into his skin.

Your breathing comes in jagged pants, core still so sensitive from the single orgasm he’s already given you this evening. Even you can feel yourself dripping onto his skin, his cock twitching inside of you and making you moan.

“So good, Angel.” He pants, fingers digging into your skin as he attempts to ground himself. “Feels so, so good.”

“Yeah?” Your response is breathless, chest rising and falling dramatically as you attempt to control yourself.

Involuntarily, you clench around him and moans are escaping the both of you.

“Fuck- long since have I dreamt of this day.” He admits, tossing his head back in bliss. “Better than anything I could have imagined.”

Your heart positively flutters at his words, especially given the implications behind them.

You lips part with unspoken words, but luckily for you, he seems to already know just what you want to say.

“Yes, I’ve always thought about what our first time together would be like.” He hums, thumbs stroking tenderly against your sides. “I don’t think my fantasies could ever top this.”

“Wooyoung,” your expression softens, heart swelling inside of your chest.

“You make me so unbelievably happy, Angel.” He tells you, keeping his voice low as if sharing the most intimate of secrets with you. Right now, he is. “With all that I am, I am so in love with you. I would do anything, give anything just to see you smile. I will never forget what you mean to me. I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried. You mean too much to me. Besides, you are the only one I will ever want. You are the only one I will ever need. For me, there will never be anyone else. Only you.”

Shifting slightly, you lean over him. Bringing your hands up, you cup his face in your palms, staring deeply into his eyes as you being to grind your hips against his own.

“My Wooyoung,” a moan escapes him at your words, “I am deeply in love with you. Not a day passes where I don’t count myself lucky to have you in my life. You have shown me a love, a devotion I never thought was possible for someone like me. I will never forget that, nor what you mean to me. I am grateful to have someone like you to make me laugh, to make me smile,” your expression echoes your words, “To make me feel loved. Truly, you light up my life, Sunshine.”

“My Queen.” Tears line the corners of his eyes, your words washing over his very soul and setting his whole body alight with an ecstasy he has never felt before in his life.

“I am yours, Wooyoung.” Your words have the first of his tears falling freely down his cheek. “And you are mine.”

“I’m yours, and you’re mine.” He repeats, wrapping his arms around your body and holding you tightly to his chest.

Gently, Wooyoung begins to help guide your movements over him. Every rise and fall of your warmth over his cock causes low moans to escape the both of you, each revelling in the intimacy this moment brings you. You feel connected to each other, in more than one way, basking in each other’s tender embrace.

At hearing the way your breath hitches after he shifts his hips slightly, Wooyoung smiles. His lips trail the softest of kisses along your neck, feeling the way your pulse races alongside his own. Long since have your hearts begun to beat as one, and neither of you would have it any other way.

The way you so eagerly move above him makes Wooyoung’s head spin. Desperately, he clings to you, moans bordering on growls the longer he feels your warmth squeezing him so sinfully.

“That’s it, My Queen. Claim what’s always been yours.” Wooyoung’s breathless voice reaches your ears and he feels you clench around him. His lips part, a low groan escaping him. “From the very first moment I saw you, I’ve been yours. You own every piece of me: mind, body, and soul.”

Again, the way your walls clench around him has moans falling from both of your lips this time.

“Wooyoung,” The sigh of his own name from your lips is just as breathless, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. “My King.” A pleased hum escapes you, feeling him twitch inside of you as you continue to grind your hips down against his own. “So good to me.”

He moans unabashedly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip tightens around you.

“Please, My Queen,” his words are but a mere sigh as his chest heaves with every pant. His gaze shines with nothing but pure love and dedication as he meets your own. “Kiss me.”

Your lips are on his without another thought, continuing to lean over him as your walls squeeze his cock so sinfully.

His hands pull you closer, nails shamelessly digging into your flesh. His hold is desperate, small whimpers escaping him as his brow furrows. Parting from you briefly, he absolutely adores the way you immediately come to rest your forehead against his own.

“My Angel.” His voice is airy as he whines out his beloved name for you. Eagerly, he grinds his hips up into you, meeting your every movement in tandem as you sigh his name so tenderly.

“My Beauty.” The breaths that escape him begin to boarder on low growls, chest rumbling with each exhale that he makes.

“My Queen.” This time, there’s no denying the pleased snarl that escapes him, his eyes flashing black as he takes in the wondrous sight that is you above him once more. Ever so slightly, his grip tightens around your body, pulling you flush against his chest. “Mine.”

You cannot help the way your walls involuntarily clench around him from his words.

“Yours, Wooyoung.” The blissful sigh that falls from your lips is music to his very ears. “And you’re mine.”

“Fuck-“ a desperate shudder wracks his entire body as his eyes fall shut in pleasure, a euphoric feeling unlike ever before flooding his veins as your words wash over him. “All yours, Angel. All fucking yours.”

Carefully, you push yourself back to your full height, hands supporting yourself on his chest as you continue to move above him. The way he brings a hand down to begin circling your clit with his thumb has a whimper escaping you. Your eyes fall shut, feeling that all too familiar tightening in your lower abdomen as you completely surrender yourself to the pleasure.

“Feels so fucking good, My King.” You breathe out.

“Yeah?” You fail to see the way the corner of his lips quirk deviously. “I know what will make it feel even better.”

This catches your attention, cracking your eyes open to stare down at him with all of the energy you can muster for the moment.

“Would My Angel like to know what a true monster cock feels like buried within her tight little pussy?” His gaze is sharp, calculated in the way he watches your every reaction carefully.

You find that you can’t even form words, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you absolutely keen above him. The desperate whine that escapes your lips says it all.

Every movement of your comes to a halt as you feel his cock slowly beginning to shift inside you. You can feel him expanding, his girth beginning to stretch you out in completely new ways as bumps and ridges begin to press against your inner walls.

The grin Wooyoung wears is deadly, keeping his thumb firmly pressed against your clit the whole time. Purposely, he shifts his cock to fit the contours of your pussy, pushing against your most sensitive spots as he fills your tight little hole unlike ever before.

High pitched moans falls from your lips as you attempt to support yourself above him with your hands on his chest. Your breathing deepens, feeling yourself clenching rhythmically around him as every new ridge on his cock presses deeply inside of you.

“Dragons cocks are quite unique,” he drawls out, his thumb pressing over your clit moving in the slightest of circles over you. “Every one is different, and this one is made just for you.”

With a loud cry of his name, you’re collapsing on top of him. The sudden, overwhelming feeling of your orgasm crashes into you without warning, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as tears of overstimulation line your eyes. Every shift of his hips, you feel his cock and all those special ridges brushing up inside you. Still, his thumb has yet to leave your clit.

Focussing back in on your surroundings, you register faint, pleased growls echoing lowly in your ears. Wooyoung’s chest rumbles in delight beneath you, his arms wrapping securely around your waist as he finally removes his thumb from over your clit. Slowly, you can feel his cock shifting back to its regular size inside of you.

Nothing but small whimpers and whines escape you, the only word able to form on your lips is his name. A fact of which has his chest swelling with an insurmountable amount of pride as he strokes a hand tenderly over your back.

“That’s it, Angel.” He coos softly. “I’m right here. You did so well for me. I’m so proud of you.”

Jagged pants escape you with every breath, eyes somewhat glazed over. Your mind is in a haze as you come down from your high, clinging onto him for dear life in attempts to ground yourself back to reality.

A few more minutes pass by with him cooing sweet nothings in your ear, his cock remaining buried deep within your dripping pussy. Even he knows that that was a lot for you, and he doesn’t want to make you any more sensitive right now than you already are.

“Good girl,” his voice is but a gentle caress, mirroring the way he holds you close. “My Beautiful Queen.”

Finally, you’re able to catch your breath.

“That was-“ you search for the right word, noticing how Wooyoung holds his breath in anticipation. “That was intense.”

“I’m sorry, Angel. I probably should have waited-“

“I fucking loved that.” You manage to shift your head in order to meet his gaze. “Don’t you dare apologize, Woo.”

A low, pleased growl reaches your ears. “You did?”

“Absolutely.” You collapse back on top of him. “I’m only sorry you haven’t gotten a chance to finish yet.”

“I am more than content to simply lay here like this with you.” He replies, quite earnestly at that. A fact which makes your heart swell with warmth in your chest. “I don’t need to finish.”

“Huh, that’s too bad, then.” Your brow furrows slightly, nuzzling against his chest affectionately. “I was rather enjoying this all.”

“Do you-“ he swallows thickly. “Do you not want it to end, yet?”

You take a moment to consider his words, but at the devious smirk that pulls at your lips, he knows you’re only holding him in suspension to tease him.

“No.” You hum. “I don’t.”

The pleased rumble that shakes his chest says it all.

“Then, what would you have me do?” Wooyoung is much too eager as he says this, eyes shining with an excited gleam.

Your gaze trails back upwards to meet his own, drifting passed him in the next second as your eyes land on the mirrors behind him. You clench around him.

“Uh…“ you trail off, blinking a few times to clear your head.

His brow quirks. “I know that look.”

“What look?” You turn back to him.

“The look that says you’re thinking of something, but you’re unsure if you should actually express your desires or not.” He smiles, somewhat knowingly at you.

“It’s a bit of a selfish request.” You admit.

“Angel, nothing is a selfish request when you’re with me.” His hand lovingly caresses over your spine.

You inhale sharply, blinking as if you’re still attempting to make up your mind for the moment. Then, your whole body is heating as you avoid his eyes, swallowing thickly.

“I’ve always wanted to be taken against a wall.” You admit lowly, shifting your gaze up to meet his own once more. “I want you to take me against the mirrors, Wooyoung, and I want you to have your true wings out when you do so.”

This time, it’s his turn to inhale sharply.

“Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course-“

The words have hardly finished leaving your lips when you find yourself pinned against the mirrors. The glass is cool against your back, causing a shiver to caress your spine as Wooyoung presses himself into you. Your legs are hooked over his arms, the back of your knees settling in the crooks of his elbows as he holds you effortlessly against the one panel. His breathing is heavy, head tilted forwards as he now avoids your gaze for the time being.

“You want to see my wings?” His voice is a mere whisper, yet you can still hear the heavy emotion behind his every word.

Even he cannot deny the way your walls clench around his cock still buried inside of you from his words.

“More than anything.” You breathe out. “Please, Wooyoung. Won’t you show me?”

You watch as he slowly lifts his head to meet your gaze. His eyes shine with something you don’t quite understand, but from the way that he presses into you closer, you think you actually do.

Finally, he has found the one person he can be the most vulnerable with. From dancing, to his true form, he will give his all to you. Every part of him is yours, and he will gladly put himself on display in any and every way imaginable just to see you happy.

In the flickering light of the candles, two great, bat-like wings begin to emerge from his back. They are a dark brown, the thin, leathery membrane between each bone almost appearing mahogany in colour as he stretches them outwards in the air. Faintly, you can see dark veins criss-crossing through the semi-transparent membrane binding each section of his wings together. A few faded scars litter his skin. On the top of each of the main joints where his wings bend rests a claw-like protrusion, slightly curved and tapering off into a sharp point.

There is no hiding your awe filled expression as he shakes out his wings lightly behind him. The fact that you continue to stare, completely transfixed at them with nothing but adoration and excitement shining within your gaze sets his heart racing within his chest.

“Wooyoung,” you shift your gaze back to his own, and you briefly see a hint of nervousness flash across his features. “They’re beautiful.” Your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders this whole time, move to tenderly cup his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Angel,” he swallows his building emotions, tears beginning to well in his eyes for the nth time today.

“Can I-“ your fingers twitch as you do whatever you can to prevent yourself from reaching out towards them for the moment. “May I touch them?”

You swear he stops breathing.

He blinks away his tears, nodding vigorously in the next second. “You may.”

The instant the confirmation slips past his lips, you’re lifting your hands towards his wings. Your touch is nothing but delicate, gently tracing the natural curve as he flares them out for you to have easier access.

A shudder caresses his entire body, and you’re quick to retract your hand.

“I’m sorry.” Your brow furrows in worry. “Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Oh. Oh.” A melodic giggle escapes your lips as you grin. “Should I continue, then?”

“Please do.” He nearly begs, his response a mere breathless whisper.

You do not need to be told twice.

Another shudder wracks his entire body the instant your fingers return to brushing along the curve of his one wing. Delicately, you dance feather like touches over the top, soon beginning to trace over a prominent vein you can see within the membrane.

Lowly, Wooyoung moans.

Sparing a glance at his face you notice his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in what appears to be concentration. A moment later, you find out why.

The closer your touch becomes to where his wings protrude from his back, the deeper his breathing gets. As soon as you start to gently massage the membrane attached to his shoulder blades, he moans. The instant your fingers make contact with the skin of his back, right between where his wings protrude, his cock twitches deep inside of you.

“Angel,” his head falls forward, forehead resting against the skin of your bare shoulder as he attempts to control himself for the time being.

Shifting slightly, you allow yourself to get a better angle to reach his back. Your one hand massages over the spot right between his wings while the other gently traces over the contours of cartilage and bone. Every twitch of his wings, you take note of, focussing on the movements which have him moaning the loudest, and cock throbbing inside of you.

“So pretty, Wooyoung.” You hum, nuzzling against the side of his head and placing a lingering kiss to his skin. “I absolutely adore your wings. They’re so smooth.” You emphasize your words with a finger tracing delicately against that leathery membrane. “And strong.”

Another low groan escapes him, his breathing coming in ragged pants.

“Don’t stop.” He chokes out, hips beginning to grind into yours with shallow thrusts. “Please, My Queen,” he gasps, holding you tighter, “Don’t fucking stop.”

“I didn’t know you could get even more attractive, Sunshine.” Another kiss is placed against the side of his head as you continue to massage his wings so tenderly. “Have I ever mentioned how I love men with wings?”

“Must have slipped your mind.” He groans out, wings twitching once more.

“Well, I do.” You say, your words but a low drawl on your lips. “I find them incredibly sexy, especially when I know how sensitive they can be.”

A low moan of your name falls from him in response.

“So fucking beautiful,” you nip at his ear, increasing the pressure of you one hand massaging between his shoulder blades ever so slightly. “So incredibly sexy.”

“Oh, fuck- you’re gonna make me-“ A sharp hiss escapes him as his legs begin to shake. “I’m gonna-“

“Come for me, My King.”

A guttural growl escapes him, teeth latching onto the skin of your shoulder as he feels his orgasm washing over him. His cock throbs as he releases deep inside of you, pressing you firmly against the mirror as his eyes flash black and his wings flare out behind him.

Wooyoung’s entire body shakes, whimpers and whines soon tumbling from his lips as his chest heaves with every breath. His hands dig harshly into the skin of your waist, brow furrowed as he revels in the aftermath of his high.

Never has he ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable with any other lover. However, because it’s you, he finds that he can let himself just be, succumbing to his deepest desires and letting himself be loved in a way that he wants to be loved only by you.

Slowly, he detaches his teeth from your skin, placing tender kisses over the indents he’s left behind. At least he didn’t pierce your flesh. Though, from the way you shudder pleasantly from the feeling, he doesn’t think you would have minded at all.

“My Angel,” he whimpers, grinding himself into you as he holds you flush against his body. “My Perfect Queen.”

Purposely, he extends his wings out behind him, bringing them down in one powerful swoop as he steadies himself on his feet. Again, he grinds himself into you, already feeling the way your combined fluids begin to drip out of your tight little hole and onto his thighs as he holds you close.

“Wooyoung, you-“

“Shhh,” he coos at you, nipping at the shell of your ear as he attempts to get his breathing back under control. “My Queen desires for me to take her against the mirrors of my studio, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

Another shallow thrust is given to you, your body moving in time with him as he adjusts your position slightly. He makes sure to lift you slightly off of the mirror for the moment, ensuring your back isn’t sticking to the glass due to your sweat. Once he’s confirmed you’re fine, another thrust is given, much sharper than the last one.

Flaring his wings out behind him, Wooyoung repeats the same action from only seconds before, this time using his momentum to sharply thrust into you as he does so.

A choked moan escapes you in surprise, thighs tensing against his arms in response to his movements. Of course, Wooyoung is quick to pick up on such a reaction, the corner of his lips quirking upwards as his eyes darken.

“Look at you,” Another sharp thrust aided by the tremendous beat of his wings. “You’re fucking mesmerizing, My Queen.”

Your lips part, hands seeking purchase on his shoulders as he slowly begins to increase the frequency of those sharp thrusts of his.

“Feels so fucking good around me, I don’t think I could ever get enough of this pussy.” He moans, eyes falling shut in bliss. “Just listen to how wet I’ve made you.”

As if to emphasize his point, he gives a pointed thrust, the wet squelch of his cock sinking into your dripping cunt resounding through your ears.

“Fuck, you’ve made me so sensitive.” He inhales sharply, whole body shaking as his hips snap into yours once more. You meet his gaze and you watch as his eyes flash dangerously. “I love it.”

Adjusting his grip on your body, he holds you tighter, beginning a brutal pace as he makes you bounce on his cock.

“I want to make you cream all over my cock again.” He growls. “I want to feel you squeezing around me so delicately again.”

A choked gasp escapes you as your sensitive walls flutter around his hardening cock. Already, you can feel the telltale signs of overstimulation creeping in again, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.

“I want to hear you fucking scream my name as I make you come for me.” His voice boarders on an animalistic snarl. “I want to fulfill all of your darkest fantasies, and then I want to drown you in an ecstasy you never thought was possible.”

“My-“ your breath hitches as you whine quite loudly, “King-“

“That’s fucking right, Angel.” His voice is the deepest you’ve ever heard it go. “I’m Your fucking King, and you are My fucking Goddess.”

Your lips part, but all that escapes you are whines and whimpers right now. Each snarl you hear him let out goes straight to your core, feeling yourself clenching around him almost rhythmically.

“You’re so fucking perfect, My Goddess.” Long since have his eyes bled black, his nails once again sharpening into claws as they prick into the skin of your ass. “Like you were made just for me.”

“Yours.” A single coherent thought escapes you, only serving to fuel his every movement even further.

“That’s right, My Queen.” He nips at the skin of your neck. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

You pull him in closer to you with whatever remaining strength you have. “Mine.”

A guttural groan escapes him, loud and shameless. You can tell from the way snarls continuously fall from his lips that he’s faring no better than you are, desperately doing whatever he can to bring you the utmost pleasure for the moment despite the intense overstimulation he feels.

“Come on, My Queen.” He pants out, biting and sucking at the skin of your exposed neck. “Come for me. Come for Your King.”

Briefly, his eyes flit downwards.

“Rub your clit for me, Angel, and come all over this cock.” He licks his lips. “I need to see you fall apart for me again.”

Shakily, you shift your one hand down between your two bodies, fingers trembling as you barely brush them over your clit.

A desperate whine of his name escapes you, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you at any second.

“It’s okay, My Angel.” He coos softly into your ear, nipping at it in the next second. “I’ve got you. Make yourself feel good, and then let yourself go.”

The sound of his heavy breathing is encouragement enough, for you can tell that he won’t last too much longer. Still, he waits for you. He needs to see you fall apart again before he can so much as allow himself to find release.

Always, your pleasure comes before his own.

Pressing your fingers back to your clit, your entire body shudders. Your movements are a bit sloppy, seeking that last bit of friction to help push yourself over the edge. The wet sounds of skin on skin only serve to make this moment that much more intense, and with one final flick of your wrist, you’re vision is going white as your orgasm washes over you.

A scream of his name tears from your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your whole body shudders in his hold. Not even a moment later, he stills inside of you, wings flaring as hot spurts of his come paint the inside of your walls for the second time this evening.

Sloppily, he thrusts a few more times into you, hearing you whine from the sensation. A second later, you feel yourself being pulled down onto a soft mattress. Your legs are no longer held in his arms, Wooyoung opting to wrap them firmly around his waist instead. Tenderly, he places kisses over your face, grounding you as you come down from your high.

“You did so well for me, Angel.” He hums, hand stroking lovingly over your spine. “I’m so proud of you.”

You blink up at him, still in a post-orgasmic haze. The smile you send him is tender, albeit lazy as you rest against his chest for the time being. Softly, you can hear him mumbling praises to you, his hand tracing all over your body from the top of your head to the bottom of your spine.

For a solid five minutes, you lay like this in his arms, simply basking in the afterglow. That is, until he’s breaking the silence.

“Are you okay, Angel?” His voice is a tender caress, making sure to keep his tone just above a whisper so as not to overwhelm you.

You hum, nodding your head almost absentmindedly in response.

“Just tired.” You mumble, blinking lethargically up at him.

“I’m sorry, Gorgeous. I think I might have been too intense-“

Frantically, you begin shaking your head in denial.

“It was perfect, Woo.” You find enough strength to lift your head and place a kiss onto his jawline. “I really enjoyed that. I just… don’t have the same stamina that you all have yet.”

“No,” he chuckles, placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I suppose not.”

Carefully, you allow your head to fall back onto his chest.

“Come on, Gorgeous,” he lifts you easily back into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

A blink, and you find yourself in another extravagant bathroom, unfamiliar to you, but one that you’re sure belongs to the male who sits you gently on the side of the large tub. A few minutes later, and after he ensures you drink two full glasses of water with a third on its way, the two of you are relaxing into the warmth of a bath. Wooyoung’s arms are around your waist as he holds you to his chest, your heartbeats syncing as one.

A content sigh escapes your lips, allowing your eyelids to flutter closed. You absolutely revel in his moment, adoring the way Wooyoung gently begins massaging your shoulders.

“Shouldn’t I be doing this for you?” You hum, tilting your head slightly to the side to give him better access to your neck.

“You technically already have. Besides, I wanted to do this for you.” Comes his reply, his fingers tenderly rubbing at all of the knots he can find and working them out of your muscles. “Just let me take care of you.”

You hum contently. “Okay.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself wrapped up in his bed, his blankets draped precariously over the both of you. One of his arms rests over your hip, while you curl yourself into his embrace while facing one another.

Blinking up at Wooyoung, you cup his face gingerly in your one hand.

“Are you okay, Sunshine?”

The loving smile that pulls at his features is answer enough.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life.” He admits.

“Oh, you’re just saying that.” A heat blossoms on your cheeks as you smack his chest playfully.

“I just made love with the most beautiful girl in the world.” His eyes shine with the sincerity of his honeyed words. “A beautiful Goddess who loves me, just as I love her.”

Your expression softens, heart swelling inside of your chest as you look at him. You hold nothing but fond affection for him in your gaze, fingers coming up to brush some of his stray strands of hair behind his ear.

“I do.” You confirm with a gentle nod. “I do love you, Woo.”

“And I love you,” he leans forward to peck your lips. “My Goddess.”

The vibrant smile that stretches across your features sets his heart racing inside of his chest. There is nothing that could take this moment away from the both of you right now, happy to bask in each other’s presence for the evening as you lay in his bed.

For about ten minutes, nothing more is said between the two of you. You’ve even shifted your positions slightly. Now, you lay on your back while Wooyoung curls into you. His head rests on your chest, listening to the comforting sound of your heart beating alongside his own. Tenderly, the thumb of his right hand rubs over your skin beneath your shirt as your fingers thread themselves through his hair.

“I would have said ‘yes’, you know.” The soft whisper of his voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts for the moment. At the way you look down at him in confusion, hand pausing in his hair, he’s quick to continue, “That day at the mall. Even if you didn’t call in that favour from our bet, I would have told you to go have fun with your friend.”

You blink at him mildly in shock.

“Even knowing what you know now?” There’s no malice in your voice as you ask him this, only a genuine curiosity held there as you resume combing your fingers through his hair.

“Even knowing what I know now.” He confirms with a soft hum. He curls into you deeper. “I just thought you should know.”

You smile faintly, heart warming as you watch his eyes slowly close.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I wanted to tell you ever since that day.” He replies honestly. “I just- I guess it was simply just never the right time.”

“You’re telling me now.” Comes your gentle response.

He hums, perfectly content to continue resting here with you in your loving embrace.

It is then when he gets an idea.

Wooyoung can hear your soft intake of breath as he makes his wings appear once more. Carefully, and with the greatest of ease, he wraps them around the both of you, blanketing you in both his protection and his warmth.

“I love you, My Angel.” Tenderly, he nuzzles against you, his voice but a mere whisper on the air.

“I love you, My Sunshine.” Your reply is equally tender, keeping your tone just as soft as his own.

Closing your eyes, you let out a content breath, fully relaxing into this moment with Wooyoung held in your arms.

That night, you fall asleep to the comforting sound of his heartbeat, and the brush of smooth wings surrounding you in a tender, loving embrace.

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inkofthebrain · 5 months ago

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Imperial

[Paul Atreides x Reader] 1179 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: ITS HERE! Sadly, there will be longer times between updates. But to mitigate that I have decided that shorter chapters and for frequent chapters will do better for my writing stamina

Previous chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)

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Eight———

The great hall is exceptionally expansive, its high ceilings supported by massive wooden beams. The room is filled with guests, all dressed in their finest attire, the women in flowing gowns and the men in tailored suits. The windows are bedecked with heavy velvet drapes, though right now they're left open to let in the soft golden light of the afternoon sun.

At the far end of the hall, you see the altar where the officiant stands, poised and expectant. Before him stands Paul, his figure tall and commanding, a vision in his ceremonial attire.

The atmosphere in the room is electric, charged with excitement and anticipation, yet you can’t help but feel anything other than fear. The guests are silent, their eyes fixed on you as you make way down the aisle. The music swells softly, its notes a perfect accompaniment to the scene unfolding before you.

Countless factions and political powerhouses are in attendance, all sat in organized sections waiting to bear witness. The Bene Gesserit stand in the shadows, Irulan eyes sticking out behind her veil. You give her a curt nod. Each step is carefully calculated and filled with poise. You carry a small smile on your face as you elegantly approach the altar. A facade of power.

As you make your way to stand in front of Paul, your heart is pounding in your chest. The officiant speaks, commanding the attention of the room. "we are gathered here today to witness the joining of two illustrious houses," he begins, his voice resonant and clear. "House Corino is an ancient line renowned for their wisdom and strength, their rule over the great empire marked by benevolence and prosperity. and joining them is the house of atreides, heirs to a long-standing legacy of honor and courage, their reputation built upon fearless leadership and unwavering loyalty."

as the officiant continues his speech, his voice takes on a more somber tone. "however, even in the grand tapestry of empires, a darker shadow looms. the emperor's rule has been marked by greed and corruption, injustice and tyranny. the empire has become a prisoner of its own vices, its people suffering under the weight of its excesses."

"but now," he declares, his voice rising with newfound hope. "with the union of these two great houses, a beacon of change has appeared." he turns to you and Paul, his eyes gleaming with optimism. "the atreides-corino union represents a hope for a new era, a time of prosperity and justice that will transform the empire for generations to come!"

As his voice rings through the room as you and Paul stand side by side observing the short applause. Dignitaries from all areas of the spacing guild and known universe have come to witness the eminent shift of power. The lesser houses hoped for more riches and power while the great houses feared for their standing within the new empire.

Breathe. That’s what you remind yourself. Just breathe. You have the weight of an empire on your shoulders yet you hold your head high. You refuse to falter, there is no room for weakness within this court; this you know very well.

the officiant looks towards you and Paul once more, a soft smile playing on his lips. "and so, as the stars witness this union, may the wisdom and strength of the golden lion, the honor and courage of the atreides, and the hope for a brighter future coalesce in this moment, and forever change the course of the empire's history. let the union be sealed, and the new epoch begin!"

He guides the two of you to a lavish table where union documents are played out. Paul approaches first as the room is filled with an eerie silence. He takes a deep breath before glancing down at his fathers ducal signet, pouring out a small puddle of wax and pressing his fist into it, leaving an impression of the Atredies crest. He steps back and motions for you to go next.

As you walk up you notice the existing signatures recognizing this marriage. High court officials, Lady Jessica, and your father. His lavish signature mocks you from the paper. His last decree is the overturning of his power. You take a deep breath and grab the pen layed on the table and sign your name. It is done.

Your feet trail backwards and your back is met with the arm of Paul, who then swiftly turns you to face the audience.

“House Corino and House Atreides have been conjoined! Through sickness and health, times of peace and times of war; this union will stand triumphant.” The officiant speaks into the air before turning to you and stating your name and title, “Do you recognize this union?”

Without thinking you begin to speak, “I do.” Your voice doesn’t falter.

“Duke Atreides , do you recognize this union?”

You feel Paul slightly stiffen before speaking, “I do”

From the pedestal adjacent to where you and Paul are standing lay the wedding bands. Within moments they are presented to the two of you, you with Paul’s and him with yours. No explanation is needed for the next steps.

Paul’s hand reaches for your left and you raise it to him. His hands are rough and slightly scarred, from training and perhaps Arrakis, as they slip your ring on.

It’s anything but delicate, the titanium wraps around your finger coming to a plateau at the top where a compacted sphere of spice encased in some preservative lay. It's similar to Paul’s, which you hold in your right hand. A silver band with spice marbling that demands your attention.

Your eyes flicker up to meet him as he releases your hand and outstretches his left. You slip the ring on before averting your gaze to the officiant. The silence in the room is broken.

“Duke Atreides, you may kiss your bride.” He states.

You turn your eyes to meet Paul’s before taking a deep breath. A kiss to seal your fate. The entire sentiment is ironic to you, such a soft and delicate act to mark the beginning of such struggle and pain. You have yet to see it but something within you shudders with the weight of the future.

Your eyes lock with Paul’s blue eyes as he leans in, his face cupping your cheek before his lips meet yours. His lips are soft and warm, a slight twinge that reminds you of cinnamon. Spice. Power over spice is power over all. A power which you are soon to hold.

As you pull away you wonder if Paul will falter under the weight of the crown. There is a want within him which you have yet to place, a want that proceeds past that of wealth and power. In the short time you have gotten to know your now husband, you have learnt a few things about him. He is strong and loyal like his father was yet cunning and intelligent like his mother. He has seen things you cannot even imagine, the significance of the power he holds terrifies you, yet you fear more for what power this union will birth.

———

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delicatebarness · 6 months ago

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i cant read your mind | chapter eight

Summary: Flashback to Wakanda.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Major The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Spoilers. Smut. Fluffy Smut. A hint of Angst at the end. Sergeant kink.

Word Count: 927

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A/N: Onto episode 4 now, most likely gonna be 3 parts for this one. I've had the idea of this chapter in my head forever and was so excited to finally write it. But, I am also excited to go back to annoyed Bucky next chapter when John's back in the picture.

Wakanda. Six Years Ago.

The Wakandan sun had set hours ago, around the same time Bucky left to meet with Ayo for another session. You stood by the window of his hut, staring out into the evening waiting for his return. Ayo had contacted you when they had finished for the night, explaining to you that he was free. Finally free from the brainwashing that had haunted him for so long. You immediately left the room that the Wakandans had prepared for you and made your way to Bucky’s hut.

As Bucky approached the hut, he saw you waiting for him. He entered without a word, closing the space between you in a few quick strides. He cupped your face, kissing you deeply, passionately. It was filled with a mix of relief, gratitude, a raw desire.

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Your bodies pressed together as Bucky's hand dropped from your face, roaming your back.

Bucky broke the kiss for less than a second, his lips finding your body again as he trailed down your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, as your fingers tangled in his hair. A soft moan escaped your lips as he placed a soft kiss against a sensitive spot below your ear. His hand found its way to the gem of your shift, lifting it effortlessly over your head and tossing it aside before finding your lips with his again.

Undressing each other in haste, your clothes were discarded carelessly onto the hut floor. His eyes filled with hunger as his gaze met yours for a moment, taking in the image of you standing bare before him.

His voice was husky as he murmured, “You’re amazing, Baby Girl,”

You smiled, sliding your hand up and down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles and the scars on his shoulder. “And, you’re finally free, Sergeant,” you replied, your voice breathless with anticipation.

Without another word, he lifted you and carried you to the makeshift bed. Laying you down, his eyes danced over your body, taking in every inch of you. His lips captured yours in a hungry kiss and he positioned himself above you. You arched into his touch as his hand explored your body, your nails digging into him.

Your kisses grew more desperate as his fingers found their way to your inner thigh, teasing his way up to your entrance with gentle strokes. The stokes continued as he reached it. You moaned into his mouth, hips moving in rhythm with his touch.

Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself where his fingers previously were, his gaze stayed locked with yours. And, with a single thrust, he buried himself deep inside you. You gasped at the sensation.

Once he began to move, his hips rocked against yours in a slow steady rhythm. Your back arched off the bed as the pleasure consumed you. His name fell from your lips, driving him to push harder.

Each movement was deliberate, every touch ignited the desire and longing for one another that neither of your minds let you admit. His thrusts were measured, driving deeper into your core. A chorus of moans and sighs from both your lips filled the hut.

The sensation of him filling you caused you to wrap your legs around his waist as a wave of pleasure coursed through you.

The tension within you grew, the pleasure building, it was almost unbearable. You were teetering on the edge, Bucky’s movement grew more urgent as your mumbled begs strained from your voice. “Please, Sergeant, please.”

“Please what, baby?” his voice whispered against your ear, his lips finding your neck again.

“Please can I finish, Sergeant?” you pleaded, your voice thick with need and desperation.

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your skin, and he continued with his steady, hard thrusts. Each one pushed you closer and closer. He knew exactly what you needed, he could feel the tension within you reaching its breaking point.

“Let go for me,” he murmured as his grip on your hips tightened. “Let me feel you come apart, baby.”

His permission pushed you over the edge, and with a ragged cry, you shattered beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure rushed through you as he continued his rhythm.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth bored into your skin as his high followed closely behind yours. His body began to tremble with the aftershock of his climax.

Bucky collapsed beside you, and then for a long while, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex and the only sound was your ragged breaths.

A realization washed over you like a wave crashing. For the first time, he had been gentle and tender. It was filled with emotion and connection. Something that was a stark contrast to the aggressive, rough encounters that would normally leave your body looking like you just came back from an intense mission.

The weight became too much to bear, you began to gather your clothes from the floor. The simple act of dressing provided you with a sense of normalcy.

You felt his intense gaze watching you silently.

“I… I think I should go,” you murmured, unable to turn to face him.

Without a word from him, you slipped out of the hut, leaving behind the warmth and intimacy. Instead, enveloping yourself with cool night air as tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

---

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katuschka · 1 month ago

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Olalla Chapter Eight

Josh Kiszka x f!OC x Jake Kiszka

9.300 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): alcohol consumption, cigarettes, kissing, vaginal sex, allusions to rough sex, jealousy, betrayal, language, loss of an unborn child, trauma, angst, talking about death

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Previous chapter Olalla masterpost

If there's a possibility Today, you'd stay with me I would stop and start anew If I jump, would you jump too? If you want it Let it go

Agnieszka, Zakopane, Saturday

The fog was so thick that day that it made it impossible to see for more than a few metres ahead, and yet I spent nearly two hours standing behind the fence, wrapped just in my sheer black cardigan, looking out for them.

They were late. It was to be expected, considering both the weather and the traffic that day, but it still made me nervous and the feeling only kept growing with each passing minute. Jake had texted me, so I knew they left Krakow shortly after lunch. It was now almost 3 pm and still no sight of them. Each and every passing car made my heart jump and skip a beat. Hearing footsteps behind me, I tried to appear outwardly calm, but dad still noticed my agitation.

“Come inside, Neszka, or else you’ll catch a cold. You’re shivering.”

I had a secret ally in dad. When I told my parents that Joshua and his brother Jake were coming back, mother just rolled her eyes and mumbled something about “madness in this house”. But dad, he smiled knowingly and patted me on the shoulder, just like now. He knew this meant a lot, because I was wearing a flowy dress in the dreary weather. I must have looked completely deranged, standing there in just my flip flops and shuffling around on my toes. Like one of those crazy young wenches from folk songs, although I was no longer that young, which only made it worse. But he understood.

“I’m fine. Any minute now,” I mumbled, looking towards the sharp bend on the road once again. Doing that, I felt like a young girl once again. I indeed was shivering, but with anticipation. At the same time, I was dreading the moment of their arrival. I didn’t know what to expect.

He disappeared inside the house, only to reemerge a minute later with a hip flash. I laughed nervously when he handed it to me: “For the nerves.”

“Is it that obvious?”

He just smiled. I took a healthy swig without hesitation. And because I hadn’t eaten much that day, the effect was immediate. I could feel the wave of warmth spreading at the back of my head as well as between my legs. However, even the sudden lightheadedness couldn’t prevent my heart from starting to flutter in my throat as soon as I saw the car that was here just two days ago.

We quickly opened the gate and I still clung to it as my dad motioned to them to drive inside, shoving them their designated parking spot.

Our eyes met briefly when the car passed me on the gravel driveway. The sight of him and the look in his eyes made my stomach drop again. What if this was a mistake? What if he didn’t want to come and this was yet another bad decision we had made… I bit my lip and closed the gate slowly, when I heard dad already greeting them in his own, enthusiastic style. “Zapraszamy! Zapraszamy ponownie. Come!” That brought me back from my reverie very quickly. Jake was the first one to get out of the car, and was now shaking hands with my dad, obviously taken aback by the sudden flood of words and not understanding a single one. Both amused and terrified at the same time, I quickly scuttled towards them. “Dad, slow down! You’re scaring them. Sorry, Jake, I…”

“Veela, hi!” He pulled me into an embrace with a smile. I genuinely shivered this time. He pulled away and placed the back of his hand on my cheek, frowning. “Uh, you’re cold, babe! Have you been waiting here the whole time? Sorry we’re late. I should have texted. I just…”

“...got us lost three times because he always took a wrong turn on the fucking roundabout.”

Before I could fully process the “babe”, my head snapped towards the source of that familiar honey voice and now I watched them – even more flabbergasted – flipping each other off. Joshua shot my dad a meek apologetic smile before his eyes finally met mine. “Hello, Olalla,” he almost whispered.

No warm embraces, no happy reunions. This is why I dreaded their arrival, because I feared it would be like that. What now? He kept standing there, with his hands in his pockets and that unreadable expression on his face again. We couldn’t act like two strangers. That was unbearable. I mustered all my courage and went around the car to greet him properly. I could see what Jake had meant. He looked different, and really not very well. His hair was significantly shortened, probably because of the shaved patch around the scar behind his left ear that went well beyond his previously trimmed sidecuts. There was no point in keeping the long braid, and he was left with a messy turf of dishevelled short curls at the top of his head.

But that wasn’t the biggest difference. He could be completely bald and I wouldn’t notice as long as the familiar frisky light shone through his beautiful eyes. But it was gone. He was also significantly thinner than the last time I saw him. His pale, slightly hollowed cheeks and the dark circles below his eyes made me feel suddenly mournful for the lively boy that got lost somewhere and I wanted to do anything I could to bring him back. “Are you hungry?”

No, I couldn’t think of anything better to say at that moment. Would you?

“No, not really.” He tried to smile and took my hands in his, and we just stood there like a young, awkward couple being forced to dance. I kept looking at him, as if hypnotized, searching for any sign that would tell me he wanted to be here. But once again, he just kept stroking my knuckles. “He’s right. Your hands are cold. Silly girl…”

“Come on Josh, let’s get inside. It’s drizzling.” It was Jake, ending our ‘little moment’ abruptly with a sharp tone of his voice. “And yes, he’s hungry. Mrs. Sikorska made us dinner and you’re gonna eat it, fucker!”

My mom indeed did. She might not have been happy with the whole situation, but she always relished in any opportunity to feed anyone. So, after they unpacked and got comfortable, we met downstairs for a feast, because that’s what it was, for the lack of a better word.

“Do you greet everyone like that?” Jake asked me, obviously amused.

“Oh no, absolutely not…just relatives, friends, friends of friends, most of the neighbours and stray rockstars,” I replied, slightly embarrassed, but encouraged by his warm smile.

I think that was the first time I heard his genuine, heartfelt laughter.

Jake was really a sweetheart. He kept thanking profusely for everything, making my mom grin from ear to ear. I could tell she liked him, even though he was maybe a bit too bohemian-looking for her taste. It was obvious he knew how to win a woman’s heart, and not even a language barrier could stop him from doing his magic. It was amusing to observe their interaction. It was also clear that he was a natural. And sincere. When he took a bite of a strawberry pierogi, his eyes widened with delight. “Josh! We loved these! Remember?” It was met only with a soft “hm”.

We shared a few worried glances, me and Jake. A few with my dad, too. Joshua noticed, but he chose to ignore it, just as much as all our attempts to cheer him up.

He ate at least half of his portions and really tried to be polite, but he just seemed distant. His smiles were forced and never reached his eyes. It was heartbreaking to watch, because that was not the man I got to know. He didn’t say much during the whole time. But to be fair, he was giving the same silent treatment to Jake. So, it ended up with me and Jake talking about roundabouts and tilt-turn windows and other things that baffled him, until my dad completely hijacked the evening.

At one point he disappeared in the cellar and came back with a bottle of juniper brandy, pouring everyone a shot. Everyone except Joshua, because of his pain meds. He insisted that he wanted to hear more about the band, and while I tried to stop him, trying to argue that it wasn’t the best time, that they were probably exhausted, Jake insisted that it was completely ok. At first they forced me to be their interpreter, which proved to be completely unnecessary after a few more shots. In the meantime, Joshua just kept sitting there, looking sullen and weary, trying to smile every now and then, but not really participating.

In my slightly inebriated state, I turned to Jake and whispered to him that we should maybe call it a night.

“He’s fine,” he hissed back. “And he needs company. Been buried in that hotel room for too long.” I didn’t argue, but I had a nagging feeling that he was talking more about himself.

So, while Jake and my dad kept working on mastering their secret, cringy sign language, I finally mustered enough courage to slide my hand across the table hesitantly. To my relief, he took it, enveloping my fingers in his clammy palm. I noticed Jake side-eyeing us warily.

Joshua paid it no mind. He rested his head on his other hand and smiled lightly. “So, how are you?”

“Fantastic,” I lied and reciprocated the smile. The mixture of feelings clouding my brain felt far from ‘fantastic’, but I was just happy to be close to him again, even though it was painful to see him broken like that.

“Em sorry for this,” I motioned towards the other two. “You must be tired. And bored.”

“No, I’m fine. I say stupid and mean shit when I’m drunk. Don’t you?!” His grip on my hand tightened while he looked up and bore his mournful eyes into mine, and it felt like a whip slash across my cheek. I was left speechless, completely taken aback… Yes,...yes, I did.

I…Joshua, Em…”

“Let’s talk about it when you’re sober.”

Next to me, I heard Jake clear this throat. “It’s late. Maybe I should take Josh to his room. He needs to rest.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jake! Stop talking about me as if I wasn’t even here. I’m not a toddler.” His voice resonated through the room and all eyes turned to him.

“Then stop behaving like one!” Jake spat, but his features immediately softened when Joshua clutched his forehead, clearly in pain. He stood up and patted his brother on the shoulder, while casting me an apologetic smile at the same time. “C’mon Josh, let’s go upstairs. You really need to get some rest. Sorry.”

I needed a cigarette. Desperately. I hadn’t had one in years, but I just couldn’t help it. Unable to drive in my intoxicated state, and still in my dress and flip flops, I walked all the way to the nearest gas station to get a pack.

Like a madwoman.

My bare shins felt completely wet after a while in the drizzle. So did my cheeks. There’s something eerily calming about foggy, early autumn evenings. The weather is still mild enough to allow for long whimsical walks, with the spectral atmosphere of dying nature that makes you turn your attention inwards. The muddle inside my head desperately needed some introspective cleanup.

And nicotine.

I wholeheartedly enjoyed the way my head was spinning. Drunk in love. What a nauseating feeling. When you’re still quite cheerful, but you already know you’ve had too much.

Was I cheerful? I shouldn’t have been. But I couldn’t help it. He was here.

Acting like… a jerk?

Wasn’t his fault. And my god! He was still so fucking beautiful! I needed him to stay that way. It was now my mission to make him better.

The sky was clearing while I was on my way back and a few stars blinked through the dissipating clouds. Surely a sign, huh? The cool air sobered me up a bit and I wanted to stay outside just a little bit longer.

Back home, I opted for the garden bench swing. Curling up under a blanket I grabbed on my way there, I finally lit my much-desired cig. A couple inhales later, I could feel that familiar sense of calm spreading throughout my whole being. I closed my eyes and swung one leg down to ground myself, because my head was still spinning a bit.

“It’s cold.”

I opened one eye tentatively. It was Jake. Having been lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear his footsteps on the overgrown damp grass. I looked up, expecting him to continue, but that was it. Jake was a man of a few words. I chuckled when I saw him: Just him standing next to the bench swing, looking around the garden and me wondering if he was able to see anything at all because of the sunglasses, in spite of the overcast and the fact that it was already almost dark. I think he understood the meaning behind my amused smile, because he finally took them off sheepishly.

“Yeah…yeah, it is, I think…” I replied at last. “But I hope you’re not here to talk about the weather. I was made for more sopsh..tikated discourse,” I said smugly.

Yes, I was still a bit drunk.

He gave me a Mona Lisa smile and made a simple gesture with his hand, asking me without words if he could sit next to me. I nodded and shifted a bit to make more room for him. I also offered him a cigarette, which he accepted.

“Yeah, I can see that. I mean, aren’t you?”

“Cold? No…we Gorale are used to cold weather. This is nothing but a cool evening breeze,” I sighed contentedly with a lazy smile, letting the said breeze swipe across my heated face again. It was true. We never got lulled by hot summer days, knowing too well how fickle the weather could be. Just like the human mind. Or our fate. You want to survive? Well, better brace yourself. I had tried, and obviously failed, but I was determined to try again.

The truth was that both my feet and hands were already ice cold, but he didn’t need to know that.

“So you’re basically highlanders.”

“We’re literally highlanders. That’s what the word means.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For not knowing Polish?”

“For his behavior.”

That sobered me immediately. It was exactly the topic my hazy mind had been trying to avoid. I glanced instinctively towards his roof window, but it was completely dark. Not even a bedside lamp was switched on, apparently. “Is he sleeping already?” Jake followed my gaze.

“Yeah, probably…or maybe just lying in the dark, I don’t know. I hope you’ve not sad.”

“Sad? No…no, I’m not sad…I think? I’m definitely not shocked. It’s definitely how I feared it would be. He…It just feels like he’s not happy to see me. Like he’s even mad at me, maybe.”

“No…don’t believe it for one second. If he’s mad at anyone, it’s me…and himself.” He paused to light his own cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke in the air above us before he continued. “His face lit up when I told him we were coming back here. It was short-lived, replaced by that sullen stare very quickly, but make no mistake. He’s happy to be here. He’s just scared.”

“Scared? Of me?”

“Um, no, not really…maybe a bit…but…Is there something you’re scared of losing, because it would mean you’d lose an essential part of yourself?”

His question made me smile. Of course there is. I motioned towards the southern skyline where the outline of Giewont was still visible in the semi-darkness. “Home. This. I mean, not just the rocks and the trees. The place, my family, being able to take care of other people...it’s hard to explain. It’s the peace of mind. Away from the world’s troubles. I studied tourism in Krakow; most of my former schoolmates secured cool and fancy jobs for themselves. Even here in Zakopane, I could pretty easily be a manager of one of those luxurious new hotels, but I chose to return back here deliberately,” I motioned towards the house. “We care, you know? About one another, about the place, about other people who want to experience it. I think that if it weren’t for this place, I’d probably be a social worker or something. It’s just something I need to keep doing. It’s what my grandma taught me. People need people.”

Jake smiled softly but didn’t look at me. He just nodded, partly lost in his own thoughts. “You’d be the prettiest social worker I’ve ever met. Not that I’ve met many social workers. Not really my social bubble…,” He chuckled when I punched his shoulder.

“Jake! I’m serious! But thank you…”

“I know. Sorry. It’s just…that last line sounded eerily familiar, so I just wanted to lighten the mood. Err, anyway,” he cleared his throat: “For me, it’s the playing. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I’m good at…and I almost lost it before I even started. See?” Holding the cig in between his pouty lips, he rolled up his sleeve to show me a long scar on his left forearm.

“Wow, that’s an impressive scar!” I may have sounded a bit too overzealous, because he turned his head at me, his eyes open wide. He was still smiling, though.

“Impressive, you say?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” I laughed. “It’s just something boys at school would say back when I was little. Like a badge of courage, or something like that. They would brag about it.” We laughed together.

“Yeah, it’s bitchin’, isn’t it,” he chuckled while examining it one more time before his face sobered. “Back then, I didn’t feel that way. I broke my arm in middle school. It was nasty and I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to play the guitar again. I played it cool, didn’t really want anyone to see what was going on inside my head, but later, in the middle of the night, I just couldn’t take it anymore, and I kept weeping and sobbing in my bed until late at night…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No, there’s more to it. What I really wanted to say is that…we shared a room, me and Josh and our younger brother Sam. So, I was just lying there and crying and letting it all out, you know, because I thought the other two were fast asleep. And then I felt my bed shift. He snuggled closer and wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear that everything would be ok. It took a while until I calmed down, but he was there for me the whole time, repeating that it would be fine, that I would be able to play again. And I believed him. The fact is that the injury allowed my play even better eventually, and to this day I think it was all Josh’s doing. Because, that’s who he is. He wants to fix people. His heart just overflows with love and it’s his life mission to share it. And lately, he’s been thinking that he’s just damaged everything and everyone. And that scares him.”

The temperature dropped during the time we sat there and I felt it deep inside my bones. But it was a different kind of chill. The cold air may have made my cheeks prickle, but the tightness I felt around my stomach and my heart had nothing to do with it. I swallowed hard and asked the question that’s been bothering me ever since that moment in the dining room. “Does he remember what happened right before the injury?”

“I don’t know. Bits and pieces. Most of what he told me was before you arrived at the hospital. He said you two had some argument and then you went looking for him, obviously. Why? Is there something more?”

I could feel tears welling in my eyes again, so I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath to prevent it from happening, but he already noticed. His hand on my shoulder internally startled me, but I didn’t wince. I really needed some form of human contact.

“We actually had a big fight the night before the storm. I’m sure he remembers that. Whatever had been between us, I basically ended it, and he was about to leave early. I think he already had a plane ticket when he went on that one last hike.” I thought I would start crying again but instead, a strange sense of calmness enveloped my whole being, as if it was something that was finally over. I felt different.

“You need to understand how I used to be. I wouldn’t say no to a pretty guy, to put it diplomatically. It was just my perverted way of dealing with a previous heartbreak and it never meant anything. I was engaged once, but then…but then I just had acquaintances, but no boyfriends. At first I thought he was yet another visitor that could make another day more palatable, but then something changed. I really liked him, you know, and I didn’t want to. Part of me kept refusing him, but another part kept being drawn to him. The more insufferable I was about that, the more relentless he seemed in his own endeavours. Even after I learned that he liked guys. Even then he made me feel beautiful and wanted me to feel love...if you know what I mean.”

He kept listening without interrupting me, only nodding from time to time, or reaching out for yet another cigarette. It was obvious that we would finish the box pretty soon. Only when I got to this part of the story, he finally spoke.

“Yeah, I suppose I know what you mean…and then?” he asked softly and let out another plume of smoke, before he held the lighter for me to light another one of mine. “...and then I learned the whole story and I suddenly felt like he never meant it. I felt used…which was very ironic, as my own sister reminded me very soon after that. Anyway, I said some mean things to him…”

Jake huffed through his nose, nodding his head. “Yeah, he remembers this. Listen, I can’t blame you. I mean… He’s not perfect. But I don’t wanna judge him, because, honestly, I’m way worse…” I wanted to speak up, but he made a dismissive gesture with his hand and continued. “I really wanted them to get together again, you know, him and Christopher, but I guess sometimes things are beyond repair...”

“Jake…”

“But if – at the end of the day – you feel like you’re past it, just let him know how you feel, because...”

“JAKE!”

“I’m long past it. I wanted to tell him the very next day, but then the storm hit and he didn’t come back. That’s why I was asking if he remembers anything that happened right before the injury, because I told him up there… At first I said that when he was already sleeping, like a coward. And then I said it again and again while we were waiting for help, but he was drifting in and out of consciousness. But there are things I didn’t tell him, and now I think he really should know.”

“Such as?”

“He really did fix me. If that was his goal, it was successful. I may be heartbroken, but I’m different. I simply can’t believe he managed to do that in a week! Others have been trying for years. I know it sounds absolutely crazy. He shouldn’t leave without knowing.”

“Hey, veela, listen…”

A sudden gust of wind interrupted our little talk and I shivered violently. “Ok, I guess that’s enough. Let’s go inside,” he basically ordered. “It’s late anyway.”

“I’m not tired yet,” I protested as he was literally pushing me inside, and I yawned immediately after, which made me giggle and hiccough.

“Oh, Jesus,” he laughed. “I can see why he likes you.”

We continued the little banter all the way up to my door. “But I have one more question!”

Jake rolled his eyes exasperatedly.”Yeah?”

“You said you’re way worse,” I giggled again. “I hope you don’t mind me asking what you meant by that. I’m in the mood for some rock&roll gossip as my bedtime story.” My old nosy self was back at it again. But just like Joshua, he didn’t seem to mind, although Jake was generally way more curt.

“Nothing interesting, I’m afraid. Just me being an ‘asshole who was never around.’ It never made the headlines,” he chuckled sarcastically, but quickly recovered himself when he saw my frown. “Sorry. I mean, me being ‘way worse’ means that sometimes I’m being mean on purpose. You were on the receiving end too, so you should know. Goodnight, veela,” he squeezed my shoulder again with a sigh before he disappeared upstairs. I shivered again.

In spite of certain things that had happened, namely the havoc Bartek had caused previously, our place was still relatively safe and secluded, offering much more privacy than a hotel room in Krakow. The media storm that followed the accusation was not yet over, but they were pretty much out of the wind here, so to speak. We could keep them safe, so that me and Jake could focus solely on Joshua’s recovery. And we did. I made sure of that.

Jake told me that he spent a lot of time on the phone, talking to their lawyers during their stay in Krakow. The photos David previously posted on his public accounts were a very strong evidence against his latter claims, but Jake just wanted to settle to make it all go away as quickly as possible.

The two of them spent most of the time outdoors, as fresh air and plenty of light exercise was essential for Joshua’s speedy recovery, and Jake was positive that enough time spent in nature would help to heal his mind as well. I joined them whenever I could. We wandered through the woods and climbed the lower hills. Sometimes, I could sense that Joshua started to feel uneasy when we wandered to higher altitudes, so I quickly changed the route or made us turn back, even though we never got past the tree line. Sometimes we just took a walk around the town, eating donuts or grilled cheese with cranberry jam.

We spent a lot of time talking, me and Jake. I learned a lot more about the band and I told him embarrassing stories from my college years. Joshua rarely joined the conversation. He was a few steps ahead of us most of the time, lost in his own thoughts or just looking around, or both. A few times he took his camera with him and spent the whole time taking pictures. Once I squatted by the side of the path to observe a tiny snail on a mushroom, until the sound of a shutter startled me and when I looked up, I saw him pointing his lens at me. He turned away quickly and took another picture of the landscape.

Once he lent me the camera so that I could take a snap of the two of them by the stream. ‘For mom,’ as they said. It was almost like a vacation. Almost…

My mom started calling them Kuba and Jozko, much to their amusement and my dismay. Gradually, she grew fond of them. Well, at least one of them.

Joshua kept driving her crazy though. He ate only half of what she prepared for them, even though I had warned her about the meat. She was stubborn though, convinced that she could ‘talk sense into him’...and failed every time.

It was different with Jake. He had her wrapped around his finger pretty soon. It was partly because he often insisted on helping us in the kitchen. She wasn’t having it at first, because “her kitchen wasn’t a place for men”, let alone our guests, but once she learned that he in fact could cook, she let him do whatever he wanted.

“The dark one is handsome,” she said once when we were washing the dishes.

“Mom, they look the same.”

A high pitched “Eh…” was all she said and I resumed scrubbing the pot.

“But I really wonder what you’re trying to achieve here,” she continued after a while.

“They’re paying customers, aren’t they. Everything else is my business, and not your concern.”

“Eh…” she scoffed again. “But don’t expect me to scrape you off the floor again.”

On the fifth day, we finally made him laugh.

We went out for dinner for a change, and I chose one of the pubs with live music. At one point, Jake persuaded me to dance, even though there wasn’t enough room and everyone was looking at us. Joshua was watching us with a wide grin on his face.

“Jake, look!” I gestured towards the table, grinning myself and completely out of breath.

“Ready for one more dance?”

“I don’t know, maybe…” Before I could react, Jake was already by the table, drumming on the lacquered wood with his fingertips. “C’mon, big bro, chop chop!”

He needed some persuading, but at last, I found myself in Joshua’s arms again, bathing in his radiant smile.

It was getting better.

The mood changed completely and as the evening proceeded, I watched with delight as the two of them were making jokes and teasing each other. Sometimes I tried to chime in, but I was no match for the two of them.

And then it happened. Joshua was cackling like a little child, and he couldn’t stop. It was contagious and I soon joined in. He grabbed my shoulder to steady himself, and buried his face in my neck, nuzzling his nose against my skin. I froze. It was pleasant, more than pleasant actually, but it left me stunned. Jake’s own smile slowly turned to a melancholy stare. I watched him across the table, waiting for him to break eye contact or smile again, but he never did. He just kept watching me until Joshua finally recovered and straightened up. Only then he averted his gaze. While Joshua got back a portion of his glowing personality back, Jake remained in this strange, broody state of mind until we got back home.

I still had some work to do in the kitchen that evening, because my dining outside didn’t save me from my regular duties, while the guys went back to their rooms. Mom tolerated my frequent absence during their stay only as long as the work was done. I was heading back to my private flat when I heard some strumming coming from the common room. It was a beautiful, plaintive melody. Our guests sometimes used the room for singing and playing various instruments, but this was different. Intimate and almost ethereal. Drawn by curiosity, I hesitantly entered.

It was Jake, sitting on a fur-covered bench by the electric fireplace. I recognized the guitar immediately. For years, it stood propped up against the wall just behind the corner, collecting dust.

Jake acknowledged my presence by the doorway and motioned to me to come and sit next to him. He didn’t stop playing until he finished playing the whole song, and I just sat there with my hands in my lap awkwardly. I felt like an intruder, but then he smiled and bowed his head, like a true entertainer.

“It’s a truly beautiful melody… very mournful.”

“Yeah, I wrote it this spring on one particularly mournful morning. It’s called Lulu’s Lullaby.”

I always admired artists and their ability to transform life into unfiltered beauty. If it comes from the heart, there’s always a story behind it, and I’ve always found it intriguing. “I would say that this Lulu is a lucky girl, but the song doesn't sound happy at all.”

“My imaginary daughter. But I don’t even know if it was a daughter. I just always thought of angels as feminine.”

It was as if he poured a bucket of ice cold water on me. Sometimes I’m worse than a blunt hammer, really. Speaking before thinking. Of course it couldn’t be about some lucky girl. What was I thinking? “Jake, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be. That’s history. I mean, it's just yet another nice tune now, I suppose. I still play a lot of other songs that are about something which is no longer true or relevant. Anyway,” he cleared his throat and made an attempt to sound a bit more cheerful, before I had a chance to say that something like having happened just a few months ago doesn’t sound like history! And the way he played it… “Those strings are ANCIENT!”

“Yeah…more than six years,” I replied absentmindedly, still shocked. Meanwhile, Jake seemed on a mission to lighten up the mood. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“I was almost afraid to tune it. I refuse to wear an eye patch unless it’s a temporary fashion statement. Yours?” he patted the wooden body gently.

“No, it belonged to my ex-fiancé.”

“Damn. What got in his head that he left two such beauties here?” he exclaimed dramatically, making me huff. We were even.

“A stone.” I tried to keep a straight face, secretly horrified by my own tasteless joke as well as the fact that the whole situation suddenly seemed comical to me. But it was just my old personality, with my Monty Python-ish sense of humour, peeking through the musty curtain of doom. It made me realize – with a slight shock – that I was really, finally, completely over it. Dominik was a happy memory.

Jake looked perplexed.

“Joshua didn’t tell you? He’s dead.” I watched in slow motion how his face changed from confused to horrified. It was now my turn to ease the tension.

“Don’t worry. There’s a reason why the strings are 6 years old. That is history.”

And that was a lie.

“Well…no, truth be told, it was my everyday reality until very recently. But I had a good therapist.”

“Oh…,” he breathed out as the realization finally hit.

“He used to teach me to play, though. Dominik, I mean,” I pointed at the guitar. That’s why I kept it. I was never good at it. I always struggled with barre chords. Got cramps after a while.”

Jake suddenly shifted on the bench and threw one leg over the bench, moving closer to me and handing me the instrument. He was sitting sideways right behind me now. “It’s easy. Lemme show you. You just need to relax this muscle here, and rely more on the thumb. The rest is practice, as these muscles get stronger. Let’s try that.” I took the guitar from his hands hesitantly, too surprised to even protest, and waited for more instructions.

“So, let’s try the F chord first, whaddaya think?” His chin was almost touching my shoulder now and I could feel the heat emanating from his body. So familiar. He was making me slightly nervous. I tried to focus on the task ahead instead and positioned my fingers to press the said chord, biting my lip in concentration. I tried to play it, but all we got was an unpleasant, rattling sound.

“Oh, I see it now!” He snaked his left arm behind me and wrapped his fingers around my wrist to push my hand gently into a better position. “Relax the pinkie just a bit, you’re too tense. Press again…Yeah, like that. Strum it now.”

I tried again, and it worked. “Wow,” I laughed, turning my head slightly sideways towards him and froze when our eyes met. He was looking right into me and I could feel his hand move, but instead of withdrawing completely, he rested it on my lower back. “Jake?” I whispered, unable to move. He raised his other hand and brushed his fingertips across my lower lip. They travelled slowly across my cheek until he cupped my jaw and all that time I just sat there and let him move even closer. He closed the gap between us eventually and I gasped softly when our lips touched. It encouraged him to deepen the kiss and I still did nothing to stop him. I was barely aware of him taking the guitar from my hands and putting it on the table next to him. He took my face in his both hands then, and when the tip of his tongue darted tentatively in between my lips, I felt them part and I heard him moan. Only then I consciously made myself stop, startled. I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away.

“No,” I whispered. With my mind still trapped in that strange haze, I slowly stood up and turned to leave, as if in a dream. “Please…” he whispered back and grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. That sobered me up completely.

I turned back and pointed my finger at him frantically. “No! I don’t know what game you’re trying to play now, but just…no!”

“Veela, I…”

“Stay away from me! Are you testing me, or what? Oh god, you’re such an asshole.” I stormed out of the room, shaking, and angry, and confused, and sad, and I don’t know what else. I just didn’t know how to interpret it.

I, however, knew exactly what I wanted. It ignited something in me and the idea of spending yet another night alone in my bed, lost within my thoughts, scared me. Without really thinking, I found myself climbing the attic stairs. It was a basic human need. Just like thirst, equally unbearable. I had been pining for him for so long, and he was just within reach again. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to feel him again. Everything else be damned.

I knocked first, and a feeble “come in, it’s not locked” followed. I slowly pushed the door handle down and tentatively entered the room, only to find it shrouded in complete darkness.The light from the hall illuminated the outline of his body on the bed. He was lying on his back under the blanket, with his eyes staring fixedly at the ceiling. He turned his face towards me and watched me - or rather my silhouette - in the door frame for a while, surprise evident on his face. I realized he expected it to be Jake. “Joshua? Did I wake you?”

“No, no, I’m just resting. Please, come in,” he repeated softly and turned towards me, resting himself on one elbow. I closed the door behind me, shrouding us in near darkness again, and tiptoed towards his bed.

“Is me being here ok?” I whispered.

“Yes. Yes, completely ok. Please, darling, sit.” He patted the mattress right next to him, and I did, placing my hand on the blanket next to his.

“I needed to be with you.”

I heard him swallow harshly. “I needed to be with you, too. I’m glad you’re here, Olalla.” He placed his hand on top of mine, stroking it gently.

“Can I join you?” My question was met with silence. I almost lost all my remaining courage and wanted to go back, when he finally spoke.

“I’m naked.”

I didn’t know why…or rather, I knew very well why…my heart started beating wildly. “Even better,” I tittered, though it sounded more like a sob. I felt his body shift and he lifted the blanket, inviting me in. I shed my slippers quickly and slid next to him, with my arms folded. I didn’t dare touch him yet. “Hey,” I whispered.

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I could now see the prominent features of his face. “Hi,” he breathed out and smiled, and his fingertips traced the outline of my left cheek. “I think you should take off your clothes. This is not fair, you know.” I felt his hot breath on my face and I closed my eyes as his hand slid under the blanket. He stroked my arm all the way from my shoulder to my bent elbow, and then continued further down until he reached the hem of my shirt and slid his fingers under. I gasped when he touched my bare skin, and as if on cue, his lips brushed delicately against mine. “You do it,” I whimpered and he kissed me in earnest, making my heart pound against my ribcage.

“I was afraid you’d never come,” he whispered against the flushed skin of my cheek when our lips finally parted. After he pulled my shirt over my head, he struggled with my legging in the darkness, making us both giggle. Completely naked at last, I pulled the blanket over us again.

“I didn’t know you wanted me…” My fingers slid down the hot skin of his abdomen and grabbed his already hard dick, making his whole body twitch.

“Silly girl,” he moaned as his hand slid across my back and he pulled me closer to him. For a while, we just lay there kissing and caressing each other, savouring the moment. I needed more. I needed him inside me again. Pushing him on his back, I straddled him and slid a hand between us, making him gasp. I positioned myself quickly and slid the tip of his dick inside. His back arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream. I crashed back onto him and attacked his neck with my lips ferociously just as he pushed his length inside with one swift thrust, fighting for dominance.. “No, baby, it’s my turn,” I steadied him and pushed my knees forward for better leverage. “Keep still and let me play.”

“Naaah,” he gasped as I started moving. “No, I won’t.” He tried to thrust in me again, disrupting my rhythm.

“Yes, you will,” I groaned as I grabbed his shoulders and straightened myself up. “You’re my patient, after all, remember?” I rolled my hips playfully and he yelped. “My wounded baby,” I did it again. I loved listening to his moans. “My poor little thing,” and again…

I underestimated him. Thinner than before, he still had enough strength in him, especially when my teasing made his body pump adrenaline into his system. He pushed my right knee back, grabbed my hips and turned us over in one swift motion, accentuating his point with a sensual deep thrust. “I need to do this, darling. Don’t argue.” I couldn’t even if I wanted to, because he silenced me with his tongue. I felt the pleasure take over every particle in my body and I surrendered to him completely. We melted into each other once again.

They say that you can find the truth at the bottom of the bottle of wine. Likewise, I think that postcoital phases are the best time for telling that truth. There’s something magical about just resting next to someone who just made love to you.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t fail to give me love.” I groped in the darkness in search of his hand, and took it in mine when I found it. “I wanted you to know that. You gave me more than plenty. In fact, you gave me so much love that it scared me. I didn’t expect it. I behaved the way I did because I was afraid to accept that gift. But you already know that, and you fought that stubborn and stupid creature in me selflessly.” I heard him exhale heavily and he squeezed my fingers in acknowledgement. “What you do not know is that you made me love you. That’s another thing I want you to know. I didn’t want it to end like that, but I cherish that feeling now, and I don’t exp…”

I felt him shift next to me quite abruptly and before I could finish the sentence, the fingers of his other hand found my flushed cheek. He turned my face to him and silenced me with a heated kiss.

I didn’t want him to ever stop. We just fucked a moment ago, but the feeling of his plump lips playing with mine was making me lose my mind even more than the orgasms he gave me. When he finally broke the kiss, I felt mournful, but only for a spoilt second. Only until he spoke. “Don’t you ever say that you don’t expect anything, because you deserve everything! I love you too.”

He loved me.

I weeped while he stroked my hair.

We didn’t get much sleep that night. I was beginning to see a pattern. While he was quite romantic and sensuous in bed, when we got in the shower it was as if the devil himself got into him and I only prayed that I wouldn’t have any bruises the next day. Back in the sheets and completely exhausted, we finally dozed off.

I woke up long before dawn, soon enough to be able to prepare an early breakfast for those who ordered it the day before. Praising my internal clock, I kissed the top of Joshua’s head and slowly tried to drag my sore body out of bed, only to be pulled back by two grabby hands.

“Do you really have to?” he mumbled, while nuzzling the nape of my neck.

“You know I do. But tell you what...I’ll bake you an apple pie for breakfast, hm?”

“The one with whose sugary crumbs on top?” I nodded and he finally released me, disappearing under the blanket again.

I quietly creeped out of the door, expecting the house to be dark and empty, but there was a sliver of light under Jake’s half-closed door and I heard some rustle in the kitchen below, while a discreet, automatic night light was illuminating the adjacent hall. A moment later, Jake emerged at the foot of the wooden stairs with a cup in his hand, eyeing me warily. He must have heard me too.

“You’re already awake?” I asked quite unnecessarily.

“I haven’t slept yet,” he mumbled. “Did you? You look tired.” The sudden venom in his voice made me feel guilty, even though there was absolutely no reason why I should have. “I…”

“Don’t bother, I heard. Those rooms share bathroom walls, you know? Well, of course you know,” he hissed as he was passing me on the narrow staircase.

“Why are you being such a dick about it? You wanted me to reach out to him.”

“Yeah, and you reached pretty far. I guess what you needed was just a little nudge.” His face was once again that hard and arrogant mask that I learned to both fear and hate not so long ago, his cold eyes so startlingly similar to that shiny pair I loved so much, yet so different at the same time.

“Stop this!” I whisper-shouted back, still trying to be as quiet as possible, but unable to control the rage that started bubbling deep inside me. “I did nothing wrong. AND he’s your brother for god’s sake!”

I hit a nerve. I obviously didn’t matter, but his twin did. His features once again transformed into that broody, melancholic look he had in the pub or while he was playing the song. He looked defeated. “I know. I just can’t sleep and that makes me cranky, so…maybe I should try again to get some sleep so that I'll be less insufferable later. I’m sorry for what I did, veela. Good night.”

“Jake,” I whispered. “Please don’t tell him anything.”

“I’m an asshole, not an idiot.”

“No, you’re neither. I didn’t mean to…” I took a few steps back up towards him, but he stopped me with a dismissive hand gesture.

“You were right, though,” he said before he disappeared into his room.

During those two following weeks, Joshua spent most nights in my lodgings, where no one would hear us. It was an insane time, and we were both insatiable. I kept swallowing him, he kept devouring me. We fucked like rabbits in my kitchen, we ravaged each other in my bathroom, and we made love in my bed.

I should have worried about all the possible future consequences of our behaviour, because if I had loved him before, I was now becoming literally obsessed. I couldn’t pass him in the hall without kissing him. We were like two infatuated teenagers, hiding behind every corner, giggling and groping each other.

Jake went to buy new strings, and came back with a brand new guitar. It was the last time I saw him smile. He spent a lot of time playing it in the garden when the weather was fine, or hidden in the corner of the common room when it was raining. His brother joined him a few times, but as their stay was coming to a close, he mostly kept to himself.

We pretended the kiss never happened. Not only he never tried to do it again, we hardly ever exchanged more than a few sentences. I missed the friend I got in him. We went back to where we started, being barely civil with each other. Joshua noticed something was wrong, but I think he interpreted it simply as Jake’s disapproval of what we were doing. I guess he wasn’t entirely wrong.

I felt guilty. Even though I kept telling myself that I had no reason to feel that way, because I did nothing wrong, I felt guilty simply because I decided we wouldn’t tell him anything. It was partly a very selfish decision, but both me and Jake also knew that the consequences would be dire.

I still kept wondering why he did that.

…and at the same time I didn’t want to think about it. It made my head hurt.

But in spite of that I felt so happy for that short while. We walked around town hand in hand quite often. Sometimes he just made me feel brand new. It was like a dream from which you don’t want to wake up. And then you have to.

Two days before they were supposed to fly back home, we took a walk in the park right before sunset. It was a beautiful cloudless day and the whole northern part of the mountain range was visible from this part of town.

“I don’t want this to end,” he broke the silence all of the sudden, finally addressing the issue we’d been trying to avoid for a few days.

And yet it will, I thought. There’s no other option. “There’s really not much we can do about it. And we both knew that. You said it yourself.”

“No, I don’t believe this. I’m sure there is.”

“Joshua…”

“I’m pretty sure I said that we should live for the present and not worry too much about the future. I’m not going to Mars! We can make this work.”

I smiled mournfully. At least his old, enthusiastic self was back. My work was done. AND this was the ending I had hoped for. Happy memories. Nevertheless, I still asked, simply to listen to him talking. “How?”

“I don’t know. Let’s figure it out. What about Christmas? Let’s…let’s go to Paris!I know, that’s cliche, but…”

“Joshua! I can’t leave during Christmas! It’s the busiest time of the year. Can’t you see? I’m needed here. And your place is elsewhere.”

“Ok, so I will just come back for Christmas.”

“You’re insane. Ok, so Christmas…and what then? Easter? We can’t live like that. Maybe there’s still someone else for both of us.”

“Yeah, maybe, maybe… Listen, let’s make a deal.” He grabbed my shoulders as if trying to talk some sense into me. How ironic. “I will come back for Christmas. Because why not? Seriously. What’s stopping me now?…unless you meet someone in the meantime. Then I won’t.”

“And if you meet someone?”

“Could happen,” he nodded. “I can hardly imagine it right now, but I won’t lie to you by saying that it’s impossible. Anything is possible. That’s kinda my point.”

He was crazy, and I told him so, but when he asked me to give him one reasonable justification why we shouldn’t do that, I couldn’t think of anything. Everything I had done so far in that past month was done with a complete disregard of any possible future consequences, and it was him who made me behave that way. Ever since our first kiss, or maybe ever since the first time he held my hand.

We made no sense, and yet we still kept doing this. He told his longtime boyfriend who flew across the world to see him that he indeed did fall in love with a woman at last. At least he thought he did. Reluctantly, I agreed to participate in his insane experiment.

It didn’t make the final goodbye any easier. When the time came, and we hugged goodbye, I couldn’t let go.

Three months! Almost three months until I would see him again. He promised to call me “EVERY DAY”, and of course, I didn’t believe him for one second. Jake’s amused smirk told me I was right.

Jake…

The whole time, Jake stood nearby, leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed down, examining the tips of his sneakers. I couldn’t let him leave like this. He was my lover’s twin brother, the closest person one could possibly imagine having in this world, and I kept hoping he would be my friend, too. A lot of things had happened between us, but I’d gotten to know him as a kind and caring soul. I outstretched my arms, ready for a hug. It was brief and awkward.

“Can’t you take off your shades even now?” It was drizzling again.

“No, I’d rather not,” he replied softly before sharing a quick glance with his brother, who clenched his jaw and turned back towards the house, shuffling his feet on the gravel road. I was about to turn, but he pulled me back in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, before he pulled away while stroking my shoulders. “And thank you for everything.”

I watched them disappear behind the sharp bend while toying with my malachite necklace, and my heart sank. Three months…

Even though things changed, the recurring dream still kept disrupting my nights. It was changing too. There were the three of us climbing now, and Joshua kept wandering off the stony path…

He was still chasing something. Or someone. Everytime he got out of sight, a surge of panic washed through me. Then he reemerged again eventually, but I felt like I kept losing him.

“No, please don’t,” I called after him. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I never will,” he said, his voice more like an echo, but there were tears in his eyes, telling me he would. I tried to understand that, tried to accept that, but before I could, a warm glow lightened his face and his eyes grew wide, and I felt the same warmth at the back of my head. I turned around to look at the source and I saw it again: the sun setting in the east. Very strange. But it wasn’t the sun. Terrified by the sight, I screamed and started crying, mad with worry and grief. We didn’t deserve this. Nimble fingers grabbed my sides and tried to pull me back. “Come, my love,” he shouted…

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demonshauntingthedoves · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 1

Perfedious : A disloyal and faithless person.

Pairing : Yandere!Seokjin x female reader (Mirae)

Summary : You had dreamt of a beautiful man who held a diamond ring in his hand for you and the dream had come true when you saw Seokjin holding the same diamond ring and he slipped it on - your sister's finger - not yours. Sometimes what you want happens in the worst way possible.

Warnings : Heavy Angst, Family Problems, Age gap, Dilf, Dub-Con, Infidelity, Affair, Toxic Behaviour, Eventual Yandere, Eventual Smut, Just wait for Seokjin's dark Pov [hehehe].

WordCount : 4200+

The bus engine roars to life and so does your heart, anticipating to be free from the weight it holds. As the vehicle pulls away from the curb, you sank deeper into your sit. You closed your eyes and drew out a sigh- surrendering and letting the bus drag you away from the sins you ploughed behind. Your weary eyes were fixated on the window, watching the cityscape fade away gradually. Slowly the streets grew smaller and blurrier.

You glimpsed at your reflection in the windowpane- hollow eyes tiredly fluttering. You saw the reminder of your pain decorating the red rims of your swollen eyes and that was enough to make your tears well up again. You clasped your lashes shut, guilty tears running down your pale cheeks.

In times when everything got too much. Too unbearable.

You'd done one and only one thing and that was runaway.

You'd go away.

Far away from home.

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

Harsh remarks, biting sarcasm, belittling words, that was all your mother had for you. Maybe that was what came as second nature to all mothers. They often nagged and ranted to their children.You'd even asked your friend Ari, if her mother also shouted at her all the time.

"Yeah, she scolds me but she always hugs me and caresses me after that." You ten year old friend had told you.

But your mother never did the latter part. She'd just leave you all sad and sobbing alone.

No loving words, no soft caress and no motherly warmth. You never got that. Atleast not after your father left home untold. It was after that day, her resentment towards you and your sister grew like a dark creeper. You'd never known the reason until one day you did.

"Your father left me because I couldn't give him a son!! There was no other reason for him to leave!!" She had spat irrationally on your faces.

It had hurt a lot at the sprouting age of twelve when she called you and your sister a liability. Minsu was older by eight years. Despite getting the same harsh treatment as you, you'd always thought she was at least lucky to have spent more years in the presence of father when everything was well. Unlike you who got no parental love and care.

Your mother had nothing to give you except her indifference.

No love.

No warmth.

And at some point, you stopped craving and begging for it as a child.

As the irritable years went by, it became more and more unnerving. And you no longer wanted to live like a quiet and depressed child, so you rebelled. You'd throw back comments and on queue the whole house would fill with shouts and screams. You were a total of three ladies in the house but the volume of noises that were heard outside were ten folds.

Your mother didn't wavered by your teenage rebellion. She just got more chances to cause drama. Reasonless arguing and condescending words.

Even public humiliation, the one time she came to meet your homeroom teacher. Nothing was worse when Miss.Choi had awkwardly asked you if she was your stepmother because indeed she treated you like one.

It became so exhausting that you gave up on fights and found ways to escape.

You stayed extras in school, went for night camps and trips, you just ran away from home.

This kept you away from your mother's temper tantrums for days.

You'd sleep more peacefully under the open starry sky than the roof of your own home.

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

You were seventeen, when you had quite fortunately stumbled into this good-looking young man.

That time your nose had almost flared in anger looking at the feets of the stranger who had made you fall down until you looked up to see a handsome face.

That was the very first time you saw Seokjin.

Your face had changed from a dark shade of red to light shade of pink as you awed beautiful man.You were literally ogling at him from your tumbled down position.He was in his creaseless suit and dress pants.You had pretended to not notice the buckle of your knees when you took in his appearance.

How could a person be so handsome?

Your next camping trip was filled with whispers and giggles about the handsome man you had encountered and quite obviously got a little crush on. Your friend Ari had teased you all along the trip.She'd winked and nudged you with mischievous eyes and playful smile whenever you both shared a task and left you flustered.

It was under the canvas tents, that Ari had filled your head with intriguing and exciting scenarios about the man while chattering like a gleeful cat who was happy for her best friend to find a man for herself. Though it was far from the truth.

That day a tender symphony had played faintly in your heart.

That night, you had dreamt about him out of your impending fascination and admiration. 'His broad back; adorned in a white tuxedo; facing you. And then he turned back slowly- you stared at his beutific face, then his styled hair, then his pillowy lips and then his pretty eyes which fluttered up to look at you. You saw the caves filled with gems and diamonds in his sparkling eyes. And then you saw the velvet box in his hand which extended towards you.The box opened to reveal a precious diamond ring glazing so brightly that you shut your eyes from its intensity.'

Only to open your eyes and see Ari's groggy face the next morning.

Just the reminder of the fantasy brought a blushing hue on your face and fluttery feeling in your stomach. When you told Ari, she had squealed so loud in the bus and grinned at you.

"Your eyes are literally shining since you saw him, you know that." Ari told you in excitement.

"In all honesty, we should really go find him and then why not give it a try!!" Ari suggested.

And you shushed her because the single thought of meeting him again gave you tingles everywhere.

You had seen many girls with teeny tiny crushes but never thought you'd be one.

But again

You knew you were being stupid to dream about a man who was probably twice your age.

But again

It wouldn't hurt to dream.

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

In the drapes of spring blossom, your sister got married.

As the vows and kisses were exchanged beneath the flower beds, your heart too, like the petals, fell to the ground.

The diamond in her ring finger shined just like the coat of tears welling up in your eyes.

Happy tears and sad tears.

You feigned the biggest smile till your cheeks hurt.

You had never thought you'd be so upset from inside at your beloved sister's wedding but you couldn't help it.

It was worth a grimace how familiar her groom looked to the man in your dreams.

Because indeed it was him.

Kim Seokjin

What a laughable coincidence it was!

Everything had happened so abruptly.

On the day you returned from your trip, you saw Seokjin for the second time.

But the foolish grin on your face was wiped away the moment you saw him sitting on your couch with your sister.

Their hands were intertwined like lovers.

And you were more surprised to see your mother's pleased face, who soon after declared they could wed in the coming week. The little celebration was carried on with clinks of wine glasses and plates of special dishes.

And you sat there dumbfounded and baffled by the sudden decision.

Minsu hadn't said a single thing about this.

Your sad face never went unnoticed by her and she explained to you with a calm sigh,

" I know Rae, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you but I was unaware that he liked me just as much I liked him."

"And then he proposed to me all of a sudden and I didn't feel like there was a single reason to say no."

And then she smiled bashfully like a damsel.

"Fate is a wondrous thing, Rae. I'm so grateful to the scriptor above wrote him in my fate."

Damn the scriptor.

You stomach had churned when you asked her,

"Do you love him?"

She looked at your glassy eyes.

"Do you think I'll marry a man I don't love?"

"Ofcourse I love him. Who wouldn't?" You felt your breath sink from her last sentence. You had seen the love and sincerity in her eyes.

Then her gaze shifted with concern to you and she squeezed your shoulder lightly.

"You are happy, right?" She asked you.

Your eyes darted away. You couldn't do this to her. You would not crush over her man. You should not.

You pulled her in a tight hug and hid your face as hopeless tears ran down your cheeks. You didn't know why you were feeling this myriad of emotions all of a sudden.

You couldn't place your finger on what you were feeling. There were so many things at once.

"Ofcourse I'm happy for you. J-just don't forget about me. Don't leave me alone with that omen." You heard her chuckle as she patted your hair.

"I will never leave you Rae, I promise."

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

And that was how you stood beside her as her maid of honour. You stole a few glances at Seokjin who was so blissfully unaware about the way your heart and stomach felt tingles by looking at him.

You were so shameless to stare at him with intent just to see if he was really there and you weren't dreaming again.

You're not gonna lie but Seokjin looked so exquisite in his attire. So so beautiful that you almost got lost in watching him smile.

Seokjin wanted to have a small and uncrowded ceremony. He booked a hotel which was decorated like paradise. Interior graced with soft looking pink and white roses. And the garden was filled with cherry blossoms.

It was a wedding everyone dreamt of.

Under the trees, you sat with a pout and looked at the couple who were busy posing and capturing the memories of their wedding in the garden. Post wedding shoot.

Seokjin and Minsu,

They looked good together.

Now that you consider thinking, you were actually being childish and stupid to even have thought that you held any chance with him.

It was a stupid crush.

Little doration and little fascination, that was it all.

And it was plain stupid and dumb, to put so much strain and stress to your mind with whatever you were feeling.

Not only you but anyone would wish to have a man like him.

That's it.

One thing you knew was Minsu was dear to you and you'd do anything for.

So what you had to do now was let go of this stupid crush and the intrusive thoughts that came with it.

He was your brother in law now.

Avoid it or not.

And yet again you couldn't control the loud beating of your heart as he walked over to where you sat. Behind him, Minsu was still posing in her wedding gown.

You inhaled his expensive rosewood perfume as he sat down beside you.

Thank God your ears were covered by your hair or else he would have seen how red and hot they had turned.

"So, did you enjoy the wedding, Mirae?" He tried to strike a conversation with you.

You tried not to shy away from his gaze even if you were squealing inside just by hearing your name roll down his tongue.

" I-I did, it was gorgeous with all the flowers." You smiled and stared at the rose in his hand.

"And the food?"

" I didn't get to try the buffet yet because mother warned me to not eat before you both. I need to accompany you both."

Your voice grew smaller at the end thinking you spoke more than you needed to.

You heard his melodious chuckles looking at your frowning face.

"You don't need to worry about it, you can just go and have the food. Minsu had specially selected your favourite dishes."

Your eyes brightened at that and you looked up at him only to see him fondly smiling at you. He looked so princely. Your hands unintentionally squeezed the fabric of your baby pink dress.

You shook your head,

"No, I'll better wait for you both. And I guess Minsu's shoot is about to end."

You both looked at Minsu who was flaunting in her white gown ahead. Dangling a large bouquet of roses in her hand.

In your periphery, you saw him fiddling with a rose in his hand. He might have used it for the photoshoot.

You flinched when a blossom fell on you and he laughed at you. Your cheeks would have been dusted red by now.

"Why don't we go on a walk near the river until she gets back?"

He gestured towards the river at the other end of the garden. You gave a tiny nod and walked side by side.

The ceremony had ended by late noon and now the sun was dipping down the river. You had to crane your neck up just to look at his side face.

" I didn't get to ask this before but are you happy for your sister? "

You were stunned for a moment but put up a smile and replied,

"Yes, why would I not be? You both love each other and that's enough for me to be happy for her"

That's enough for me to let my chance go.

You were already getting tired to answer this same question again and again. Sick of convincing yourself that you were, happy.

You gulped when he observed your face for a few seconds, his eyes reflecting the golden sunset behind you and then he nodded.

Peering into his bourbon eyes was making your breath uneven. He was so so handsome, you had never witnessed a man like him. It was so hard for you to conceal the velvet fondness in your eyes.

You tried not to stare.

You tried not to show.

You were about to turn your face away to stare at the river on other side and also to hide your reddened face. But he tucked your elbow lightly,

"Wait"

His face was merely away from yours as he leaned down with furrowed brows. Your heart almost cried happily at his soft touch.

The symphony had come back and played in your heart again. Pellucid.

His leaned closer and his sweet wine-tinged breath hit you. Your legs were shaking under your frock. You were being skittish. If not for the light grasp he had on your hand, you would have staggered back and fell in the open river. Because your legs were out of control.

Like your heart.

Like your breath.

Like the ruby blood rushing to your full cheeks.

What were you feeling?

And what was he doing?

He plucked something from your lash and held the tiny piece of petal that had stuck in your lashes unknowingly.

"Uh, I saw this. It would have gone in your eye so I removed it."

He said simply as if he didnt just wrench your breath away and backed away.

You swiftly turned around to look at the shining ripples of water. Your eyes darted everywhere but at him.

You gasped when you saw something on the ground and crouched to pick it up.

Seokjin furrowed his eyebrows and leaned to look at the little leaf flat against your little palm, as you showed it to him.

A four-leaf clover

"You know it's so rare to find. Only the luckiest ones get the chance."

He was amused by hearing that and asked,

"So does it have more speciality?"

You nodded hurried and told him,

" Yes it does! The first three leaves are for hope, faith and love. And the fourth one which is rare to exist brings luck."

"Hmm..So aren't you the lucky one?"

You wanted to laugh and tell him that you were anything but.

It was ironic

To find a four clover on one your unluckiest days, if you put it out like that.

You grinned at him to hide your grimace and shrugged,

" I hope so I am."

" Ofcourse you are, now you got a brother-in-law at your side."

He said playfully and proudly.

Your insides winced at the mention of that awful term, you were already annoyed with that claim.

"But honestly, I will always love and protect Minsu, and hopefully take care of you too. I never thought I'd have such a little sister in law." He babbled his confession.

You had got so caught up with that 'take care of you too' that you didn't hear what he said next.

"I know how you two have been close and dealt with-with your mother, but I promise that- from now on I'll keep your sister happy."

You were melting at his words, at his need to constantly reassure you. That he found you important enough to assure it to. He was making you feel like the bigger person by saying those sugary words. And no one had ever taken that effort.

He even offered you the small pink rose in his hand to seal his promise.

And you took it with dreamy eyes, which you were sure won't get any sleep tonight.

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

The bus screeched to a halt. You stepped down clumsily, clutching your bag. The bus drove off and you spun to walk forward as strides of your heels hit the cobblestoned lane of the small town.

The memories of your childhood swirled around you, winding through the streets like fleeting chuckles. Lollipops. Paper windmills. Little balloons. Your father.

This was his hometown.

The breeze caressed your face as if reassuring you that everything will be alright. You reached the designated home and knocked on the wooden door, only to be greeted by your Grandma's mushy face which bloomed with a welcoming smile.

The haven of herbs and medicines greet you next. Your grandma was a traditional therapist. She was known around for her herbal therapy. Everyone came to her 'Healing Home' for cure.

And maybe you did too. You came here for a cure. To seek her healing water which would wash you off your sins. To seek a balm to treat the wounds of remorse.

And to seek a refugee to coop up your pathetic broken self in.

It came easy for you to conceal what's inside you- your feelings. Conceal. Hide. Obscure them. That was what you had done all your life.

So just like your feelings, you wanted to hide yourself to. Anywhere. Away from prying eyes. Distant the whispers of blame and shame in your head. Detach yourself from his lingering scent.

You wanted to hide away and curl and cry and sought and mend yourself. And nothing was better than your grandmother's mending shelter.

She offered you tea. Caramel evenings were spend with honey teas and baked cinnamon rolls. You talked to her and told her how you wanted to take a break away from the city. You lied to her that office work was stressing and making you sick. You needed time away from all that and find peace.

Away from home.

Away from him.

Next I Main Masterlist

A/N : This chapter is pretty much about female mc and how she starts to like Seokjin.The seed is just sown. NGL it was way to angsty. Seokjin is good and kind in this and will be in further chapters until the facade slips.

Hope you all like this. Also comment if you wanna get added in the tag list.

@themochiverse

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aloneinthehellfire · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter Sixteen: The Pattern

Gates Of Hell (Masterlist)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: illusions to drowning, traumatic experience?, angsty as ever

[A/N: I wrote this one random Friday evening at 3am because I decided I wanted to feel something. True story.]

The Pattern

The water is deathly still, not unlike how you stood staring back at it, tears dampening your cheeks.

You watched Steve’s body disappear beneath the surface, pulling him closer to the devil himself and leaving you stood there. Staring. Still.

Move, Y/n.

Your hands shake as you slowly pull yourself out of a debilitating trance, taking in a deep breath.

MOVE.

Grabbing your knife from where it was fastened to your jean leg, you realise thinking would get you nowhere. Thinking would drown him. So, you don’t think. You just dive.

Your form may not have been perfect, but your despair glided you through that water with determination, greeting you in a warm atmosphere. You adjust your eyes in the water, forcing yourself to withstand the unusual feeling of looking around underwater. And then you see him.

Something like a giant leech had curled around him, holding him there in the middle of the water as he desperately struggled against it. You ensure the grip on your knife is tight, letting your shock subside and kicking your legs behind you.

You didn’t anticipate the difficulty of swiping your blade under the water, missing the first time. You watch in desperation as Steve’s fight becomes a little less noticeable, air escaping his lungs in menacing bubbles. You were running out of time.

With as much force as you could muster, you jab the blade into the monster’s flesh, relentless as you refused to admit defeat.

Air almost escapes your mouth in rejoice when it finally cuts through and you attempt to pull it down, slicing as far as you can into its body before it finally uncurls from him and swims away fast, taking your knife with it in a fury of hazy particles. But you didn’t care about that. It could take whatever it wanted. Just not Steve.

You wait for the cloud of air from the creature’s quick departure to reveal him, hoping he’d swim towards you with that athletic ability and you could escape this nightmare.

But he wasn’t swimming toward you.

He was sinking.

You had never been a strong swimmer. Not even in the short distance races your swimming teacher would force you to take, the faint laugh of your little sister echoing in the air as you thrash about in ridiculous form.

And yet, now, not even an eight foot leech in deep water could stop you from swimming further down into the quarry and wrapping your arms around Steve’s torso, forcing more power into your legs than you ever thought possible. You refused to give up on him so easily.

As you tug him towards you, awkward in practice, your eyes catch the gate blaring up through the vast darkness. It was already closing.

You wouldn’t be able to make it in time.

So, with a heavy heart, you tighten your grip and you swim up to the surface, ignoring the mass of body weight attempting to pull you both back down.

When you break through the water everything is suddenly easier. You’re blinking away droplets of water, manoeuvring yourself to find land, Steve’s terrifyingly still body now floating behind you.

You’re not giving up yet.

Extending your arm over his chest, your hook your hand just below his armpit and use your other to wade through the water, legs kicking ferociously below you. You ignored the tears blurring your vision, the setting fear the longer you don’t hear Steve take a harsh breath of air.

You can feel it ripple across the water behind you, returning for its prey. It strikes a shot of nerves throughout your body, heart temporarily stopping when you imagine its close, ready to pull you back into the depths of death and take your last breath.

The cool and rough texture against your fingertips almost made you scream in relief, hand desperately searching for a groove to pull yourself up. It was harder to drag another body with you, making the nearly impossible decision to let him go, just for a moment.

Your breaths are heavy as your knees hit the stone with malice, surely leaving bruises scattered across your skin and bone. Your hands are quick to find him again, looping under both his arms as the looming presence of a predator approaches you at a sickening pace.

With no hesitation, you tug Steve back. And it was your greatest accomplishment.

The haste to pull him flush against your chest came just in time for the creature to break through the water and reveal its ringed mass of teeth, snapping at the bare air just in front of you. You stumble back, still holding onto him as you watch the horrid thing dive back into the water, relishing in the relief it couldn’t survive on land. However, even as it disappeared, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Everything in that moment felt like a movie scene you would refuse to watch.

“Steve?” You lay him gently against the ground, careful to not let his head hit any rocks as you crawl around him, brows pinched together as every inch of you shook. “Steve?!”

Shaking fingers scramble to find a pulse, pressing against his neck, his wrist, before you fall against him completely with your ear to his chest. Your teeth were chattering too loud from the debilitating anxiety to know if you heard it, a sob catching in your throat.

“Shit, no!” Your throat cracks under the pressure of a building scream, putting one hand above the other against his chest and straddling him for leverage, tears streaming down your face.

Hopper wouldn’t let you leave the house by yourself until he was sure you could act under pressure in an emergency. Self-defence, wilderness skills, CPR. He ingrained every possible technique into your brain and you never appreciated it until right now, knowing it was your last hope to bring him back to you. He had to come back to you.

12 compressions in, and nothing was changing.

“Come on, wake up!” You cry. 2 more compressions. “Wake up, you asshole!”

1 more and you’re tilting his head back, pinching his nose and filling your lungs with air. 2 pumps of breath. Still nothing.

You practically swallow your tears, resuming the compressions as you felt every possible emotion you could. 3 compressions.

There was fear. Fear that this was the end for him, his eyelids sewn shut, lips turning a shade of purple. 2 compressions. It wasn’t your Steve right now, and you hated the fear that this would be your last memory of him. You wouldn’t see his brown eyes look at you with adoration you never imagined you’d bathe in, those golden flecks casting you in his warmth. 2 compressions. Your last kiss of his lips would be from the desperation of getting the oxygen back into his lungs, haunting your mouth with the ghost of him.

And there was anger. Angry at him for making you do this. 3 compressions. Furious that he wasn’t hearing your begging cries for life, feeling the hatred in each push of your hands the more time slipped between them. 2 compressions.

Despair. You were clinging onto hope, desperation running down your cheeks. 3 more compressions. 2 more breaths.

“Don’t you dare do this to me!” You scream at him, scared the force of your arms would crack his bones. “You’re the one that said we weren’t giving up! You wanted me to keep going! But I can’t- I can’t do this without you!”

4 compressions.

“I’m not ready to let you go!” You sob, muscles aching. You ignored their cry for relief. You’d ignore it forever if it meant there was still hope.

3 compressions.

And a strong gasp for air.

It came in short breaths, spluttering water from his lips as he twists his body to breathe. Steve feels his vision fading in, blinking against the black spots following his gaze. It took him a moment to understand the burning in his lungs as he inhales sharp gusts of air, shivering against the cold stone beneath his back. He was no longer in the water.

The last he remembered was the suffocating pressure of a sea monster coiling around him, your scream of despair when he watches your face suddenly disappear behind a wall of water.

That’s when he notices the shifting pressure from his legs, bringing his head forward to a sight he’d never get sick of seeing.

“Oh my god.” You cry with a relieved smile, not giving him a single chance to question the tear stains on your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck and lay on him.

He doesn’t object, his hands finding solace against your back as he lets his head hit the ground again, shutting his eyes. The shiver of your muscles below his fingertips has him pulling you impossibly closer, suddenly recognising your damp clothes.

“Did you… dive in?” Steve asks with a small voice, feeling like he was only asking a stupid question.

Your body is shaking against him, hands balling his shirt into your fists and he realises you aren’t cold. You’re crying.

“I thought I lost you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, shattering his heart into a million little pieces. It finally dawns on him. He didn’t just get pulled below the water. He drowned. And you managed to save him.

Steve isn’t sure what to say, what he even could say. He’s never had to bring someone back from the dead. And, judging by the way you clung desperately to him, neither had you.

His lips form the words he chooses to say when realisation rushes a wave of dread through his body, striking his chest with a pang of fear. He had dove down there for the gate.

“We missed the gate.” He says aloud, crushing the pit in his stomach with the gravity of the situation.

“It was closing when I got to you.” You shift against him and he can see you at last, red and glassy eyes dawning guilt into his, “You… we wouldn’t have made it.”

His head shakes. He should have known something was down there. He should have checked, studied it harder, done something. But, no. He ruined it all. Again.

You watch as something washes over features, condemning them to a dark and miserable expression.

“It’s not your fault.” You tell him, holding his gaze. Steve’s face scrunches in consideration. “Neither of us could have seen that coming.”

“It can’t, uh…” Steve gestures to the rock below you and you quickly shake your head.

“Pretty sure it’s stuck in the water.”

“Holy shit.” He breathes out, leaning back with you still led against his chest, finding comfort in his heartbeat thrumming below your fingertips. “Who the hell decided that thing was a good idea?”

“I told you. Scary fish.” You repeat your words from earlier, the humour lost on your hoarse voice.

“I’m never swimming again.” Steve says staring at the red sky. He hoped he had seen the last of it, but he was never that lucky.

You move against him and he props himself on his elbow just in time to see you pull away, sat on the rocky surface with a fallen expression. You tilt your head so he can no longer see your face, making him frown.

“What’s wrong?” He ignores the ache of his muscles as he sits up, already aching to be close to you again.

“That was our last chance.” Your voice is thick with tears, your hand furiously wiping at your face before you let out a sad laugh, looking down at your damp clothes. “I can’t do anything right.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve clears his throat, chest aching. How long would it take him to recover? That didn’t matter now.

“I froze, Steve.” You turn to look at him, brows pinched with guilt. “You got dragged under, and I just- I just stood there. If I had just done the right thing and dived in as soon as you disappeared, I could have distracted it long enough to-”

You bury your face in your hands, shaking your head. Steve lets out a long breath, eyes fixated on your shrinking form.

“Distracted it?” He repeats with strain and your head whips up, eyes widening, caught. “Y/n… you were never coming with me through the gate, were you?”

You can only stare at him, face twisting in regret and deceit. The honest truth was that he was right. It was never the plan. Never your plan.

If you had an answer, Steve never heard it. Voices began blaring out through the radio discarded on the rock behind you, desperate to know if you made it out. He felt sick, knowing you only had bad news. Knowing you were never going to make it out.

One last sorrowful look and you tear your eyes away to grab the radio, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“It’s Y/n. Over.” You respond, watching as Steve props himself against the rocky ledge you had only just promised a life to him on, guilt tearing you apart at the seams.

“Y/n! Thank god! Are you guys out?! Over.” Dustin blurts in a high-pitched voice and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Uh… no. We didn’t- we didn’t make it. The gate closed. Over.” You forced the words from your lips, leaning back and studying the shadow gliding below the water on the other side of the quarry.

Steve was rolling his shoulders, coughing every now and then as he tried to recover as quickly as he possibly could. He expected the quarry creature wasn’t going to be the last thing wanting to take a bite out of him today.

“Shit. It’s- it’s okay. We’ll find another pattern. There has to be another gate, and we’ll find it. Over.”

His head raises when you don’t respond to the young boy, your lips tight from conflict. You’re fighting back tears, staring at the sky like a miracle could fall from it. Steve had never seen you look so defeated, and it was more terrifying than anything the Upside Down could throw at him.

“Y/n? Over.”

Your hand shakes as you lift the radio once again, expectation weighing heavy on your heart.

“Can I, um…” You gulp, closing your eyes. “Is my dad there? Over.”

It took ten seconds from a response, a much deeper voice blaring through when the static disappears.

“I’m right here, kid.”

A sob escapes you before you can stop it, making Steve tense from the sheer despair of it.

“Dad.” You begin, curling up with the radio like a child would their favourite teddy bear, tears falling without conviction, uncontrollable. “I’m so sorry.”

“What- sorry for what?”

“For everything.” You cry with shaky breaths. “I know I wasn’t the daughter you deserved. And- and I know I blamed you for so many things. But I never meant it. And I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t you ever apologise, okay? You are more than I deserve.”

You have to muffle your cries then, radio shaking in your trembling hands. Steve doesn’t say anything, but his own tears start silently falling. It was clear as day. You had given up, and he could no longer do anything about it.

“If, I… if I don’t get the chance to see you again…” You swallow your sobs, letting your head fall back and staring at the white streaks of lightning above you. “I just want you to know that… I love you, dad.”

Hopper doesn’t respond for a minute and, when he does, his voice sounds different, sadder and muffled like he had been holding back his crying too. “I love you so much, kiddo. We’re getting you out of there. You hear me? Even if I have to tear a gate open myself, I am getting you out of there. Both of you.”

Like his words had suddenly brought a light of inspiration back to you, you finally meet Steve’s eyes, wiping away your tears. There was one last thing you had to do before you could truly give up.

“What order did the gates open?” You ask your father, straightening your back. “The watergates? Over.”

“What?” He sounds surprised and cuts out for a second. “Let me grab my map. Over.”

Steve is frowning. What were you doing?

“Alright, got it.” Hopper returns, clearing his throat from the thick of emotions. “It started at Lover’s Lake. Then it went as follows: Loch Nora, the community pool, the pond by Denfield, Lake Jordan, the quarry. Why? What are you thinking, kid? Over.”

“If the gates all opened in the water…” You whisper to yourself, trying to figure it out.

And then you remember the map Hopper had showed you the night before you got trapped down here, the one you had hunted down with Steve so you could both mark off the places you searched as well as the dangerous routes through the town.

You suddenly pounce to your bag, rifling through it in haste. You mutter curses when you only pull out spare clothes and scraps of material.

“What do you need?” Steve suddenly asks, his own bag now perched on his lap and open wide.

“The map.”

He digs around until he feels the familiar texture of the paper against his fingertips, tugging it out and holding it out.

You take it from him and start spreading it out, ignoring the small patches of water that seeped through from the puddle you both made with your wet clothes. You let your finger trace across the locations Hopper had read out to you, sucking in a breath.

You immediately hold down the radio again, “All of them are circling Hawkins. Whatever’s doing this is sectioning off Hawkins from everywhere else, it’s...”

“Trapping us in.” Hopper responds and Steve suddenly feels very frightened. Making it out of the Upside Down was no longer his biggest problem when there was literally no escape for anyone else.

“Can you figure out what the middle point is? Maybe… maybe it could be the point of origin, wherever this thing is working from. A hive mind. Over.”

“Okay, hold on. Over.”

You both wait in silence. At some point in the exchange, Steve had found his way back down beside you, shoulder pressed against yours as you both stare down at the radio you held between you.

“Got it.” Hopper comes back and you hear faint rustling of the map as he takes a closer look. “Alright looks like somewhere on Cornwallis… the exact point is just a bare patch of land but if I expand it slightly… there’s a building that fits the pattern…”

You wait for his answer, brows furrowed in anticipation.

“It’s that stupid little motel. Motel 6.”

Both of your eyes flash towards eachother, widening.

“Why the hell would that shithole be important?” Hopper asks, seemingly to himself or someone around him. Your mouth feels dry. “Shit, we’ll check it out but doesn’t look promising, kid. Good theory, though. Over.”

“It’s empty. You won’t find anything there.” You finally respond, voice monotone from shock.

“How do you know?”

“Because Steve and I have been using it as a base point for the last three weeks.” You gulp, and Steve’s frown is deep set onto his features, staring at nothing.

“Shit.” Hopper spits, cutting into radio silence for a moment before returning with a sigh. “I hate to say it… but that's not a coincidence anymore, kid."

“So… the gates open when someone makes a connection to this… Upside Down?” You ponder and Hopper hums a response. “Is El making these connections now?”

“She’s mostly been resting. It’s taken a lot out of her. As far as I know, she’s only trying to close the gate, not communicate with whatever hell is behind it.”

“And if she’s not doing it…” You scrunch your face. You felt tired, and achy. You really weren’t sure what your brain was trying to tell you until it finally clicked, staring down at the outline of your high school building. You then follow that trail of red markings, all the way back to the lab. “It has to be someone else.”

“Huh?” Steve raises a brow and you tap the map.

“It’s random because… because someone could literally just be walking around.” You start, still staring back at confused expressions. “You said that this Upside Down was literally a flipped version of Hawkins, right? All these places that gates have been opening… we went to them. Here. The high school. Then down here, Cornwallis near Steve’s house. The trailer park, the cabin, the arcade-”

“All the places we went.” Steve realises and you nod, sharing in his look of horror. “All the places we got attacked.”

“What’re you saying?” Hopper straightens, glancing between you both. “That the gates are following you?”

“No, not necessarily.” You furrow your brows, trying to make sense of it. “I’m just saying that Steve and I were travelling around Hawkins. We didn’t have a set route, in fact we were detouring so much I started to doubt we’d ever make it here, but what I’m trying to say is that our path to the lab was random. Could someone… could someone also be walking around just as randomly in the Upside Down?”

You remembered the conversation in the lab bunker before, assuming the pattern was no pattern at all. But that was a lie.

It hit the same places you had on the surface, leading you back to the mothergate in the lab. The creature from your nightmares, setting off the alarm. Something had pretended to be El, luring you down and then closing off any and every exit, leaving you and Steve trapped down here for what could have been forever. Until now. Circling the only place you and Steve had found sanctuary.

It all comes crashing in, goosebumps trailing along your skin.

The pattern wasn’t where the gates were appearing.

“The pattern’s me.”

Chapter Seventeen: Don't Forget Me (coming soon)

taglist: @toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby .

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #apocalypse au

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moonshine-nightlight · 1 year ago

Text

Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Nine

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing’s Wrong with Dale Chapter 29

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5][Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four][Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] Part Twenty-Nine [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

It’s finally arrived: the morning of your wedding.

Only three hours from now. You’ve rehearsed and made all the decisions and socialized with what feels like everyone in the country and several outside of it. You’ll finish getting dressed over the next hour or so, finalize any last minute arrangements and handle any day-of problems with Grandmother or the Steward, and then the wedding ceremony will occur. After that, there will be the final signing of papers for the legal offices. The wedding luncheon will take up several hours, but you’ll be the first expected to leave for once. While your guests continue to socialize, you, Dale, and a small number of servants ride off.

You’re headed for an old hunting lodge a couple hours away. It’s a traditional destination for all Northridge newly married couples, with a separate house for the servants therefore privacy for the new couple. Some only spent a single night there, heading on to more distant destinations, but you and Dale shall spend at least a week there. After you’ll continue on to Riverton, the closest city in Northridge to the hunting lodge, to start your tour of the fief.

A strangely nervous excitement fills you with both anticipation and trepidation. There has been so much build-up to today that it feels surreal to have finally arrived. There will be the days after today where you and Dale will finally have unbridled privacy to talk openly. You are worried about what he might reveal, but if these last few weeks have taught you anything, it’s that not knowing is far, far worse. You cannot help but look forward to the absence of other people you must socialize and make conversation with. There will be no more focus and attention on you which is something you need desperately.

Your family will no longer be constantly around. They’ve been well enough behaved, to be sure, and Callalily has not brought up any further concerns. Your other siblings give no hint that she might have spoken with them on such matters, which you are grateful for. You’re also grateful that Dale has stuck closer to you these past few nights than he had previously. Some of his friends even were carefully integrated into the Northridge and Portsmith conversations with ease, although you did notice a certain few who remained on the other side of the room. Wilhelm was among them. He did apologize to you directly the next day, once he’d gotten over his hangover. He’d been profoundly embarrassed, admitting he’d no true memory of the night.

Dale was still a bit odd, often lost in thought. He maintained a cheerful enough disposition that you don’t think anyone else noticed. His control seemed to have been reasserted as you’ve noticed no suggestions to his true nature in the slightest, which allowed you to relax as well. You know you will both be far less stressed once this fuss is all behind you.

Brisk hands with a plush towel drying your hair pull you out of your thoughts. Freshly clean from a bath, your maid is getting ready to style your hair. Behind you in your dressing room other maids are pressing your clothing and packing your bags for the trip ahead. You’re enjoying the quiet atmosphere as they chat. It helps that everything’s already been decided so no one has to speak with you. You’ve been purposely avoiding thinking about the wedding ceremony itself—even more than all the galas, everyone’s attention will be on you and Dale. It's rather terrifying. You need every second you have to yourself to try to reach some sort of calm.

So far, you're dressed in your lovely wedding chemise, a gift from Marigold, and you distract yourself to admire it in the mirror. The lacework is finer and more intricate than any you’d seen on such a garment with a lovely ribbon of maroon woven through the hem. Marigold insisted that these decorations were a trend among certain nobility, shirts and shifts alike, for special occasions and the like. You had been touched when it arrived near a month ago. You feel retroactively guilty for the mild suspicion you’d pessimistically attributed to her intentions. You’d been both flattered and anxious about being condensed to, as if you were too young or naive to have known of the fad yourself, which of course you had not.

Now you believe she had merely wanted to give you a present and share her more intimate knowledge of fashion trends, with no slight intended. It is her gift to you for the wedding and you greatly appreciate it. Douglas has given you a fine horse and Asher a handwritten booklet, with tips and advice from what he remembers learning as he began to run your home fief. Not to play favorites, but you’ve already begun reading Asher’s, even if the mare is lovely.

No sooner had your mind turned to Callalily’s gift, than there was a knock on the door. Miss Adir opens it to admit Callalily and her maid, who she’s lending to you for styling your hair for the wedding. She has also given you a wonderful book on herbs and medicine, which you didn’t have the heart to tell her was one you’d read before. You remind yourself that it is a more recent edition than the one you’d used in school and that it is nice to have your own copy.

Callalily elects to stay in the room, her outfit and hair already fully taken care of for the day, and lounges on one of your dressing room chairs. “Where is your dress?”

“With the laundress, my lady,” Miss Adir tells her at your questioning look. “They are steaming it. Your underskirts as well. Your stays are ready, if you’d like me to lace them up before we start on the rest of your hair.”

You roll your shoulders as you eye the stays on the rack nearby. They’re freshly cleaned because, unlike your underskirts, you’ve not worn them recently. Your eyes dart to your bed where the stays you’ve been wearing lay. They’ve been cleaned this week, but not yesterday and they’re different enough due to the busk knife sheath that the dress might sit oddly over them given the way they’ve been made.

Reading your look, Miss Adir offers, “We can still switch to the other stays my lady.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. You’ve practically worn no other stays without the sheath knife since the attack, but you know it's foolish. It’s not as though you’ve been alone since then where you would need to rely on it. Still, it’s made you feel safer to have it there. But it’s not as though someone would try to strike you during the ceremony or wedding luncheon and you’ll be with Dale after. “The dress was made with that one in mind,” you state as confidently as you can, “No matter my reluctance.”

“Why are you tempted by this other pair of stays?” Callalily asks, glancing over the assorted freshly laundered undergarments. “Surely they cannot be so different.”

“Oh, they are the ones you gifted to me,” you say, not sure how exactly to broach the subject without worrying her. She’s the one who gave them to you for a purpose. As a diplomat, she’s the sibling most involved in politics—of multiple countries no less. She’s had to deal with her own fair share of such attacks, but you don’t think she ever truly expected you to need to rely on her gift for its intended purpose. “I’d meant to thank you again for them.”

“You did?” Callalily raises an eyebrow at that.

“Yes,” you admit, eyes darting to the maid with her back to you as she packs clothes into your trunks and avoiding Miss Adir’s gaze. You select your words carefully, “I had cause to make use of their unique construction and am very grateful for the gift.”

You watch in the mirror as Callalily’s maid braids your damp hair. Her eyes widen as she pares your allusion. “You… did,” she says slowly, sitting straighter in her chair as she fully absorbs what you're saying. “When? Are you alright?”

“I am fine,” you reply just as carefully. Callalily’s eyes are insistent as she stares at you and you reluctantly elaborate, “There was an incident two weeks or so ago.” That at least is easy enough to tell her. Your mother’s penchant for specific coded language comes in handy. “Incident” means an attack on the family without serious injury or death, for you. It also indicates a private attack otherwise it would have been a ‘commotion’. Neither you, Dale, nor Grandmother were injured enough for a “disturbance” and since Dale took care of the assassins it's not “ongoing”. “The matter has been settled personally by Lord Dale, for now.”

“Two weeks—” Callalily starts to press before she cuts herself off. Her eyes are critical on your form in the mirror. You can see her take note that you have no visible injuries. You’ve no injuries hidden either—all bruising has since resolved. “I see.” You’ve never seen her at such a loss until the other day and to have it happen twice is nothing short of a miracle. She resettles herself in the chair and says, “Well, I’m very glad you had the stays then.” The sincerity in her voice makes you smile. “I can provide you the name of the maker, in case you should like to order more.”

Your smile widens at her offer. You’d asked one of the seamstresses to look into just such a thing, but it would be far easier with her help. “Thank you.”

She can’t seem to stop herself from questioning further, saying, “Did you have occasion to do more than…?” Something in your expression must answer her incomplete question for her. She stands up from the chair and walks over to the stays, pulling out the entire busk sheath.“I see. Then I am grateful indeed that you had this. I can provide a cord and show you how else to wear it, if you’d prefer.”

“Yes, please,” you reply, already feeling more settled at her suggestion. Callalily murmurs to a maid instructions for what to get from her rooms.

Only a few minutes later, the maid returns with the necessary supplies and Marigold in tow. “Apologies for my delay,” Marigold says as she quickly takes Callalily’s place on her chair. “It was more difficult than I expected make my way here without notice or accompaniment.”

Before you can question what she means by that, you’re distracted by Callalily’s maid needing to pin up your braids and set your curls. You do catch a look Callalily and Marigold share and wonder what it could mean as Miss Adir laces up your stays. When two of the maids, including Miss Adir, leave for the laundry room, you are unsurprised when Callalily sends her maid on an errand for some jewelry she’s decided to lend to you.

The final maid has finished with the fireplace and correctly reads the room, taking her leave. You eye your sisters in the mirror and ask, “What is it you wish to discuss?” Marigold tries to adopt an innocent expression, but Callalily doesn’t. She smirks as she inspects the dresses that haven’t been packed yet.

“Mother and Father wanted to be the one to speak with you,” Marigold says, as if she is reassuring you of something. Your eyebrows raise at that and she continues, “but we decided to do so instead.”

You lean back against your vanity in your chemise and stays. You don’t think there is bad news they are wishing to impart or truly news at all. However, you’re not sure what else they would need to tell you in private and in this manner. “What did they wish to speak about?”

Marigold looks extremely amused as Callalily answers, “The wedding night.”

“Oh.” You frown, wondering why they’d want to discuss tonight’s accommodations. As family of the bride, you expect them to stay on the Northridge estate for another week even as other guests might begin to leave as early as tomorrow, depending on how long the gala lasts today. Then something in Marigold’s smirk sparks a connection in your mind. “Oh!” You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you try very hard not to seem too awkward or naive.

They mean your wedding night. Tonight. With Dale. Then you remember the rest of what they said and feel an embarrassed panic fill your veins at the thought of having to discuss anything along those lines with your parents. “By the light, please no.” You’ve no true desire to discuss this with your sisters, although part of you is curious about their general experience as both are married, but your parents? No.

“I did not escape their talk and neither did Asher,” Callalily explains, a teasing twinkle in her eye, “but we were able to save Marigold.”

“And so we shall save you,” Marigold proclaims magnanimously.

Your mind races, not having expected any of them to want to discuss physical affection with you, even in preparation of tonight. You know that is the purpose of a wedding trip, everyone does, but it feels far too personal somehow to discuss anything detailed with them. You hadn’t felt nearly this uncomfortable when you’d have these facts explained to you in the first place. “We already had lessons! In school!” you protest when it becomes clear that by “save” they mean to still speak with you themselves. “Did you not?”

“We did,” Callalily confirms. Her teasing demeanor softens in the face of your discomfort and she explains further, “But Mother in particular still wanted to provide, ehm, additional context and opportunity to ask questions.”

“It’s genuinely rather sweet—in theory,” Marigold says. She’s not wrong exactly, on some level you appreciate the offer, but a larger part of you has never divulged personal information of this nature to anyone in your family or the reverse and you are perfectly content for it to stay that way.

“Yes well,” Callaliy’s voice is exceedingly dry. “I did not need to know anything about their wedding night or continued marital bliss.”

“Please stop,” you say weakly.

“We meant to speak with you far sooner,” Marigold clarifies, “but since we arrived late and with how busy everything was, we were not able to until now.”

“We apologize,” Callalily says, but she continues talking, “but truly, do you have any questions?”

“Or concerns?” Marigold leans in, eyes intent. “Have you—”

“No, of course not,” you reply before you can help yourself. Having a child outside of marriage for a noble was considered a societal taboo of the highest level. It’s seen as diluting your bloodline, evidence of careless stupidity, and disrespectful to nearly everyone involved. Those who did so and were found out were often ostracized from noble society, along with their family. The risk of such an outcome was impressed upon you and the other students–not to mention by your parents. As you knew you’d have a challenging time earning a betrothal as it was, you’d never considered doing so. Not to mention you’ve had enough health concerns and medicine in your body that you’d not wanted to take any chances with certain contraception methods.

But your sisters wouldn’t have had all those concerns. You also knew that it was somewhat common to preempt your wedding vows with your fiance in the weeks before the wedding. Everyone knew that first-borns tended to be born early, which means everyone knew that some did wait for the wedding night, if they felt their marriage was guaranteed strongly enough for that risk. With eyes wide you ask, “Had you?”

“I did not and neither did Asher,” Callalily sniffs in such a pointed manner that you turn to Marigold somewhat incredulously.

“I did,” Marigold confesses boldly. You knew she was always more willing to go against convention, but you’re still surprised. “It is not such a travesty or such a danger and I’m glad for the experience. It seemed ill-advised to me to wait until the wedding night.” You want to ask if she slept with her future husband or someone else. You want to ask how she kept the risk of a child out of wedlock low. Perhaps you will ask later as she does not have any children to this day, but you can’t make yourself ask right now.

You’d purposely not been thinking in too much detail about tonight, let alone engaging in such activity earlier. First, that had been due to who Dale was and then you’d been preoccupied with everything else this Dale is. Now they’re making it hard not to worry. What experience does this Dale have? What does he expect from you? Is what Marigold did far more common than you thought?

Marigold’s eyes narrow as she asks, “Have you had any experience with lust at all?”

You resist the urge to cross your arms defensively in front of yourself before saying, “Yes, some. Nothing—” you swallow as you try not to sound too defensive or accusatory after what Marigold confessed, “nothing as you seem to have experienced, but more than a kiss, if that is what you are asking.”

“Truly?” Marigold seems genuinely taken aback. You don’t know whether to feel offended she thought you too naive or unwanted to have done so or pleased you’ve managed to surprise her. “When? With who?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, the heat rushing to your face at the memories. You know peasants and other classmates and clearly Marigold herself had more experience than you managed to have. Both of Callalily and Marigold were married so they had far more by now too. You’re sure they’ll view your paltry experience as quite innocent.

“No one took advantage of you, did they?” Callalily’s expression is intent, her hand subconsciously drifting towards her sword as she reads the discomfort in your body language.

“No, of course not,” you reply quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “Just some games at school, in the dormitory.” Dormitories at your school were for four girls in a room, but some nights, more would sneak out after stealing something from the kitchens and all gather together. You’d never been invited to one in another room, but you’d joined in the one or two times everyone had gathered in your own rooms. Nadine’s brother would sometimes send her packages with liquor harder than the watered down wine you’d have with dinner that she would share with the others. Many of the games were silly but some turned to romance and kissing in addition to other daring challenges.

“Oh,” Callalily blinked in surprise before smiling, “Yes, we used to participate in such games. Many of my classmates enjoyed professing it as ‘practice’ without too much unnecessary risk.”

“That is not all, is it?” Marigold says shrewdly, her eyes intent on you.

You jut out your chin stubbornly because she’s correct. “No, I… There was one Spring Equinox festival, soon after graduation.” At their looks of mild confusion, no doubt remembering the family dinners and boring sacred ceremonies, you reluctantly expand further. “One I went to with my maid.” They frown in confusion. “As her cousin.” Their eyebrows raise at that reveal, remembering how different those festivals were from the more staid affairs your parents would host. “In the Garden district.”

Your home city, not the country estate, is where you’d attended this particular festival. That is why you had been able to pretend to be Martina’s cousin—everyone would have recognized you back on the estate, or at least know you weren’t Martina’s cousin, but not in the city. She’d help you dress and coached you on how to talk and act. She had said she wanted you to experience more life than you had received. Your quiet nature had easily fed into the idea of you being her country cousin with no experience in the large city. It had been one of, if not the best nights of your life. You’ve never talked to anyone about it besides Martina.

“You did what?!” Callalily exclaims.

Marigold grins. “I did not think you had it within you to do such a thing. Wonderful! That sounds like a marvelous time.”

“With how much everyone drinks?” Callalily says, still looking shocked. “Especially in the Garden district. Their liquors are dangerous!”

She isn’t wrong. They made delicious drinks without burn or foul taste which could easily lead to someone overindulging. Your contribution of coin had been carefully managed to acquire enough equally delicious street food. Besides, Martina is a good friend and you’ll not let them think she was careless with your well being. “M-She looked out for me. There was no lasting harm from that night. Nothing dangerous happened.” You can’t help but say, “I just wanted to enjoy myself as a real person for once.”

“Oh, honey,” Marigold says.

“I know that you—” Callalily tries to say, obviously not recalling enough from your previous conversation.

“Do you? You do not know,” you say sharply, the words coming easier this time. “And you all insist I must have slept through the first decade and a half of my life, but I did not. I was merely trapped in those rooms, listening to faint music from below, forbidden by Mother and my own body from—” You cut yourself off in a frustrated huff. But once again, at least they’re listening. You try to keep your voice steady so as not to feel like a child complaining about not receiving enough sweets. “It was like I was a doll, put up on a shelf, who could do nothing without another’s permission and manipulation. It was painful, the life all around me that I could not participate in.” You swallow, looking away from them and the pity you knew must be in your eyes. “So if, when I was an adult who could truly live,” you told the floor, “I wanted to drink and pretend to be someone else for the night and, and kiss someone in a barn,” you look back up at them, “then so be it!”

Silence fills the room as you breathe heavily, not having meant to say so much in such a short period of time. Then Marigold throws her arms around you in a fierce hug and Callalily soon joins hers. “My apologies,” Callalily murmurs, “I do not mean to presume so much. I had thought myself better than that.”

“I’d have gone mad, stuck in such a manner,” Marigold confesses. You don’t think saying that it felt like you had for a time would be appreciated but you’re grateful for the acknowledgment. “It was easier to believe you’d slept through it all than think of you in pain the whole time. I’m so happy that you’re here now and that you’ve done all you can to enjoy yourself.”

“Yes, precisely,” Callalily agrees before backing off to give you some space.

Marigold gives you an extra squeeze before she pulls back enough to tease, “How was the barn lad?”

You laugh even as you discretely dab at your eyes and take a sip from the water Callalily’s brought for you. “Sweet, he was a carpenter’s apprentice.” He’d been strong and confident—settled in a way that had greatly attracted you. You’d needed some air after how hot and tightly packed the tavern had gotten and he’d asked to come with you. The memory is still tinted with a pleasant haze. “We were interrupted by the maid who brought me before anything aside from his shirt—” You cut yourself off, rather embarrassed and wanting to keep some of that night to yourself.

Marigold giggles.

Callalily nods and finally stops looking as though she plans to call the guards to find Martina and take her to task. “It’s probably for the best,” she ends up saying. “Barns are not near as romantic as one might hope when it comes to anything that requires the actual removal of clothing.”

“Callalily!”

“My husband misses me when we travel apart,” she says airly. “We cannot wait at times.”

Marigold scrunches up her face. “I’m not sure I required that information.”

“I could instead tell you of Mother’s—” Callalily begins.

“No!” you and Marigold interrupt her at the same time.

Callalily rolls her eyes but seems intent upon bringing the conversation back to where it originally started. “If you do not wish to have further discussion, or you do not have any questions, that is fine. I would like to impress upon you that communication is the heart of a marriage, in all aspects including matters of physical affection.”

“Encourage what you enjoy, put a halt to anything you dislike,” Marigold adds, more serious than she’s been on the subject so far. “As well as listen to him for the same.”

“It should be an enjoyable night,” Callalily says definitively, “and if either of you are not enjoying yourselves, talk to each other. There is always the next night.”

“Do you believe he would pressure you?” Marigold asks with a frown. “Some are very insistent regarding the manner in which a wedding night should progress.”

You shake your head before she’s even finished asking. “No, I don’t. Dale listens to me.” Original Dale would have had expectations and perhaps this Dale does too, but you’ve never received that impression from him. If anything, you’re beginning to wonder if he’ll be interested in the usual trappings of a human wedding night. His recent attitude, his confusing demeanor. It must all just be pressure from the investigation and the wedding and having to perform for so many people. Once the two of you are finally alone, everything will all be so much easier. It has to be.

In truth, it's how his inhuman nature will impact tonight and your future together that you have the most questions and concerns around. What if demons marry differently? What if they express physical affection in a manner you cannot reciprocate? Would that be better than if he’s no interest in you physically at all? The original Dale had proclaimed you passable, did this one agree? It’s not as though you can express all of those twisting thoughts to your sisters.

“As he should.” Callalily nods decisively and questions you no further on your assessment of Dale, which you’re grateful for.

“You,” Marigold stares at you, head tilted to the side, as if a new thought had just occurred to her. “You are happy to be marrying, aren’t you?”

Despite all your worries, you smile shyly back at her. “Yes, I am.”

She grins back. “Then that is what truly matters.” Marigold glances at the clock and frowns. “As it is, we had best be on our way to rescue him from Mother.” At your frown, she explains, “He’d agreed to stay with her in the garden and entertain.” You take that to mean ‘allow Mother to play matchmaker for him’. You’re surprisingly touched by the sacrifice. “However, we are already approaching the hour and he shall wish for his deliverance from her shortly.”

“Luckily Asher is occupying Father,” Callalily says. “And is unlikely to want for rescue. If anything we shall have to pry them away from a riveting board game of some kind to attend the wedding in the first place.”

“We can let Mother deal with them,” Marigold waves off Callalily’s concern.

“Thank you,” you cut in to say. “I truly do appreciate it.”

“You are most welcome,” Marigold replies.

“If you require anything at all, do not hesitate to contact us, any of us, yes?” Callalily adds.

“Yes,” you answer and you think you actually will, if you need to.

After they leave, you sit down, suddenly unaware of what to do with yourself. Your eyes catch on the various wedding accessories spread out on your vanity. You run your fingers over the garter’s lace detail as your mind drifts to tonight and how Dale might–

The door opens behind you and you hope your expression doesn’t give the direction your thoughts had been drifting away. “Did you forget something, sister?” Your eyes land on a maid instead of your sisters. “Oh, my apologies.”

“My lady.” She looks surprised to see you, which is odd considering these are your rooms. Her eyes dart around as if looking for someone else, but there’s only you. If anything, you’d say she has the look of a woman who just learned some piece of tantalizing gossip and instead of finding a room full of her fellow servants, has found a superior instead. When you were still young and bedridden, it was one of the few times you were grateful you never counted fully as one such superior. It was always so interesting to listen to the stories they shared. Now, in a bittersweet way, it seems you’ve finally moved to the latter group. “I…”

Still, as she begins to look more worried than disappointed, when she hasn’t made an excuse about being confused about which room she’s in and left, you frown. “What is it?” you ask.

“Lord Dale has…” she trails off when the other maids return from the laundry with your clean clothes for packing, your corded underskirts pressed and bleached to pure whiteness.

The maid who’d burst in seems to be attempting to act casual, but even the other maids notice something is amiss as their eyes keep darting to her with interest even as they return to their places. Then it appears she is going to slip out of the room. You can’t have that. “Miss? You were sharing news?” you remind her, hoping how tightly strung her words have left isn’t obvious.

“There might be a mild issue,” she says hastily, taking another step towards the door. “I’m sure it shall be dealt with quickly. If it were more serious, you would have been informed by a person far more appropriate than me. There is no point in worrying you.”

You swallow, each word increasing the panic shooting through you. “Be that as it may, you are here now. Tell me, what is your understanding of the situation?”

“I truly should not trouble you, my lady,” she tries to insist. “Lord Archibald is handling it.”

“What is wrong with Lord Dale?” you repeat, as clearly as you can because whether they know it or not, you are the best person to handle whatever might be wrong. Did someone try to give him willowbark again? Did someone involved in the assassination attempt attack? Is there some new danger you cannot even fathom?

“I overheard,” she says haltingly, “there was a lot of shouting, you see. They’re still arguing about it I believe, but… well…from what I heard, which was not terribly clear you must understand, it sounded as if…” You try your best to prompt her with your expression, the whole room gone silent waiting for her final words. “Lord Dale, he’s called off the wedding.”

[Part Thirty]

#my writing #story: nothing's wrong with dale #story part #nothing's wrong with dale #dale #slow burn #monster bf #monster romance #exophilia #osha compliant #terato #arranged marriage #reader #ik her hair should probably be lik powdered and shit but i didnt want to so i didnt #this is not historical so everythings anachronistic on purpose and its fine #also its cool if u discuss stuff lik this with ur family members but i do not and this is my story lol #also obviously some of these opinions are of the fake time period and do not represent my opinions in real life #ended up trimming one part of the scene but i think it still works #oh #you want to talk about the end?#this has been planned since day one - i hav the text message receipts to prove it lmao #its why the next chapter is a Big Deal #might b the most important chapter to b honest #look #the drama is real #it'd all been going too smoothly again #dont you think?#sorry not sorry

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